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avian-writes · 4 years

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The day we decided to live

The Days: Part 1

Content Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide

words: 3039

In hindsight, when we had to park the car on a dirt road with only a government power strip on it and cross the barren back road to reach the GPS location, we should’ve known it was a bad idea. But it wasn’t like we were worried for our lives. We never have been.

It had been a long day: my car broke down after a 10 hour shift and my best friend, Darian, had to come pick me up. Neither of us could figure out what was wrong with it so I called a roadside mechanic who said he could come out and check it out the following day. Tired, we got food and went to my apartment to hang out. We hadn’t done that in weeks, we didn’t have the time or energy. What time we didn’t spend working was spent in bed, not wanting to get up to see the other.

It was during this that Darian asked, “Hey Jake, attractor, void, or anomaly?”

“...What?”

He turned his phone towards me and showed me a screen asking the same thing. “It’s Randonautica.”

“It’s what now?”

“You haven’t heard of it? It’s been all over the internet, mostly Tik Tok.”

I shook my head. I hadn’t been paying much attention to anything lately. “What is it?”

He explained it was an app that gave you a random location and you just...went there. He almost mentioned something about manifestation but I had already agreed and was taking his phone out of his hand. I needed something to do and distract myself that wasn’t my own anxiety biting at me.

Most of the screen was taken up by a GPS map with a radius of 2km. At the bottom were the choices of Attractor, Power, and Void. I hit Void then ‘generate’.

The screen turned black and white text appeared. ‘What would you like to find?’

“Something interesting.” Something that made moving worth it. Something that made life worth living.

‘Imagine it. Manifest it.’

Because we were good young adults, we did as we were told and closed our eyes, trying to manifest a reason to live. Not like we didn’t spend every day doing that already. When we opened them, an owl took up the screen telling us to prepare and I didn’t even get the chance to move when the map came back up.

‘Generated point; Void Anomaly’

Under it was an address I didn’t recognize. Zooming in on the map I could see the point was in the middle of woods. “Is that private property?” Darian asked, squinting.

“Sure is! You ready?”

I grabbed my Emergency Drive bag, a bag containing my portable charger, an extra cord, granola bars, chapstick, a notebook and pen, and a water bottle. It was solely for the purpose of when things got bad in my head and I just needed to get in my car and drive. I used it more often these days.

Less than twenty minutes later, we’re both standing on the side of the road across from the point. Darian had to park on a dirt road a ways off, parking on the side in our city would’ve been a horrible idea, and we walked over. We waited for the road to be clear and darted across.

On the other side, there was a ditch directly off the pavement filled with lumps of dirt similar to snake pouches all along it. It was the only way to the woods with a treeless stretch of tall grass. We both stood at the top of the drop off, staring down into the thorns and possible snake pits.

“Maybe we’ll find a dead body,” I said, referencing one of the stories I had read on the way there. With my phone plugged into Darian’s car charger of course. No way was I going into this with it even on 99%.

“Hopefully it’ll be one of our own.”

I didn’t comment. Especially when I agreed with him.

A sewer pipe went right underneath the road, leading into the overgrown bank. The grass went up to our knees and it wasn’t until we were already in that we noticed the briars growing along ankle-height.

“Welp, here we go!” I said with only a slight tint of enthusiasm. I started through the briar patch and Darian reluctantly followed me. Since we had come right from my apartment and neither of us were known for thinking things through, we weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion.

I had on short shorts and Darian had short pants as well as sandals; at least I had on tennis shoes. As we walked, I could feel every little cut on my legs as the briars dug into my skin and scratched along until I was past. Long cuts of red were scattered on both of our legs.

Finally, we got through and we were on the edge of the woods. Darian pulled up the GPS and handed it to me since I could read a map better than him. I turned it so it matched where we were facing and held it parallel to the ground. “Look, see! It’s the middle of this pathway where there aren’t trees.”

“Unless we want to deal with more briars, we’re not going straight there.” Darian pointed ahead of us and sure enough, grass taller than even him along with even more briars grew everywhere in the stretch. The woods it was.

I took the lead and we headed into the woods. It was only short in width as it bordered a farm; it was the woods on the other side of the stretch that was formidable. It went on for miles according to the GPS map and neither of us were good with directions when everything looked the same and we couldn’t see the sun.

All throughout the small journey to our destination, I laughed as Darian stumbled his way over fallen logs and small creeks of water going criss cross all along the dirt floor. He nearly tripped right into a tree and I caught his arm.

“Didn’t you say you grew up on a farm in a rural area? Did you never go exploring in the woods?” The thought baffled me, someone who had spent 85% of his childhood and high school years in the woods, playing pretend and just going on forever until the darkness pushed me back home.

Darian shook his head. “Our woods weren’t really woods like this. I never went in them much anyway.”

“What did you spend your time doing?”

He smiled at me, a real genuine smile I hadn’t seen in months. “Playing video games.”

It was a sweet bonding moment that got ruined real soon. I spotted something dark through the soft, brightly lit grass and leaped out into the strip. I darted over and stumbled back just as fast.

Darian followed me and lurched back. An animal carcass was strewn across the only patch of short grass, torn apart and unrecognizable. Hundreds, maybe thousands of flies swarmed the area and we both took heavy steps away.

Flies. Hundreds of little flies. I batted at them, but I could feel little flicks all over me as they flocked to me and Darian. I pressed my lips together in an effort to keep them from getting in my mouth. Waving my hands around in a feeble attempt to get them away from me, I accidentally smacked Darian right in the shoulder.

“Feck, sorry dude.”

He didn’t answer me. I blinked through the swarm and if I had eaten that day, it would’ve come right back up. The dead deer was laying in the small patch of short grass, right in between us and the rest of the easy way through the stretch.

I’m from the mountains, my family is a combination of hillbillies and rednecks, and I had a vulture as a best friend back home. Dead animals were a common occurrence as well as roadkill being the main feature of dinners at family reunions.

