#but also. thats my mother. its the same woman who married a stranger because her two kids were homeless under a bridge after

[martyrbat]

its so funny recognizing yourself in your parents and by funny i mean im going to be sick

[nerdinsomniac]

im gonna teach y’all a little bit of jewish law today, folks

Basically a friend of mine asked me last night if it was true that rabbis check a woman’s underwear once a month after her period. SO y’all are gonna learn today.

*Disclaimer--I’m not a rabbi or a married woman (aka someone actively practicing the laws im about to talk abt). However I have several years of learning under my belt, plus parents who will talk about ANYTHING relating to Jewish law, and this happens to have been one of the things that have come up both in my schooling (thanks Jewish Day School) and subsequently me clarifying a few things with my parents (thanks mom and dad)

Also, all this info obvs only pertains to religious Jews, generally Orthodox or Conservative. If you or a friend is a not religious Jew don’t assume they follow (or even know about) any of what’s in store below.

Let’s start at the beginning (que sound of music soundtrack)

1. Jewish Law forbids period sex. Why? Good question. thats one of the laws that isnt really explained at all, but the Torah and Talmud are pretty adamant about it. Bottom line, jewish couples are not allowed to have sex from that start of a woman’s period until she goes to the mikvah (ritual bath) 7 days after the end of her period, called the 7 clean days or שבע נקיים (sheva neki-im) in hebrew.

Fun fact? This seems super archaic, but all the women i’ve talked to (including teachers, women I know in my community, and my own mother) are pretty supportive of the system. While i have no experience of my own (I’m turning 20 at the end of the month, give me some time folks), these women and that one rabbi at an NCSY shabbaton (thanks rabbi) say that the halacha (law) prohibiting sex for about a week and a half gives couples a semi scheduled time to connect verbally and emotionally which improves their relationship as a whole, and some of them (not including the rabbi--he was speaking to a large group so we’ll cut him some slack) even said that that in turn enhanced their sex lives.

2. The Seven Clean Days

The seven clean days are essentially a buffer zone between when a woman is actively bleeding and when she goes to the mikvah. And this gets to the heart of the “checking women’s underwear” misconception, so lets break that down.

Truth: Women check to see if they are actively bleeding during the 7 clean days: While technically only the first and last day are absolutely necessary (so if you miss a day in the middle it’s okay), most women check every day by inserting a piece of white “bedika” (checking) cloth *up there*, pulling it out again, and seeing if there’s blood on it. Think kind of like putting in a tampon. 

Here in Israel the cloths are sold at most pharmacies, while in the rest of the world you can get them online or i assume at the mikvah or a jewish store, but I’m not sure.

False: Women then have to bring that cloth to a rabbi: Women are trusted and expected to check the cloth themselves and decide for themselves if the cloth is clean of blood. What women DO bring the cloth to a rabbi for is if they’re not sure. The blood or discharge that negates a clean day is red or dark brown, ie a sign that you’re still actively bleeding. Because (as any menstruating woman knows) your period and vaginal discharge can be any of several colors, it is at times hard to tell if the color is indicative of active bleeding and therefore you have to start the count to seven over again, or if its old blood or non-blood discharge and you can keep the count going from where you are.

False: If you have a question about whether or not your cloth is “clean”, you must take it to a male rabbi: so this one is actually a bit of a controversy within the Jewish community, but many people hold by yoatzot halacha (literally law advisors), women who are trained in matters of family law and handles these kinds of questions. there are also other programs in communities in major cities whereby women facilitate anonymous period questions and checks on behalf of other women, like Nili does in my hometown of Chicago. here’s the link to their hotline: https://www.torahchicago.org/nili-hotline.html.

3. The Mikvah

I realize I already got to the part where I answered my friend’s question, but since i hope I still have your attention, lets finish the story so to speak.

I’ll start off this way--aside from people scared about being naked in front of someone they don’t know or embarrassed to know that anyone they meet in the mikvah waiting room is probably going to be having sex that night, and knows that you’re probably gonna have sex that night, I’ve never heard about a complaint about the mikvah.

The entire operation is built like a private spa. Most appointments are scheduled far enough apart to maintain the women’s privacy, the idea being that ideally they won’t see anyone but the receptionist and the mikvah lady (I’ll explain later) before they go in. Women first are taken to a bathroom with a bath or shower, because before going into the mikvah, you gotta be clean. There are fancy soaps and shampoos, shavers, and nail polish remover (gotta take off the nail polish before you go in). Most places have fluffy towels and nice bathrobes and the like, but it really depends on where you are. When you’re done bathing, there’s usually a way to call to the receptionist to let her know that you’re ready to go in.

Soon after, the mikvah lady will come and lead you to the mikvah itself. Her job is to make sure that when you go in that every inch of you (including every strand of your hair) goes underwater. Most women turn around while you undress and only turn around again when you’re in the water, as a measure of maintaining as much privacy as possible. you then dunk, say the blessing, dunk again, say another, optional blessing, and then either get out or dunk another 1-5 times, depending on your mother’s traditions (or whoever taught you)

SUPER SUPER IMPORTANT NOTE: If being naked in front of a stranger triggers trauma or extreme anxiety, talk to both a rabbi and the mikvah lady. There is a way for you to dunk without supervision (which the mikvah lady should know about and be able to teach you how to do) and the mikvah lady MUST leave and let you dunk on your own if you ask. YOUR MENTAL HEALTH COMES FIRST!!!!!

Welp thats the end of our overview. There’s a lot more to get into here (like what exactly makes a mikvah a mikvah, the more spiritual aspect of this commandment, etc), but the goal of this post was mostly to avoid the misconception my friend, a Jewish high schooler in the same Jewish school i went to had. If any rabbis or learned women want to add or correct anything ive just said, please do... like i said in my disclaimer I’m not the most knowledgable about this subject, being that its laws do not yet pertain to me.

[sweet-xoxo-thatcares]

Fuckin Shit Show

That fucking happy ass unicorn that I thought looked like Jay, fucking tricked me. Fucking Clown.

I thought that since she just asked and was still being nice, pleasant, and communicative with me about spending time together then it meant that there's no way she was just tryna use me and be manipulative....noooo

The fucking happy ass unicorn told me that she wouldn't get angry if I was to end things with her just because of distance.

The true culprit mark was when I said "Lies, we both would" assuming she cared about me and was attached like she said she was and I was too. I thought it was safe to attach to her because she was happy and was saying she already could see us moving in together.

Red Flag: this was day 4 of us just talking and I knew it had been a whole fucking year since I had any type of romantic attraction to somebody and I was put my cards in too deep, thinking she was really here for me. I got caught up. And that was my bad.

I assumed since she said she was autistic, had all this trauma she told me about, and was waiting on disability to approve her or not...I thought why not? But I tried to break it off by saying we could be just friends, because overall...I couldn't see myself marrying someone who didn't want kids, was really pushy about speeding up the courting phase so we could start dating ASAP Rocky (also red flag) and then another thing...I was dead sure I wasn't ready to come out to my parents and tell them that the person I was thinking about living with and dating within less than a year, was actually a transfemme who's suicidal, a former drug and alcohol rehab patient, has depression and anxiety, scoliosis, and had been assaulted multiple times, so they have ptsd and paranoia, and sometimes can not go to sleep at all because of what happened to them.

Its like I felt so bad for this girl, plus she had things that I haven't found in common with other people. Our love languages were similar, we both had anxiety, hyper sexuality, and separation anxiety from dealing with childhood trauma. She was also kicked out and had got into with her mom, which she has cut off connection with because she did allootttt of awful shit to her....wayyyy worse than my mom. There was sexual, mental, emotional, and physical abuse, she was an alcohol bully towards her to make her get drunk early, ran her over, she was absolute fucked up mother to have. Crazy psychopath.

She said she wouldn't tell anyone her trauma unless we were actually dating which was fine. But I guess me telling her what happened to me with my mom and me getting kicked out, reminded her of her mother. We both are bipolar and have bipolar moms. So it felt great but also sad that we had to go through those hardships just for us to bond.

And she was into buds, video games, and some of my sexual interests. Yea if she wasn't a manipulative, angst who wanted to basically get back to living in an apartment with any black girl they found on the internet who would agree to doing that....living with each other and dating each other within less than a week....

She probably would have fell in love all over again. Cause lets be real if I found out the woman I dated for a year, lived with and fell in love with passed and I'm 4 months later single, horny, and missing her...of course I would be desperate if I couldn't talk to my family like that and had to live with my grandparents.....Athena wanted out of her living situation and wanted to get back to what she had with somebody else she loved.

I told her my rule for myself is to not move in with somebody unless I'm serious about being with them long term and its been a year or more of dating. Like only if I could see myself marrying you, then yea we living together. Athena didn't like that.

But you gotta be smart with dating and I'm glad I put my foot down and didn't just do whatever she said just because she had been through so much shit and now couldn't even afford to live her own life.

Bad example of what I would want to live with though...she doesn't plan on learning how to drive like I am, she doesn't want to pursue a serious career at home, and she thinks that just paying for the food with her eat card would help handle the utilities and cable and internet and cellphone bills that I would probably have to pay for....since she's still waiting on Disability to approve her after they told her she gotta wait "six months" to start getting in money.

I think us both sexting each other cause we were really starting to feel each other on THE 2ND DAY must have really teased her about us waiting to have sex. Because she did say, I should be on birth control in case we do start having sex. I wanted to, too, but looking back it would have been more hot if we could have done it raw...so maybe thats why I agreed and actually scheduled a gynecologist appointment

AND WTFFF IVE BEEN SCARED TO GO THE OBGYN FOR YEARS AND SHE MADE ME FEEL LIKE I WAS DOING THIS TO SAVE OUR RELATIONSHIP, AND WE WEREN'T EVEN TOGETHER YET!!!

WTF. So my dumbass is still going, its scheduled in October, and no I don't want to go cause I don't like strangers fisting and discovery channeling my pussy like that unless I'm getting a gold medal or a lollipop after. Les just be honest...IM AFRAID I MIGHT CUM FROM EXCITEMENT AND NERVOUSNESS IF SHE HITS THE RIGHT SPOT AND THEN MY PUSSY IS GONNA GRIP THE DOC'S HAND,

I WONT BE ABLE TO LET GO BECAUSE MY PUSSY IS ALREADY TIGHT AND IM LEAKING EVERYWHERE

SORRRY but this is exactly why I don't want a guy doctor inside of me for a visit, but then again I gotta find a female I wouldn't be sexually attracted to, but nice looking enough to where she's friendly and gentle with me. Cause Im sensitive and I clench up down there when I get scared.

But yea, I called Athena a fake ass for that reason, cause after the rose colored glasses...and having me think she would really wait a year for me in order for us to move in, she definitely lied about that too. Cause she said yes and that she be willing to do anything to make it work long distance until we got to that point.

And as soon as I mentioned living together would be a step towards marriage, me possibly being bipolar just like her because I sometimes have anger issues, and then me saying I wish you lived closer...

Must have triggered her autism and her ptsd flags about her mom...

Idk, but yea I fell for it, but at the same time it was because she was too good to be true in comparison from the Jay I just ran away from...and its been a year....but it still feels like I just left 2-3 months ago. And that's so weird to me.

Athena. Scam. Mentally Psychotic. But aye, crazy attracts crazy...

[kpopscenariosblog]

A past in the nile: Part 1

Jungkook x Reader

Ancient Egypt au, mystery au, Fantasy au

Word count: 1,591

Summary: Fresh out of high school you go on a trip to Egypt with your friend just to witness an ancient corpse be brought back to life.

1| 2 | 3 | 

The crew that you were packed up with had decided to station outside of one of many tombs that surrounded the area in which you were located. You were to be camping out here until tomorrow or the day after, seeing as to how there was a bunch more to do before you guys left. Although this was not your area of expertise, being fresh out of high school and soon to be starting college, you ended up here with your close friend Jimin who was invited on this trip by his friend, jin, who was an archeologist.

Jimin perched himself next to you extending his arm out to offer a bottle of water, to which you accepted gladly, taking big gulps and not placing the the bottle of warm liquid down until it was less than half-way full.

“Hey do you wanna go look into one last tomb before we head off to get some shut eye?” He asked wearing a wide yet soft grin

You were convinced to reject his offer, but who could resist the smile of Park jimin? Definitely not you and so you nodded your head standing up, with your flash light in hand

You alongside four others observed the brown and worn out walls of the supposed to be “tomb”. But inside of this tomb there was nothing: no treasure, no jewelry, and no sarcophagus, save for the writings on the walls. You tried to decipher what story it was telling but not only was the writing hieroglyphics but some other ancient writing form.

“what does it say?” hoseok asked, walking up behind you to study the wall that you were extremely concentrated on

“ i’m not entirely sure. its in some other type of language.”

“oh, I see.” he started, his face growing even brighter “ It’s in hanja, a ancient korean type of writing.”

“But why would it be in korean.” jin pitched in

“I guess we’ll have to find out.” said Jimin and everyones heads whipped in his direction just to see him leaning on a wall which sat beside a staircase going down. You don’t recall that being there before so it must’ve been hidden. As you guys walked down the dark stair case hoseok was reiterating what story the writings on the wall above was telling. 

“Once upon a time there was a princess whose name was Bektamun, she eventually married a korean prince by the name of jungkook. Thats probably why some of it was written in hanja. But anyways they got married in secret because neither of their families supported their relationship. But there was nothing that they could do about it because the ceremony and ritual was already complete. Jungkook and Bektamun ruled over some kingdom for a solid year, where most people saw them as a god and goddess because of their “powers”.

“oh so lots of family drama and then death after a year of being married.” you rolled your eyes “ sounds like the perfect love story”

You ended up in a candle lit room where finally there were two sarcophagus’ sat side by side. One of which was completely empty. Thats odd but not only that but there were lit candles scattered around the room. you squatted down to feel the white substance that lay on the ground in a an almost perfect circle. It had a powdery texture. 

“Hey guys, look” Jimin called out and every one in the room gathered around the golden box that you assumed belonged to jungkook. Where was Bektamun’s body then?.

