#day 5 of quarantine and i am fully losing my mind
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sealionfriends · 2 years ago
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also i am having a whole life crisis and i don't want to do my job anymore but also all other jobs are dumb or maybe i am just a dumb person who wouldn't be good at any other job because i am constantly embarrassed by everything i do
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blouisparadise · 4 years ago
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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love.
Happy reading!
1) Your Good Time | Explicit | 3070 words
Louis nodded along with what the guy was saying, apparently his arousal taking over his brain to mouth filter as he said, “Who would want to hide a fit bloke like you? That guys an idiot.” Louis scoffed, dramatizing the word ‘idiot’, giving the guy a sly smirk. The guy leaned an arm against the bar, turned his body to Louis and fixed him with a curious look before he held out a hand.
“M’Harry.”
Louis and Harry meet in a bar when Harry's date is an ass. Inspired by Temporary Fix by One Direction.
2) I Push You To The Limits | Explicit | 3846 words
Louis is a brat who likes seeing his boyfriend get jealous and possessive over him.
3) Overkill | Explicit | 4354 words
Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.
4) Too Nervous to be Lovers | Mature | 6445 words
Louis doesn't want to spend quarantine with Harry, his straight roommate, who doesn't even acknowledge his existence.
5) Fratboy In Love | Mature | 6830 words
Harry Styles was a frat boy who loved to sleep around and flirt with boys and girls. Louis was a good uni student who loved to stay in and study and wasn't much of a partier.
Insert his best friend Niall who talks him into going. Louis gets drunk and ends up sleeping with harry. The next day he leaves before Harry wakes and tries to avoid him at all costs. Thinking Harry wouldn't care since Louis was just another conquest. But what if Harry did care. And actually have a crush on Louis. Read and find out
6) My Sunflower | Mature | 7057 words
Louis would rather be sunbathing at the beach with his friends, not slaving his spring break away in his father’s flower shop.
7) Waiting | Explicit | 8023 words
Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.
8) Shine Light Upon Your Ground | Explicit | 8506 words
Note: The fic pairing is Louis/H, which the reader can picture as Harry or Henry Cavill.
Louis sighs again and fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist, twisting the charms around and petting the fake diamonds.
“How much for a night?” A deep voice suddenly asks him. The man who approaches him is already pulling out his wallet and flicking through a bundle of bills. Louis, who had been sitting at the bar completely innocent and minding his own business, lets out an offended, strangled sound.
“Excuse me?” He demands, straightening up in his seat. The hem of his dress creeps further up his thigh but he pays it no mind.
9) Glistening Under The Sun (You're My Honey Soaked Love) | Mature | 8996 words
“Oh Petal,” he picks her up nuzzling the top of her head with his cheek as she nibbles on the lavender, “How lucky are we? I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, the only thing we have to be sad about is that soon I won’t be able to hold you like this,”
10) Connected To The Heart | Explicit | 9059 words
Note: This is an coda scene for this fic.
“Your stage cue is way too close for you to be wearing that look you’re wearing,” Louis informs him. He can’t stop himself from looking up at Harry through his eyelashes, the silk of Harry’s dress shirt brushing against the backs of his knuckles.
“Twenty minutes,” Harry agrees. His breath is minty from the gum he was chewing earlier, fresh and warm. “Twenty minutes can be a long time, baby.”
This time, Louis has to force himself to roll his eyes. “Not nearly long enough for the way you always want to fuck me.”
11) Fuck U Betta | Explicit | 11438 words
There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.
OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.
12) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11569 words
"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest.
"Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself.
Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.
13) Pull The Trigger | Explicit | 12007 words
Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #16 on this list.
Louis has never been alright with killing. Will that change when he learns what it's like to be the one holding the gun?
14) Open All Night | Explicit | 12537 words
It’s six in the morning when Harry finally makes it back home.
Harry's a bartender, Louis' got a nice ass and a shit taste in men. They make it work.
15) Among Other Things | Explicit | 16073 words
“Harry, it’s 7:45, oh my god, my class starts at 8:15,” and Louis wants to cry. Harry’s busy under the bed trying to find the tiny silver key but Louis knows that fate just hates him and he needs to find a way to get up. “Harry, I—fuck,” Louis whines. Harry stands up in a rush.
“I can’t seem to find them. It. The key.”
Or, Louis’ the teacher of Harry Styles’ daughter. Their paths shouldn’t cross like this. This meaning Louis showing up to school handcuffed to a headboard.
16) A Bullet And It's Gun | Explicit | 18156 words
Note: The sequel to this fic is #13 on this list. 
Louis’ parents arrange his marriage with Harry. He’s fully ready to accept that he’s going to be a sad and lonely person for the rest of his life. But then Harry starts proving himself as more than just an asocial man with money.
17) By Such Slight Ligaments | Explicit | 26764 words
Note: The fic pairing is Louis/Henry Cavill.
A late night visit to a patient sets off a series of events that will turn Louis' world upside down.
... Here there be monsters.
18) At Your Fingertips | Explicit | 27384 words
He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.
His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.
And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.
Three…
Two…
One.
Play.
19) Forgot My Roots Now Watch Me Bloom | Explicit | 28334 words
Lonely transit worker Louis pulls his longtime crush, Peter, from the path of an oncoming train. At the hospital, doctors report that he's in a coma, and a misplaced comment from Louis causes Peter's family to assume that he is his fiancée. When Louis doesn't correct them, they take him into their home and confidence. Things get even more complicated when he finds himself falling for Peter's brother, Harry. Loosely based on the movie "While You Were Sleeping".
20) Push You Out, Pull You Back In | Explicit | 31544 words
Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.
21) Baby Blue | Explicit | 39439 words
Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.
He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.
“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”
22) Lidocaine And Palm Trees | Explicit | 44653 words
Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.
Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.
Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.
A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.
23) Sleeping On Our Problems | Explicit | 67369 words
Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.
24) Truth Would Be | Explicit | 91869 words
“You want me? I’m not a… a thing to be owned!” Louis stuttered, still very angry and confused.
“Hmmm…” The alpha tapped his lips as if he was contemplating something. “Last time I checked, the debt was paid off and the only thing I had asked in return was… you. So technically I do own you.”
“You are crazy…” Louis muttered as he began to back towards the door. Harry’s impossibly green eyes turned a shade darker, but his tone was still teasing and light when he said, “Maybe I am…”
The I-paid-off-all-your-debt-so-you-are-mine AU in which Omega Louis wants to be left alone by Alpha Harry but it's super complicated when he starts to not hate the alpha all that much.
25) Collision | Not Rated | 224594 words
Note: This fic was finished in 2018, but two new epilogue chapters have been added.
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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hangrypa · 4 years ago
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s/p first year as a PA
I was hired as a hospitalist primarily for the transplant service. However, in the setting of the pandemic and staffing shortages, I am all over the place now and work in almost everything non-pediatric and non-surgical. 
In my first few months as a PA, I was incredibly overwhelmed. I went from being a learner who switches specialties every month to a fully-fledged provider making life-or-death decisions on an hourly basis. Oftentimes I’d find myself in the room of a patient actively crumping, surrounded by the patient’s family and multiple nurses awaiting instructions on what to do to save the patient. I thought that I faced a lot of pressure in school, but it was nothing compared to this. 
And just when I started to get a hang of it all, the pandemic hit. What a nightmare. As mentioned above, I was hired to work with with transplant patients. Prior to the pandemic, my transplant colleagues and I were masking and gowning for almost every patient: 1 surgical mask and 1 gown per patient and per patient encounter. But once COVID hit, we were rationing PPE. 1 N95, 1 pair of goggles, and 1 face shield for the pandemic. 1 surgical mask per week, and 1 gown only if a patient had Cdiff or a history of MDRO bacteremia.
What did the pandemic mean for our transplant patients? 
Our patients are on immunosuppressant medications to prevent transplant rejection. Unfortunately, this makes it difficult for them to fight infections. 
Our department did what it could to prevent COVID. We'd test patients on admission for COVID, regardless of symptoms or exposure history. If they were positive, they went to the COVID team and quarantined on their unit for a period of time and had to test negative before returning to our unit and being transplanted. We took many other measures to reduce COVID risk to the best of our ability. 
People still died. To see someone get transplanted successfully and then die of a virus is horrifying. Unfortunately, despite our admission tests, sometimes patients contracted COVID within the hospital. Patients would be happily FaceTiming their family one moment, telling them all of their plans for once they were discharged- then the next day they'd be intubated. We tried Remdesivir, Dexamethasone, prone positioning, etc. But the virus moved through them quickly, and these efforts often were too late. No amount of hoping and praying brought them back. 
As a first year PA, I learned to go to an empty conference room, close the door, and remove my mask before calling to the family of the deceased. This way, as they gathered around the phone in their homes, the family could hear me unmuffled as I delivered the news. Also, this way my tears didn't ruin my mask for the rest of the week. 
I learned a lot this year. It's been a mixture of crying and laughing. There are times that I question why I ever became a PA, and then there are times when this career feels like home. In addition to transplant, I’ve also been working in the  ED, IMC, ICU, inpatient hospice, clinic, and infusion center these past 6 months. I’ve learned quite a lot along the way.
Lessons learned as a first year PA:
1. Check your pager hourly: This is in addition to checking it whenever you get paged. Sometimes I’ll get paged while I’m rounding, read it, and then forget about it. Now I go through my pager at every hour to ensure that I already responded to all my pages and then answer ones that I missed/forgot.  On a semi-related note, a while back I wrote about good paging etiquette.
2. Let people know when you're out: I work a rotating schedule. As a result, it’s hard to predict when I’m in or out of the hospital. Sometimes I’ll come back on service and find urgent emails or texts that are a few days old. Now I leave an away message with my return date and my supervisor’s contact information on both email and hospital text. If someone really needs to get a hold of me, my supervisor has my personal cell phone number.
3. Be conscientious of what time you consult: I generally try to get all of my nonurgent consults done before 3pm. Many services have only 1 resident covering after 3pm, so I try not to page/call unless I have an emergency. 
4. Call the nurse if something needs to be done urgently: Being a nurse means being the ultimate multitasker. Room 5 is due for his IV Amphotericin, Room 2's Foley is supposed to come out prior to void trial with Urology, Room 1's infusion completed and is beeping, and Room 4 is a bit altered and yanked out her PICC. Now I’m placing an order for Room 3 to get IV Lasix due to concern for pulmonary edema. However, the nurse may be preoccupied with Room 4 and not see the order in the computer for some time. If I really need to the patient to get the Lasix right way, I’ll place the order through EMR and then call the nurse and see what their situation is. If they’re crazy busy with Room 4 and likely to be unable to get to the Lasix within the next 15min, I ask whether they’re okay with me asking another nurse to give the Lasix now. Usually the answer is yes.
5. Value your nurses: Nurses know the patient best. They’re the ones answering call bells, giving meds, doing dressing changes, etc. Unfortunately they oftentimes bear the brunt of everyone’s frustrations, from patients to patients’ families to attendings to managers. Not to mention, they’re the ones doing the dirty work. Bedside nurses are the heartbeat of healthcare, but they also are high risk for burnout. Always support your nurses, whether that’s volunteering to answer a patient’s family member’s 17th phone call of the day or responding to a patient’s call bell yourself. 
6. Know how to get a hold of someone quickly: It’s less than ideal to page someone repeatedly. At my hospital, if I need to talk to an attending urgently, I call the operator and ask them to connect me directly to the attending’s cell phone. If a patient is crashing and we’re not in the ICU, I dial the emergency number and call a rapid response, which sends people running into my patient’s room. 
7. Plan your discharge meds from Day 1: The goal of every admission is to treat the patient and then discharge them safely. Send medications early for prior auth and call the pharmacy to make sure that they have medications in stock. (One time a patient’s insurance didn’t cover Levofloxacin, of all things.) 