But this was much worse than simple roadkill. This was a mutilation. An attack on the poor thing. It’s entire body was torn open, entrails and organs spilling out into the blood-caked grass. Bones were almost licked clean and we could see the skull through a hole in the neck.

I felt Sick. I backed away and ran back to the woods, Darian right on my heels. As soon as we entered the dark, shady, and death-free safety of the trees, I keeled over and crouched in the dirt. Burying my head into my arms and trying to take deep breaths. Beside me, I could feel Darian doing the same.

A pricking at the back of my head nudged at me and I violently shook it away. A pleasant but jealous feeling that I didn’t feel like psychoanalyzing. “Alright, that’s enough for today. Want to go to another location?”

Darian shook his head and pointed at his phone screen. “We’re not too far from the coords. Might as well go all the way and make this worth it.” He pointedly didn’t look at the corpse when speaking.

I thought about it for only a moment before shrugging and nodding my head. We continued on through the woods and kept going around the strip. In complete silence, we followed his offline GPS until we were directly across from the bright red point.

We looked at each other then stepped out of the woods and crossed the barrier further into our nightmare. Not even 10 footsteps away was stomped grass that led back into the woods. This was where the point was supposed to be. Broken glass littered the ground, quite literally; it looked like someone had littered.

“It’s probably nothing, Jake. Someone else must have gotten these coordinates too.”

“Aren’t they randomly generated?”

“We’re not that far from the farm. Probably one of their kids hiding their drinking from overbearing parents.” But even he didn’t sound convinced. I didn’t know why, but something about the area didn’t seem right. Maybe I just wanted to believe that since it was a new place and something was odd about it. I bet if someone came into my backyard, they’d feel something was off too, but it would just be the overturned lawn chairs we hadn’t bothered to pick up after the last storm.

I bent down and carefully picked up a piece of glass, holding it up to eyelevel to inspect it. It was thin and after looking closely, was curved just a bit. My stomach dropped and I looked around, spotting a broken piece of long, slender plastic.

“This wasn’t a beer bottle. It was glasses. Like, eyeglasses.” I looked up at Darian through my own glasses and he blinked at me through his. This had gotten too creepy and it seemed he agreed with me as we both started lightly sprinting for the woods.

As we ran, something hit me. Nothing physical, nothing stopped me from running. But something for sure hit my chest. I stopped of my own accord and turned back towards the strip and started walking. Why?

Good question. Wish I had an answer for you.

Behind me, I could vaguely hear Darian asking what the feck I was doing but I just kept walking. Just like when I drive down random roads at night with no real direction, when I go on walks through town and take random turns, it was like something was telling me to go that way. That I needed to see what was there.

As I broke through the clearing, I regretted it immediately. A circle of mowed grass amongst the overgrowing field of weeds wasn’t what we were expecting to find but alright. Just to add to the weirdness factor.

“What the fuck is going on, Jake?” Darian’s voice sounded ten miles away and right at my ear, still incredibly tired.

All I could do was shake my head, an overcoming sense of dread took me over and I turned and booked it. Praying Darian was behind me, I skipped along back into the woods and looked all around me. There was still plenty of daylight, I knew this. My phone said 3:46 pm with no reception. But the sky was growing darker already. Not even in the Winter did it get night this quickly.

I started running and dodging trees, reaching out my hands to feel for bark and shoving myself out of their way. My foot caught on a log and I went face first onto the ground. The warm, soft ground.

All at once, my body relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. I rolled onto my back and took in a deep, deep breath. I almost didn’t need it; I couldn’t breathe but also could breathe finally. Nothing held it back, nothing weighing on my heart to keep it from beating at a steady, normal pace.

The overbearing, sinking feeling over took my chest; begging to drag me down into the depths of the woods. The trees closed in over head and the sun was successfully blocked out. No light streamed in, the only source being from the far off tower strip.

I tried to move but couldn’t. I raised my arm and it just dropped back to my side, it was af it was light as a feather, with hollow bones, and filled with lead at the same time. I let my head hit the dirt as I leaned back as all my motivation to stay up left me.

But it wasn’t scary. Only…strangely comforting. It didn’t feel like it wanted to harm me, simply take away any preexisting pain. Take away everything until nothing was left, including the sadness. Dull all my senses. Block out the noises. Silence the humming noise and voices.

I could just not move. Let it consume me, take my spirit and mind away. It would be so easy…

“JAKE!”

Darian’s voice cut through every thought I had. Any resolve I had to let whatever it was take me broke away. My best friend needed me, and as much as I wanted to die, he needed me to live even more.

I scrambled to my heavy feet and took off into the strip. I dashed through the grass, ignoring the broken glass, leapt over the decaying deer, waved off the flies, and ran until my legs ached and my chest was burning.

“JAKE!”

The grass cut at my legs and arms, sharp searing pain akin to getting sliced with a knife covered me from head to toe but it was miniscule compared to the building anxiety rising in my tightened chest.

I broke into the circle and there Darian was. Just laying there, staring up at the open blue sky. His arms and legs outstretched as if he was just sunbathing on a lovely day. But the fear striking his face and pulsing veins streaming from his clenched fists and neck told me otherwise.

I fell to my knees next to him and yanked an arm around my shoulders. Darian had a good five inches and 70 pounds on me, but the shallow breathing and returning clawing feeling in my brain gave me just enough strength to lift my best friend up to get the feck out of there.

We finally made it past the deer and Darian suddenly slipped away from me. I started to panic until he grabbed my hand and we both took off. We ran in the slim space between the woods and strip, leaping over logs and doing our best to avoid briars.

It was the most terrifying time of both of our lives. Especially with the feeling now rising out of the ground to pull at my ankles, trying desperately to drag me back down. I ignored it the best I could until I couldn’t.