Hyuna, one of the bunch of you who tagged alone to explore this last tomb began to whisper something that you couldn’t quite make out. After awhile of her just straight out whispering you figured that she was chanting something which kind of creeped you out. Eventually she grabbed your hand and placed it on the corpses chest, as her chants got louder. the necklace wrapped around the dead man’s neck began to glow and you tried your hardest to pull away but to no avail could you do so because Hyuna had a tight locked grip on your wrist, you looked down in horror, wandering why no one was doing anything about your current situation. Finally she let go as you let out a horrendously loud scream and jumped away from the sarcophagus. She and everyone else in the room fell into a fit of laughter, as you rubbed your wrist, not very happy at Hyuna for making you touch a corpse.

“Come on (y/n), it was just a prank” said jimin trailing behind you as you stormed off

“It wasn’t very funny.” 

you ended up in some unknown room that held a bunch of scrolls and you rolled your finger against the rough material called papyrus. Hearing rustling from behind you, you snapped your body to face your guest.

“Look Jimin, I don’t feel like-” you started but soon stopped realizing that the intruder was not Park Jimin nor was this guy anyone from the crew that you were stationed with.

“Who are you.” You asked and the tall dark-haired stranger gave you a cute bunny smile

“Bektamun?” he asked and upon seeing your confused face he uttered out another name

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?”

His grin got bigger if even possible, before he spoke something in a foreign tongue

“JIMIN, I SWEAR TO GOD IF THIS IS ANOTHER JOKE.” you threatened 

Jimin alongside the rest of the group came trailing into the room and the mystery guys eyes lit up instantly in recognition

“Jimin?” he questioned and the latter turned to face him before he engaged into a conversation with the guy, all the while you not knowing anything that they were saying

The unknown man walked towards you lifting his hand to place it onto your cheek which somehow felt very comforting and warm

“Bektamun, my love, it has been over 5,000 years, It is I, Jungkook.”

This had to be some kind of a prank. You ran off to the site where jungkook’s corpse was located just to see it empty. For some reason you refused to believe that the man was just brought back from the dead. Jimin came from behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Where is the body Jimin? This is not funny.”

“(y/n), I’m gonna need you to listen to me.” He began and you turned around to face him your lips quivering and your eyes starting to water from shock, disbelief, and fear.

“You are a reincarnation of Bektamun and you have a history with Jungkook. The memories will come to you sooner or later because he has awaken.”

You slid down until you sat down on the cold hard ground, trying to process the information that was just fed to you, before everything went black.

It was a normal hot and sunny day, you stood beside a man and woman who appeared to be of high class. These two were your parents. You looked up and instantly locked eyes with chocolatey brown orbs, getting lost into the foreign boys eyes while he did the same.

“(y/n), this is Jungkook and his father Jinwoo, they are of royalty from a foreign land and we will be housing them until they are able to get back to their home.” your father said, snapping you out of your trance.

“It is my pleasure to meet you both.” you spoke before your mother chimed in

“(y/n), why don’t you show Jungkook around. We have stuff to discuss with his father.

“Okay.”

You and Jungkook walked side by side, strolling through the food markets

“This is a really beautiful place.” he said and you flashed him a smile

“It truly is and someday I will be the ruler of this beautiful kingdom.” 

“ A beautiful kingdom, for a beautiful girl, whomever you shall marry will be very fortunate.” You both wore uncontrollable smiles

in this day you taught jungkook how to do some traditional dances such as belly dancing and body rolling, you introduced him to your cultures style of food, and even taught him a few words in your own language, while also telling him of some old stories before your time. In the end you both had a ton of fun and couldn’t help the giggles that fell from each of your mouths.

“How about we meet again, tomorrow maybe?” Jungkook asked and you beamed

“Tomorrow sounds perfect, meet me by the courts.” And with that you both went you separate ways anticipating the meeting that you both sat up for the following day.

Your eyes snapped open, scanning your surroundings, just to figure out that you were in a tent.

“How are you feeling?” a voice to your side snapped you out of your thoughts

“ Oh Jimin, you will not believe the dream that I just had.” you cried out getting ready to tell him of your rollercoaster of emotions.

But just as you were about to spill to Jimin about you extremely odd dream you locked eyes with the same guy that haunted your mind at the moment, Jungkook,. You stared at him for a few minutes trying to process in you head what was happening and while you were doing so he smirked at the same time that Jimin let out a small chuckle. That was when you knew that those supposed “dreams” that you had just experienced were indeed real.

What were you going to do now?

~ admin

                                                                                                   Next

[arplis]

Arplis - News: 50 of the Best Kindle Unlimited Books You Can Read in 2020

Are you ready for the best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020? Last year I gave you the worlds best advice when offering up 50 of the best Kindle Unlimited books to read in 2019. This year Im going to totally blow your mind by offering up another 50 of the best Kindle Unlimited Books for you to check out in the ding-dong new year.

If you werent privy to last years post and you dont want to waste time reading about books that are so last-decade, you can check this out to find out how Kindle Unlimited works. You can finally get the facts about Prime Reading vs Kindle Unlimited. Hell, Ill even pop in a handy-dandy guide to the difference between Kindle Unlimited and Audible.

If youre still not 100% pumped for Kindle Unlimited then why dont you check out this free 30-day trial and find out for your dang selfand this list of the best Kindle Unlimited books for 2020 will help get you started.

Descriptions have been pulled from Amazon.

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Sonja Watts needs to re-enter the workforce after divorcing her husband of thirteen years. Taking the advice of her sister Birdie and her best friend Estelle, she signs up for a six-week course for entrepreneurs; hoping that she will learn everything she needs to know to build a business to support herself and her kids. On the first night of class, Sonja is able to ignore the fact that most of the students were younger than her by ten years or more. It was what she expected. But when the instructor walks in, she debates packing up her new twelve hundred dollar laptop and walking out. Sonja couldnt remember the last time she looked at a man with little more interest than she give a sturdy dining room table. She was just disinterested. But wow, did Atlas James grab her interest.

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Zoe is trying to survive the holiday season without succumbing to winter gloom. By chance, she meets DeAndre, who approaches her with an offer she cant refuse.

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While vacationing in Trinidad, world-renowned photographer Roman Knight unexpectedly acquires a new muse, Cynthia Tremaine. Their chemistry is off the charts and they cant resist giving into a night of passion together. Neither of them expected to see each other again after they parted waysbut fate seemed to have other plans.

With Your Permission by Stephanie Nicole Norris

As the CEO of Building Bridges LLC, Bri is driven by determination for success. However, while planning the wedding of one of Chicagos hottest couples, Bris focus is shifted when the strum of a nocturnal voice captures her attention. Being an empath has empowered her sense of compassion for others, so shes not only drawn to him because of his broken heart but also from a fierce attraction that sparks her interest and tap dances on a groove on her heart. Getting involved with someone whos not open to love may prove to be the most difficult road Bri has ever journeyed, but shes unable to stop herself from falling into an irresistible tango of love.

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#ISeafoodDifferently: 11 Of My Most Popular Recipes and The Stories Behind Them by Chef Kendric Smith

This recipe book is the first of many to come. Its my pleasure to share my cooking secrets with you!!

Bread Baking for Beginners: The Essential Guide to Baking Kneaded Breads, No-Knead Breads, and Enriched Breads by Bonnie Ohara

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True to Me by Kay Bratt

Quinn Maguire has a stable life, a fianc, and what she thinks is a clear vision for her future. All of that comes undone by her mothers deathbed confessionthe absentee father Quinn spent thirty years resenting is not her real father at all. With that one revealing whisper, Quinn embarks on a journey to Maui, her mothers childhood home, a storied paradise that holds the truth about her mothers past and all its secrets Quinn is determined to uncover.

Regretting You by Colleen Hoover

Morgan Grant and her sixteen-year-old daughter, Clara, would like nothing more than to be nothing alike. Morgan is determined to prevent her daughter from making the same mistakes she did. By getting pregnant and married way too young, Morgan put her own dreams on hold. Clara doesnt want to follow in her mothers footsteps. Her predictable mother doesnt have a spontaneous bone in her body. With warring personalities and conflicting goals, Morgan and Clara find it increasingly difficult to coexist. The only person who can bring peace to the household is ChrisMorgans husband, Claras father, and the family anchor. But that peace is shattered when Chris is involved in a tragic and questionable accident. The heartbreaking and long-lasting consequences will reach far beyond just Morgan and Clara.

The Will and the Wilds by Charlie N. Holmberg

Enna knows to fear the mystings that roam the wildwood near her home. When one tries to kill her to obtain an enchanted stone, Enna takes a huge risk: fighting back with a mysting of her own. Maekalluss help isnt free. His price? A kiss. One with the power to steal her soul. But their deal leaves Maekallus bound to the mortal realm, which begins eating him alive. Only Ennas kiss, given willingly, can save him from immediate destruction. Its a temporary salvation for Maekallus and a lingering doom for Enna. Part of her soul now burns bright inside Maekallus, making him feel for the first time.

Not My Type of Stranger by Prachi Gupta

Lakshya is living the playboy life and he LOVES it. He doesnt believe in love and has never failed to get a girl in his lifeuntil he meets Ridhima, the new girl next door. He prefers easy hook-ups, and shes definitely not his type. Shes totally uninterested in him and he cant stand it. Hell stop at nothing to win her. But Ridhima has a secret of her own which will make it remarkably more difficult for him to get close to her. What happens when Lakshya gets to know about the secret? Will they end up falling for one another? or Will she be the one to break his heart? A story about a bad boy falling for the good girl and not just any good girl, a hot sexy good girl with a big secret.

Girl at Heart by Kelly Oram

As the daughter of a successful Major League pitcher, Charlie Hastings has baseball in her blood. Unfortunately, being the only girl on her high school baseball team, Charlie has always been just one of the guys. When her best friend, and secret love of her life, asks another girl to the prom, Charlie is devastated. Shes tired of being overlooked by boys because shes not like other girls. Suffering a massive identity crisis, she decides to hang up her cleats and finally learn how to be a girl. But with only two weeks until the state championships, the Roosevelt High Ravens cant afford to lose their star catcher. Team captain Jace King makes her a deal: Dont quit the team, and hell help her become the girl shes so desperate to be. After all, hes got four sisters, one of whom happens to be a cheerleader. He knows a thing or two about girls. (And if he can win her heart in the process, all the better.)

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The Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood

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1984 by George Orwell

In 1984, London is a grim city in the totalitarian state of Oceania where Big Brother is always watching you and the Thought Police can practically read your mind. Winston Smith is a man in grave danger for the simple reason that his memory still functions. Drawn into a forbidden love affair, Winston finds the courage to join a secret revolutionary organization called The Brotherhood, dedicated to the destruction of the Party. Together with his beloved Julia, he hazards his life in a deadly match against the powers that be.

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. Le Guin

When young Tenar is chosen as high priestess to the ancient and nameless Powers of the Earth, everything is taken away home, family, possessions, even her name. For she is now Arha, the Eaten One, guardian of the ominous Tombs of Atuan. While she is learning her way through the dark labyrinth, a young wizard, Ged, comes to steal the Tombs greatest hidden treasure, the Ring of Erreth-Akbe. But Ged also brings with him the light of magic, and together, he and Tenar escape from the darkness that has become her domain.

The Vine Witch by Luanne G. Smith

For centuries, the vineyards at Chteau Renard have depended on the talent of their vine witches, whose spells help create the world-renowned wine of the Chanceaux Valley. Then the skill of divining harvests fell into ruin when sorcire Elena Boureanu was blindsided by a curse. Now, after breaking the spell that confined her to the shallows of a marshland and weakened her magic, Elena is struggling to return to her former life. And the vineyard she was destined to inherit is now in the possession of a handsome stranger.

Wastelands: The New Apocalypse edited by John Joseph Adams featuring Carmen Maria Machado, Ken Liu & many more

In WASTELANDS: THE NEW APOCALYPSE, veteran anthology editor John Joseph Adams is once again our guide through the wastelands using his genre and editorial expertise to curate his finest collection of post-apocalyptic short fiction yet. Whether the end comes via nuclear war, pandemic, climate change, or cosmological disaster, these stories explore the extraordinary trials and tribulations of those who survive. Featuring never-before-published tales by: Veronica Roth, Hugh Howey, Jonathan Maberry, Seanan McGuire, Tananarive Due, Richard Kadrey, Scott Sigler, Elizabeth Bear, Tobias S. Buckell, Meg Elison, Greg van Eekhout, Wendy N. Wagner, Jeremiah Tolbert, and Violet Allenplus, recent reprints by: Carmen Maria Machado, Carrie Vaughn, Ken Liu, Paolo Bacigalupi, Kami Garcia, Charlie Jane Anders, Catherynne M. Valente, Jack Skillingstead, Sofia Samatar, Maureen F. McHugh, Nisi Shawl, Adam-Troy Castro, Dale Bailey, Susan Jane Bigelow, Corinne Duyvis, Shaenon K. Garrity, Nicole Kornher-Stace, Darcie Little Badger, Timothy Mudie, and Emma Osborne.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: General Fiction/Literary Fiction

Where the Story Starts by Imogen Clark

As single mother Leah struggles to get her children ready one morning, the doorbell rings. Standing on the doorstep of their terraced house in Whitley Bay is a well-dressed stranger, Clio, who feels an emotional tie to the house that she cant explain. The story should end there, but a long-buried secret is already on its way to the surface

The Overdue Life of Amy Byler by Kelly Harms

Overworked and underappreciated, single mom Amy Byler needs a break. So when the guilt-ridden husband who abandoned her shows up and offers to take care of their kids for the summer, she accepts his offer and escapes rural Pennsylvania for New York City. Usually grounded and mild mannered, Amy finally lets her hair down in the city that never sleeps. She discovers a life filled with culture, sophistication, andwith a little encouragement from her friendsa few blind dates. When one man in particular makes quick work of Amys heart, she risks losing herself completely in the unexpected escape, and as the summer comes to an end, Amy realizes too late that she must make an impossible decision: stay in this exciting new chapter of her life, or return to the life she left behind.