8. Keep social work and care coordination aware of all needs from the start: Does your patient looks unsteady? Place a PT/OT consult and let social work and care coordination know that the patient might require home therapy services and/or DME so that they can start looking at services and companies that may be covered by insurance. Does your patient have a central line? They’ll likely need a home health service to teach them how to care for it daily at home. Do they seem to require frequent transfusions? They’ll probably need labs on discharge. Is the patient’s living situation safe (no heat/AC, possible abuse at home, financial difficulties, etc)? They may need alternative housing.
9. The attending is not always right: Generally speaking, the attending has the last say on how the team manages a patient. However, I’ve come across situations in which an attending’s decision put a patient in more danger. Sometimes asking them about their decision can help steer the care plan toward better patient care. Other times you just have to stand your ground and be okay with being on the receiving end of an attending’s misdirected rant. Report these instances to your manager and to other higher-ups.
10. Always have gloves in your pocket: You never know when you’ll find a mess. Or which part of the body someone asks you to examine. Or how hygienic a person is (or is not).
11. Verify weird vitals: I was very new when I walked into work, opened a patient’s chart, and promptly bolted down the hallway when I saw a patient’s O2 sats recorded as 15-20s. I found the patient sitting up in bed, eating breakfast, and bewildered by me bursting into the room. Turns out that overnight someone mistakenly recorded his respirations as the O2 sats.
12. Remove whatever tubes you can: Anything entering the body is an infection risk. Does your patient still need that Foley placed by the surgery team? No? Yank it (don’t actually yank because ouch). Is your patient A&O and able to eat without aspirating? Remove the NG tube. Does your patient have good veins and require infrequent transfusions/labwork? Pull their central line.
13. Take a buddy with you to emergencies: Two heads are better than one. Even if you’re a seasoned provider and well-equipped to manage an emergency, you might need another body to help with performing CPR, making urgent calls, grabbing supplies, etc. 
14. Ask your patients about premeds for procedures: We all have different levels of pain tolerance. A procedure goes far more smoothly if your patient is comfortable. Note: if you’re going to premed with Ativan or an opiate in the outpatient setting, make sure they have a driver.
15. Be good to your charge nurse and unit secretary: I don’t know how they do it. If I had to manage the unit’s signout, patient complaints, calls from other floor, being yelled at by providers, verifying paper orders, and finding beds for incoming patients- all at the same time - I’d lose my mind. 
16. If your patient is mad, just shut up and listen: There are many things that you can’t control: the time it takes for a patient to get a room, the temperature of hospital food, the dismissive attitude of your attending, etc. And oftentimes the patient knows this. My reflex is to want to apologize for things and overexplain why different things are happening. But sometimes the patient just needs to rant. Take a step back and just listen. That can make all the difference.
17. Fact check your notes: The framework for your progress note often is the note from the day prior. It sounds obvious, but make sure that you go through the note and make updates and changes accordingly. If today is 01/15, there’s a good chance that the Fungitell from 12/31 is not still pending. 
18. Try to learn some nursing skills: This is one of the areas in which I most envy my NP colleagues. If a patient’s IV pump is beeping or their central line need to be flushed, I oftentimes awkwardly step out of the room and look vacantly into the distance for a nurse. I’ve finally figured out how to spike a bag (albeit I do so very slowly, and it certainly makes the RNs giggle some). I talked to our unit’s nurse manager, and she’s willing for me to learn some nursing skills from the staff during a slow day- we’ll see when thing slow down!
19. Be kind: Generally speaking, being in a hospital is stressful. Patients are feeling out of sorts, and staff are working with constant dinging in the background. I rant plenty on this website, but I’m kind to everyone at work (with few exceptions) because it makes things more comfortable for everyone. Additionally, if you are always kind to your patients and colleagues, your reputation will speak for itself. One time I was walking down a hall with poor reception while on my ASCOM with a notoriously standoffish nurse from another unit. My phone cut out. She called my unit’s nurse manager to complain, and the nurse manager told her that I would never hang up on purpose. My interactions with the nurse going forward were always more pleasant in nature.
20. Support your team: The best colleagues are not the smartest colleagues; the best coworkers are the ones who have your back. Whether it’s a medical emergency or just a strange situation, it’s important to be supported and to give support.
I know that I’ve learned a lot more than this, so I’ll likely be adding to this throughout the year. Happy Snow Day, all!
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verdisketch · 4 years ago
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also, because it's not me if i dont be salty, I did see some mutterings of people who wondered why I brought back the race discourse around the same time as the kickstarter last year; I can fully and honestly say I had no idea. Me and my sib sometimes reminiscence on our experience in 4s fandom, especially since it happened at a formative time (19/20 for me, younger for them) and taught us a lot about how to navigate racial justice and discourse. Especially in fandom spaces.
(another readmore! It got long.)
like, I'm fully aware it was half a decade ago, but the lessons I learned then are kind of ingrained in me. I also never stopped being visibly Asian. A lot of the white people I debated with in that forum can move on and never think about race again, and I literally never can. (I am, however, forever grateful some people got back in touch with me, either here or elsewhere, to tell me how my and other's words impacted them.)
I got to take a break during quarantine, but upon re-entering society it is a part of my everyday life again. Like, the other day someone told me I looked like a Kpop star and started describing which of my and an unrelated woman of another race's features were the same, unprompted, and I had to politely stare her down until she stopped.
And I never want to tell people to boycott M1nna or stop supporting her. That's a decision everyone has to make for themselves. I don't believe in cancel culture for small indie artists (which she is), and I don't believe I should trash a person's livelihood because she made something that I don't personally like.
It means that I, as someone who bought her first book, refuse to buy her second and third; it means I haven't touched the site in years; I blocked her on relevant social medias so that I don't see her; and sometimes friends still tell me stuff that happens, like the bunny comic, and I lose my mind because literally I don't think even the most morally high-minded person can read that and not go what the fuck and make a few untagged posts about it.
but! I wanted to address that one thing, because I saw something about it at the time, dismissed it, and then decided 'actually, no, I wanna talk about it'. No, I didn't reignite race/forum discourse as a cheap way to try to undercut her kickstarter sales. If I wanted to undercut her sales, or really put her in hot water, I have so many other avenues than politely using a sideblog and censoring her name and not even tagging the main comic tag in an attempt to keep it separate from the main 4s fandom.
Like, I've never shared this before, or I've only shared it through DMs and hinted publicly, but a staff member of H1v3w0rks personally reached out to me at the time to get the slur off the page way back when. I still know this person, and if I really fucking wanted to, I could organize a bunch of yall to like, idk, sign a letter that goes 'hey can you talk to M1nna about this'.
I could escalate. I'm not going to because I am not evil, I don't personally believe in censorship, I have my own shit to do, and I actually don't think it would work anyway. Any rational employer would be like 'a badly written bunny comic created on M1nna's own time, that isn't contracted to us specifically, is literally not any of our business'. One unfortunate incident 5 years ago is also not grounds for talking to M1nna. It happened five years ago and they already talked to her about it (The specifics of this, or whether it happened, is all conjecture on my part. The contact I had was basically 'you're upset? ok. what's an acceptable substitute. I'll talk to her about it.')
This may seem like a ridiculously longwinded and granular look at how I approach a content creator I do not like or agree with but I want to make it absolutely, one hundred percent, crystal clear, that I both a) don't have an elaborate revenge plan nor will I ever, b) do not condone an elaborate revenge plan towards her. I understand the timing was bad, and I apologize, but I truly do not believe that the posts affected her kickstarter sales, nor would I want them to.
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ahiddenpath · 3 years ago
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Hidden’s Life
Life chatter beneath the cut.
Haha, coming onto my first day after vacation, I found out someone in my team was quarantining following covid exposure, so I went from “vacation calm” to “AHHHH” very fast!  The week turned out fine, though.  Seriously, though, I’ve spent about 6 weeks this year covering for people who were out because of exposure or daycare loss related to covid...  Luckily, because of the vacation, this time I wasn’t already head-deep in my own stuff in addition to taking on someone else’s, so it wasn’t a problem.
I’m kind of in a weird place, I think?  I want to start looking for a new job, I did apply to one position and update my resume, but I don’t know that I will hear from them.  I need to get more serious about it...  Looking for jobs is pretty much the worst non-emergency thing that can happen, though, lol (well, that and moving).
In my industry, you pretty much get a 3% raise each year.  This year, inflation has been about 5%, meaning that the only way to prevent yourself from losing money is to get a new job with a pay bump.  Actually, generally speaking, the best way to maximize your salary is to job hop every 2-3 years.  I’ve been at my job for 5 years, so I’m overdue :/  Also, we keep losing people, and while we aren’t in a dire situation...  I could find a better place.
I haven’t been doing much introspection/thinky thinking lately.  I need to focus on good habits again.  This kind of thing naturally ebbs and flows, so it’s okay, but I want to work on it.  
I have been talking more about witchy stuff, which is always interesting!  My witchy friend tells me that, as always happens when the world gets more chaotic, people are turning to witchy stuff...  But they end up basically “buying” a witchy lifestyle through purchasing crystals/tarot decks/incense/moon phase merchandise/etc instead of practicing mindfulness, trying some simple rituals, reaching out to help others, etc.  She calls this New Age, whereas a practitioner is a Clever Man or Woman.  I don’t know much about it, but it’s been interesting to look into.  Basically, there are a lot of con artists trying to make easy money off of crystals and stuff, and even pretending to be witchy people who have a large social media presence to sell more stuff to their audience.
Man, people will try to make a quick buck off of anything.  I think the point is that...  Practicing is apparently about taking care of yourself and others and connecting to yourself, other people, the planet, and energies between all of those things.  It’s not about...  I dunno, making your ex come back or cursing people or whatever.  I am outside of all of this and trying to make sense of it out of curiosity, though, so don’t quote me xD  
But my understanding is a witch isn’t making love potions or trying to influence a situation.  They are bringing tea with herbs that will help soothe someone who isn’t feeling well and listening to people who are struggling.  If you read Pratchett, apparently his witch series about Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg is fairly on point.
As for writing, I’ve done a bit of TIL work.  I think I am almost done the next chapter, I’m hoping to get at least one more fully done before the end of the month, so I start getting ahead.
I hope you’re all doing well!  Mwah!
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femininenachos · 5 years ago
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Hello I am here to tell you a saga about how my dumb ass landed smack in the middle of a fic trope for the ages today and fucked it up so completely I just have to tell someone. This story just screamed Clexa and as the unofficial captain of this ship, I lay my disaster at your feet (it’s kinda long so buckle in). I actually thought about writing this as a fic, but I don’t know that I’d do the dynamic justice. Anyway, to preface, we’ve been in quarantine for three weeks. (1/?)
Laundry is done, house is clean, yard is mowed, home projects are complete, I’ve been staring at a screen too much, and I’m going crazy. In the spirit of not losing my mind while social distancing, I decide to take a long motorcycle ride as it is a marvelous day outside. I ride a beautiful all matte black Triumph Bonneville that has more style and sass than I could ever hope to possess in a lifetime. I am cooler by proxy just for having it. (2/?)
I also live in Washington State where gorgeous views and endless forests abound with winding roads that are absolutely perfect for riding on a warm day. I set off towards the Tahuya State Forest with no real goal in mind, just enjoying the sun and the wind and how fuckin smashing I look in my trendy leather riding gear on my absolute unit of a motorcycle. I’m not really paying attention to where I’m going or how I’m going to get back (I have my phone, I could have looked it up if I needed to 3/?
and I wind up quite a ways into the forest near this lake with some jaw-dropping lakefront properties and before long realize I’m going in circles and was so distracted by the landscape I wasn’t paying attention to the road that got me there. After about 20 minutes of aimless riding trying to find my exit path I’m about to stop and pull out my phone when I see a woman walking a golden retriever along the side of the road. So I slow down and pull off to the side a dozen yards in front of her, 4/?