I briefly stopped, yanking Darian to a stop, and stomped on the nearest stick. It broke right in half and the feeling vanished with a cold, fleeting pass. I slipped my hand around Darian’s wrist and dragged him through the strip.

Then we heard the sweetest sound, calming music to our ears: cars. Driving past at fast, back road “no cops around, speeds. We ran faster and the road finally came into view. We only slowed down enough to step on the rocks and climb up and over the sewer pipe. Darian pulled me up and we took one step onto the road.

“Well, we did find a dead body.”

“Shut up.”

Probably dangerous to stand on a road at night, but nothing could’ve felt more dangerous to us than those woods. The pavement felt like heaven to us at that moment. We caught our breath and walked across the road in silence. Back to the car, got in, and just sat there.

Darian started the car and switched on the headlights. The two of us stared into the dimly lit dirt road ahead of us, neither of us wanting to speak. If we did, then that made it real. What we experienced had been real and we had really almost let ourselves be left behind.

We had almost died. We didn’t know what about what we felt led us to believe death was the end goal, but neither of us doubt we would’ve died if we hadn’t just gotten up and left. No matter how hard it was to do so.

Something we had both wanted for so long. But given the chance, we didn’t let go. It didn’t feel like the other attempts, to me anyway. I had been in control then.

“You good?” I managed to croak out.

Darian huffed out a weak laugh. “Not in the least bit. You?”

“I’m never going into the woods again.”

Eventually, he put the car into drive and we left. Back to my apartment. I had work early in the morning, but we didn’t want to be alone that night. So we slept on my floor where I held tight onto his jacket sleeve until the sun rose. Neither of us brought up him choosing to call for help nor me answering that call.

#wip #writeblr #depression #the days #mentions of suicide #the day we decided to live #part one #wtwcommunity

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neechees · 4 years

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i know you get this question a lot, but im curious. i want to live off of the land, not because its "self sustaining" or whatever, but because i want to provide food for affordable or even for free to those in my community. im a descendant of irish immigrants. its not my place to settle on the land i live in, but i dont know how i can achieve that dream of being able to provide for my community. and i dont know if i lived in ireland if it would be okay since i feel like thats not my land either+

rural life is hard, i know this. im poor, and a lot of my relatives live in rural areas. but im also disabled and working regular jobs is hard. yet hauling stuff and tending to animals and working with my hands makes it easier? its more fulfilling. idk why. but i dont know if id be at home in ireland, since im part of the irish diaspora and ive been disconnected from my culture for generations. but i want to produce and give and support those around me and nothing is better than food yknow?

I feel like at this point people think I’m the royal ambassador of cottagecore and are asking for “permission” to somehow enjoy CC easily and without any consequences to anybody (which is well intentioned but.) and if I say yes then that means it’s okay, so people keep asking hyper-specific questions to find out what falls under when it’s acceptable to do this as per given permission by me, the grand ambassador pîkohkasam-Kapesiwkamkoskwew (”she burns cottages woman”) le cottage burner. If she says yes she will not decide to scalp you and burn your cottage to the ground.

But jokes aside I don’t even know how to answer these. Part of the main point of my posts about CC was to get people to RETHINK their fantasies, check their privilege, do their own research regarding the environment as well as the Native people and figure out ways they can help, support, and coexist with Native people & our OWN desires on and for OUR OWN LAND. Like in a way I appreciate the intent behind these questions because it lets me know that people are trying to AVOID causing harm & are genuinely trying to make an effort, but at the same time I literally don’t know everything (ESPECIALLY not in every given context, including yours, depending on where you are and where native people are situated, their own plans, etc), I’m just some rando on the internet and I can’t be doing the work for you. That’s why I encourage self-education and self-research, it depends on where you are, the native people there, etc. It literally depends.

So like my advice is to do your own research. If you really want to do something like this without hurting Native people, doing research on the Native people whose land you’re on, any treaties in that area (and this is especially relevant in Canada) or if they WANT to have treaties, any possible land issues, conflicts, or plans they’ve had or are having/doing (ex: pipelines, land claims, potential sacred areas you might be disturbing, revitalization areas, possible land development, bison ranches, etc) and see how you can work around/with that and WITH Native people. Even just straight up asking the Native people in that area could get you a more straight answer than this. But again, I feel like regardless of whether or not people plan to move places etc they should be doing this ANYWAY. And like, say you do get your self sustaining community. What are you doing to help any Native people? Are you also feeding them? Do you have an agreement of some kind? Are you certain the land you’re working can sustain everyone? What are you doing to help the land there? Being considerate like that & reconsidering agriculture etc in the context of also considering Native people and our sovereignty was the point of my posts. It's not that I dont think your cause isn't good or i think you're being malicious, but I just can't give you direct, tangible directions on what to you because if you carried this out it depends on a lot of things that I can't speak for definitely.

#I can't really give you any concrete advice besides what I've been saying in general #because. it depends. on where you are #and the Native people THERE #that's why you need research this yourself #i literally can't give you a concrete yes or no answer or even any advice #Anonymous

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theangriestpea · 4 years

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Road Bumps | Sweet Pea

Summary: After finding out that his girlfriend is pregnant, Sweet Pea decides to take her away from the dangers of Riverdale for a little while. Missing scene to where Sweet Pea was during the end of season 3 and beginning of season 4 <ao3>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Rating: Teen+

Word Count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Teen pregnancy

A/N: This was requested by the amazing @sweetsfuckingpea! I hope you enjoy it, mom! When trying to think of motivation for Sweet Pea to leave Riverdale, pregnancy was the only thing I could come up with??? Probably because I currently have baby fever. x.x And I mean....who wouldn’t want babies that looked like Jordan Connor?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for the millionth time as you sat across from Sweet Pea at a small dinner in a rural part of Pennsylvania. “With all that’s going on in Riverdale-”

“That’s exactly why we needed to leave.” He said seriously. “There’s too much drama there right now. We need to get away for awhile. Especially with the condition you’re in. I’m not risking your lives by staying in a town infested with mysterious seizures and drugged up rival gangsters.”