The Murmur of Bees by Sofa Segovia

From the day that old Nana Reja found a baby abandoned under a bridge, the life of a small Mexican town forever changed. Disfigured and covered in a blanket of bees, little Simonopio is for some locals the stuff of superstition, a child kissed by the devil. But he is welcomed by landowners Francisco and Beatriz Morales, who adopt him and care for him as if he were their own. As he grows up, Simonopio becomes a cause for wonder to the Morales family, because when the uncannily gifted child closes his eyes, he can see what no one else canvisions of all thats yet to come, both beautiful and dangerous. Followed by his protective swarm of bees and living to deliver his adoptive family from threatsboth human and those of natureSimonopios purpose in Linares will, in time, be divined.

One for the Blackbird, One for the Crow: A Novel by Olivia Hawker

Wyoming, 1876. For as long as they have lived on the frontier, the Bemis and Webber families have relied on each other. With no other settlers for miles, it is a matter of survival. But when Ernest Bemis finds his wife, Cora, in a compromising situation with their neighbor, he doesnt think of survival. In one impulsive moment, a man is dead, Ernest is off to prison, and the women left behind are divided by rage and remorse. Losing her husband to Coras indiscretion is another hardship for stoic Nettie Mae. But as a brutal Wyoming winter bears down, Cora and Nettie Mae have no choice but to come together as one familyto share the duties of working the land and raising their children. Theres Nettie Maes son, Clydeno longer a boy, but not yet a manwho must navigate the road to adulthood without a father to guide him, and Coras daughter, Beulah, who is as wild and untamable as her prairie home.

Halsey Street by Naima Coster

Penelope Grand has scrapped her failed career as an artist in Pittsburgh and moved back to Brooklyn to keep an eye on her ailing father. Shes accepted that her future wont be what shed dreamed, but now, as gentrification has completely reshaped her old neighborhood, even her past is unrecognizable. Old haunts have been razed, and wealthy white strangers have replaced every familiar face in Bed-Stuy. Even her mother, Mirella, has abandoned the family to reclaim her roots in the Dominican Republic. That took courage. Its also unforgivable.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Biography and Memoir

If You Tell: A True Story of Murder, Family Secrets, and the Unbreakable Bond of Sisterhood by Gregg Olsen

After more than a decade, when sisters Nikki, Sami, and Tori Knotek hear the word mom, it claws like an eagles talons, triggering memories that have been their secret since childhood. Until now. For years, behind the closed doors of their farmhouse in Raymond, Washington, their sadistic mother, Shelly, subjected her girls to unimaginable abuse, degradation, torture, and psychic terrors. Through it all, Nikki, Sami, and Tori developed a defiant bond that made them far less vulnerable than Shelly imagined. Even as others were drawn into their mothers dark and perverse web, the sisters found the strength and courage to escape an escalating nightmare that culminated in multiple murders.

The Boy Between Worlds: A Biography by Annejet van der Zijl

When they fell in love in 1928, Rika and Waldemar could not have been more different. She was a thirty-seven-year-old Dutch-born mother, estranged from her husband. He was her immigrant boarder, not yet twenty, and a wealthy Surinamese descendant of slaves. The child they have together, brown skinned and blue eyed, brings the couple great joy yet raises some eyebrows. Until the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands explodes their promising life. What unfolds is more than the astonishing story of a love that prevailed over convention. Its also the quest of a young boy. Through the cruelty of World War II, he will fight for a connection between his fathers South American birthplace and his mothers European traditions. Lost and displaced for much of his life, but with a legacy of resilience in his blood, he will struggle to find his place in the world.

The Pale-Faced Lie: A True Story by David Crow

Growing up on the Navajo Indian Reservation, David Crow and his three siblings idolized their dad. Tall, strong, smart, and brave, the self-taught Cherokee regaled his family with stories of his World War II feats. But as time passed, David discovered the other side of Thurston Crow, the ex-con with his own code of ethics that justified cruelty, violence, lieseven murder.

Prognosis: A Memoir of My Brain by Sarah Vallance

When Sarah Vallance is thrown from a horse and suffers a jarring blow to the head, she believes shes walked away unscathed. The next morning, things take a sharp turn as shes led from work to the emergency room. By the end of the week, a neurologist delivers a devastating prognosis: Sarah suffered a traumatic brain injury that has caused her IQ to plummet, with no hope of recovery. Her brain has irrevocably changed.

Born Survivors: Three Young Mothers and Their Extraordinary Story of Courage, Defiance, and Hope by Wendy Holden

The Nazis murdered their husbands but concentration camp prisoners Priska, Rachel, and Anka would not let evil take their unborn children tooa remarkable true story that will appeal to readers of The Lost and The Nazi Officers Wife, Born Survivors celebrates three mothers who defied death to give their children life.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Business/Money

Girl On Fire: How to Choose Yourself, Burn the Rule Book, and Blaze Your Own Trail in Life and Business by Cara Alwill Leyba

Who would you be if you stopped following *their* rules? What would you create if you create if you had nothing holding you back? Now that women entrepreneurs are banding together in sisterhood and realizing the importance of collaboration over competition, its time to take things to the next level. Its time to rise up, together, and challenge the status quo. Its time to question the way things have been done in the past, to write our own rules, and do life and business OUR way.

Understanding Your Clients through Human Design: The Breakthrough Technology by Robin Winn MFT

Human Design is the next evolution after Myers-Briggs, the Enneagram, and other innovative profiling systems. Whether your field is psychotherapy, recovery, coaching, or healing arts, and whether your clients are individuals, couples, families, or business teams, Understanding Your Clients through Human Design will empower your work and call you to reconsider how you approach people.

The 60 Minute Startup: A Proven System to Start Your Business in 1 Hour a Day and Get Your First Paying Customers in 30 Days (or Less) by Ramesh Dontha

Over 543,000 new businesses are started every month. Most fail. Many never get a paying customer. Why? Because new entrepreneurs are told to start with why, take internet marketing courses, and spend hours doing market research. Do these time-intensive activities attract customers? Make sales? Create profit? No! If youre ready to finally start a profitable business and dump the bad business advice that keeps you confused, overwhelmed, and broke, The 60 Minute Startup is for you. This book gives you a proven system on how to start a business online in just one hour a day and get your first paying customers in one month (or less).

Buy Hold Sell: The Street SmartWay to Real Estate Wealthby Lou Brown

At the turn of the 19th century, billionaire Andrew Carnegie famously said that 90% of millionaires got their wealth by investing in real estate. And guess what? Most millionaires, and even the ultra-rich, would tell you that is still true. Spend a few minutes Googling the phrase should I invest in real estate and it will quickly become clear that real estate investing is a great idea. What isnt so clear, though, is how to get started! Thats what this book will show you. Lou Brown bought his first piece of real estate in 1976 and never stopped. Over the years hes experienced more lessons from the school of hard knocks than he can count and has built a tremendously profitable real estate portfolio. Along the way, Lou discovered that he had a knack for structuring win-win deals, plus creating contracts and paperwork that gave him a competitive edge over other investors. In 1987 he began teaching others his proprietary method of investing, including the unique, proven Buy-Hold-Sell system he created the subject of this book.

A Beginners Guide to the Stock Market: Everything You Need to Start Making Money Today by Matthew R. Kratter

This book will teach you everything that you need to know to start making money in the stock market today. Dont gamble with your hard-earned money. If you are going to make a lot of money, you need to know how the stock market really works. You need to avoid the pitfalls and costly mistakes that beginners make. And you need time-tested trading and investing strategies that actually work. This book gives you everything that you will need. Its a simple road map that anyone can follow.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Graphic Novels

Akai Chapter 0 How To Become Strong by Anfernee Robinson

Akai is a young child with high hopes; bound in a society full of undiscovered powers; raised by Grandma in the Jex helps him develop a strong will. He will one day, begin a trial to Heavens Gate. The journey is a troubled one. The Black Orlov chain opens unparalleled events. Will Akai reach his Ultimate goal? Or will Akai bend fate forever?

Sandman Vol. 1: Preludes & Nocturnes 30th Anniversary Edition by Neil Gaiman

New York Times best-selling author Neil Gaimans transcendent series THE SANDMAN is often hailed as the definitive Vertigo title and one of the finest achievements in graphic storytelling. Gaiman created an unforgettable tale of the forces that exist beyond life and death by weaving ancient mythology, folklore and fairy tales with his own distinct narrative vision. In PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, an occultist attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. After his 70 year imprisonment and eventual escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On his arduous journey Morpheus encounters Lucifer, John Constantine, and an all-powerful madman.

The Essential Calvin and Hobbes: A Calvin and Hobbes Treasury by Bill Watterson

Bill Wattersons Calvin and Hobbes has been a worldwide favorite since its introduction in 1985. The strip follows the richly imaginative adventures of Calvin and his trusty tiger, Hobbes. Whether a poignant look at serious family issues or a round of time-travel (with the aid of a well-labeled cardboard box), Calvin and Hobbes will astound and delight you.

Fire Force Vol. 1 by Atsushi Ohkubo

The city of Tokyo is plagued by a deadly phenomenon: spontaneous human combustion! Luckily, a special team is there to quench the inferno: The Fire Force! The fire soldiers at Special Fire Cathedral 8 are about to get a unique addition. Enter Shinra, a boy who possesses the power to run at the speed of a rocket, leaving behind the famous devils footprints (and destroying his shoes in the process). Can Shinra and his cooleagues discover the source of this strange epidemic before the city burns to ashes?

Anne of Green Gables: A Graphic Novel by Mariah Marsden

The magic of L.M. Montgomerys treasured classic is reimagined in a whimsically-illustrated graphic novel adaptation perfect for newcomers and kindred spirits alike. When Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert decide to adopt an orphan who can help manage their family farm, they have no idea what delightful trouble awaits them. With flame-red hair and an unstoppable imagination, 11-year-old Anne Shirley takes Green Gables by storm. Annes misadventures bring a little romance to the lives of everyone she meets: her bosom friend, Diana Barry; the town gossip, Mrs. Lynde; and that infuriating tease, Gilbert Blythe. From triumphs and thrills to the depths of despair, Anne turns each everyday moment into something extraordinary.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Mystery/Thriller/Suspense

When We Believed in Mermaids by Barbara ONeal

Her sister has been dead for fifteen years when she sees her on the TV news Josie Bianci was killed years ago on a train during a terrorist attack. Gone forever. Its what her sister, Kit, an ER doctor in Santa Cruz, has always believed. Yet all it takes is a few heart-wrenching seconds to upend Kits world. Live coverage of a club fire in Auckland has captured the image of a woman stumbling through the smoke and debris. Her resemblance to Josie is unbelievable. And unmistakable. With it comes a flood of emotionsgrief, loss, and angerthat Kit finally has a chance to put to rest: by finding the sister whos been living a lie.

Uptown Thief by Aya de Len

Marisol Rivera barely survived being abused with nowhere to turn. So theres nothing she wont do to keep her Lower East Side womens health clinic open and give disadvantaged women new lives. Running an exclusive escort service for New York Citys rich and powerful 1 percent is the perfect way to bankroll her businessnot to mention the perfect cover for robbing corrupt CEOs. And when times get even tougher, pulling a heist on a mega-billionaire will secure the clinics futureand her gorgeous crewsfor good. . . Theres just one problem: Marisol didnt anticipate bad news even more dangerous than her curves.

Unspeakable Things by Jess Lourey

Cassie McDowells life in 1980s Minnesota seems perfectly wholesome. She lives on a farm, loves school, and has a crush on the nicest boy in class. Yes, there are her parents strange parties and their parade of deviant guests, but shes grown accustomed to them. All that changes when someone comes hunting in Lilydale. One by one, local boys go missing. One by one, they return changedviolent, moody, and withdrawn.

We Were Mothers: A Novel by Katie Sise

A scandalous revelation is about to devastate a picturesque town where the houses are immaculate and the neighborhoods are tightly knit. Devoted mother Cora OConnell has found the journal of her friend Laurels daughtera beautiful college student who lives next doorrevealing an illicit encounter. Hours later, Laurel makes a shattering discovery of her own: her daughter has vanished without a trace. Over the course of one weekend, the crises of two close families are about to trigger a chain reaction that will expose a far more disturbing web of secrets. Now everything is at stake as theyre forced to confront the lies they have told in order to survive.

In the Dark by Loreth Anne White

The promise of a luxury vacation at a secluded wilderness spa has brought together eight lucky guests. But nothing is what they were led to believe. As a fierce storm barrels down and all contact with the outside is cut off, the guests fear that its not a getaway. Its a trap. Each one has a secret. Each one has something to hide. And now, as darkness closes in, they all have something to fearincluding one another.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Politics/Social Science

The Gene: An Intimate History by Siddhartha Mukherjee

Dr. Siddhartha Mukherjee dazzled readers with his Pulitzer Prize-winning The Emperor of All Maladies in 2010. That achievement was evidently just a warm-up for his virtuoso performance in The Gene: An Intimate History, in which he braids science, history, and memoir into an epic with all the range and biblical thunder of Paradise Lost (The New York Times). In this biography Mukherjee brings to life the quest to understand human heredity and its surprising influence on our lives, personalities, identities, fates, and choices.

A River in Darkness: One Mans Escape from North Korea by Masaji Ishikawa

Half-Korean, half-Japanese, Masaji Ishikawa has spent his whole life feeling like a man without a country. This feeling only deepened when his family moved from Japan to North Korea when Ishikawa was just thirteen years old, and unwittingly became members of the lowest social caste. His father, himself a Korean national, was lured to the new Communist country by promises of abundant work, education for his children, and a higher station in society. But the reality of their new life was far from utopian. In this memoir translated from the original Japanese, Ishikawa candidly recounts his tumultuous upbringing and the brutal thirty-six years he spent living under a crushing totalitarian regime, as well as the challenges he faced repatriating to Japan after barely escaping North Korea with his life. A River in Darkness is not only a shocking portrait of life inside the country but a testament to the dignityand indomitable natureof the human spirit.

The Mueller Report by The Washington Post

Read the findings of the Special Counsels investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election, complete with accompanying analysis by the Post reporters whove covered the story from the beginning.