(I’m a petite person but someone approaching you in a fully blacked-out helmet can be a bit of a red flag and I wasn’t in the mood to get punched). I’d been riding for so long my legs were a bit shaky so when I dismounted I kicked the side of my engine but didn’t think anything of it. I start walking over to this lady who had slowed down a little when I stopped and got off my bike, and tried to give a huge, bright, friendly smile (to, you know, not be threatening), (5/?)
which she returns with a little bit of confusion. I get to about ten feet away (again, social distancing) and my useless lesbian brain short-fucking-circuits. She’s very, very, very pretty in black leggings and a cream-colored oversized fisherman’s sweater. Blonde hair up in a messy bun and rockin’ some RayBans like the shits were designed with her in mind. Mind goes blank, I go full mud turd until she raises her eyebrows and kind of tilts her head and I’m still like, “fuck fuck fuck fuck” (6/?)
and realize I’ve yet to quit grinning like an absolute dunce. Forcing myself to take a deep breath I go, “Hi! (way too loudly) I’m kind of going in circles trying to find a way back to Belfair, do you know the road that heads that way?” She gives me a huge grin with a sympathetic chuckle and I think I’m going to pass out so I almost didn’t register her saying, “Yeah of course, you just missed it. Head back that way (points), and take a left at the house where the bright yellow SUV is parked (7/?)
it’ll get you back to the main road where there’s signs to get you to the highway.” I’m approaching full fight or flight mode with how nervous and completely out of my depth I am. I mean, on a normal day I can at least act sane around pretty girls, if not a little cocky, but I was absolutely blind-sided by this angelic creature set against a picturesque backdrop (mountains, a lake, huge evergreen trees) on a blissful day in the remote woods of Washington. I barely fumble fuck a thanks (8/?)
and do an awkward backwards/side trot back to my bike and get on to start it up, and it fucking WON’T. I sit there in shock, like, “oh god. Oh no. Oh no no no,” and I’m just dumbly staring at my ignition when I hear her say, “you okay over there?” and my insides just shrivel up. I look back at her and give a very uncertain, “yeah, all good! (very fake cheery, it was painful)” and try to start my bike again, no dice. She starts to ACTUALLY approach me and I’m panicking (9/?)
until I notice when I kicked my bike while getting off I had knocked the spark plug cap loose. I furiously jammed it back on and tried starting my bike again and fucking hallelujah it roared right up. I look back at her and she stops her approach, an odd smile on her face before she waves and I smile back in one of those like Harry Potter dribbles water out of his mouth catastrophe smiles. Cram my helmet back on, get the thing into gear and ride off with a little wave behind me. (10/?)
My 45-minute drive home I was obviously mentally abusing myself for being SO. FUCKING. USELESS. Because like, what if she was going to ask to help? What if I hadn’t been so fucking awkward and actually managed to have a conversation? I didn’t know anything about her (I mean she wasn’t wearing any rings, but that doesn’t really mean much), but like, GODDAMN. I could have been cool about it or even not realized it was my spark plug that was the issue. (11/?)
What if I had gotten stranded and she offered me a cup of tea? The possibilities were ENDLESS and I just... drove off. Fuck my life. In hindsight it probably wasn't that bad, but like, it could have been so much better. (12/12)
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This was a truly epic tale of useless lesbianism. 12/10, best thing I’ve read all week. You had me frantically refreshing my activity feed waiting for the conclusion.
But now I need a 50k word fix-it fic where you track each other down over social media and love blossoms during the pandemic.
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danielle-pov-blog · 4 years ago
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SELF-LOVE IS A MUST
Sometimes or should I say most of the time? We get so harsh on ourselves. We tend to forget that we are also humans who need care and affection. We always see the good side of others and we degrade our own capabilities, the things that we have. In recent times, the world is in despair because of the pandemic. You must take this quarantine as an opportunity to focus on taking care and improving yourself.
I was a victim of bullying back in my primary years. I was bullied because of my physical features such as my eyes, my hair. Some people think that my hair was too thick, bulky and frizzy. I ignored those things but it left a scar on me which made me lose my confidence. It was so hard regaining back the things you already lost for a long time. I am still working and fixing myself up and here are the things that I listed on my personal notebook for me to be able to take care and have enough time for myself, now I am sharing these things with you.
1.    Live in the present.
You cannot change the past, you cannot predict your future. You must live in the moment and work on the things you have and what you do not have today. The only thing you must take from the past are life lessons.
 2.    Think Positive, make it a mindset.
Optimism and seeing the positive side of everything can help you sustain in the long run. It can help you stand in every storm.
 3.    Do not compare.
Yes, there are people who are way better than you, who has a lot more to offer than you then so what? You are limited edition, you are unique and beautiful just the way you are! Never be ashamed of your physical appearance, your flaws are the things that make you unique. Do not compare with what they have and what you have, life is not a race. I am sure that better days are coming. Everything is already well planned by God.
 4.    Make gratitude a habit.
Don’t count the bad things you had and what you currently have, instead count the blessings. Every little thing is a gift from God that serves as an instrument to help you improve but sometimes those lessons come in a challenge. Someone said “gratitude is life changing” if you are grateful for everything you have, then there’s nothing more to ask. Make it a habit, say thank you even if it is a small thing, surely you’ll notice that life is much better when you are contented and you appreciate the things around you.
 5.    Recognize your worth.
No one knows you fully except for yourself. If a person leaves you, then let go. If something is slowly breaking you then let it go. If someone treats you bad and you feel sad about it then don’t be. Those people don’t deserve any inch of you. You must know your worth and don’t settle for less. Stop chasing other people or things. You are important, you are highly valued.
   Most of the teenagers right now are suffering from anxiety or worse, depression. Do not let bad experiences and people ruin you, turn you into another person. Always stay awake, our minds are the most dangerous place. It controls us and manipulates us. Start loving yourself, accept yourself and you’ll see a big difference the next day you wake up. Do not focus on social media, it is becoming toxic as what I have observed. Do not aim for expensive material things, they are temporary. There are a lot of things around that are worth the time, your family, your hobbies, your strengths and weaknesses, your dreams, work on it. We all have our right time to bloom just like those beautiful flowers. This pandemic that we are currently facing teaches us a lot of lessons. Doctors are encouraging us to take vitamins, eat nutritious food, have enough sleep, practice proper hygiene which simply means we need to take this time to take good care of ourselves. Take this moment to fix yourself, improve, to love yourself to be exact.  
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happyinmyness · 4 years ago
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MY COVID STORY: A STORY OF GOD’S FAITHFULNESS
It was December 2019 when I started praying for a new job opportunity in south area as I was working in north area back then and needed to stay in a boarding house during weekdays. During that time, I was finding it hard to be physically separated from my mother as we were still both grieving due to passing away of my father 5 months ago.  
It was February 2020 when I got a clear confirmation from the Lord to resign from my previous job and to grab a new job offer in a company located in south. My heart was grateful but a same time a little bit worried that time because I know that I only have small savings and I won’t be having my salary for one and a half month but God spoke to me through the verse:
 Philippians 4:6 says,
“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your request be made know to God”
Little did I know, God was up to something I haven’t ever imagined. My supposed to be first day on that company was also the day when we started to embrace this huge change in our country - March 16, 2020, the first day of our lockdown. And because of that, I was not able to start.
It was after 3 months, when the company called me again to inform that I need to wait until August to September for my onboarding. My heart got broken but I couldn’t do anything but to trust God and His plans. So I waited on Him…
Fast forward to August, I woke up one morning feeling very sick, from having flu-like symptoms to totally losing my sense of smell and taste after 5 days. On the early morning of August 21, the first day of our online retreat, I got swabbed. I was going to serve as one of the Facilitators but I felt like I was ready to back out. I kept on telling the Lord that I was not prepared. I was not prepared physically as there were still series of unusual headaches and lightheadedness, and emotionally because aside from me not feeling well, my mother was starting to feel the same symptoms I had. But then, God reminded me that it’s not my work and He would be the One to sustain me all throughout. So I trusted Him…
The swab test result came out last August 25 and I tested positive for Covid-19, but amazingly I still felt peace in my heart that I could not explain. When I was doing my journal that day, I went back to the verse where God spoke to me way back February which is Philippians 4:6 and it was only that moment when I realized that the promise for that command is in verse 7.
Philippians 4:7 says,
“And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ.”
Truly, God is faithful to His promises. I have a lot of questions in my mind like why – why I got infected when I was not even going outside the house?, how – how would I be able to continue serving during the retreat?, where – where are we going to get supplies for our daily needs if we are not allowed to go out?, and when – when the company where I’m supposed to be hired, will call me again to give an update for the status of my employment?.
Sometimes I get the answers and sometimes not. But in spite of this, me and my mother are experiencing peace not from ourselves but from the Lord Himself. God is incomprehensible and I may not understand everything about Him and all that’s happening but I have been reminded that the all-powerful God who is beyond us in every way loves us in ways we cannot fully grasp.  
I praise God for me and my mother, that we do not experience severe symptoms considering that we are both asthmatic, I praise God for He was able to sustain and equip me during our single’s retreat, I praise God for continuously providing us our needs during our quarantine by using a lot of people who are willing to extend their help. And all these things is not because of what I’ve done, because I am unworthy of anything, but in spite of my shortcomings and flaws, God has been so much loving and gracious. I praise God for reminding me that our joy should not be based in our circumstances but only in His presence and that our security shouldn’t be found in earthly things but in Christ alone.
All praises and glory to the God! 
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biayahlife · 4 years ago
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Boundaries Post-Pandemic
"Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom."  -- Aristotle
I don’t know what to write about today. I don’t want to seem like I’m always complaining about something and I don’t want to sound like a broken record regarding the pandemic or Cinnamon or finances or anything I’ve already addressed. It’s tough because things are still mostly standing still.
Miayah got her first dose of the Pfizer vaccine a couple days ago and I got the first shot of Moderna about a week and a half ago and we’ve already started moving toward making plans with people. My sister’s birthday is in two weeks and I reached out to my family to see if they want to get together (my parents and my sister are fully vaccinated) and they said yes. We’re going to do a potluck. Miayah and I have been feeling bolder and even went out to KBBQ (delicious!) and to a shop called Daiso (a Japanese dollar store of sorts). This is a work in progress.
I’ve always been an introvert that needs a lot of alone time but I’m relearning what that means. The pandemic, even for hermit-like me, was really difficult in terms of isolation. This is a learning experience though because we went out for hours on Saturday and as I write this on Sunday I am DONE. So done. I don’t want to be disturbed, I don’t want to speak with anyone, I don’t want to go anywhere. Was it always like this? Before things changed did I need that sort of recovery time after a day out or has this feeling been heightened by how much alone time I’ve had the privilege (I say this loosely as it was an involuntary thing) of indulging in?
"Solitude matters, and for some people, it's the air they breathe."  -- Susan Cain
I know that a common theme in the social media I follow has been that our social separation and the removal of the need to participate in performative roles has changed how a lot of people prioritize their needs. Some people have had time to reassess their gender identity. Some people have had time to reassess just how busy they want to be. Some people have had time to reflect on their relationships and have discovered how healthy or unhealthy they may be. Some people have had time to decide to change the image they want to present to the world, whether it be through fashion, the way they speak, or the adornment they choose to place on their bodies. A lot of people have learned that they want to give other peoples’ opinions significantly less weight in their lives. I know that for myself I discovered that I value having time to myself to not do anything or speak with anyone. This has turned out to be very precious to me.
Pre-pandemic we’d have plans 5-6 days a week and looking back I can now see that that was too much for me. I need recovery time or I’ll burn out, especially considering that I work with a group of people that drive me crazy, in person, five days a week. We would have ��Tipsy Tuesday” every Tuesday, we’d have dinner parties 1-2 times a week, we’d have the god kids and my niblings over regularly, we’d go out for date nights every week, we’d do projects together and go shopping and looking back on it…. As fun as it was I was constantly exhausted and overwhelmed. Sometimes I just wanted everything to stop so I could lay in bed and sleep for 12 hours but that never seemed to be an option. This realization is something I’m very grateful for; now I need to figure out how to set appropriate boundaries with the people I love in my life and how to actually enforce them.