You let out a sigh, picking at your basket of fries. You hadn’t had much appetite the past couple of weeks. “My condition is exactly why we shouldn’t be travelling the countryside right now. We should be saving money! I told you I could have just taken out a loan and gotten it taken care of…”

Sweet Pea reached out, putting a steady hand on top of your shaking one. “Y/N, I know this is hard but we agreed not to do that. If you’ve changed your mind then I’ll support you, but I don’t want you to do it unless you’re absolutely sure.”

You withdrew your hand from his and hid it on your lap. “I don’t know what I want. It all just happened so fast. I haven’t had time to process anything.”

He sighed, wishing you would stop pulling away from him constantly. He went back to eating his food slowly. “Coming out here will give you time to think about it. Plus you told me countless times how you always wanted to road trip coast to coast. This might be your last chance for a while.”

A small smile formed on your lips, “you’re right, thank you, babe.” You leaned in for a quick kiss before going back to eating.

A week prior Sweet Pea had insisted that the two of you go on a road trip. Even though it was towards the end of Junior year, he said it wouldn’t matter since most of the time neither of you went to school anyway. You could always retake it the following year which didn’t seem so bad right now.

After many nights of not-so-careful screwing, you had wound up pregnant with only one possibility for the father. Sweet Pea was taking it amazingly well. You had expected him to punch a wall or make you leave or demand you get an abortion, but he did none of those things. Instead he sat in stunned silence for what felt like hours.

Eventually, when he did speak, he asked what you wanted to do. You didn’t know as you were still wrapping your head around the whole thing. You had suffered from a bad seizure months before and there was still no real explanation as to what caused it. Plus with increasing tensions mounting between the serpents and the gargoyles, Sweet Pea felt that Riverdale was no longer a safe place for you. Either of you. He wanted nothing more to protect you until you came to a decision.

You kept in contact with your friends back home as little as possible. It was too soon to tell them what was going on. Rumors flew by so quickly in the small town that you didn’t want to be known as the highschooler that got knocked up by a serpent. There were worse things to be said about you, sure, but it was still a sensitive subject. You weren’t even showing yet but who knew how long that would last.

“How does this spot look, princess?” Sweet Pea asked as he walked around a clearing in the small wooded area you had parked near. You had been camping out most nights, enjoying the sounds of nature with nothing to keep you warm but your boyfriend and your shared sleeping bag. It was nice, peaceful, and much less stressful than home.

You looked around, “are you sure there’s no bears around here? You know Archie got attacked by one once. He almost died.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “I’ve got my 12 gauge if there is one, come on, is this the place for tonight or what?”

Your eyes met his and you smiled lightly, “Sure. The ground is even at least and there’s that stream nearby.”

He came up to you and pulled you into a tight embrace, his head resting on top of yours. “Ready to get started or do you need to rest?”

You pushed him away gently, rolling your eyes. “I’m pregnant, Sweets, not disabled. Let’s go ahead and get started.”

That night, after everything was set, Sweet Pea had scoped out a local bar to go to. Naturally he had his leather serpent jacket on while you went with something a bit more classic. Skinny jeans and a low cut t-shirt. Nothing too risque as you didn’t pack anything too revealing to wear. It’s not like you had planned on going bar hopping any time soon since you couldn’t drink.

But currently you were in a food desert and really the only place to grab a bite was the bar about twenty minutes away from your campsite. It was remote enough that neither of you thought anyone would mess with your tent, deciding to keep a majority of your possessions locked in the saddle bags of his motorcycle.

You arrived at the bar, noticing the plethora of bikes parked out front. Naturally your anxiety started to rise. If they saw Sweet Pea as some kind of rival then things could get ugly. “Maybe you should take your jacket off.” You murmured to him, already seeing a few passing by bikers give him a tentative look over.

“A serpent never sheds his skin.” Sweet Pea said faithfully, “It’ll be fine, baby girl. No one is going to mess with us.” He got off of his bike and put an arm around you, leading you inside the small bar. “Just worry about whether or not the food here is any good.” He joked.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him while you walked. He led you to a back corner and placed you at a booth there. “Stay here, I’m going to get some menus, okay? Stop looking at me like that, nothing is going to happen.” He said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze in an attempt to reassure you before he left to go to the bar.

He disappeared behind a sea of bodies, while the bar wasn’t super crowded, the dim lighting made it hard to see far away. You huffed and pulled out your phone, trying to quell your anxiety by mindlessly scrolling through social media. He had wanted to hustle some pool as well to get you both some extra cash.

Someone sat down next to you, “Back already?” You asked, eyes not looking up from the screen.

“No, sweet thing, I’m just arriving.” A voice said smoothly. Your head shot up to see a somewhat thin biker sitting next to you. You immediately moved as far away from his as possible, which wasn’t much in the small booth.

“My boyfriend is coming back, you should leave.” You said, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“That kid wearing the snake? No, you look like you could use a real man.” He said, breath reeking of cheap beer and tooth decay. It nearly made you gag.

“I’m seventeen.” You replied, hoping the fact that you were underage would get him to go away. Unfortunately it only seemed to make him more interested.

He smirked, “Good, I like ‘em young.”

A scared look crossed your face, your heart sinking deep down into your chest until you saw a hand with a tattooed thumb grab the intruder by the shoulder. “I don’t believe the teenager is interested in your pathetic ass.” Sweet Pea seethed, ripping the man out from behind the table. He stumbled forward, catching himself before straightening up.

“Southside Serpent, huh? More like Southside Street Rat.” The man said, looking up at Sweet Pea. His inhibition from the alcohol made the much taller boy’s large frame unfrightening.