War on Peace: The End of Diplomacy and the Decline of American Influence by Ronan Farrow

US foreign policy is undergoing a dire transformation, forever changing Americas place in the world. Institutions of diplomacy and development are bleeding out after deep budget cuts; the diplomats who make Americas deals and protect its citizens around the world are walking out in droves. Offices across the State Department sit empty, while abroad the military-industrial complex has assumed the work once undertaken by peacemakers. Were becoming a nation that shoots first and asks questions later. In an astonishing journey from the corridors of power in Washington, DC, to some of the most remote and dangerous places on earthAfghanistan, Somalia, and North Korea among themacclaimed investigative journalist Ronan Farrow illuminates one of the most consequential and poorly understood changes in American history. His firsthand experience as a former State Department official affords a personal look at some of the last standard bearers of traditional statecraft, including Richard Holbrooke, who made peace in Bosnia and died while trying to do so in Afghanistan.

Mossad: The Greatest Missions of the Israeli Secret Service by Michael Bar-Zohar

For decades, Israels renowned security arm, the Mossad, has been widely recognized as the best intelligence service in the world. In Mossad, authors Michael Bar-Zohar and Nissim Mishal take us behind the closed curtain with riveting, eye-opening, boots-on-the-ground accounts of the most dangerous, most crucial missions in the agencys 60-year history. These are real Mission: Impossible true stories brimming with high-octane actionfrom the breathtaking capture of Nazi executioner Adolph Eichmann to the recent elimination of key Iranian nuclear scientists. Anyone who is fascinated by the world of international espionage, intelligence, and covert Black-Ops warfare will find Mossad electrifying reading.

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/50-of-the-best-kindle-unlimited-books-you-can-read-in-2020

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Louise Redknapp: Strictly put the fire back in my belly but it didnt break up my relationship

New Post has been published on https://relationshipqia.com/must-see/louise-redknapp-strictly-put-the-fire-back-in-my-belly-but-it-didnt-break-up-my-relationship/

Louise Redknapp: Strictly put the fire back in my belly but it didnt break up my relationship

For 19 years, the former Eternal star gave up everything to play housewife to her famous footballer husband. So what does it feel like to have walked out on that life and reinvented herself?

The night before I meet Louise Redknapp, I go to see her in her latest West End show, 9 to 5 The Musical. She plays Violet, the character made famous by Lili Tomlin in the classic 1980 film, and in many ways the most obviously feminist character in the story. Redknapp herself is very enjoyable to watch, stomping around the stage, furiously pointing out that men get promotions for laughing at the bosss jokes while she is not even thanked for making the coffee. But, not long ago, this casting would have seemed bizarre.

Redknapp has been in the public eye for a quarter of a century, but she has never exactly been associated with feminism. After studying at the Italia Conti stage school, Louise Nurding, as she was then known, shot to fame at the age of 18 in the early 90s girl group Eternal, and then cemented her celebrity status by achieving that ultimate 90s ambition, marrying a footballer Jamie Redknapp, the son of manager Harry. Their telegenic union the pretty pop star and equally pretty sports star predated the Beckhams, but the Redknapps were a less flashy proposition. When their first child was born, in 2004, she quit her by then solo music career to live in what she frequently described as domestic bliss. Redknapp came across as sweet, unthreatening and a bit bland, and seemed destined for a contented life as a Surrey housewife with her two sons, Charley, now 14, and Beau, 10, living among the footballing dynasty. But then, in 2017, Redknapp did something that no one expected: she walked out of her marriage.

I meet Redknapp, 44, in a room in the Savoy hotel in London, just above the theatre where she is appearing in 9 to 5. As well as performing tonight, she will spend the afternoon finishing work on her upcoming album, Heavy Love, her first in 18 years, which will be released in October. Whatever emotional toll her divorce which was finalised in December 2017 has exacted on her, it has certainly motivated, or freed, her professionally.

Redknapp as Violet Newstead (centre) with Natalie McQueen and Amber Davies in 9 to 5 The Musical. Photograph: Simon Turtle

In tight black trousers, ankle boots and a loose dark top, her hair long and highlighted in various shades of gold and auburn, she looks almost identical to how she did in her pop heyday. She embraces me with the easy warmth of one who is very practised in the art of making strangers like her.

Did you see the show last night? Did you like it? Its fun, right? Oh good, Im so glad. You liked it, right? she says with more nervousness than I had expected: she was the one, after all, who chose a new storyline, and walked away.

We talk about the show, and Redknapp eagerly brings up how timely its revival is, off the back of the #MeToo movement. She insists she never experienced any sexual harassment when she was working as a 90s pop star and appearing in mens magazines: Maybe because I was so young, she suggests, which isnt the most credible reason. Or maybe because [Eternal] were so successful so quickly, so the record company cocooned us, she adds, which seems more plausible.

And yet she does feel a personal connection to 9 to 5: You know, its about female empowerment and I think Im at a stage of my life when I really need that, to stand up and be strong, she says.

Although Redknapp makes frequent references during our conversation to her gang of girlfriends, seeing her onstage the night before was the first time I had seen her surrounded by women since her Eternal days. For the past 20 years, whenever she was photographed she was invariably with her husband. I tell her it always surprised me that she was never part of the group of high-profile wives and girlfriends of other footballers, given how ready-made she seemed for that role. But she was never photographed out having a laugh with Colleen Rooney and Cheryl Cole. I think Jamie, being that slightly bit more old school, didnt want any of that. His sport is what comes first, no circus around it. So I just kept to myself, she says.

When Redknapp confirmed, in September 2017, that her seemingly perfect marriage was over, the circus around the two of them could hardly have been more hysterical. While the British public is very used to footballers leaving their wives, no one seemed to know what to make of the narrative being reversed.

It was more mutual than that but, yes, I moved out, she says, carefully, when I ask if she initiated the divorce. She was followed by battalions of paparazzi every night and the celebrity press tutted at her late nights on the town (to the theatre, where, at the time, she was starring in Cabaret).

With Jamie Redknapp in 2010, seven years before they split up. Photograph: Paul Grover/Rex/Shutterstock

At around the same time, Wayne Rooney was accused, again, of infidelity when he was caught drink driving with a young woman who was not his wife. But whereas Rooneys actions were treated with a benign just-Wayne-being-Wayne shrug by the public, Redknapp was nationally castigated for having a midlife crisis and abandoning her children. Did she notice the disparity between the coverage of the two stories?

I did. I felt it. And I felt really, really bullied. It made me want to scream. Just because I went back to work and my marriage wasnt working out doesnt mean I wasnt with my kids, she says with a rod of fury in her voice. And, yeah, when I was in Cabaret I wasnt putting them to bed every night, but its no different to a man in the City working late.

Or Jamie doing late-night football commentary? Yeah, on A League of Their Own. Jamie would then take the kids on holiday and the papers would say: Oh, what an amazing dad. And he is an amazing dad; I cannot say a bad word about Jamie when it comes to being a dad. But no one patted me on the back when Id taken the kids on Easter holiday on my own for the past 10 years. Jamie had to work doing the football, it was school holidays, so Id take them on holiday and never once did anyone say: What a great mum. It was really tough sitting back and not speaking up.

There was such widespread bafflement at Redknapps decision to leave her marriage that there was inevitable speculation about why. Many cited Strictly Come Dancing, on which Redknapp had appeared the previous year, and its record of ending relationships. Strictly put the fire back in my belly, but it didnt break up my relationship. After 20 years of marriage, it takes a lot more than that, scoffs Redknapp.

It was also suggested that Redknapp was having an affair with the model Daisy Lowe, who had appeared on Strictly with her. Redknapp reels back against the sofa when I mention this.

I really think the double standards were coming into play there, she says. Because people were adamant there had to be a specific reason for you leaving your husband? She nods: Yeah, and Daisy and I only went out together four times or something. So the idea [that I left my husband for Lowe] I remember my kids saying: Mum, are you going out with Daisy Lowe? And I had to say: Guys, no. I became peoples morning entertainment while they read their paper on the train and ate their croissant. I tried to laugh it off, but the damage these stories were doing to me and those around me was huge.

Redknapp or Louise Nurding as she was then with her Eternal bandmates in 1994. Photograph: Tony Larkin/Rex/Shutterstock

In order to understand the end of a marriage it is necessary to understand its beginnings and, for all the lurid speculation, the path that led the Redknapps to divorce was all too prosaic. When they married in 1998, she was at least as big a star as him, but she happily gave up her music career to be a wife and mother: It took me so long to get pregnant the first time four years so I was just so in love with my little boy, she says. And, for the first seven or eight years, it was quite nice to not have to worry about where your records going, or if people like you. But as time went on, Id drop the kids off at school, go home, walk the dogs and then go home and think: I have five hours until school pick-up. Thats a long day. It was fine when they were young, because Id pick them up at 12. Then it changed; theyre at school and doing sport, Jamie was doing his thing, and there was pure panic. I was lonely and I felt like I had nothing to say.

Redknapp and her ex-husband have been careful in speaking only positively of one another throughout their divorce, but hints of other narratives shine through the cracks. She refers to him as a family man and their marriage as traditional, and while he grew up in a close, old-fashioned family, she was the daughter of a very independent working mum, and, yes, maybe subconsciously, she agrees, that might have created some problems between them. She was not a football fan (No, never, she says, firmly and proudly), so I ask if it was ever a tiny bit dull being ensconced with the Redknapps, given that her then husband, father-in-law and husbands cousin, Frank Lampard, are all football royalty. I think I just got used to it, she says with a winning smile.

Redknapps explanation about the split is that she had low self-esteem and didnt feel able to say she wanted to start working again, and in no way was that her ex-husbands fault. I wish Id spoken up and said how I felt, but I thought everyone would think I was nuts and say: Why are you low? Look at you, youre so lucky.

But if you had spoken up, would Jamie have been OK with you going back on the stage and in the studio? She pauses: I dont know. But at least Id have known I tried, she says.

So it was easier to leave than to say anything? Her voice drops: Maybe. We women dont make it easy for ourselves.

Given Strictlys record of ending relationships, I ask if she agreed to be on the show because she saw it as a way out of her marriage. You know, I like to think no. I like to think not at all. I think I just went into Strictly looking for something to do.

These days, Jamie still lives in the Surrey family home and Redknapp is a few minutes away and they share custody of their children. It is clear that she feels liberated by her divorce, so I ask if she plans to revert to her maiden name. She looks poleaxed by the suggestion. Ummm no. Its such a mum thing, but the thought of not having the same name as my kids, I could cry thinking about it. But maybe if Jamie gets married Id have to change it I dont know how that works, she says with an anxious giggle.

This leads us to talking about dating, and whereas Jamie has been photographed with several women, Redknapp has remained single. Its really hard for women. Im beginning to think Im never going to meet anyone Ive not been out for a meal, just me and a guy in a restaurant, in two years. That makes me sound really sad, doesnt it?

It takes a while to get over a 19-year marriage. Yeah, I think its easier for men, she says.

With her dance partner Kevin Clifton on Strictly Come Dancing in 2016. Photograph: PA/Guy Levy/BBC

It doesnt upset her when she sees her ex-husband out with other women (But, yes, of course, its hard for the boys. I tell them, Dads a single man and hes doing nothing wrong, she says). Sometimes, though, it is a bit strange. The day before we meet, he was photographed with the British model Lizzie Bowden, who was widely described in the press as a Louise Redknapp lookalike. It is kinda weird! And then I start looking at them thinking, Do they look like me? But hes got his taste, she says with a shrug.

I like Redknapp. Yes, she has that tendency, common to graduates of stage school, of affecting immediate intimacy, but there is an emotional honesty to her that is almost certainly born from the ordeal of the past two years. It is impossible not to cheer for a woman who for so long was defined in relation to others first a pop group, then a husband taking the risk to strike out on her own. And although many were surprised when she left her high-profile marriage, there has long been a more independent streak in her than her hotter-than-average girl-next-door image suggested. She did, after all, leave Eternal in 1995 after their hugely successful debut album to launch her solo career.

Id just had enough, she says. We were very different and had different directions. We werent harmonised. Girl bands are tough.

Does she mean they were fighting? Not fighting, just, um, different, she says, diplomatically.

She talks excitedly about her plans for the next decade: more albums, more musicals, and, of course, bringing up two teenagers.

But what Id really like to do is buy the rights to a movie and produce a stage show from it, she says.

Any in particular? Thelma and Louise, she replies, and smiles.

Louise Redknapps new single, Stretch, is out now. She appears in 9 to 5 The Musical until 29 June

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

[mysteriouslyzealouspandalov-blog]

Louise Redknapp: Strictly put the fire back in my belly but it didnt break up my relationship

New Post has been published on https://relationshipguideto.com/must-see/louise-redknapp-strictly-put-the-fire-back-in-my-belly-but-it-didnt-break-up-my-relationship/

Louise Redknapp: Strictly put the fire back in my belly but it didnt break up my relationship

For 19 years, the former Eternal star gave up everything to play housewife to her famous footballer husband. So what does it feel like to have walked out on that life and reinvented herself?

The night before I meet Louise Redknapp, I go to see her in her latest West End show, 9 to 5 The Musical. She plays Violet, the character made famous by Lili Tomlin in the classic 1980 film, and in many ways the most obviously feminist character in the story. Redknapp herself is very enjoyable to watch, stomping around the stage, furiously pointing out that men get promotions for laughing at the bosss jokes while she is not even thanked for making the coffee. But, not long ago, this casting would have seemed bizarre.

Redknapp has been in the public eye for a quarter of a century, but she has never exactly been associated with feminism. After studying at the Italia Conti stage school, Louise Nurding, as she was then known, shot to fame at the age of 18 in the early 90s girl group Eternal, and then cemented her celebrity status by achieving that ultimate 90s ambition, marrying a footballer Jamie Redknapp, the son of manager Harry. Their telegenic union the pretty pop star and equally pretty sports star predated the Beckhams, but the Redknapps were a less flashy proposition. When their first child was born, in 2004, she quit her by then solo music career to live in what she frequently described as domestic bliss. Redknapp came across as sweet, unthreatening and a bit bland, and seemed destined for a contented life as a Surrey housewife with her two sons, Charley, now 14, and Beau, 10, living among the footballing dynasty. But then, in 2017, Redknapp did something that no one expected: she walked out of her marriage.