"Boundaries are a part of self-care. They are healthy, normal, and necessary."  -- Doreen Virtue
I’ve never been super great about boundaries. I’ve always worried about how other people perceive me and if they like me and if they view me in a positive light. I want to be seen as loving, friendly, welcoming, gracious, funny, kind, and so much more however I’ve let this take me to places where I’ve taxed myself far too much. I can’t fall back into old patterns that will leave me exhausted, drained, and over my limit constantly. In addition to establishing and enforcing boundaries I need to practice giving myself more grace and giving myself permission to acknowledge how stressed I am. This is a big one. Sometimes I feel like I “should” be a certain way at any given moment - less emotional, less stressed, more focused, more together - but this doesn’t honor or acknowledge what may be affecting my mental and emotional state.
"Before I can live with other folks I’ve got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience."  -- Harper Lee
Lately I’ve been wondering why I feel like a space case at work and why I can’t seem to get anything done -- there’s so much still going on! Why would I give myself a hard time when I’m facing thoughts of Cinnamon’s health, my health, my finances, the myriad of projects that I’m in charge of, keeping up with the house and chores and laundry, arranging appointments for vaccines, stressing about Miayah’s health --- it’s no wonder I’m not doing what I’d consider perfection! I have to stop and give myself a second to reflect and breath and forgive myself for being so stern. I am not an automaton! I will not be the same day in and day out no matter what’s happening in my life. I cannot expect the exact same amount and quality of work from moment to moment and it’s unfair to ask that of myself. I wouldn’t berate my friends for having good days and bad days - that’s human and natural - so why am I being so hard on myself?
These are all things I have to keep in mind as the pandemic slowly loses its grip on the country and we find ourselves with the freedom we’ve been searching for for the last 14 months. I implore you to look at what’s changed for you - what habits have you picked up, what you’d like to avoid doing again, what you’ve learned to love - and decide what you’re going to keep and what you’ll leave after you’ve been freed from your personal quarantine situation. I hope that you can find grace for yourself and that you have been able to transform yourself into a better and happier version of you.
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econ23econlive · 4 years ago
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COVID, Music, and Economics
          One of my hobbies over the past couple of years has been creating electronic music. When Covid-19 hit I came back to the Bay Area and started working once again on music with my friend Flynn. 
The EP we developed: 
haveymusic.com
https://chasingstars.haveymusic.com/EP
The first economics term that we covered, opportunity cost, has played a major role in my life with Covid. There have been many tradeoffs and benefits of being home and quarantining. While I haven’t had much interaction with people or been able to fully focus on my education I have had a lot more time than usual to work on projects outside of school such as music. There is no way I would have had time during in person school to work on 5 songs and actually finish them. There was also the issue of distance where my friend Flynn goes to UCSB, so working together (at least the amount we did) would not have been possible. 
The Music Industry as a Whole
The music industry took a big hit from Covid because of the lack of shows happening where most artists earn most of their revenue. With the advent of streaming, artists really make very little per listen compared to what they used to. Spotify pays about .006 cents per stream and that’s on the high end meaning that 100k plays only nets an artist at most 600 dollars (not including a label's cuts or any other writers). Shows provide a great amount of revenue not only from ticket sales but also from merchandise sales. The streaming industry is overall monopolistic with very few distributors and because of this, places like Spotify have no need to change how much an artist is paid. There are really no other options. One thing that has recently helped artists margins on songs is the option to forgo the record label and use cheap distribution services like Distro Kid or CD baby to upload songs to all the major streaming services like Spotify, Apple music, and Youtube. However, this means that individual artists must do their own promotions to have a chance at ever building a fan base which I’ll touch on again later.
Spotify’s payment of artists is an example of a perfectly elastic market. As shown on the graph below, no matter how much the demand for an artist increases the price stays the same for both the user ($10 a month) and the artist (around .006 cents per stream). 
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Now for Spotify it is a little different with them losing money every time someone streams a song. They have a monthly amount each user pays and in fact many of their superusers make them lose money because they stream more hours than Spotify can pay in royalties. Though as they are a hot tech company that seems to not be on their or their investors’ minds! Spotify has to walk the line of providing good recommendations of songs while also making sure people don’t listen for more than about 5 hours a day. Spotify has a fairly consistent marginal cost of just the pay out and server space that each song/artist takes up. The total profit for Spotify would be a slimming of profits until they stop having money to cover each stream and then at that point they would slip into losing money.
Creating Music
There were multiple types of costs for us when creating the EP. We had fixed costs such as the music software, midi software, distribution costs, and computers that we used for production. We also had costs that increased with each song. The marginal cost was very similar across each additional song (though it could be argued that spending more time on one song versus another reduces the overall quality). In this case, the marginal cost included mixing/mastering for each song which is done to improve the balance of all individual instruments as well as creating the correct amount of loudness/compression for modern streaming platforms. We could have done this ourselves; however, for me it was worth getting it done by someone who was established in the industry. In our case, the price was fixed for each additional song. We also had to pay for the cost of getting visuals for the project.
Promotion
For this release we completely started fresh and so we started without any following. Spotify is not perfectly competitive for artists because the algorithm strongly favors artists with a bigger following because they have better data and know that likely the song is of some quality.
We chose to use Facebook/Instagram ads and a service called Submit Hub which basically allows you to pitch a song to people who have big Spotify playlists. 
We had a multitude of issues with Facebook (not really related to economics but we got banned about 13 times and I had to talk to 10 different representatives before getting the problem somewhat resolved), but once those were fixed we ran ads targeting artists that we thought were somewhat alike to us like Slander and Midnight Kids. We also split our daily budget between people in the US and other Spotify countries. The US ended up being about twice as expensive compared to other countries for a conversion which means someone clicked through and listened to it. This is because there is less competition from other people advertising as well as more engagement (greater number of clicks) in other countries. 
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(Example of the landing page)
By driving traffic and increasing demand, Spotify can sometimes reward you by increasing an artist's quantity of playlists through algorithmic playlists like Discover weekly and Release Radar. For us the ads greatly helped create more demand for the songs both through direct clicks and hitting the algorithm. 
Results
Overall, it is very unlikely that we will make our money back on this release; however, running at a loss can be worth it if we are building up a fanbase and having people stream the songs. I am pretty satisfied with the results and we just recently triggered the Spotify algorithmic playlists so I am excited to see how those work out. As of now we have about 25k streams total and just got into Spotify release radar and radio. 
Alex Cronin
Id# 13382511
Disc: W 1-1:50
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mytennisdiary · 4 years ago
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Australian Open 2021 - Day 1
Sunday, Feb 7 - Sunday Feb 21
This is my first attempt at recording my impressions while watching a major tennis tournament. I am watching from my home in Pleasantville, NY via the YouTube TV app on my Playstation 4. This is the 3rd tennis major since my father passed away in August 2020. I’m considering turning the finished product in to a book. I can imagine creating short books for every major sporting event I watch. It’s just an idea, but one which interests me today.
Monday, Feb 8
I’m not watching any of the first day live since Super Bowl 55 was last night. The Bucs beat Kansas City convincingly behind Brady and a strong performance from their defense. I begin the tournament on Monday morning.
It’s in the mid-60s in Melbourne, unseasonably cool for this time of year. The tournament is being broadcast on ESPN and much of the talk revolves around the complicated logistics of holding a tournament in a country that has practically eradicated Covid-19 and wants to keep it in check. The run up to the tournament was dominated by headlines about players being confined to their hotel rooms for 19 hours a day; potentially more in the case of those who flew on the same planes as players who were quarantined. Meanwhile, outrage at the preferential treatment given to star players by Tennis Australia has also made waves, with players such as Tennys Sandgren publicly airing grievances. Top players were allowed more members in their parties. They stayed at different hotels and had more expansive access to practice facilities. Patrick McEnroe and Mary Joe Fernandez are the initial commentary team. They are happy to have a crowd back in the seats, but to my eye the number of attendees is rather meager. 30,000 people are being admitted each day, but they are split into 3 sections and not allowed to go to other areas of the ground.  They claim that Rod Laver arena will be about half full for the final. Another wrinkle is the introduction of a fully automatic line-calling system. One of the strangest aspects is that players still have the ability to challenge calls, but since the same system that provides the challenge replays makes the call in the first place, they have no chance to actually win the challenge. The challenge now feels like something vestigial whose purpose has shifted from practical to therapeutic, allowing players to see the call in more detail without any ability to alter it. When a ball was close to the line, either in or out, they will put a little alert up that says “close call”. It’s strange, but the commentators seem to think that this system takes a bit of pressure off the players since they don’t have to be so focused on spotting close calls for themselves and knowing when to challenge. Another interesting detail about the line calling system is that they’ve programmed it to make calls with the voices of first responders from Australia. Masks are not required for fans in the stands. Some are wearing them, but others are not. Apparently, you are supposed to wear them when moving around the grounds. A lot of talk about how things are ostensibly normal, and yet there are these strange restrictions on this tournament. Seems like the restrictions might be more for appearances than anything else. Guess you would have to know what kind of big local events (concerts, sporting events) are being held and what conditions are like at those.
An interesting aside came from Chrissy when she discussed players warm-up routines. The players put in 30 minutes to an hour of hard cardio and strength training. Chrissy joked that the exercise they get just in warm-ups is what she used to get in a match. The courts are apparently playing a little bit quicker this year, even in the cool conditions. Apparently Tennis Australia used a different company to lay the surface of the courts this year and the quicker bounce was something that they had specifically in mind. The reason for the speed up has to do with there now being less sand/grit on the top of the surface than years past. They’re also using different balls this year after a lot of complaints last year that the balls were fluffing up. Also had a couple of matches on Margaret Court arena disrupted by birds.
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The broadcast begins with Osaka vs Pavlyuchenkova. Osaka is wearing a bright orange skirt with a black top and leggings, decorated with a blue, tan, and black camouflage pattern. Osaka pulled out of warmup tournament in semifinals with a shoulder “niggle”. She looks calm and balanced, hitting the ball deep into the court and attacking the corners off of short balls. The days of the inconsistent Osaka that followed her first 2 majors seem long behind us. Pavlyuchenkova looked uncomfortable with Osaka’s power early in the match. She did respond in the second set, imposing her will to a greater degree. However, it was clear that she was pressing to go for more to get ahead in points. Every time she made inroads Osaka countered with dazzling play. Osaka’s only weakness appears to be her approach to net, which doesn’t quite look smooth. She runs around balls to hit her two handed backhand which appears to be her more comfortable shot. Osaka wins 6-1 6-2 in just over an hour.
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Simultaneously, V. Williams vs Flipkens were locked in a tight veteran battle. Venus, now 40 years old was wearing an aqua colored dress and a white tennis cap. Her hair is shorter than I’ve ever seen it. She’s always had a tendency to look a bit gangly and off balance, but there is still some of the smooth grace she used to display. Venus didn’t win a single set in a major played in 2020, but she took the first set in a back and forth afair here. Flipkens, a 35 year old Belgian who wears sporty glasses and plays without a coach. She doesn’t give Venus a lot of pace and is looking to attack short balls and second serves with her forehand. The match was not without drama. Flipkens was able to make her uncomfortable with slice and did a good job anticipating her shots. That being said, Venus’s power ultimately carried her through. 7-5 6-2 in around 90 minutes.
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The next match featured S. Williams vs Siegemund. This is Serena’s 11th attempt to win her 24th career major. She’s wearing a pink, red, and black patterned body suit, not entirely dissimilar to the catsuit she word in Paris two year ago. Her left leg is entirely exposed, whereas her right leg is covered. She looks like she could be attending an aerobics class in the 80s. Siegemund, the 31 year old German, is a quality player, and like Pavlyuchnkova has been given an unfortunate draw. She likes to take the ball early and slice off the forehand. Serena was broken on her first service game, but quickly recovered. She has the easy power working today and looks to be rolling. Chrissy and Renee agree that Serena looks calm and in control; a good sign for her. Another talking point for Chrissy is Serena’s movement, which she thinks looks better than it has in years, especially charging to nets after drop shots. Siegemund never looked comfortable, especially dealing with Serena’s returns of her soft serves. 6-1 6-1. Apparently Serena is a big Tom Brady fan. I know she lives in Florida. Their were jokes about their ages in the post-match interview.