Sweet Pea quickly grabbed the man by the collar of his old t-shirt, yanking him up onto his toes. “Want to say that again?” He asked, voice low and even but nevertheless filled the rage. “Or do you want to hit on my girl some more?”

“Fuck off man, this is my territory. Not yours.” He said, eyeing the guys around him.

Sweet Pea looked at the men coming towards him, “You guys really want to defend a pedophile? Be my guest, I’ll take you all on.”

“Sweet Pea…” You mumbled, trying to get him to calm down and not make the situation worse. Especially since he was alone in a sea of bikers.

He glanced at you and you could tell he couldn’t really see you through his anger. When he saw red it was literally all he saw.

“Put him down, kid.” A much older, bearded man said as he parted the crowd. The man looked down at you, “was he bothering you, miss?”

“Y-yes.” You stammered, terrified of what may happen. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach and it did not go unnoticed by the newcomer.

“And you’re a minor?” He probed and you could only nod your head in response, your voice no longer worker. The man turned to Sweet Pea, “then I’ll deal with him. We don’t take kindly to our guys trying to mess around with teenagers.”

Sweet Pea stared at the old biker, contemplating whether or not he should comply. He let out a large breath out of his nose as he set the offender down. Multiple guys grabbed him before he could make a break for it. They pulled him away and back through a back door.

“Sorry about him, son. I have suspected his...tendencies for a while now but had no proof. Sit down, you and your bird’s food is on the house.” He patted Sweet Pea’s shoulder before signalling for the crowd to disperse.

You felt like you were going to faint as Sweet Pea sat down next to you. “You are one lucky son of a bitch,” You croaked to him as you tried to regulate your breathing.

Sweet Pea was still very much upset, now unable to take his feelings out on anyone. “You okay?” He said, his voice not matching the words. They sounded much too rough.

You put a gentle hand on his bicep, trailing it downward in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m fine, you got here right in time. My hero.” The last part was a joke in an attempt to make him smile. It didn’t work until you gave him a light peck on the cheek. “I’ll have to make it up to you tonight.” You whispered into his ear, knowing the thought of a reward later would make him cool down.

His cracked smile grew and he put an arm around your shoulders. “Oh yeah? You owe me big time.” He teased, hand dipping down to brush against your side. “I got us free food.”

“Pretty sure, I got us free food. But okay, you win.” You said with a light giggle, kissing him once more.

“I love you.” He said, seeming out of nowhere. You looked up to see his eyes burning with emotion that you didn’t quite recognize. “I never loved anyone the way I love you.”

A blush spread hot across your face. “Not even Josie?” The question came out in a mumble. You had always been a bit insecure when it came to his feelings for her. After all, he was still getting over her when you two decided to start hooking up. It had been difficult at first because he was obviously still in pain over the rejection, but eventually he moved on when you showed him that you were more than happy to be his full-time girl.

Sweet Pea pressed a light kiss to your forehead, “not even Josie.” He added softly, knowing how much of a sore spot it was for you. “That was just a dumb crush. You’re...different. You always have been but I just ignored it, not thinking you felt that way.”

You buried your head into his shoulder, clearly embarrassed. “You’re an idiot. I’ve loved you since Freshman year.”

“What? Really?” He asked, clearly surprised as he tried to pull you away from him but you had latched onto him much too tightly. He wanted nothing more than to look into your eyes and see that what you were saying was the truth.

“Oh yeah, I fell pretty hard after you beat up the Ghoulies that were trying to jump me.” You said softly into his jacket, enjoy the smell of him and the leather mixing.

Sweet Pea couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. There was no way you could have taken on all five Ghoulies that had cornered you but you looked like you were bound to try with a heavy textbook in your hand as a makeshift weapon. “You were so cute. Looking like a bunny trying to fight off some strung out wolves.”

“Idiot.” Was all you could say, trying to mask how mortified you felt knowing that you didn’t look intimating in the slightest. “You came in swinging like a giraffe out of hell. Ready to kick ass and take names for seconds.”

He rested his head on top of yours, his grip on you tightening as his body trembled with silent laughter. “Yeah, had to defend that cute little bun. She was way too innocent to let her get devoured by some mangy mutts.”

“So you wanted to devour me instead?” You asked jokingly and he only laughed more.

“You got me.” He murmured softly into your hair and you swear you had never felt more at peace in your entire life then you did in that very moment.

Over the course of the next few months, Sweet Pea took you all the way to the west coast. You stopped at kitschy little tourist traps and adorable mom and pop places. He hustled pool, darts, really any bar game he was good at just to get you some spending money. Eventually you started to forget about Riverdale entirely. In fact, it had been weeks since the town even crossed your mind.

Until you got a phone call from Toni. You had just arrived in the outskirts of western Indiana when you decided to answer. It was the fifth time she had called you that day, and you knew that it had to have been important. Sweet Pea’s phone was turned off for this very reason, he didn’t want anyone bothering him.

What she had to say left you feeling cold. Jughead Jones was dead and they could just make it to his funeral if they started driving tonight. Sweet Pea said nothing. He was eerily quiet as he packed up everything and hopped back onto his bike with you behind him. And he drove, only stopping when he absolutely needed to sleep. Distantly you wondered what everyone would say about your protruding stomach. You were only a month shy of being full term. That was why you both had started heading back. And now everyone would know and there would be no escape. Not again. You weren’t ready but you had to be. There was no other option.

After a rough night in a motel, Sweet Pea finally noticed your distress. His mind had been preoccupied on the serpents for obvious reasons. “Hey, Y/N, come here.” He whispered and you moved closer to him. He enveloped you in his arms and breathed you in, almost as if it would be the last time you’d get to be alone together. “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll get through his just like we’ve gotten through everything else that has been thrown at us. Remember when we thought there was a bear and it was really just a stray cat going through our garbage? This is just like that. It’s just a cat. Not a terrifying bear, okay?”

You let out a low sight, “yeah...okay.”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his voice so serious that it worried you.