I meet Redknapp, 44, in a room in the Savoy hotel in London, just above the theatre where she is appearing in 9 to 5. As well as performing tonight, she will spend the afternoon finishing work on her upcoming album, Heavy Love, her first in 18 years, which will be released in October. Whatever emotional toll her divorce which was finalised in December 2017 has exacted on her, it has certainly motivated, or freed, her professionally.

Redknapp as Violet Newstead (centre) with Natalie McQueen and Amber Davies in 9 to 5 The Musical. Photograph: Simon Turtle

In tight black trousers, ankle boots and a loose dark top, her hair long and highlighted in various shades of gold and auburn, she looks almost identical to how she did in her pop heyday. She embraces me with the easy warmth of one who is very practised in the art of making strangers like her.

Did you see the show last night? Did you like it? Its fun, right? Oh good, Im so glad. You liked it, right? she says with more nervousness than I had expected: she was the one, after all, who chose a new storyline, and walked away.

We talk about the show, and Redknapp eagerly brings up how timely its revival is, off the back of the #MeToo movement. She insists she never experienced any sexual harassment when she was working as a 90s pop star and appearing in mens magazines: Maybe because I was so young, she suggests, which isnt the most credible reason. Or maybe because [Eternal] were so successful so quickly, so the record company cocooned us, she adds, which seems more plausible.

And yet she does feel a personal connection to 9 to 5: You know, its about female empowerment and I think Im at a stage of my life when I really need that, to stand up and be strong, she says.

Although Redknapp makes frequent references during our conversation to her gang of girlfriends, seeing her onstage the night before was the first time I had seen her surrounded by women since her Eternal days. For the past 20 years, whenever she was photographed she was invariably with her husband. I tell her it always surprised me that she was never part of the group of high-profile wives and girlfriends of other footballers, given how ready-made she seemed for that role. But she was never photographed out having a laugh with Colleen Rooney and Cheryl Cole. I think Jamie, being that slightly bit more old school, didnt want any of that. His sport is what comes first, no circus around it. So I just kept to myself, she says.

When Redknapp confirmed, in September 2017, that her seemingly perfect marriage was over, the circus around the two of them could hardly have been more hysterical. While the British public is very used to footballers leaving their wives, no one seemed to know what to make of the narrative being reversed.

It was more mutual than that but, yes, I moved out, she says, carefully, when I ask if she initiated the divorce. She was followed by battalions of paparazzi every night and the celebrity press tutted at her late nights on the town (to the theatre, where, at the time, she was starring in Cabaret).

With Jamie Redknapp in 2010, seven years before they split up. Photograph: Paul Grover/Rex/Shutterstock

At around the same time, Wayne Rooney was accused, again, of infidelity when he was caught drink driving with a young woman who was not his wife. But whereas Rooneys actions were treated with a benign just-Wayne-being-Wayne shrug by the public, Redknapp was nationally castigated for having a midlife crisis and abandoning her children. Did she notice the disparity between the coverage of the two stories?

I did. I felt it. And I felt really, really bullied. It made me want to scream. Just because I went back to work and my marriage wasnt working out doesnt mean I wasnt with my kids, she says with a rod of fury in her voice. And, yeah, when I was in Cabaret I wasnt putting them to bed every night, but its no different to a man in the City working late.

Or Jamie doing late-night football commentary? Yeah, on A League of Their Own. Jamie would then take the kids on holiday and the papers would say: Oh, what an amazing dad. And he is an amazing dad; I cannot say a bad word about Jamie when it comes to being a dad. But no one patted me on the back when Id taken the kids on Easter holiday on my own for the past 10 years. Jamie had to work doing the football, it was school holidays, so Id take them on holiday and never once did anyone say: What a great mum. It was really tough sitting back and not speaking up.

There was such widespread bafflement at Redknapps decision to leave her marriage that there was inevitable speculation about why. Many cited Strictly Come Dancing, on which Redknapp had appeared the previous year, and its record of ending relationships. Strictly put the fire back in my belly, but it didnt break up my relationship. After 20 years of marriage, it takes a lot more than that, scoffs Redknapp.

It was also suggested that Redknapp was having an affair with the model Daisy Lowe, who had appeared on Strictly with her. Redknapp reels back against the sofa when I mention this.

I really think the double standards were coming into play there, she says. Because people were adamant there had to be a specific reason for you leaving your husband? She nods: Yeah, and Daisy and I only went out together four times or something. So the idea [that I left my husband for Lowe] I remember my kids saying: Mum, are you going out with Daisy Lowe? And I had to say: Guys, no. I became peoples morning entertainment while they read their paper on the train and ate their croissant. I tried to laugh it off, but the damage these stories were doing to me and those around me was huge.

Redknapp or Louise Nurding as she was then with her Eternal bandmates in 1994. Photograph: Tony Larkin/Rex/Shutterstock

In order to understand the end of a marriage it is necessary to understand its beginnings and, for all the lurid speculation, the path that led the Redknapps to divorce was all too prosaic. When they married in 1998, she was at least as big a star as him, but she happily gave up her music career to be a wife and mother: It took me so long to get pregnant the first time four years so I was just so in love with my little boy, she says. And, for the first seven or eight years, it was quite nice to not have to worry about where your records going, or if people like you. But as time went on, Id drop the kids off at school, go home, walk the dogs and then go home and think: I have five hours until school pick-up. Thats a long day. It was fine when they were young, because Id pick them up at 12. Then it changed; theyre at school and doing sport, Jamie was doing his thing, and there was pure panic. I was lonely and I felt like I had nothing to say.

Redknapp and her ex-husband have been careful in speaking only positively of one another throughout their divorce, but hints of other narratives shine through the cracks. She refers to him as a family man and their marriage as traditional, and while he grew up in a close, old-fashioned family, she was the daughter of a very independent working mum, and, yes, maybe subconsciously, she agrees, that might have created some problems between them. She was not a football fan (No, never, she says, firmly and proudly), so I ask if it was ever a tiny bit dull being ensconced with the Redknapps, given that her then husband, father-in-law and husbands cousin, Frank Lampard, are all football royalty. I think I just got used to it, she says with a winning smile.

Redknapps explanation about the split is that she had low self-esteem and didnt feel able to say she wanted to start working again, and in no way was that her ex-husbands fault. I wish Id spoken up and said how I felt, but I thought everyone would think I was nuts and say: Why are you low? Look at you, youre so lucky.

But if you had spoken up, would Jamie have been OK with you going back on the stage and in the studio? She pauses: I dont know. But at least Id have known I tried, she says.

So it was easier to leave than to say anything? Her voice drops: Maybe. We women dont make it easy for ourselves.

Given Strictlys record of ending relationships, I ask if she agreed to be on the show because she saw it as a way out of her marriage. You know, I like to think no. I like to think not at all. I think I just went into Strictly looking for something to do.

These days, Jamie still lives in the Surrey family home and Redknapp is a few minutes away and they share custody of their children. It is clear that she feels liberated by her divorce, so I ask if she plans to revert to her maiden name. She looks poleaxed by the suggestion. Ummm no. Its such a mum thing, but the thought of not having the same name as my kids, I could cry thinking about it. But maybe if Jamie gets married Id have to change it I dont know how that works, she says with an anxious giggle.

This leads us to talking about dating, and whereas Jamie has been photographed with several women, Redknapp has remained single. Its really hard for women. Im beginning to think Im never going to meet anyone Ive not been out for a meal, just me and a guy in a restaurant, in two years. That makes me sound really sad, doesnt it?

It takes a while to get over a 19-year marriage. Yeah, I think its easier for men, she says.

With her dance partner Kevin Clifton on Strictly Come Dancing in 2016. Photograph: PA/Guy Levy/BBC

It doesnt upset her when she sees her ex-husband out with other women (But, yes, of course, its hard for the boys. I tell them, Dads a single man and hes doing nothing wrong, she says). Sometimes, though, it is a bit strange. The day before we meet, he was photographed with the British model Lizzie Bowden, who was widely described in the press as a Louise Redknapp lookalike. It is kinda weird! And then I start looking at them thinking, Do they look like me? But hes got his taste, she says with a shrug.

I like Redknapp. Yes, she has that tendency, common to graduates of stage school, of affecting immediate intimacy, but there is an emotional honesty to her that is almost certainly born from the ordeal of the past two years. It is impossible not to cheer for a woman who for so long was defined in relation to others first a pop group, then a husband taking the risk to strike out on her own. And although many were surprised when she left her high-profile marriage, there has long been a more independent streak in her than her hotter-than-average girl-next-door image suggested. She did, after all, leave Eternal in 1995 after their hugely successful debut album to launch her solo career.

Id just had enough, she says. We were very different and had different directions. We werent harmonised. Girl bands are tough.

Does she mean they were fighting? Not fighting, just, um, different, she says, diplomatically.

She talks excitedly about her plans for the next decade: more albums, more musicals, and, of course, bringing up two teenagers.

But what Id really like to do is buy the rights to a movie and produce a stage show from it, she says.

Any in particular? Thelma and Louise, she replies, and smiles.

Louise Redknapps new single, Stretch, is out now. She appears in 9 to 5 The Musical until 29 June

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

[adambstingus]

Old Records Never Die by Eric Spitznagel – the real High Fidelity

Eric Spitznagels account of a chase for old albums ends up as a tale of a midlife crisis, albeit one which sadly neglects to notice that women, too, love vinyl

I am writing this review at my teenage record store in Boise, Idaho. According to Google Maps I am approximately 5,147 miles away from my current home in Berlin, Germany, and 2,468 miles away from Brooklyn, New York, where, for seven years, I ran a twice-monthly vinyl club. It involved hauling two turntables and a mixer to our local bar in a granny cart so that I and several dozen friends and total strangers could play the same records we played in our teenage bedrooms, but with the beer we could now drink and the professional sound system we never had.

This is the same store where, during my unfortunate hair metal phase, I bought Bon Jovi and Cinderella. Its also where, three years ago, I rifled through the rare 45s box and came back with the first Green River single for our annual Grunge New Years Eve party. Its where I scored my first Dead Kennedys records (carefully hiding the parental advisory stickers) and my first Bauhaus T-shirt (later gifted by my little brother to his girlfriend, sadly). And its where, two nights ago, I had beer with my high school friend right before she snuck off to see a Peter Murphy acoustic set that ended with her giving him a surprise greeting in his tour bus.

Walking into his childhood record store after 20 years, Eric Spitznagel, journalist and author of the memoir Old Records Never Die, sees the usual posters arranged in seemingly haphazard order Tupac, Tom Waits, Dylan, the Ramones and writes: These were posters you might see in any record store in any city in the world and the placement felt comforting and familiar, like the stained glass windows at the church you went to growing up. Youd seen the same colors and designs a thousand times before, but somehow the windows in your church seemed unique and inimitable. So true, my friend, I think, swiping my debit card to pay for a T-shirt with the logo for my own imitable church of vinyl.

Picture Rob Gordon, the record-obsessed protagonist of Nick Hornbys High Fidelity, then add 10 years: At 45, Spitznagel has both a wife (Kelly, whom he met when both worked at Chicagos Second City) and the kid (a charming three-year-old named Charlie).

But while Robs records (temporarily) cost him his girl, our friend Eric has the family but misses his discs: sold throughout the 90s when selling records was a victimless crime, for beer money, tacos and Trader Joes wine (all six Clash albums including the Hitsville 7-inch! paid for a a week of groceries at the liquor store down the block). In his day job as an entertainment reporter he interviews Questlove, who tells Spitznagel he still has every record he ever owned, all 70,000 of them. Spitznagel, inspired, finds his mid-life mission (or crisis): never mind the mistress and the sports car, hes going to get his records back. And not just copies of the same records. No, this guy is out to get the exact same records he sold more than a decade before, which will lead him back to his childhood home, his college radio station, muddy crawl spaces, and the musty basement of some dude who, a few decades before, once owned his now-defunct hometown record store.

Vinyl is making a comeback, even among kids who never grew up with records (many of whom showed up at my vinyl nights). But for those of us of certain age born in the 70s, the generation who lost our collections to exes, moms basement clearing and iTunes the idea that one would know an album is ones own original copy is less lunatic than it first may seem. Records, writes Spitznagel, are are bulky, inconvenient, easily damaged objects. Vinyl is like skin that changes, in good and bad ways, over a lifetime. Skin gets damaged, intentionally or by accident maybe it gets burned, or tattooed or scarred but it always retains some of its original character. Its the same skin its just weathered some life.

Spitznagel has a few clues to go on: his copy of Elton Johns Greatest Hits smells like cherries from the Lions Club garage sale, held in 1977 in a former cherry processing plant. Billy Joels The Stranger smells like Calvin Kleins Obsession. The Replacements Let It Be smells like weed. Bon Jovis Livin on a Prayer will have a girls phone number from a 708 area code. Around this time, an overarching theme begins to emerge: the records he most wants involve hot girls from his past he either had sex with, or wanted to have sex with. Maybe were not so far from the mistress and the sports car after all.

Records, like comics, have long been considered a dude-centric pastime, and Spitznagel, whose previous six books include Planet Baywatch, Fast Forward (Confessions of a Porn Screenwriter), and Ron Jeremy: The Hardest (Working) Man in Show Business, isnt breaking any molds here. He compares selling his record collection to the guy who gets kissed by a hot girl and decides to get rid of his porn collection immediately because I wont be needing this anymore. At the Pixies reunion show, he sees a sea of fortysomething dudes with Black Francis man-nipples, (were there no Kim Deal fans in the audience?); at the Replacements reunion show, he mourns his uncool dad status. One is tempted to remind him that Westerberg, now 56, is also a dad, and that chicks, too I am one own Let it Be, on TwinTone.

When he goes to a record swap, I laughed at the line when he realizes that harrowing moment when you realize the only thing separating you and a civil war re-enactor is better underwear but wondered if he may have passed, say, the divorced fortysomething mother who used to DJ with me twice a month and whose teenage kids now buy her records for every holiday and birthday. And when he blows the daycare money buying records in Nashville prompting a VHS cassette of Cocksucker Blues to be hurled at the wall by his exasperated wife I thought of the hundreds of hours I have spent crate-diving and DJing next to my own boyfriend, and say, my married friends Jake and Lisa who host their own DJ show together. Arent there any records Kelly might like? If they cant get a babysitter to make date night to the reunion shows, couldnt he at least make the woman a mixtape?