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B. Pera vs Kerber has started 5-0 for Pera. She’s an American citizen born in Croatia who I’ve never seen before. She’s tall, but not too tall. Seems to have strong legs. Hits good flat ground strokes. The forehand is powerful although can go off at times. Kerber, now 33, hasn’t played well in a while. Her best showing at a major last year was the 4th round. Pera did show some nerves, letting Kerber back into the match, but Kerber couldn’t recover from losing the first 9 games of the match. She just doesn’t have an offensive weapon. And although she can come up with amazing shots when she’s on her heels, she just doesn’t do it consistently enough to win matches at a high level any more. Bernarda Pera is certainly one to watch for the future. 6-0 6-4 in just over an hour.
Monfils and Milan both out in a couple of first round five-setters to unknowns. Gael was holding back tears in an emotional post-match press conference.
The next big match on Laver was Thiem vs Kukushkin. We joined it at 5-5 in the first set just in time to see Them broken by the krafty veteran from Kazakstan. Thiem dug in, playing some long rallies with his slice backhand before asserting himself with some big shots. Grueling and gritty first set won by Them is a pretty comfortable tiebreak. Interesting Kukushkin fact, his wife is actually his coach. Apparently she went to school to be a coach, giving her a lot more training to do this than most of the coaches who are just former players. I wonder what you learn at coaching school. A comical moment occurred when it turned out that the woman in Kukushkin was not actually his wife/coach. In fact,  Kukushkin and her apparently split and McEnroe read a note on air from Kukushkin saying that he way annoyed that commentators kept mixing up his new girlfriend with his ex wife. They also told a story about Kukushkin who, growing up in Russia, used to play in an empty swimming pool, as well as on wood courts at a nearby prison, by necessity. Apparently wood courts really used be a thing. Jason Goodall said he played on them in england. Kukushkin is hitting it big off his forehand, as big as Thiem, but it just isn’t enough.  Thiem wore Kukushkin down throughout the match. 7-6 6-2 6-3
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We went over to Zverev vs Giron. Zverev, in a sleeveless tank top looks like he’s read for the beach. Giron is an American who played college tennis at UCLA. He’s broken through in the last 18 months. I think I’ve seen him once before. McEnroe says he’s a counter-puncher with a “clean” backhand. Not that big and no big weapon, but seems to be rounding into form. Giron moves very well and is able to time his contact with ball in a way that makes him dangerous on a faster court. Zverev was swinging hard in the first set but making way too many errors. Giron got up big in the 1st set tiebreaker but then tightened up. He failed to convert 4 set point chances as Zverev got more conservative and played rock solid. However, on the fifth one, Giron pulled out the set when Zverev couldn’t do enough with his shots. The 2nd serve continues to be a problem for Zverev. He lets Giron back into the 2nd set. Zverev oscillates between being aggressive and dictating points and then falling back and being too passive, especially in tense moments. He almost let the 2nd set tiebreak get away, but pulled it out on his 3rd set point. Zverev was dialed in from the 3rd set on and Giron went away. 6-7 7-6 6-3 6-2
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Taylor Fritz, the only seeded American man pulled out a 4 set win against Ramos-Vinolas. 7-6 3-6 6-2 7-6
Bianca Andrescu returned to women’s tennis with a 3 set win over the Romanian Buzarnescu. She teared up after the match.
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Tiafoe vs Travaglia got some coverage next. Travaglia has a low ball toss and his serve can come at your pretty quick. Both he and Tiafoe seem to tighten up at key moments. There were 6 breaks in the first set and Tiafoe barely outlasted Travaglia in the tiebreak. Travaglia had played 3 matches in the last 2 days and the first set seems to have deciding in breaking his spirit. When Travaglia started slamming his thighs with his racket it was clear that his legs were failing him. Tiafoe seems to be at his best when he plays steady and cuts down his mistakes. He doesn’t seem to have the kind of weapon that could threaten a top player. 7-6 6-2 6-2
Dimitrov vs Cilic met in a battle of former top 10 seeds. Dimitrov served big to close out the first set. Cilic is a bit of a shell of himself, but he still found the ability at times to dictate with the serve and forehand. Despite showing some nerves in the conclusion, Grigor looked far superior athletically. 6-4 6-2 7-6
Augere-Aliasime vs Stebe saw Felix winning pretty comfortably. However, Gilbert discussed how Felix is 0-7 in his career in finals, often getting blown out. He seems to have problems with nerves which lead him to lose games in bunches. 6-2 6-4 6-2
Careno-Busta took out Nishikori in straight sets.
Halep vs Cabrera showcased a young Australian talent who doesn’t quite look ready for the big time. Halpe is neutralizing her power effectively and, as always, is able to change the kinds of looks she gives her opponent to keep her off balance. She baits Cabrera into repeatedly going for too much. The match was called by commentators from Tennis Australia. 6-2 6-1 Halep is playing doubles with a young Australian girl too. They got a wildcard to this event. 
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Djokovic vs Chardy was the final match on Rod Laver. One of the big talking points about Djokovic is that he has beefed up and put on some more muscle. He kept Chardy off balance all match. Chardy didn’t play badly, but Novak just frustrates guys and forces them to do too much. Novak had some nice lunging volleys and short responses to drop shots. 6-3 6-1 6-2 in about 90 minutes.
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Kyrgios vs Ferreira Silva sees Kyrgios return to action after 11 months. His forehand looks strong. He’s a good frontrunner. Served it out easily.
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Shapovalov vs Sinner was the marquee matchup of day 1 on paper. Sinner, the 19 year old, riding a 10-game winning streak had just won an ATP title the day before against Travaglia, but he had looked visibly exhausted doing so. Ranked 31, he’s the underdog against the 21 year old Shapovalov, ranked 12, but Dennis has lost his last 6 matches. Sinner’s biggest weakness is his first serve. Shapovalov’s weakness is his defense. He doesn’t have enough of a steady, reliable game when his weapons aren’t working. Sinner wins the first set after getting up an early break. Sinner seems to get the ball so deep so easily. Shapovalov has problems with consistency. However, Sinner isn’t capitalizing on his many break point chances and Denis is hanging around. Interesting fact; Sinner was an excellent skier earlier in his life. Brad Gilbert praises Sinner for his ability to diffuse power, something Shap doesn’t do as well. By extension, Sinner’s hard-down-the-middle return gives Shap problems. Shap is able to come up with some spectacular shots on the run and Sinner does seem to eventually let down in long points with errors. Shap’s errors tend to happen earlier in points, particularly on serve returns, which for him are inconsistent. Shap also seems to get too upset when he loses points. Very demonstrative when compared to Sinner who is so calm. Denis had some easier service games in the second set and his forehand seems to be hurting Sinner more. Brad Gilbert is calling this match with Chris Fowler. I think that Gilbert is one of the best color commentators. He has some of the most insightful observations about tendency and strategy. He also has a goofy side and he loves to tell stories. He feels like a real character and not a robot. He always pulls out irreverent nicknames; so far “Escape from Alcatraz”, “Weekend at Bernie’s” and “Sin City”. Sinner just not taking advantage of break points; he’s 1 for 11 early in the 3rd set. He fought off a few early in the 2nd and 3rd sets in ways that might just be breaking Sinner’s spirit. (Sinner escorted a moth off the court with his racket). Shapovalov, winning a lot of points off his first serve and displaying a much more successful defensive approach, has turned the match completely around. After dropping the 2nd set, Sinner was looking listless, making a lot of errors. Then, halfway through the 4th set Sinner had a second wind and suddenly was showing positive emotion. He started giving Denis a different look, dropping back on the return, and he cut out a lot of the errors. Shapovalov got into an argument with the chair about not being allowed to go to the bathroom and then called the trainer. They played a really tight first game of the fifth set. Shapovalov was able to dictate play with his forehand and push a tired Sinner around the court in order to eventually get the break. Then Shapovalov pulled out some underhand serving and aggressive serve-and-volley play. He took advantage of Sinner’s extremely deep return position, a strategic decision that seems to have been a mistake since Sinner often didn’t get his returns deep enough and was able to be caught being pushed too far off the court to recover. Sinner never went away, pushing the set all the way to 5-4 and even having a break point chance which he missed by a couple of inches on what would have been an incredible cross court winner on a Denis approach to the net. Shapovalov showed nerves, but ultimately finished the match strong with a winner. Best match of the first day by far and potentially a preview of many future matchups which will come far later in tournaments than the first round. 3-6 6-3 6-2 4-6 6-4 in an almost 4-hour battle.
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Maxime Cressy, a young serve-and-volley American, got a straight set win and will play Zverev in the 2nd round.
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toddlazarski · 4 years ago
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Last Suppers
Shepherd Express
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“Please let me go ‘round again.”
— John Prine
I thought the apocalypse would be more exciting. Some kind of heaven-sent fireball, a mushroom cloud of malaise, Mad Max dune buggies. In this far off light I’d always pictured myself bearded, barricaded, adroitly philosophical, suddenly quite adept at swinging a sort of spiked bat or other homemade zombie stopper. Instead, so far, some five weeks in, nobody I know has gotten sick. Nobody in my orbit has died. Even being accosted by our neighborhood Jehovah’s Witness on the street, being told of end times and other corporeal human collapses I couldn’t stand or fully hear—being as they were, uttered by a man six feet away, while a two-year-old pent-up from quarantine perched on my shoulders and periodically bonked my head urging movement—took place from a mindful, strangely respectable social distance. 
Mostly these days just find me as an iPhone-glued glut of dissociated dread. A musty sack of torpor filling out ironically-named Champion jogging pants and a Totino’s-stained hoodie crowned by a hastily shaved head. What I’m currently reminded of, for some reason, from somewhere deep within the lizard brain that was weaned on world-end movies, is Deep Impact, and the way it all ends for Tea Leoni’s character: in front of a beloved beachhouse, with brave acceptance, facing truth and demise in the form of an imminent asteroid death, with her—father, maybe? (This recall may be way off, as I only saw the movie once, maybe 20 years ago, but I have a current therapist-mandated pause from internet research as the slightest twitch toward dot com-ing leads inevitably, instantly to a Milla Jovovich in Fifth Element-like doom scroll of terror). Regardless, this is how I view my resignation when being generous: a soft, somber, single tear strong-willed nod and jutted-chin acquiescence. I’ve had my restaurant meals, if they never come again. I’ve had too many, at too many bars. I’ve lived. So, here I am, at the freezer again, my own beloved beachhouse, mustering strength, wondering how much Ben and Jerry’s will pass before life maybe resembles normal again, or else until I see St. Pete, or St. Paul, or whichever is the one at the gates. Measuring the days till Quetzalcoatl in pints of Chunky Monkey. Wondering if I’ll ever again eat Cherry Garcia as a little reward, for a jog and some push ups maybe, instead of a desperate substitute for therapy, lobotomy. My biggest preoccupation is really Instacart deliveries, and the thought of them, the threat of them, where we let the bags sit on the porch like sentinels with tales from the front lines, or like badges of middle class virus-avoidance privilege. We hope the wind cleans off the Corona, I suppose, and then we let the same bags sit inside, eyeing our wares cautiously, suspiciously by the door, weighing the three articles advising cleansing groceries is unnecessary versus the one—always from Medium—that states everything inside a grocery store will likely give you and your grandmother the plague. Then, between the subsequent wiping—of course—and the beginning to plan six days out for the next Instacart delivery, and then the moisturizing of hands out of necessity from washing hands far too much, there has been such a background din of quiet second-coming contemplation. With little to do but wipe the door handle again, with the closest social contact being yet another episode of Cheers, there’s been too much time to think on all this, on all that went, all that was snuffed by a brutal harsh Monday morning reminder—all our kicks, our joys, our dinner plans and drink diversions, all that was maybe never really deserved in the first place.