“Of course.” You muttered back, not understanding what he was getting at.

He smiled softly, “Then trust me to get us through this.” He kissed you once more before finally getting up to get ready for the last leg of the drive. You’d be in Riverdale by late afternoon and your road trip would unfortunately be over.

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theculturedmarxist · 4 years

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Yves here. Reader IM Doc, an internal medicine practitioner of 30 years, trained and worked in one of the top teaching hospitals in the US for most of his career before moving to a rural hospital in an affluent pocket of Flyover. He has been giving commentary from the front lines of the pandemic. Along with current and former colleagues, he is troubled by the PR-flier-level information presented to the public about the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines, at least prior to the release of an article in the New England Journal of Medicine on the Pfizer vaccine: Safety and Efficacy of the BNT162b2 mRNA Covid-19 Vaccine. However, he did not find the study to be reassuring. He has taken the trouble of writing up his reservations after discussing the article with his group of nine physicians that meets regularly to sanity check concerns and discuss the impact that articles will have on their practices.

By IM Doc, a internal medicine doctor working in a rural hospital in the heartlands

Right off the bat – I am as weary and concerned about this pandemic as anyone. What my little rural area has been through in the past three weeks or so has been nothing short of harrowing. This virus has the ability to render patients about as sick as I have ever seen in my life, while leaving more than half the population with minimal if any symptoms. The patients who are sick are often very sick. And instead of slow and steady improvement like we normally experience, most of these patients are assigned to a long and hard slog. Multiple complications arise. This leads to very diminished throughput in the hospital. The patients literally stack up and we have nowhere to put the new ones coming in who themselves will be there for days or weeks. On top of that are the constant donning and doffing of PPE and intense emotional experiences for the staff, who are themselves becoming patients or in this small town have grandma or Aunt Gertrude as a patient.

To put it bluntly, I want this pandemic over. And now. But I do not want an equal or even worse problem added onto the tragedy. And that is my greatest fear right now. And medical history has demonstrated conclusively over and over again: brash, poorly-thought-out, emotion-laden decisions regarding interventions in a time of crisis can exponentially increase the scale of pain and lead to even worse disasters.

I am not an anti-vaxxer. I have given tens of thousands of safe and tested vaccines over my lifetime. I am very familiar with side effects and safety problems associated with all of them. That is why I can administer them with confidence. I am also an optimist, so all of the cautions I discuss below are the result of experience and the information made public about the Pfizer vaccine, not a temperamental predisposition to see the glass as half empty.

I know this piece is long, but I wanted to completely dissect the landmark New England Journal of Medicine (from now on NEJM) publication of the first Pfizer vaccine paper. I am replicating the method of my mentor in Internal Medicine, a tall figure in 20th Century medicine. He was an internationally recognized authority and his name is on one of the foundational textbooks in his specialty. He was a master and he taught me very well, including the fundamentals of scientific inquiry and philosophy, telltale signs of sloppy or dishonest work, the order in which you should dissect someone’s work, and the statistics involved.

When I have a new medical student doing rotations with me, I give them a collection of reading. At the very top is Drug Companies & Doctors: A Story of Corruption from the New York Review of Books in 2009 by Marcia Angell, MD. She was the editor-in-chief of the NEJM, the very journal that published this Pfizer vaccine paper.

Dr. Angell’s article is the Cliffs Notes version of much longer discussions she had about corruption, corporatism, managerialism, profiteering, greed, and deception in in the medical profession. Patient care and patient concerns and indeed patient lives in her mind have been absolutely overcome by all of these other things. It is a landmark paper, and should be read by anyone who is going to interact with the medical community, because alas, this is the way it is now. I view this paper the exact same way I view Eisenhower’s speech about the military industrial complex. What she said is exactly true, and has only become orders of magnitude worse since 2009.

And now the paper.

Unfortunately, this study from Pfizer in the latest NEJM, and indeed this whole vaccine rollout, are case studies in the pathology Agnell described. There are more red flags in this paper and related events than present on any May Day in downtown Beijing. Yet all anyone hears from our media, our medical elites, and our politicians are loud hosannas and complete unquestioning acceptance of this new technique. And lately, ridicule and spite for anyone who dares to raise questions.

I have learned over thirty years as a primary care provider that Big Pharma deserves nothing from me but complete and total skepticism and the assumption that anything they put forth is pure deception until proven otherwise. Why so harsh? Well, to put it bluntly, Big Pharma has covered my psyche with 30 years of scars:

• As a very young doctor, I treated an extraordinary middle-aged woman who had contracted polio as a toddler from a poorly tested polio vaccine rolled out in an “emergency.” Tens of thousands of American kids shared her fate1 • The eight patients I took care of until they died from congestive heart failure that had been induced by a diabetes drug called Actos. The drug company knew full well heart failure was a risk during their trials. When it became obvious after the rollout, they did everything they could to obfuscate. Actos now carries a black box warning about increased risk of heart failure • The three women who I took care of who had been made widows as their husbands died of completely unexpected heart attacks while on Vioxx. I have no proof the Vioxx did this. But when Vioxx was finally removed from the market, the mortality rate in the US fell that year by a measurable amount, inconsistent with recent trends and forecasts. Merck knew from their trials that Vioxx had a significant risk of cardiovascular events and stroke, and did absolutely nothing to relay that danger in any way. Worse, they did everything they could to muddle information and evade responsibility once the truth started to come out • The dozens upon dozens of twenty and thirty-something patients who have been rendered emotional and spiritual zombies by the SSRIs, antipsychotics and amphetamines they have been taking since childhood. Their brain never learned what emotions were, much less how to process them and we are left with empty husks where people never developed. The SSRIs and antipsychotics were NEVER approved for anyone under 18. EVER. While there are some validated uses for stimulants in children, they are obviously overprescribed, as confirmed by long-standing media reports of their routine use as a study/performance aid. It is all about the lucre. • The hundreds and hundreds of 40-60 year olds who have been hollowed out from the legal prescribing of opioids. All the while the docs were resisting this assault, the drug companies and the paid-off academics and medical elites were changing the rules to make physicians who did not treat any pain at all with opiates into evil Satan-worshippers. And they paid for media appearances to drive across the point: OPIATES ARE GOOD. WE HAVE MADE THEM SO YOU CANNOT GET ADDICTED. And here we are now with entire states taking more opioids than in the waning days of the Chinese Empire, and we all know how that story ended. All this misery so a family of billionaires can laugh its way to the bank.