But around this time, Spitznagel seems to be thinking along the same lines. When he finally scores a copy of Van Morrisons Dweller on the Threshold, the song that was playing when he lost his virginity no wait, when he first realized sex could be fun he admits he finds it totally unsettling to see his three-year-old son do a silly interpretive dance to a song whose only other association from me were three months in the early 90s when I was having regular wild-monkey sex with a sexy blonde on a busted-ass futon. And around this time Kelly, too, begins to ask some questions.

Is this the same girl whose number is on that Bon Jovi record? What? Oh no, thats a totally different girl. Do any of these records you want have stories that dont involve women youve slept with?

Around then, like Hornbys Rob Gordon, Spitznagel gets the message: its time to play grownup. He finally looks for a way to use his records to connect himself to his past: childhood friends, his family home, and the actual family he has now. There are field trips to his old college radio station (where he and a friend hang at their old fraternity house and depress the hell out of its current inhabitants by informing them that Nobody tells you that the girl you titty-fucked in the bar restroom when you were 20 is going to get breast cancer in 20 years and you will go to her funeral with very complicated emotions.) There is a hilarious incident involving a dessicated box of 1978 Boo Berry crunch, and a woman or two from the past show up to provide non-marriage-ruining plotlines of their own.

Oh, and yeah, he scores a few records along the way. Were they the droids he was looking for? Well, lets just say he finds a few whose scars may well have been inflicted by his younger self, bangs up a few more in the process, and he and his family and friends make up the rest. But as any crate digger knows, its all about the hunt. Meanwhile, back here at my old record store, some dude blasts past blaring and singing and fist-pumping along to Toto. Hurry boy, its waiting there for you!

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/old-records-never-die-by-eric-spitznagel-the-real-high-fidelity/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/178992898197

[allofbeercom]

Old Records Never Die by Eric Spitznagel – the real High Fidelity

Eric Spitznagels account of a chase for old albums ends up as a tale of a midlife crisis, albeit one which sadly neglects to notice that women, too, love vinyl

I am writing this review at my teenage record store in Boise, Idaho. According to Google Maps I am approximately 5,147 miles away from my current home in Berlin, Germany, and 2,468 miles away from Brooklyn, New York, where, for seven years, I ran a twice-monthly vinyl club. It involved hauling two turntables and a mixer to our local bar in a granny cart so that I and several dozen friends and total strangers could play the same records we played in our teenage bedrooms, but with the beer we could now drink and the professional sound system we never had.

This is the same store where, during my unfortunate hair metal phase, I bought Bon Jovi and Cinderella. Its also where, three years ago, I rifled through the rare 45s box and came back with the first Green River single for our annual Grunge New Years Eve party. Its where I scored my first Dead Kennedys records (carefully hiding the parental advisory stickers) and my first Bauhaus T-shirt (later gifted by my little brother to his girlfriend, sadly). And its where, two nights ago, I had beer with my high school friend right before she snuck off to see a Peter Murphy acoustic set that ended with her giving him a surprise greeting in his tour bus.

Walking into his childhood record store after 20 years, Eric Spitznagel, journalist and author of the memoir Old Records Never Die, sees the usual posters arranged in seemingly haphazard order Tupac, Tom Waits, Dylan, the Ramones and writes: These were posters you might see in any record store in any city in the world and the placement felt comforting and familiar, like the stained glass windows at the church you went to growing up. Youd seen the same colors and designs a thousand times before, but somehow the windows in your church seemed unique and inimitable. So true, my friend, I think, swiping my debit card to pay for a T-shirt with the logo for my own imitable church of vinyl.

Picture Rob Gordon, the record-obsessed protagonist of Nick Hornbys High Fidelity, then add 10 years: At 45, Spitznagel has both a wife (Kelly, whom he met when both worked at Chicagos Second City) and the kid (a charming three-year-old named Charlie).

But while Robs records (temporarily) cost him his girl, our friend Eric has the family but misses his discs: sold throughout the 90s when selling records was a victimless crime, for beer money, tacos and Trader Joes wine (all six Clash albums including the Hitsville 7-inch! paid for a a week of groceries at the liquor store down the block). In his day job as an entertainment reporter he interviews Questlove, who tells Spitznagel he still has every record he ever owned, all 70,000 of them. Spitznagel, inspired, finds his mid-life mission (or crisis): never mind the mistress and the sports car, hes going to get his records back. And not just copies of the same records. No, this guy is out to get the exact same records he sold more than a decade before, which will lead him back to his childhood home, his college radio station, muddy crawl spaces, and the musty basement of some dude who, a few decades before, once owned his now-defunct hometown record store.

Vinyl is making a comeback, even among kids who never grew up with records (many of whom showed up at my vinyl nights). But for those of us of certain age born in the 70s, the generation who lost our collections to exes, moms basement clearing and iTunes the idea that one would know an album is ones own original copy is less lunatic than it first may seem. Records, writes Spitznagel, are are bulky, inconvenient, easily damaged objects. Vinyl is like skin that changes, in good and bad ways, over a lifetime. Skin gets damaged, intentionally or by accident maybe it gets burned, or tattooed or scarred but it always retains some of its original character. Its the same skin its just weathered some life.

Spitznagel has a few clues to go on: his copy of Elton Johns Greatest Hits smells like cherries from the Lions Club garage sale, held in 1977 in a former cherry processing plant. Billy Joels The Stranger smells like Calvin Kleins Obsession. The Replacements Let It Be smells like weed. Bon Jovis Livin on a Prayer will have a girls phone number from a 708 area code. Around this time, an overarching theme begins to emerge: the records he most wants involve hot girls from his past he either had sex with, or wanted to have sex with. Maybe were not so far from the mistress and the sports car after all.

Records, like comics, have long been considered a dude-centric pastime, and Spitznagel, whose previous six books include Planet Baywatch, Fast Forward (Confessions of a Porn Screenwriter), and Ron Jeremy: The Hardest (Working) Man in Show Business, isnt breaking any molds here. He compares selling his record collection to the guy who gets kissed by a hot girl and decides to get rid of his porn collection immediately because I wont be needing this anymore. At the Pixies reunion show, he sees a sea of fortysomething dudes with Black Francis man-nipples, (were there no Kim Deal fans in the audience?); at the Replacements reunion show, he mourns his uncool dad status. One is tempted to remind him that Westerberg, now 56, is also a dad, and that chicks, too I am one own Let it Be, on TwinTone.

When he goes to a record swap, I laughed at the line when he realizes that harrowing moment when you realize the only thing separating you and a civil war re-enactor is better underwear but wondered if he may have passed, say, the divorced fortysomething mother who used to DJ with me twice a month and whose teenage kids now buy her records for every holiday and birthday. And when he blows the daycare money buying records in Nashville prompting a VHS cassette of Cocksucker Blues to be hurled at the wall by his exasperated wife I thought of the hundreds of hours I have spent crate-diving and DJing next to my own boyfriend, and say, my married friends Jake and Lisa who host their own DJ show together. Arent there any records Kelly might like? If they cant get a babysitter to make date night to the reunion shows, couldnt he at least make the woman a mixtape?

But around this time, Spitznagel seems to be thinking along the same lines. When he finally scores a copy of Van Morrisons Dweller on the Threshold, the song that was playing when he lost his virginity no wait, when he first realized sex could be fun he admits he finds it totally unsettling to see his three-year-old son do a silly interpretive dance to a song whose only other association from me were three months in the early 90s when I was having regular wild-monkey sex with a sexy blonde on a busted-ass futon. And around this time Kelly, too, begins to ask some questions.

Is this the same girl whose number is on that Bon Jovi record? What? Oh no, thats a totally different girl. Do any of these records you want have stories that dont involve women youve slept with?

Around then, like Hornbys Rob Gordon, Spitznagel gets the message: its time to play grownup. He finally looks for a way to use his records to connect himself to his past: childhood friends, his family home, and the actual family he has now. There are field trips to his old college radio station (where he and a friend hang at their old fraternity house and depress the hell out of its current inhabitants by informing them that Nobody tells you that the girl you titty-fucked in the bar restroom when you were 20 is going to get breast cancer in 20 years and you will go to her funeral with very complicated emotions.) There is a hilarious incident involving a dessicated box of 1978 Boo Berry crunch, and a woman or two from the past show up to provide non-marriage-ruining plotlines of their own.

Oh, and yeah, he scores a few records along the way. Were they the droids he was looking for? Well, lets just say he finds a few whose scars may well have been inflicted by his younger self, bangs up a few more in the process, and he and his family and friends make up the rest. But as any crate digger knows, its all about the hunt. Meanwhile, back here at my old record store, some dude blasts past blaring and singing and fist-pumping along to Toto. Hurry boy, its waiting there for you!

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/old-records-never-die-by-eric-spitznagel-the-real-high-fidelity/

[that-bat-blog]

@sleepysupersnuggles​ tagged me in w/ my art blog but I’m tryna keep it strictly art so here we go-

LAST

Drink: 7up free (because the can is much cuter than regular 7up)

Phone call: Probably my mum asking what time I was coming home

Text message (I’m gonna go with general messages because I never get texts): Basically my friend talking to me about how hot my OC Kai is, and me very much agreeing with him

Song: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande

Time you cried: Friday, I threw up and I always cry when I’m sick

EVER

Dated someone twice: The only person I’ve ever dated is my current boyfriend and we’ve been together since we were fifteen (five years in February)

Kissed someone and regretted it: Not that I can think of??

Been cheated on: I sure hope not

Lost someone special: My Grandma passed away last year but we weren’t very close or anything. I do have friends from high school I wish I could’ve kept contact with more I suppose

Been depressed: yea boi

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Never been drunk so nope

Fave colours: Red. Its just a good colour 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

Made new friends: Absolutely! I joined my boyfriends D&D game and everyones become really quick friends with me, its great

Fallen out of love: Nope and I don’t imagine I will any time soon

Laughed until you cried: Who hasn’t??

Found out someone was talking about you: In highschool it wasn’t really behind my back it was more snidey comments and such

Met someone who changed you: I used to hate puns and bad jokes, now I make them too often. Thanks Danny

Found out who your friends are: There was this one particular friend in primary/high school that I recently found some stuff about and I knew she was kinda shitty but had no idea how shitty she actually was

Kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: yes

GENERAL

How many of your Facebook friends do you know irl: All of them, I’ve never friended anyone I haven’t known

Do you have any pets: I have two lovely ladies. An Alaskan Malamute called Koda and a half jack russell, half staff called Lola

Do you want to change your name: I hate that my name has a million spellings but I still like it. The only time I can imagine changing it is if I get married

What did you do for your last birthday: I’m not much of a partygoer so I just stayed in and ordered takeaway

What were you doing at midnight last night:  Listening to music full blast and staring at the ceiling for hours as per usual

What is something you can’t wait for: My top to get delivered, I’ve been eyeing it for a while and finally got around to ordering it

What are you listening to you right now: My boyfriends rendition of the MII menu song

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I went to school with about six Toms so I’ve definitely spoken to one of them

Something that gets on your nerves: All my brothers

Most visited website: Tumblr most likely or Youtube I guess

Hair colour: It was half white and black not long ago but now its all black

Long or short hair: I had very short hair over a year ago and now I’m actually trying to see how long I can get it to grow, so both really. Also my boyfriend has very long golden flowing hair and I’m a little jealous

Do you have a crush on someone: Dick Grayson, its been a crush since I was like six and it hasn’t gone away

What do you like about yourself: Body wise, I have a nice torso??? Personality wise, I like to think I’m creative and hopefully approachable?

Want any piercings: I would love piercings but I hate being stabbed so thats a no-no. If I manged to though, I would love more ear piercings, my septum piercing and my nips cos that shit hot

Blood type: I actually have no idea

Nicknames: Kate, Katie, Kit Kat, Chicken Pie, Monkey Pud, BItch etc

Relationship status: If you haven’t gathered I’m very not single

Zodiac: Aquarius, and apparently Aquarius’ are very aloof which is very me

Pronouns: She’s a WoMaN

Fave TV shows: I’m currently on an Avatar: the last airbender rewatch, one of my childhood faves and totally looking forward to season 3 of Young Justice. Not that into live action shows or anything

Tattoos: If it involves needles, thats a nope

Right or left handed: Right handed 

Ever had surgery: Dental sorta shit but thats about it

Piercings: Ears when I was 10ish and I nearly passed out afterwards

Sport: HAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahahahaha

Vacation: I haven’t got any plans any time soon but I have been to Barcelona, Brisbane and Bulgaria

MORE GENERAL

Eating: Was eating Skips earlier

Drinking: Still in that pretty 7up free

About to watch: Probably some crappy action movie

Waiting for: Me to get the confidence to open commissions and finish some artwork

Want: To move out, I would really like to get a place with my boyfriend and I’m sure my brother who’s going to college and is 6ft odd would appreciate having a bigger bedroom

Get married: Maybe in the not so far future??

Career: I really want to get myself out there and just start making some good art. I love drawing for people because I know it makes them happy so it makes me happy too; they always say do something that you enjoy

WHICH IS BETTER

Hugs or kisses: A mixture of both is always good

Lips or eyes: Eyes, they’re so pretty and no pair is really the same

Shorter or taller: Taller, I want people to sweep me off my feet and make me feel dainty

Older or younger: Older I guess?

Nice arms or stomach: Gimme those beefy arms

Hookup or relationship: Relationship, never really understood the enjoyment behind a hookup

Troublemaker or hesitant: God please hesitant, my anxiety can’t take troublemaker

HAVE YOU EVER

Kissed a stranger: Again like the hookups, never really appealed to me. The idea of just kissing someone you don’t know if gross

Drunk hard liquor: Does a large glass of coke with the tiniest bit of vodka count

Lost glasses: My pair now are the first ones I’ve had and I haven’t lost them just yet

Turned someone down: The guy who introduced me to my boyfriend in high school....yeah

Sex on first date: Only had one first date, we were 15, he was 3 hours late and we went to see Transformers 3 so that should tell you all you need to know

Broken someones heart: Highly doubt it

Had your heart broken: nah

Been arrested: I’ve been in a police van and car but never been arrested

Cried when someone died: I didn’t cry my Grandma died, at her funeral and I still haven’t

Fallen for a friend: Well Danny was a friend before we went out so I guess??