For one or another—or none at all—reason that I choose to not consider too closely, the last normal weekend in contemporary American existence was a big one. A Friday night trip to Enlightened Brewing to check out Derek Pritzl and the Gamble was a promising prospect, sure. They had recently introduced me to, made me fall deeply in love with, play over and over again, John Prine’s “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness.” Still, as things were, it was largely run-of-the-mill in those distant days of social possibility. Just line up one of a few willing babysitters, jot on the calendar absent-mindedly, leave it peppered, like always, with the growing-old adult notion of if I feel like it. The self-importance of a modern American. The expectation, the world owing me it’s pearls and it’s oysters and it’s artisanal double India Pale Ales, for some reason. There for taking, when we wished. It’s like we were all Mad Men men, coming home from work where you expect your dinner to be waiting, your children cleaned and polite. You did a little bit of work and now you are owed something, the other half of your existence, calm and orderly and “here are your slippers, dear.” Now there is no choosing or taking or rewarding yourself with a night out, or rewarding yourself with a night in. It’s simply like our parents have given us an indefinite timeout, with more whiskey, yes, but also more, much more, morbidity. And also our parents are not coming to our room, eventually, to tell us it will all be ok. Rather, now, they might come, and stand on the sidewalk, while we stand on the front porch awkwardly, not knowing what to do with our hands, with no Easter hugs even considered, and mom might leave sugar cookies in a bag on the sidewalk, as if we were in prison, and she was the jailer that had to slide our sustenance gruel through a slot in the door. Only her said bag came with a real wonder: do we have to disinfect that now? I ran into a friend at Enlightened, then another, then a friend of a friend, and then a work friend—hugs for all the normal tangly tendrils of an adequate social life, amplified by guitars and rollicking songs of regret and craft suds and jocular end-of-week revelry. The band was twangy and driving and jostly, and I wanted it to be louder. Actually my spoiled fragile ego knew I deserved it to be louder. Meanwhile I talked importantly about basketball and somebody told me about their trip to New Orleans. “I’ll be there in a month,” I said. Like an ignoramus, like tempting fate, like I was one of the kids on the playground in Sarah Connor’s nuclear apocalypse nightmare in Terminator 2. There was no Purell in sight, in mind. 
Later, at the Newport, the bartender handed me a beer list, and I didn’t even note that, or contemplate my mortality on the fact, he wasn’t wearing latex gloves. I leaned close, doing the thing you have to do at crowded bars where you wedge between two seated patrons, brush one or both, amplify your voice to the hunched-forward Sam Malone, spittle and open mouths and casual “excuse me, I’m sorry, man” contact with strangers not an issue or thought, let alone transgression against the whole of humanity’s existence. The bummer about the NBA that night was that the Bucks were losing to the Lakers. The saddest part about John Prine was the line: “How can a love that'll last forever, get left so far behind?” What would any of us say, had we knowl—in 5 days the entirety of the NBA machinery would be suddenly halted, a broom handle stuck in the grinding gears? That I would have no chance at seeing live music again, for the foreseeable future? And that, weeks later, due to the same crippling circumstances, John Prine would be dead?  
The next night, somehow, as if acting on some last-chance latent level, I found myself barreling south for a Saturday night in Chicago. I rode a crowded Amtrak. I held the steel handle up the steps, followed along close in line, plopped unworriedly right on the worn blue cloth seat, I ordered a Lyft, I closed a packed bar with out-of-town big-city tenacity. Old friends shared birthday cake in a corner. I flushed a toilet, maybe didn’t wash my hands for a full 20 seconds, poked at the jukebox, clinked glasses, performed once-normal finger and hand functions that would now cause me to douse both extremities to the elbow in alcohol and ask for a light. My buddy and I kept drinking like we were Goodfellas, bound shortly for a stint in the can, which, in hindsight, we sort of were. Then we ordered another Lyft back to his place, like signing the tab on the last real Saturday night. Sunday was disarmingly sunny, soft, pleasant, the kind of warm early spring sliver that catches you off balance, leaves you without the right clothes or your sunglasses. So we sat inside, at the bar at a place called the Moonlighter, where we nursed hangovers with micheladas and shared fiery chicken wings and sloppily severed a grease-dripping American-cheesed burger and shoved it down our gaping gullets and licked fingers and laughed at the bartender’s Nascar sweatshirt, bitched about his lassitude. It was still a day where you could like a bartender or not like a bartender, and you didn’t have to wonder if all bartenders had simply vanished, poof, gone on the wind, Leftovers-style. You could do your drinking business and move on to the next one. Which we did, literally, deciding on pizza and homebrews at a spot called Bungalow that takes—that took—itself probably a bit too seriously. We’ve often fallen into this habit of double lunch-ing, not so much because we are slobs, fat and greedy and gluttonous. And not as some kind of intuitive acknowledgment that we were approaching end times. It also wasn’t just a love of time together, collapsing the 100 miles that separates our lives with a collective unspoken vow of ceaseless Epicureanism. Well, maybe exactly because of all those reasons. Either way we ate, glad they take, took, themselves so seriously with each bite, sip. And I got a pie to go, tucking it under my arm through Union Station, cradling the box like a toddler’s favorite stuffed dinosaur during my ride home nap, a last pepperoni and sausaged vestige from the world of living, togetherness, an experience slice from before we began to view each other as potentially poisonous flowers.        
My final restaurant meal was the day after, at Copper Kitchen, my neighborhood greasy spoon of fluffy omelets and watery coffee that you can never get half down before a refill magically appears tableside. A welcoming diner with video poker, and some staff that still eye me a bit questioningly because I’ve only been coming here for two years, and not 30, like most patrons always around me. By now though, with some work, our regular waitress is beginning to know the score, my daughter and I having seemingly earned the corner booth I always steer her toward. I grab the high chair myself, never need a menu, she orders her own “Mickey Mouse pancakes, please” in an impossibly tiny voice. In many ways, actually, it feels small town-worn, lived-in, like a John Prine song. A surreal slowdown, a place with a cook with a “short order face.” A spot of warm plates and unjudging respite. “If I came home, would you let me in? Fry me some pork chops and forgive my sin?” Our daddy-daughter day this early March Monday was flowing in a far more friendly manner though: another successful trip to the Domes behind us, we had full-stomach cold afternoon warm bed naps ahead. I wanted to tell her some news I was suppressing too, having just briefly talked to my wife on the phone about her recent brief phone call with the doctor. The info was just beginning to gel and bacon-grease coagulate down around my ham and cheese omelet and double-buttered rye. “You’re going to have a sister,” I almost said. Instead I let her eat more bacon, I let the waitress squeeze her arm affectionately as she poured me yet more benign coffee that I would sip and sip until it was time to leave. I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t time yet. But maybe I missed the time. How could I have known, that now, weeks later, Copper Kitchen and restaurants like it, all restaurants, are in real danger of never fully opening again? How was I to know that soon there would be no business anywhere for good news?
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rememberthattime · 4 years ago
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Chapter 55. Third Anniversary
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Three years!  I really can’t believe it. I remember every moment of our wedding day, and the emotions are still so vivid that it feels like it could’ve been three weeks ago.
After Noosa and New Zealand for our first two anniversaries, how could Chelsay and I possibly celebrate this year?  
Ah, Paris. A return to where it all began.  
This trip was especially hard to come by. After the Scotland escape, I had zero doubts about Paris in late August. People were traveling, Coronavirus was under control in Europe, borders were open, and we’d found friends to watch Indy.
Then, chaos struck. I remember where I was: drinking my morning coffee and reading Twitter news. August 14. Due to a spike in French Coronavirus cases, the UK government announced that any travelers arriving from France were subject to a two week quarantine. Sure, this would impact Chelsay and I returning from Paris, but wasn’t a deal breaker - We can just work from home after our trip.
But I nearly spit out my coffee when I read France’s response. In an entirely petty political move, France announced they’d institute a reciprocal quarantine for travelers from the UK. THIS would be a problem. Chelsay and I were only going for three days, so we’d be stuck in the hotel the whole trip. Adding to the pressure, this weekend’s anniversary wasn’t the only one at risk... We had an upcoming French road trip that was now also on the chopping block.
Adding further chaos, that very same day, Indy’s stomach bug returned. Our friends that planned to watch him have their own puppy, and because the bug is so contagious, we’d now need to find a new sitter. Complete chaos. 
This was probably a sign. We should just delay the trip. But I NEEDED this trip! I’ve genuinely never been so busy at work. I was deploying a product and creating an entirely new program at the same time. I had to escape.
Chelsay & I were rattled, but determined to get away, we planned two alternate trips for this anniversary weekend, Rome or Lake Como. I incessantly refreshed Twitter waiting for news from France and, although the name of this post foreshadows a miracle, at the time, our Paris trip was doomed. There were a few weekend walks where Chelsay and I agreed we’d book Italy when we got home, but something always held us back. We wanted to go to Paris, and wouldn’t give up until we absolutely had to.
Somehow, the reciprocal announcement never came. France cooled, and perhaps due to my emails to every diplomatic department, realized there were still UK tourists willing to visit (and spend).
Chelsay and I eventually found a sitter for Indy, and our dream anniversary trip was back on! ...with renewed appreciation for how lucky we were to return to Paris.
We’d be taking the train for our first international trip in six months, and in a fitting send-off, Chelsay and I departed from St. Pancras Station on August 29. Exactly three years to the day that we were legally wed in the adjacent Camden Council Building.
We both exhaled as the train began along the tracks. After the past week’s twists & turns, Chelsay withheld any excitement until we were literally en route.
After arriving at Gare du Nord, our taxi to the ritzy Westin Vendome was an immediate flood of emotion. It was reminder of why we love Paris, the prettiest city in the world: with its cream hue, decadent ornaments, steep grey rooftops, and hidden attic skylights. It was a reminder of why we love traveling, and why we returned to the UK: we can be transported to a new planet within a two hour flight or train ride. Finally, it was a reminder of the events and feelings of our wedding weekend three years ago. 
I’ve always been keenly and precisely aware of setting, and internalize ‘place’ with every memory. Chelsay always jokes about her first time in Southlake: “...and this was our grocery store, and this was my dentist, and this was 7-11 where we got slurpees one time...”. If I can get that excited about returning to the CiCi’s Pizza from my youth, imagine arriving in the city that played host to my fondest memories.
After dropping off our bags, Chelsay and I stopped for lunch at a brasserie in Montmartre, and reminisced about every detail from our wedding weekend. About the surreal scene seeing our American friends and family outside Le Bon Georges, about Chelsay’s reveal and her timeless bridal elegance, about the ceremony in Chapelle Expiatoire, the reception in jaw-dropping Le Meurice, our first dance under the Eiffel Tower, or PIANO MAN concluding the sweat-fest on the Seine. The feelings from that weekend came right back: the planning pressure beforehand, the joy of the day, and the relaxation as we left for the Maldives. The emotions were still so vivid - it three years later, but felt like the day after... waking up with J-Lo stuck in my head.
The next few days were a trip down memory lane. Mike & Chelsay’s Parisian Greatest Hits. Track #1: the quiet backstreets of Montmartre.
This neighborhood has quickly become Chelsay’s favorite. There are a few touristy spots, but as you descend the steps behind Sacre Couer, you escape into the life of a local. Charming brasseries, colorful fruit stands, quiet green spaces, and small boulangeries up-and-down Montmartre’s leafy boulevards. Before our trip, Chelsay asked me the specific scene I was hoping for from this trip. I told her I’d imagined walking down tree-lined Rue Caulaincourt, cuddling together under an umbrella as it rained, then darting into Boris Lume, a patisserie we’d visited on our 2017 birthday trip.