I carry all these people and more with me daily. I would not be doing a service to their memory if I allowed myself to be duped into writing another blind prescription that was going to add yet another scar.

I will dissect the important parts of this paper exactly as my mentor described above taught me. He performed years of seminal research. He was a nationally-known expert in his field.

In medicine, especially in top-tier journals like NEJM, landmark papers are always accompanied by an editorial. These editorials are written by a national expert who almost always has “peer-reviewed” the source material as well. This is how the reader knows that an expert in the field has looked over the source material and that it supports the conclusions in the paper. My mentor did this all the time. The binders all over his office were the actual underlying data that he scrutinized to confirm the findings. There is no way on earth to print and publish the voluminous source material. Editorial review was one sure way all to assure that someone independent, with appropriate experience, confirmed the findings. This was onerous work, but he and thousands of others did it because this is the very essence of science. He was scrupulous in his editorials about findings, problems, and conclusions. It was after all his reputation as well.

My first lesson from him: READ THE EDITORIAL FIRST. It gets the problems in your head before you read the statistics and methods, etc. in the actual paper. It gives you the context of the study in history. It often includes a vigorous discussion of why the study is important.

Admittedly, over the past generation, as the corporatism and dollar-counting has taken over my profession and its ethics, this function of editorial authoring has become at times increasingly bizarre and too-obviously predisposed to conclude with glad tidings of joy, especially if pharmaceuticals are involved.

So I read the editorial first. You can find it on the NEJM webpage, in the top right corner.

And, amazingly, it is basically a recitation of the same whiz-bang Pfizer puffery that we have all been reading for the past few weeks. There really is not much new. Furthermore, it is filled with words like “triumph” and “dramatic success”. Those accolades have yet to be earned. This vaccine has not yet even been released. Surely, “triumph” is a bit premature. Those words would NEVER have been used by my mentor or similar researchers in his generation. They would have been focused on the good, the bad and the ugly. A generation ago, editorial reviewers saw their job as informing the reader and making certain the clinicians that were reading knew of any limitations or problems.

In quite frankly unprecedented fashion, two different events that were carefully reported occurred almost simultaneously with the release of both the paper and the editorial. Both of these events contradict and contravene data and conclusions reported in both the paper and the editorial and I believe they deserve immediate attention. They both belie the assertions of the editorial writers that [emphasis mine] “the (safety) pattern appears to be similar to that of other viral vaccines and does not arouse specific concern”.

First, a critical issue for any clinician is “exclusion criteria”. This refers in general to groups of subjects that were not allowed into the trial prima facie. Common examples would include over 70, patients on chemotherapy and other immunosuppressed patients, children, diabetics, etc.. This issue is important because I do not want to give my patient this vaccine (available apparently next week) to any patient that is in an excluded group. Those patients really ought to wait until more information is available – FOR THEIR OWN SAFETY. And not to mention, exclusion criteria exist because the subjects in them are usually considered more vulnerable to mayhem than average subjects. From my reading of this paper, and the accompanying editorial, one would assume there were no exclusion criteria. They certainly are never mentioned.

I reiterate, the paper is silent on this question of exclusion criteria, as is the editorial. Had my mentor seen something like “exclusion criteria” in the source material, and realized that it was not in the final paper, he would have absolutely included a notice in his editorial. This would have been after calling the principal investigator and directly questioning why there was no mention in the original paper. Patient safety should be foremost on everyone’s mind at all times in clinical research and its presentation to practitioners.

And now we know there were exclusion criteria, not because of anything Pfizer, the investigators, or the NEJM did but because of stunning news out of the UK. UPDATE: I will address this at greater length, but an alert reader did find the study protocol, which were not referenced in any way that any of the nine members in my review group could find, nor were they mentioned in the text of paper or editorial, as one would expect for a medication intended for the public at large. I apologize for the oversight, but this information was not easy to find from the article, not mentioned or linked to from the text of the article, the text of the editorial, in the “Figures/Media,” or in a supplemental document.

In the UK on day 1 of the rollout, two nurses with severe allergies experienced anaphylaxis, a life-threatening reaction to this vaccine. Only after world-wide coverage did Pfizer admit that there was an exclusion criterion for severe allergies in their study.

Ummm, Pfizer, since we are now getting ready to give this to possibly millions of people in the next few weeks – ARE THERE ANY OTHER EXCLUSION CRITERIA? Should I, as a physician, specifically not be giving this to patients with conditions that you have excluded?

Furthermore, NEJM, since you published this trial, have you bothered to at least put a correction on this trial on your website that it should NOT be given to people with severe allergies? I certainly see nothing like this.

Should someone from the NEJM or the FDA be all over Pfizer to ascertain the existence of other exclusion groups so we do not accidentally harm or kill someone over the next two weeks?

Unfortunately, Americans, you have your answer from the FDA about severe allergic reactions right from a press conference in which Dr. Peter Marks, the director of FDA’s Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research is quoted as saying:

Even people who’ve had a severe allergic reaction to food or to something in the environment in the past should be OK to get the shot….1.6% of the population has had a severe allergic reaction to a food or something in the environment. We would really not like to have that many people not be able to receive the vaccine.