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: I wouldn’t trust me with an egg

Miracles: Nope

Love at first sight: Nope, love is hard af

Santa Claus: Not anymore like

Kiss on a first date: I mean if you’re both up for it, sure!

Angels: Atheist so nah

OTHERS

Best friend’s name: Phoebe, we’ve been friends for 8 years now, the first thing she ever said to me was “your cake looks like its on crack” and we’ve been friends ever since

Eye colour: Steely blue, I’m the only one of my dads six kids to get his eye colour, everyone else has their mothers

Fave movie: I don’t really have a favourite, I spend more time watching Youtube videos than anything else really

Fave actors: Never really had a favourite, just generally anyone who is a sweetheart

Thanks for tagging me in Nina!! I’m gonna tag @izzy-cat and @cattwomannn and really anyone else can have a go!!

[saltypurpleduck]

My mom vs my sexuality. A story.

So this is gonna be a little long. First though some background. I came out to my mom in highschool durring a break-up. Yeah.... It wasn't pretty and I won't get into details. It ending with her framing kicking me out as me needing to go up north to where my dad's family lived for "space". Also good to note here I live in Texas, so going up north involved staying in the same state yes, but moving four hours away.

Later durring the early stages of my first short lived marriage, my mom and I discuss this. I stand my ground, no mom it wasn't a phase I'm still bisexual. (I was married to a dude. I guess I should also add that I am not a dude. I'd say I was a lady but my friends would object. But again for clarity's sake I am a girl I was married to a boy.) She doesn't like it but I'm married to a man so she brushes it off.

Long story of how I divorced that guy, got pregnant and married another guy....

It comes uo AGAIN. (How you ask? Oh I just never know....) Mom I'm not straight. Still bi. Whatever I'm married to a dude and having his baby it all comes out in the wash right?

That was four (Jesus its been that long...) years ago. We have not spoken of it since. Not even when my brother got involved in a polyamorous relationship and she came to me with her "I don't get this Jamie help me justify my objections" thing she does. This is a game we play where she comes to me to rant about how weird something is and I shrug and go "whatever floats their boat man". Usually involving strangers, sometimes involving a fight where we disagree findamentally about something, sometimes (all be it rare thanks GOD(s?)) involving me having to wxplain something to her. This time it was poly and how yes its not my thing but some people do it and well and her doubts and her insistance that its cheating and my brothers the guilty party, then a comment about how the woman he was with was married to a woman so she "made her choice" (WTF?).... Anyway my brother left that relatio ship so mom fills like she won but whatever. He left because of the drama not because his heart is too tender and kind for that ahort of thing. My mother is strange... ANYWAY!

So finally the story....

We're at work. I work with her at a construction company. I'm a receptionist/file clerk, she's the office manager, at the time the estamator who's there the most is also there in his office. All three of our office doors open into the same little hallway thing, hard to explain but we often talk to eachother from our desks and when a converstation is really good, estamator and I roll our cahirs out to our doors to talk better. (Mom is trapped behind a very large L shaped desk.)

So my mom calls from her office. (Her and estamator are talking truck drivers I think.... Oh yeah I saw a student driver in a semi while in traffic and she was telling him about it... anyway....) She annouces to estamator. "My ex sister in laws girlfriend wants to learn to drive a truck." Now my mom has two ex husbands, one being my dad, but only one exsister in law, my aunt. So my attention is called. Estamator is confused and like "what?", and then he is more confused when I'm like. "Wait do what? Since when?" Because of course I'm like why don't I know about this? Then my mom corrects herself and is "wait I meant niece! Not sister in law ex nice!" And I was like "ohhhhhh" and estamator was like. "Jamie was freaking out for a second." And moms like "no her aunt is gay." and so starts the converatation about all the gay people my mom knows. So the chairs have long since been abandoned and estamator and I are standing in moms office door.

Mom goes.... "No I her family it's just her aunt."

Estamator looks to me for convermation that my aunt is the only gay in my family. He's staring me down, my mom is looking at me, for five seconds the world has stood still and I'm gonna pass out.... Then thank the heavens mom says something about how my aunt "winters with the ladies, they give better christmas gifts". This is a refrence to my aunt being bi and how she went a few years going back and forth between dudes and not dudes. But two of her last three relationships have been with women, and the one with a guy was very short lived, the other two went on for years one is atill going.

So thats the story of how I almost had to come out to my mother for a fourth time in front of my co-worker, and of how my mom STILL thinks my bisexuality is a phase.

It's also important to know that I'm not out to a good chunck of my family. Like most of it. No one on my moms side, only three people on my dads. I will tell my fire and brimstone grandmother on my moms side LONG before I tell my dad. Lord help me I will NEVER tell my dad....

I made the decision a long time ago to bless my famiky with peace and not come out until I had to. Like if I get actually involved with a woman, then I'll tell them. Until then there is no need to cause a family war. Because there was war just over me getting knocked up and married a second time.....

Anyway there's some my mom vs my sexuality stuff.

[samanthasroberts]

‘I know their vital stats, their romantic histories’: how Sunderland AFC saved me

For this Chinese Jewish Texan, England was a difficult place to feel at home. But all that changed when she discovered football

Thats shite, man! the man behind screams. The discontent in the crowd is reaching a critical mass. Useless twats, snarls a father below, opening a packet of crisps for his nine-year-old son.

I stand frozen, wrapped up in a scarf and down jacket. Who are we yelling at? Why are we so angry?

Its Boxing Day 2012 and Im at the Stadium of Light in Sunderland for my first ever football match. Its freezing cold; it begins to rain. And then it happens. A Sunderland player fires a shot that creeps past the Manchester City goalkeeper and into the bottom corner of the net. The stadium thunders as a sea of 46,000 bodies fall over each other, total strangers hugging their neighbours, while simultaneously jumping up and down. The man next to me screams so loudly in my ear that Im momentarily deaf. Then he turns me towards him, grabs my shoulders, locks eyes with me and shakes my body. Ahhhhhhhhhh! he screams, in happiness and disbelief.

Ahhhhhhh! I scream back, in fear.

***

When I moved to London, I got a job as a junior editor on a luxury lifestyle website. The site was run by a flamboyant man from Croydon named Carlos, with coiffed salt and pepper hair. Never one to pass up an opportunity to show off, Carlos liked to introduce me to visiting VIPs as our New Yorker who speaks fluent Mandarin and went to Harvard.

None of these things was true. I grew up in a small town in Texas: Amarillo. For some reason, Carlos didnt think this as impressive as being from New York (despite Amarillo being the helium capital of the world and the home of Tony Christies sweet Marie). As for fluent in Mandarin, my dad is Chinese, but I speak only broken Mandarin after living and working in Beijing for a few years. I didnt go to Harvard I was rejected but I did go to a university an hour away. None of these things made sense to Carlos, so he went with his own version.

My exchanges with Carlos were stilted. Our interactions ended in awkward silences. He was twice my age and we had nothing in common. But he was well known in London media circles and I was desperate to get him on side.

After Beijing, I assumed it would be a breeze to assimilate in a country where I no longer faced a language barrier. In China, I had spent a good amount of time miming my interactions. I also had to get used to Beijing locals asking me how much money I made, or telling me I was looking fatter than usual. But it was a bluntness I came to embrace: at least I knew where I stood.

Not so in London. The city was so rife with passive aggression that I didnt know when people were being rude or kind. A woman thanked me on the train for moving my bag and I was almost certain what she was really saying was too fucking right. A man squeezed by me on the escalator and the pitch of his seemingly polite May I? was so snide, it nearly brought me to tears. Carlos asked me if I want to do something for him at work and I wasnt sure if it was an order, a helpful suggestion or sarcasm. The words themselves were unfailingly polite, but it was all in the tone. Other Americans I knew suffered the same way. I genuinely dont know if my colleagues are making fun of me or being nice, a friend from Chicago confessed one night over drinks.

London can be a tough city for newcomers to crack. Compared with the US, people prefer to keep to themselves, especially in public. Im shy, so this was wonderful at first. No one approaches you to chat. I once fell in a crowded street in broad daylight and began the, Im fine, Im fine, honestly protest. But no one had stopped. I lay on the ground, impressed with peoples dedication to not getting involved with strangers. I began to think that I might never find a way to break through the famous British reserve. Would I ever find common ground with Carlos? If only there was some magic key.

And then one day, I witnessed a man bite another man on live TV. This happened during a football match that was on in a pub I happened to be in. I was immediately intrigued: by the biting, the drama, the getting caught, the primal emotion of the incident. I didnt realise it at the time, but this was it: my in.

On a bus, I sat with a couple of friends who were discussing live scores; soon, the entire upper deck had joined the conversation. It was like a portal to another dimension in which everyone was chatty, friendly and open on public transport.

Football was everywhere, it turned out. Once I noticed this, I began to absorb football facts, though only certain things stuck. I loved it when footballers cried. Maybe it was the persistent myth of the stiff upper lip but seeing a player moved to tears, to me, showed he cared more than anyone else. It wasnt like watching an actor pretend to tear up. This shit was real.

I loved any sort of drama on and off the pitch. Family tensions, love problems, scandals, shoving matches; before long, I became a reliable source of useless, soap opera-esque information about players.

I also became a fervent Sunderland supporter. Why would a Chinese girl from Texas living in Highbury, north London, become a Sunderland supporter? Because I had married one. Ian, born and bred in Sunderland, talked about his teams players as if they were his family. That made them my family, too. I knew their names, their shirt numbers, their vital stats, their romantic histories. I was also a natural fit for Sunderland because I love an underdog and by God, I had chosen the underdog of underdogs. The big clubs, with their expensive superstars, were boring to me. Our wins were rare, but they were so much sweeter for it.

I watched televised matches, sometimes without Ian if he was busy or out of town, something that had my friends and family baffled. During visits home to Texas, Ian and I zealously woke early to catch the Sunderland game. My father would observe me, puzzled. My mother, who is Jewish, was also bewildered but said, Well, you were the most athletic of our family of klutzes. It was my childhood best friend Jori who called me out. We were in a Waffle House diner surrounded by grassy plains. I asked Ian if he knew how Sunderlands relegation rivals had fared in their six-pointer, when she interrupted me. Are you talking about British soccer? Who are you? I told her the truth: Im just a girl, standing in front of the TV, hoping a footballer scores a winning goal in the last minute of a high-stakes match and then weeps about it.

A young fan lets rip as Sunderland take on Man United. Photograph: Getty

Do you know who really liked football? Carlos. We soon developed a rapport. Every Monday, hed rush to my desk and wed discuss the weekends matches. He was obsessed with playing style, formations and league tables. Meanwhile, I was the expert on the fights, the crying and the hissy fits. Suddenly, we were friends. He wasnt just my scary boss who got annoyed that I didnt know who Lynyrd Skynyrd were. We were bonding.

They say that to assimilate in a foreign country, you have to speak the language, and now I finally did. Did I make friends from learning about football? I would go out on a limb and say that yes, I did. I made friends with Dave at the Three store when I sat there for two hours after accidentally flushing my phone down the toilet. I bonded with a Ghanaian driver as we discussed a former Sunderland player from his country. In a hotel in the Lake District, there was a communication breakdown with a concierge that ended happily when we both agreed that Diego Costa was a jerk and Jermain Defoe a great goal scorer. When cab rides were too silent, no problem. Lets talk about the match, driver.

***

Dinner in the north-east of England is different from dinner in Texas. Here the food is cooked well-done, the weather is colder and greyer, the company more polite, the table quieter.

Ians dad, brother and uncles are lifelong Sunderland season ticket holders. Ask them a question about what they want to eat, or their favourite movie, or their preference for boxers or briefs, and they will reply, Im easy. Suggest that Jack Rodwell is a decent footballer and they are unleashed animated, passionate, opinionated. I enjoy bantering with Ians brother and dad about football, but we argue a lot mostly because there is one thing I havent been able to wrap my head around since my first game.

After that first Boxing Day match, on the walk from the Stadium of Light to the car with Ian, his dad, his uncle and his brother, I ask the question thats on my mind.

Why do we yell mean things at our own players?

Silence. And then: They just didnt show up. For most of the match, they were bloody awful, Ian says. Good use of we, though, he adds.

But shouldnt we be supporting them? Encouraging them?

Ian shakes his head and sighs.

You know, like being positive and lifting them up? I was still trying to make sense of why 46,000 people would call themselves supporters when they gave the most vitriolic, abusive commentary on their own players. Their support was downright terrifying.

This was your first match, Jess. Weve suffered years of pain while watching players go through the motions. Ive been enduring this for 25 years, Ian says. Twenty-six years, Ians older brother says. His dad: Try 60 years. And finally, I understand the British subtext: You are a wide-eyed idiot.

You got me into this: Jess with her husband, Ian. Photograph: Pal Hansen for the Guardian

At my high school in Texas, there was a club called Senior Spirits. Senior Spirit members met to boost the egos of our sports teams and rally other students to support those teams. To quote from the yearbook, their mission was to make posters and give our school spirit. In the photo, a group of 20 girls wearing matching T-shirts and ponytails, grin at the camera, 100% heartfelt.

These werent cheerleaders. And they werent affiliated with the Steppers, the ultra-serious dancers who performed at pep rallies, the hour-long ceremonies dedicated to whipping up school spirit. Nor were they the student marching band that played during football matches to help stoke, yes, even more team spirit. Team spirit was like an elusive ghost permeating the school and we all had to worship it.

That spirit was partial to posters with marker pen and glitter, to ponytails, to cakes shaped like American footballs and prayers before the big game. It revelled in exclamation marks. It did not like folded arms and booing and sarcasm. It did not like being called a useless twat.

Apparently team spirit isnt a thing in north-east England. So how do English secondary schools pump up their sports teams? I imagine the halls of these schools are lined with posters of a different sort: You better not screw this up, Jones! and Dont do any of that long-ball shit, Gibbons.