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There were blue skies as we passed Sacre Couer, with gorgeous fall colors providing a photogenic setting. My umbrella-cuddling dreams weren’t to be.
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Except at that moment, heavy grey clouds rolled in and droplets began to sprinkle down.
WHAT?! This was EXACTLY what I’d described. HOW?? It was so sunny just 10 minutes earlier.
As we cuddled under the umbrella on leafy Rue Caulaincourt, we definitely acknowledged that this was my dream. We were both giddy. 
But given the circumstances, I don’t know how we didn’t freak out more. This was EXACTLY what I’d wished for. 
As the rain became harder, we escaped into Boris Lume for a sweet reprieve. Chelsay describes her lemon & basil tart as the favorite dish she ate all weekend. More broadly, this was the ideal scene I’d envisioned before our trip... and somehow it came together within an hour of arriving!
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So, how do you follow such an incredible start to our anniversary trip? How about returning the exact spot where Chelsay & I said “I do” three years earlier: Chapelle Expiatoire.
The setting was as pretty as I remembered – we were both impressed with our 28 year old selves. How did we book a place like this? 
After taking in the setting for several moments, we recreated the day: Chelsay walked down the aisle. I watched as she ascended the steps into the Chappelle. We kissed at the altar, and left our ‘ceremony’ holding hands.
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After the Chapelle, Chelsay & I had another wedding reunion planned: Le Bon Georges.  This little bistro and its owner, Benoit, played host to Chelsay & I’s Welcome Dinner. It was the most surreal moment of the entire wedding weekend: walking through winding Parisian streets to find our closest friends and family awaiting us. We hadn’t seen many of them in two years, yet there they were – surrounded by the cream colored buildings and classically grey rooftops of Montmartre.
The welcome dinner itself was just as special as the setting, and based on this trip’s meal, Benoit’s standards haven’t slipped over the years. Chelsay and I enjoyed an absurd amount of steak (had to be 20+ oz) and a rare full bottle of wine while catching up with Benoit.
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We returned to our hotel later that evening and enjoyed the romantic view, closing one of the best travel days we’ve ever had.
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Then I woke up at 5 AM… It could’ve been the wine, or more likely the 20 oz rare steak, but I felt dreadful. My stomach hurt, my head hurt. I’m not kidding when I say that had the Lil Wayne song ‘I Feel Like Dying’ stuck in my head.
I managed to fall back asleep until 7, but the pain didn’t subside. Chelsay wouldn’t wake up for a few hours, so I was on my own in this foreign land. 
I knew I had to do something or I’d risk losing the whole day. Keep in mind, this is not America: there aren’t 24 hour convenience stores where I could get a coconut water, or a McDonalds open at this time for a greasy pick-me-up. I frantically Googled: any cafes nearby? I need bread – is there a boulangerie open?
Alas, the French didn’t offer anything that fit my urgent need… but Uncle Sam did. God bless it: a Starbucks open at 7 AM, and just a 10 minute walk.
I threw on the same clothes from the night before – not even looking at a mirror – and stumbled out of the hotel and down the empty streets for my venti black coffee, a sugary smoothie, and anything with starch.
With remedies acquired, I stumbled back down the street towards the Tuileries, aiming to recluse myself in the quiet, healing gardens. Seven years ago, Chelsay was battling a similar ‘sudden’ illness – it was a simple French sandwich and the Luxembourg Gardens that revived her then. Could I replicate her improbable recovery today?  
The scene had all of the makings for a miracle: Comically large coffee. An entire baguette. Quiet setting. Crisp air. Fall leaves (not required, but a nice touch). Most important of all, my favorite chairs in the world: the Parisian “lean-back” loungers.
As the sun rose, my spirits lifted. My headache and stomach ache subsided, and I was revived. Another miracle recovery, thanks to French gardens with an assist from Uncle Sam’s conveniently open roaster. I repeated this routine the next morning (minus the illness) – the below picture captures the peaceful setting, but let’s just say I wasn’t as put-together on the first morning.
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Chelsay awoke around the time I was fully recovered. I kept trying to tell her about my morning trials, but it was impossible to convey. This is why I have the blog: so I can always remember these travel miracles.
I had a new appreciation for our saved day, and determined to take advantage, we set off for breakfast at nearby Angelina’s. Though normally too busy to find a table, Chelsay and I were easily seated and enjoyed a decadent but delicious eggs benedict. We needed a big breakfast given the day’s activities.
We set out for a long walk on our way to a neighborhood we’d never visited: Canal Saint-Martin.
The walk itself was the highlight of our day – Paris is unquestionably the prettiest city in the world, and our peaceful Sunday stroll had me considering whether we could live there. We stopped in the quiet Jardins du Palais Royal, browsed the tiny commercial alleys of Le Marais, and made stops at two of Chelsay & I’s wedding photography locations: the Louvre and nearby Pont des Arts. Based on these pictures, we were putting on our own photography clinic that day.
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Arriving in Canal Saint-Martin, the setting was certainly a different side of Paris. Though attractive in its own way, it’s much younger, and less classically Parisian.
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We weren’t in Amsterdam though, so we didn’t stay long. That said, we were there long enough to spot a dumpling house with a line around the block. Now, I know French cuisine is one of the finest in the world, and no one comes to Paris for dumplings… but this line caught our attention. We quickly Googled: ‘Gros Bao’, huh?
What we’d stumbled on was a mix between Din Tai Fung and Bone Daddies. Chelsay’s favorite savory dumplings, mixed with the unpretentious vibe of one of my favorite restaurants in London. It was a total surprise, but genuinely could have been the best meal of the trip… which says A LOT given we’d visited Le Bon Georges the night before.  
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We spent the rest of the afternoon lightly shopping and relaxing around the hotel, before heading out for our evening activity, a blend of previous Paris experiences. On every one of our Paris trips, Chelsay and I have spent at least one meal picnicking on the Eiffel Tower lawn. On most occasions, we’ll pick up a baguette, fromage, and some chacuterie from nearby Rue Cler.
On this night though, we decided on a tribute to the night after our wedding.  Rewind to 2017: we’d spent months eating responsibly, so the day after our wedding, we were craving something carby, starchy, and heavy. We found a rotisserie chicken from a nearby market, with juices dripping onto a bed of potatoes. It can only be described as dirty, but after months of ‘shedding for the wedding’, it was perfect.
Now, back to present day. After a brief stop at our final wedding photo location, we picked up another dirty rotisserie chicken and potatoes, found a quiet spot under the Eiffel Tower, and feasted like medieval kings (meaning without utensils). There will be no pictures of the banquet.
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Our last day was relatively short given our afternoon train back to London. That said, we were still able to enjoy a petit dejeuner, Chelsay got an exclusive tour of the original Goyard shop, we popped in to appreciate Monet’s Water Lillies, and returned to one of our favorite places in the world, the Luxembourg Gardens.  
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And that was our third anniversary trip. 
It was a perfect analogy to our relationship.  
Chelsay and I always talk about how ‘easy’ we have it, but when you think about it, we actually live a fairly demanding lifestyle. Three international moves in five years. 50+ trips. Challenging jobs. And of all the dogs we could chose, we landed on a border collie!
But our lifestyle together, and our ability to keep things light throughout, has prepared Chelsay and I for any small hurdles that come our way. Not even the French government quarantine threats could stop us. 
Like our annual anniversary celebrations – from Noosa, to New Zealand, and now to Paris – our relationship continues to get better every year.
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corona-de-vil · 5 years ago
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How did this happen?
How did this happen?
The article I‘m sharing below is the first post about Covid-19 that I shared on Facebook, that I can find – on Feb 6, 2020. The first cases were reported back in December 2019, in Wuhan. I’d heard about it, I’d thought about, it entered my mind a few times, but I wasn’t concerned. This was happening in Wuhan, China, thousands of miles away from Cincinnati, Ohio. Surely, we were safe. Clearly, we should have all been paying more attention. The doctor referenced in the article below, died. He died trying to treat patients from a virus that seemed like the flu - that he didn’t yet understand.
In the U.S. we were too busy holding impeachment hearings and failing to impeach our corrupt President. The world was mourning Kobe Bryant’s death. At home, my uncle and my grandma Secen had both passed away days apart. We were mourning them. I was able to see her a few hours before her death and although I’m so grateful for that, it was so sad to see her so frail and so close to death. I’ll never forget her sister-in-law coming in and overhearing my grandma whisper for her to pray with her. I think she knew then it was upon her. She lived a long and full life I know, but still, I can’t imagine lying there with a fully functioning brain knowing that your body would give out at any moment and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Life and death have always weighed so heavy upon me. I feel like I am constantly trying to sweep away thoughts of death. 2020 had already started out as a shit year. I worried about my dad losing his mom. Elizabeth Warren, the best candidate in my opinion, fell in the polls and ultimately dropped out. I was getting over that and busy being excited that Bernie Sanders was looking likely that he really could be the nominee and then, March 3rd, Super Tuesday came and went and out of nowhere, Joe Biden swept taking the delegate lead and not looking back. Not everyone cares about these things, but politics is really important to me and we need to get Trump out of office. Also the kids were sick and Jonathan and I were both sick, so we were out like an entire week as a family. It took me days to clean up all the vomit filled laundry. Isla was telling me dirty stuff was coming out of her mouth and Sophia was crying “please don’t throw up, please don’t throw up”…. Pretty much breaking my heart seeing my kids so sick.
So 2020 has been less than stellar to say the least. And now here we are, Sophie has been out of school most of March and she probably won’t ever return to preschool. She was supposed to be working on art work for her end of year art show, having a pizza party with her classmates, getting ready for a graduation ceremony. She may never see any of those kids again. She has no idea. My heart hurts. They haven’t been to gymnastics in weeks. Isla has cried several times because we can’t go to the zoo. And we have no idea when this will end. Everything is cancelled until further notice - Opening Day, all of baseball, the flying pig marathon. I have renewed anger for Trump supporters. I’ve seen so many posts over the last month about how this is blown out of proportion, that it’s a hoax, that the media is in a frenzy and scaring everyone. The sad reality is its real, and its very scary. And we lost weeks not preparing – our President couldn’t stop this virus from reaching our shores, no one could  have prevented it really, but he wasted time downplaying for weeks and were paying for it. Its global, it’s a pandemic, but he is not a leader and he caused us to fall behind the curve. There is a shortage of tests, numbers are under-reported, everything is basically shut down and we’ve been in a lockdown in Ohio for nearly 3 weeks. We’re under social distancing, stay at home orders ow until at least April 30. It’s April 1st. Thankfully Governor Dewine has been taking it seriously in Ohio. 
There are close to a million cases worldwide, with over 200k in the U.S. and nearly 40,000 people have already died. 
I’m already losing it a bit. So, here we are, making the best of it. We have our beach vacation planned the last week of May. Right now I’m crossing my fingers we don’t have to break Sophia’s heart and cancel. ☹
So I guess that kind of catches things up. I’ll add a timeline from wiki.
 Beijing (CNN)The death of a doctor widely regarded as a hero in China for blowing the whistle on the threat posed by the Wuhan coronavirus has led to a massive outpouring of grief and anger online.
Li Wenliang died of the virus in the early hours of Friday morning local time, Wuhan Central Hospital, where he worked, said in a statement. The confirmation follows a series of conflicting statements about his condition from the hospital and Chinese state media outlets.
"Our hospital's ophthalmologist Li Wenliang was unfortunately infected with coronavirus during his work in the fight against the coronavirus epidemic," the hospital said. "He died at 2:58 am on Feb 7 after attempts to resuscitate were unsuccessful."
Li was among a number of supposed "rumormongers" detained in December for spreading news about the virus. He had warned about a potential "SARS-like" virus spreading in Wuhan. Nothing Li said was incorrect, but it came as officials in the city were downplaying the severity of the outbreak and its risk to the public.