I still struggle with this complete inversion, but it unlocked something core in the English mentality how ingrained the cynicism is, as well as the tendency to proceed from a position of cautious defeat. Expect to lose so it hurts less when it happens, and if we win, no harm done.

Diehard football fans remain sceptical of me. At matches, I ask questions. I get looks when I yell cheerful encouragement. I cant stop shouting, At least you tried! every time a player takes a shot but fails to score. Some have the gall to question my passion for football until I do well at the pub quiz football round. If you love something, does it matter if you love it for all the wrong reasons? Apparently, to them, yes. But one thing was for sure: I was emotionally committed.

In May 2016, at the end of that years season, Sunderland were on the brink of doom, as we are every year. Hundreds of fans gathered at the Old Red Lion in Angel, north London, for one of the last matches of the season. I am 5ft 2in, so I left Ian and his friends and waded through Mackems to get to a good vantage point to watch the match. We were playing Everton, and this would seal everything: would we stay up and relegate bitter rivals Newcastle in the process?

Awaydays at the Drayton Park pub in north London, before taking on Arsenal at the Emirates. Photograph: Pal Hansen for the Guardian

The first time we scored, someones pint of beer, spilt in jubilant joy and shock, doused my head. On the second goal, the shouts were deafening. On the third, a man threw his arms around me and together we jumped up and down and screamed with pure joy. I left the pub dazed, half-deaf, hair soaked in booze and my face aching from smiling.

I became a UK citizen last year. At a city town hall, I swore my allegiance to the Queen and stumbled through the national anthem with 17 other newly minted UK citizens. But that moment didnt come close to the buoyant feeling of pure joy and belonging I felt in the arms of a stranger as we celebrated the victory of our beloved team. If the root of football passion is said to be a sense of family and place, then this Chinese Jewish Texan has found her new home.

Unfortunately, that home is sometimes a den of pain and despair. By the time you read this, we will have played three Championship matches in the new season. Ian assures me we will not have won one: Sunderland havent won a league game in August or September for four years in a row.

In April this year, we were finally relegated from the Premier League with four matches left to play.

Useless losers! I yell at the players as Sunderland fail to score even one goal. Its all over. Nothing to hope for now, no Match Of The Day to look forward to.

As I shout at the players, Ian pats me hard on the back. Well done, he says. I look at him, confused. Now you know what it feels like to hate your own team.

Commenting on this piece? If you would like your comment to be considered for inclusion on Weekend magazines letters page in print, please email weekend@theguardian.com, including your name and address (not for publication).

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/17/i-know-their-vital-stats-their-romantic-histories-how-sunderland-afc-saved-me/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/09/17/i-know-their-vital-stats-their-romantic-histories-how-sunderland-afc-saved-me/

[allofbeercom]

‘I know their vital stats, their romantic histories’: how Sunderland AFC saved me

For this Chinese Jewish Texan, England was a difficult place to feel at home. But all that changed when she discovered football

Thats shite, man! the man behind screams. The discontent in the crowd is reaching a critical mass. Useless twats, snarls a father below, opening a packet of crisps for his nine-year-old son.

I stand frozen, wrapped up in a scarf and down jacket. Who are we yelling at? Why are we so angry?

Its Boxing Day 2012 and Im at the Stadium of Light in Sunderland for my first ever football match. Its freezing cold; it begins to rain. And then it happens. A Sunderland player fires a shot that creeps past the Manchester City goalkeeper and into the bottom corner of the net. The stadium thunders as a sea of 46,000 bodies fall over each other, total strangers hugging their neighbours, while simultaneously jumping up and down. The man next to me screams so loudly in my ear that Im momentarily deaf. Then he turns me towards him, grabs my shoulders, locks eyes with me and shakes my body. Ahhhhhhhhhh! he screams, in happiness and disbelief.

Ahhhhhhh! I scream back, in fear.

***

When I moved to London, I got a job as a junior editor on a luxury lifestyle website. The site was run by a flamboyant man from Croydon named Carlos, with coiffed salt and pepper hair. Never one to pass up an opportunity to show off, Carlos liked to introduce me to visiting VIPs as our New Yorker who speaks fluent Mandarin and went to Harvard.

None of these things was true. I grew up in a small town in Texas: Amarillo. For some reason, Carlos didnt think this as impressive as being from New York (despite Amarillo being the helium capital of the world and the home of Tony Christies sweet Marie). As for fluent in Mandarin, my dad is Chinese, but I speak only broken Mandarin after living and working in Beijing for a few years. I didnt go to Harvard I was rejected but I did go to a university an hour away. None of these things made sense to Carlos, so he went with his own version.

My exchanges with Carlos were stilted. Our interactions ended in awkward silences. He was twice my age and we had nothing in common. But he was well known in London media circles and I was desperate to get him on side.

After Beijing, I assumed it would be a breeze to assimilate in a country where I no longer faced a language barrier. In China, I had spent a good amount of time miming my interactions. I also had to get used to Beijing locals asking me how much money I made, or telling me I was looking fatter than usual. But it was a bluntness I came to embrace: at least I knew where I stood.

Not so in London. The city was so rife with passive aggression that I didnt know when people were being rude or kind. A woman thanked me on the train for moving my bag and I was almost certain what she was really saying was too fucking right. A man squeezed by me on the escalator and the pitch of his seemingly polite May I? was so snide, it nearly brought me to tears. Carlos asked me if I want to do something for him at work and I wasnt sure if it was an order, a helpful suggestion or sarcasm. The words themselves were unfailingly polite, but it was all in the tone. Other Americans I knew suffered the same way. I genuinely dont know if my colleagues are making fun of me or being nice, a friend from Chicago confessed one night over drinks.

London can be a tough city for newcomers to crack. Compared with the US, people prefer to keep to themselves, especially in public. Im shy, so this was wonderful at first. No one approaches you to chat. I once fell in a crowded street in broad daylight and began the, Im fine, Im fine, honestly protest. But no one had stopped. I lay on the ground, impressed with peoples dedication to not getting involved with strangers. I began to think that I might never find a way to break through the famous British reserve. Would I ever find common ground with Carlos? If only there was some magic key.

And then one day, I witnessed a man bite another man on live TV. This happened during a football match that was on in a pub I happened to be in. I was immediately intrigued: by the biting, the drama, the getting caught, the primal emotion of the incident. I didnt realise it at the time, but this was it: my in.

On a bus, I sat with a couple of friends who were discussing live scores; soon, the entire upper deck had joined the conversation. It was like a portal to another dimension in which everyone was chatty, friendly and open on public transport.

Football was everywhere, it turned out. Once I noticed this, I began to absorb football facts, though only certain things stuck. I loved it when footballers cried. Maybe it was the persistent myth of the stiff upper lip but seeing a player moved to tears, to me, showed he cared more than anyone else. It wasnt like watching an actor pretend to tear up. This shit was real.

I loved any sort of drama on and off the pitch. Family tensions, love problems, scandals, shoving matches; before long, I became a reliable source of useless, soap opera-esque information about players.

I also became a fervent Sunderland supporter. Why would a Chinese girl from Texas living in Highbury, north London, become a Sunderland supporter? Because I had married one. Ian, born and bred in Sunderland, talked about his teams players as if they were his family. That made them my family, too. I knew their names, their shirt numbers, their vital stats, their romantic histories. I was also a natural fit for Sunderland because I love an underdog and by God, I had chosen the underdog of underdogs. The big clubs, with their expensive superstars, were boring to me. Our wins were rare, but they were so much sweeter for it.

I watched televised matches, sometimes without Ian if he was busy or out of town, something that had my friends and family baffled. During visits home to Texas, Ian and I zealously woke early to catch the Sunderland game. My father would observe me, puzzled. My mother, who is Jewish, was also bewildered but said, Well, you were the most athletic of our family of klutzes. It was my childhood best friend Jori who called me out. We were in a Waffle House diner surrounded by grassy plains. I asked Ian if he knew how Sunderlands relegation rivals had fared in their six-pointer, when she interrupted me. Are you talking about British soccer? Who are you? I told her the truth: Im just a girl, standing in front of the TV, hoping a footballer scores a winning goal in the last minute of a high-stakes match and then weeps about it.

A young fan lets rip as Sunderland take on Man United. Photograph: Getty

Do you know who really liked football? Carlos. We soon developed a rapport. Every Monday, hed rush to my desk and wed discuss the weekends matches. He was obsessed with playing style, formations and league tables. Meanwhile, I was the expert on the fights, the crying and the hissy fits. Suddenly, we were friends. He wasnt just my scary boss who got annoyed that I didnt know who Lynyrd Skynyrd were. We were bonding.

They say that to assimilate in a foreign country, you have to speak the language, and now I finally did. Did I make friends from learning about football? I would go out on a limb and say that yes, I did. I made friends with Dave at the Three store when I sat there for two hours after accidentally flushing my phone down the toilet. I bonded with a Ghanaian driver as we discussed a former Sunderland player from his country. In a hotel in the Lake District, there was a communication breakdown with a concierge that ended happily when we both agreed that Diego Costa was a jerk and Jermain Defoe a great goal scorer. When cab rides were too silent, no problem. Lets talk about the match, driver.

***

Dinner in the north-east of England is different from dinner in Texas. Here the food is cooked well-done, the weather is colder and greyer, the company more polite, the table quieter.

Ians dad, brother and uncles are lifelong Sunderland season ticket holders. Ask them a question about what they want to eat, or their favourite movie, or their preference for boxers or briefs, and they will reply, Im easy. Suggest that Jack Rodwell is a decent footballer and they are unleashed animated, passionate, opinionated. I enjoy bantering with Ians brother and dad about football, but we argue a lot mostly because there is one thing I havent been able to wrap my head around since my first game.

After that first Boxing Day match, on the walk from the Stadium of Light to the car with Ian, his dad, his uncle and his brother, I ask the question thats on my mind.

Why do we yell mean things at our own players?

Silence. And then: They just didnt show up. For most of the match, they were bloody awful, Ian says. Good use of we, though, he adds.

But shouldnt we be supporting them? Encouraging them?

Ian shakes his head and sighs.

You know, like being positive and lifting them up? I was still trying to make sense of why 46,000 people would call themselves supporters when they gave the most vitriolic, abusive commentary on their own players. Their support was downright terrifying.

This was your first match, Jess. Weve suffered years of pain while watching players go through the motions. Ive been enduring this for 25 years, Ian says. Twenty-six years, Ians older brother says. His dad: Try 60 years. And finally, I understand the British subtext: You are a wide-eyed idiot.

You got me into this: Jess with her husband, Ian. Photograph: Pal Hansen for the Guardian

At my high school in Texas, there was a club called Senior Spirits. Senior Spirit members met to boost the egos of our sports teams and rally other students to support those teams. To quote from the yearbook, their mission was to make posters and give our school spirit. In the photo, a group of 20 girls wearing matching T-shirts and ponytails, grin at the camera, 100% heartfelt.

These werent cheerleaders. And they werent affiliated with the Steppers, the ultra-serious dancers who performed at pep rallies, the hour-long ceremonies dedicated to whipping up school spirit. Nor were they the student marching band that played during football matches to help stoke, yes, even more team spirit. Team spirit was like an elusive ghost permeating the school and we all had to worship it.

That spirit was partial to posters with marker pen and glitter, to ponytails, to cakes shaped like American footballs and prayers before the big game. It revelled in exclamation marks. It did not like folded arms and booing and sarcasm. It did not like being called a useless twat.

Apparently team spirit isnt a thing in north-east England. So how do English secondary schools pump up their sports teams? I imagine the halls of these schools are lined with posters of a different sort: You better not screw this up, Jones! and Dont do any of that long-ball shit, Gibbons.

I still struggle with this complete inversion, but it unlocked something core in the English mentality how ingrained the cynicism is, as well as the tendency to proceed from a position of cautious defeat. Expect to lose so it hurts less when it happens, and if we win, no harm done.

Diehard football fans remain sceptical of me. At matches, I ask questions. I get looks when I yell cheerful encouragement. I cant stop shouting, At least you tried! every time a player takes a shot but fails to score. Some have the gall to question my passion for football until I do well at the pub quiz football round. If you love something, does it matter if you love it for all the wrong reasons? Apparently, to them, yes. But one thing was for sure: I was emotionally committed.

In May 2016, at the end of that years season, Sunderland were on the brink of doom, as we are every year. Hundreds of fans gathered at the Old Red Lion in Angel, north London, for one of the last matches of the season. I am 5ft 2in, so I left Ian and his friends and waded through Mackems to get to a good vantage point to watch the match. We were playing Everton, and this would seal everything: would we stay up and relegate bitter rivals Newcastle in the process?

Awaydays at the Drayton Park pub in north London, before taking on Arsenal at the Emirates. Photograph: Pal Hansen for the Guardian

The first time we scored, someones pint of beer, spilt in jubilant joy and shock, doused my head. On the second goal, the shouts were deafening. On the third, a man threw his arms around me and together we jumped up and down and screamed with pure joy. I left the pub dazed, half-deaf, hair soaked in booze and my face aching from smiling.

I became a UK citizen last year. At a city town hall, I swore my allegiance to the Queen and stumbled through the national anthem with 17 other newly minted UK citizens. But that moment didnt come close to the buoyant feeling of pure joy and belonging I felt in the arms of a stranger as we celebrated the victory of our beloved team. If the root of football passion is said to be a sense of family and place, then this Chinese Jewish Texan has found her new home.

Unfortunately, that home is sometimes a den of pain and despair. By the time you read this, we will have played three Championship matches in the new season. Ian assures me we will not have won one: Sunderland havent won a league game in August or September for four years in a row.

In April this year, we were finally relegated from the Premier League with four matches left to play.

Useless losers! I yell at the players as Sunderland fail to score even one goal. Its all over. Nothing to hope for now, no Match Of The Day to look forward to.

As I shout at the players, Ian pats me hard on the back. Well done, he says. I look at him, confused. Now you know what it feels like to hate your own team.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/17/i-know-their-vital-stats-their-romantic-histories-how-sunderland-afc-saved-me/