There were more apparent efforts to control the narrative even after Li's death -- leading to widespread anger.
Earlier on Thursday night, several state media outlets had reported Li's death, following which Chinese social media erupted in mourning. Hours of confusion followed, with Wuhan Central Hospital releasing a statement saying Li was still alive and in critical condition, adding that they were "making attempts to resuscitate him."
State media subsequently deleted their previous tweets, only for the hospital to then confirm his death.
Wuhan's whistleblower
Li had raised the alarm about the virus that ultimately took his life.
In December, he posted in his medical school alumni group on the Chinese messaging app WeChat that seven patients from a local seafood market had been diagnosed with a SARS-like illness and were quarantined in his hospital in Wuhan.
Soon after he posted the message, Li was accused of rumor-mongering by the Wuhan police.
He was one of several medics targeted by police for trying to blow the whistle on the deadly virus in the early weeks of the outbreak, which has sickened more than 28,000 people and killed more than 560. He later contracted the virus himself.
Li was hospitalized on January 12 and tested positive for the coronavirus on February 1.
Fury on social media
China's social media channels were awash with anger following news of Li's death.
The topics "Wuhan government owes Dr. Li Wenliang an apology," and "We want freedom of speech," soon began to trend on China's Twitter-like platform, Weibo. Each gained tens of thousands of views before disappearing from the heavily censored platform.
Another topic, called "I want freedom of speech," had drawn 1.8 million views as of 5 a.m. Friday morning local time (4 p.m. ET Thursday).
Top comments under the Wuhan Central Hospital's statement about Li's death included "I've learned two words: political rescue & performative rescue" and "Countless young people will mature overnight after today: the world is not as beautiful as we imagined. Are you angry? If any of us here is fortunate enough to speak up for the public in the future, please make sure you remember tonight's anger."
Several comments also marked the timing of the announcement. "I knew you would post this in the middle of the night," wrote one Weibo user.
"You think we've all gone to sleep? No. We haven't," said another.
Confusion over his condition
The Global Times first announced Li had died in a tweet at around 10:40 p.m. local time Thursday, linking to a report that cited friends and doctors at Wuhan Central Hospital.
It deleted the post several hours later. Other Chinese media outlets also deleted their reports of his death, without explanation. The World Health Organization released a message of condolence following the initial reports that Li was dead but later updated their statement to say they did not have any information about the doctor's status.
Wuhan Central Hospital issued a new statement confirming his death later that day.
The death toll and number of people infected by the Wuhan coronavirus continues to grow, with no signs of slowing despite severe quarantine and population control methods put in place in central China.
The number of confirmed cases globally stood at 28,275 as of Thursday, with more than 28,000 of those in China. The number of cases in China grew by 3,694, or 15%, on the previous day. There have been 565 deaths so far, all but two of which were in China, with one in the Philippines and one in Hong Kong.
CNN's Amy Woodyatt contributed to this story.
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w0nderfulworld · 4 years ago
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I’m not sure what to even write, I haven’t had a diary or anything similar since 7th grade but I’ll just start my first journal-like post by going through my day and recounting how I felt, sooo here goes:
First thing I saw this morning when I checked my phone was a bunch of messages from this guy on Hinge, who was drunk texting me through the app at 4 am asking me to come see him. If it were any random guy I’d feel weird, but this was someone who I’d hooked up with almost two years ago so I wasn’t completely taken aback by his messages. I responded this morning but I’m not sure if I’m interested in anything with him, so when he messaged me when he woke up I kinda just let it sit all day until 5 mins ago when I realized it’s been 12 hours since I last said anything. I think my heart’s in another place still (can write about that in my next post!! new material lol how exciting)
Got out of bed, had some protein pancakes for breakfast, was still hungry so I had a protein bar, then read Little Fires Everywhere while I waited for my parents to get back before my brother and I headed out for the grocery store. I really wanted to go as soon as I woke up, but he’s currently studying for the GMAT, and anytime our parents leave the house he makes sure he dedicates that time to studying. It’s a lot harder to focus on the weekends when we’re all home and hanging around the house since we’re all very (very) loud people. Throughout the week it’s not so bad since I’m in my room working, my brother and mom are in their rooms, and my dad’s at his desk downstairs, but I can see when we’re all just doing our thing on the weekends how he could get distracted easily. So in order to give him more study time, we waited until our parents got home and then we were off to Trader Joe’s.
I don’t know if it’s because I went there twice a week for groceries pre-pandemic and I just feel so at home, or if there’s an inherent sense of comfort for anyone who walks into the store, but Trader Joe’s just feels like a little escape for me, even if my anxiety is high because of the combo of people + small aisles, aka not a lot of wiggle room to stay 6 ft apart from other customers (especially in the frozen section!!!! move soon please I need my cauliflower gnocchi!!!!). 
We have this whole system of grocery shopping ever since quarantine started, where we’ll bring in the bags and leave them on the kitchen floor, and then one person will grab each grocery item and wash it with soap and water before another person dries it and puts it in it’s appropriate spot. We know there’s research to support that getting covid from groceries is super unlikely, but we started this routine before we had read that and it feels silly to stop now when it allows us a certain peace of mind. I don’t mind the washing either (I’m usually the one who does it), as I find it quite peaceful, especially if it’s just me and my brother in the kitchen and I can turn on the radio and listen to music while he and I talk about the latest drama with RuPaul’s drag race. After we finished washing/drying, I cut up a cucumber and opened a bag of baby carrots, and we sat at the table for a bit snacking on our veggies with some tzatziki we just bought. 
I’m going to the beach in a couple of weeks, and I realized that I don’t have a cooler, so I thought about buying one and painting it. I’ve painted coolers for people before, four total, but I’ve never made one for myself. I spent some time on here and on pinterest choosing designs for each side, I’m going for a 70s kinda vibe and I’m really excited to start working on it :)
I worked out for about an hour and a half (currently on a weight loss journey - have 20 lbs and would like to lose 25 more to be at the ideal BMI, would honestly be ok with losing just 15 more but idk we’ll see) and then had some frozen Indian food from Trader Joe’s for dinner, along with some frozen peaches (also from TJ’s) warmed up and topped with a bit of plain greek yogurt and cinnamon. Normally I wouldn’t eat Indian food from TJ’s; at the beginning of my ~ journey ~ i thought they were relatively okay options but the more I learned about calorie deficits, macros, etc, I cut them out of my diet completely. Before I would have palak paneer or chicken tikka masala once in a blue moon, but until tonight, I hadn’t had an Indian dish from TJ’s for 4ish months. However, at this point I find myself stuck in a restrict-binge cycle, and I’m trying to break free from that by listening to my body and allowing myself to eat what I want, given that I’m still in a moderate calorie deficit. Sometimes a bitch just wants a bowl of cereal!!! Who cares if its full of carbs and no protein just gimme!!!
Showered after eating dinner (usually I shower right after exercising but tonight I just didn’t feel like waiting to eat), did my skincare routine, and now here I am! This was a lot longer than I expected but also a ton of fun to do, even if no one reads this (like i’m fully expecting lmao) this made me happy and thats what we’re all here for am i right?? so goodnight tumblr talk to u tm!!
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butterflydemoiselle · 4 years ago
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Dear Papa God,
I’m tired. I’m angry. I’m worried.  I’m lonely.
I’m filled with negativity at this very moment.
Di ko lang alam baka piniPMS lang talaga ako or dahil kulang ako sa tulog. Or dahil ilang days rin ako nakapagskip nung daily moments ko with You.
Let me rundown my recent struggles:
1. I am still struggling in adjusting my body clock. Well, kakastart ko pa lang naman nung Monday so it’s expected. Pero ang sakit na sa ulo. I feel drained and groggy.
2. Siguro as a result, I feel irritable. We have a new pet, a cat. Hindi talaga ako cat person pero anjan na siya eh. Pero mas nagulo yung bahay namin. Si Toast (yung aso namin) ang ingay kasi gusto niya makipaglaro kay Shadow (name ng cat). May times na i’m trying to sleep pero ang gulo-gulo nila kaya hayst, wala rin. Either di na ako makatulog or ang babaw ng tulog ko.
3. Another result of my lack of sleep is hindi ko maorganize yung sched ko for the day. Ayun, nakakaMissout na naman ako ng Pru Activities ko. And my inactivity backfired kasi nakita ko na invite ng AUM ko 2 sa mga potential clients ko. Yes, my initial reaction was nainis ako sa AUM ko kasi diba, how dare she? Clients ko yun eh. Pero when I calmed down, narealize ko na what I felt was envy because she gained out of my inactivity and it’s really my fault for not being visible to them after my initial approach. Hindi man pati alam ng AUM ko na inapproach ko na sila before. And it’s the Client’s decision kung sino ang pagkakatiwalaan nila. It was an eye-opener for me.
4. At dahil don, napressure na ako. Shucks. Kalahati na ng buwan. Wala pa ako nakoClose na sale. Although may mga naitanim naman na ako, kulang pa yon to achieve my committed sales. Nagwoworry ako na baka hindi ko talaga mameet. Eh gustong-gusto ko na magTop Rookie ulit ako saka Top Case Counter for this month at mahit ko na yung quarterly incentive. I want it so bad for the very reason na nasa next item.
5. Nainis ako kanina sa Daddy ko. Kahapon, naghingi siya ng pera kasi wala na daw siya panggastos. Tapos kanina, hindi man diretchahan pero may sinend siya na amount to pay don sa tito kong Lawyer. And because of that, I was reminded of the financial problem we have - na ang dami pa naming outstanding na utang, na yung parents ko are facing a civil case kasi hindi na nga kami makapagbayad. And I’m at a loss of what to do kasi ang unfair rin kay daddy na siya lang yung naiStress at humaharap sa mga consequences when hindi naman siya talaga yung may sala (well dun sa mga creditors but of course he also has his part of the blame why this happened to our family), while my mom is in hiding and so far doing okay. Perhaps she has her own battles pero should I tell her about the case? I’m worried because if she comes out of her hiding baka mas maraming tao ang maghabol and we might face a much bigger problem that needed an immediate solution at hindi kami prepared lahat. Baka gumulo na naman yung buhay namin kaya I want to hold on to this peace even if it’s just fleeting. Yes, it may seem like we’re running but it’s because we don’t have the means to face it now. We just need time. Eventually, aayusin naman namin. Di lang talaga ngayon.
And that’s why I want so bad to succeed in Pru kasi don ko nakikita yung hope na makapag-earn ng malaki to settle all of our debts and for myself as well, na matupad yung mga pangarap ko.
6. I feel lonely. Last week, I tried (finally, again) to use dating apps. Before nagTinder ako pero wala naman akong napala. So ngayong FB dating naman. So far, may mga nakakausap ako. Okay naman. But I can’t help thinking that maybe one of these men would become my boyfriend. And when it crosses my mind, I cringe. Because I can’t imagine myself being with them, I can’t imagine myself being with someone else. Because my heart is still with HIM. I don’t know, maybe, I just got used to him. 7 years - kahit on and off pa yan - is not easy to forget. I am fully aware of the reasons why I should not be with him pero hindi ba talaga pwedeng siya na lang? Ako na lang ulit para kanya. Kami na lang ulit.
This quarantine, akala ko we’re getting there na ulit. Ano ba kasing nangyari? I thought setting boundaries would make him to pursue me more. Yun lang naman yung gusto ko, na effortan niya ako. Pero bakit nagFall out na naman kami? Hindi ba talaga ako ganun kahalaga para sa kanya? That he can easily toss me aside?
Papa God, You know very well my thoughts, my desires, my feelings - more even than myself. Alam ko nagkukulang ako sayo lately kaya siguro naeexperience ko tong mga bagay na to. Papa God, help me. Take away these negativities. Take away what’s bad for me. Help me Papa God to trust You more especially during these times I’m losing hope. Help me truly understand that You love me and that You are enough. Help me surrender everything to You. I can’t do this alone. I need You. Send your Spirit to guide me to Your will. 
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