Are you serious? Dr. Marks, have you ever seen an anaphylactic reaction? I live in a very rural area. Many patients live 30 minutes or more from the hospital. What if one of them had an anaphylactic reaction to this vaccine hours after administration, had no epi-pen and had to travel a half hour to get to the nearest hospital? There is a very high likelihood that a good outcome would not occur. Sometimes, as a physician, I simply cannot believe what I am hearing out of the mouths of our so-called medical leaders.

To the writers of the editorial accompanying this research:

Did you actually look at the source material? The existence of at least one exclusion criterion for severe allergic reactions had to be in there somewhere. If you did look at the source material, are there others that the physicians of America need to know about? If they were not in the source material, after the events in the UK, has anyone bothered to follow up with Pfizer about this omission?

Does anyone at NEJM or Pfizer or FDA plan to fully inform the physicians of America? Does ANYONE at NEJM or Pfizer or FDA care about patient safety?

Now for the second story that got my attention this week, an article from JAMA Internal Medicine, a subsidiary of JAMA, The Journal of the American Medical Association.

JAMA, like NEJM, is one of America’s landmark medical journals. I will assure you that JAMA is not the National Enquirer. This piece was written by a nursing researcher. It is very likely she is well-versed in all aspects of American medical research.

In her story, she details her recruitment and her experience in the Pfizer COVID trial, the same one we are dissecting here. She describes in detail her experience with the vaccine and the fact that she is concerned that many patients are likely going to feel very sick after the injection. She wrote up her own reactions, and included a very troubling one. About 15 hours after her second injection, she developed a fever of 104.9. She explained that she called her reaction to the Research Nurse promptly the next morning. The recounted the response of the Research Nurse to her information as “A lot of people have reactions after the second injection. Keep monitoring your symptoms and call us if anything changes.”

Thankfully, it appears this nurse has completely recovered. From the best I can tell, this encounter occurred in late August and early September, putting it well within the trial’s recruitment of arms as detailed in the paper.

This JAMA article impinges directly on Figure 2 on page 7 of the paper, a graphic that that lays out all the major side effects during in the trial.

It is very important to note that based on the trial’s own data, conveniently laid out on the very top of the figure in green, blue, orange and red, a temperature of 104.9F or 40.5 C is described as a Grade 4 event. The definition of a Grade 4 event is anything that is life-threatening or disabling. A fever of 104.9 can have grave consequences for any adult and is absolutely a Grade 4 event.

By law, a grade 4 event must immediately be reported to the FDA, and to the Institutional Review Board (the entity charged with overseeing the safety of the subjects) and to the original investigators. THERE IS NO EXCEPTION. One would think that would also be reported in the research paper to at least alert clinicians to be on the lookout.

I could not find any mention of this event in the text of the paper. NOT ONE. Let’s take a closer look at Figure 2 on page 7 where adverse events are reported in a table form. Please note: this is a very busy image, and in the browser version, with very low resolution graphics that are profoundly difficult to read (they are a bit clearer if you download the PDF). This is a time-tested pharmaceutical company tactic to obscure findings that they do not want you to see. My mentor warned me about ruses like these years ago, and finding one raises the possibility that deception is in play.

The area for the reporting of this Grade 4 reaction would be on the 2nd row down at the left of the set called B, titled systemic events and use of medication. The area of concern would be where the graph is marked with the number 16. Do you see a red line there? It would be at the very top. I have blown this up 4 times on my computer and see no red there. I am left to assume that this Grade 4 “Life Threatening or Disabling” event that was clearly within the time parameters of this trial was not reported in this study.

To those who say that I am making way too much out of one patient with a severe fever, let’s do a little math. There are 37,706 participants in the “Main Safety Population” (from Table 1), of which 18.860 received the vaccine.2 Let us assume that this individual was the only one that had a GRADE 4 reaction. Let us also assume that the end goal is to vaccinate every American a total of 330,000,000 people. So if we extrapolate this 1 out of 18,860 into all 330,000,000 of us, it suggest that roughly 17,500 could have this kind of fever. Now assume a 70% vaccination rate, and you get that would be approximately 12,250. I hope you now understand that in clinical medicine related to trials like this – a whole lot of nothing can turn into a whole lot of something quickly when you extrapolate to the entire targeted group. Does anyone not think that the clinicians of America should be prepared for anything like this that may be coming?

A couple more questions for NEJM and the editorial writers:

Were you ever made aware that this Grade 4 reaction occurred? Now that we have a reliable report that it occurred, has there been any attempt to investigate?

Did the Research Nurse actually report this event? If not, was she just simply not trained or was there deliberate efforts to conceal such reactions? How many more reactions were reported anywhere this trial was conducted and that did not make it to the FDA, the IRB or possibly the investigators? Is that not a cause for concern?

As if this is not enough, there is so much more wrong with this editorial. Now we are going to talk about corruption.

I want to reiterate my concern that over the past generation, as my profession has lost its way, its medical journals have turned into cheering sections for Big Pharma rather than referees and safety monitors. We all should relish the great things medical science is doing, but we should be doing EVERYTHING we can to minimize injury and death. Too often our journals have become enablers of Big Pharma deceiving our physicians and the public. Unfortunately, this paper and its editorial look troublingly like a case study of this development.

To provide context, I looked over the last month of the NEJM, the issues from November 12, 19 and 26th and December 3rd. Based on having read the NEJM over the years, I believe these four weeks are representative.

During this period, there were 15 original articles published in the fields of Oncology, General Surgery, Infectious Disease, Endocrinology, Renal, Cardiology, Pulmonary and Ear Nose & Throat. Of these 15 articles, the editors thought that eight were important enough to have an editorial from an acknowledged expert. I have read every one of these studies and the editorials as I do every week. All eight in the past month were indeed by leading experts in the field of the underlying studies. They included a COVID vaccine overview reviewed by an leading figure in vaccinology, and two COVID papers about Plaquenil and other approaches discussed by top infectious disease experts.

It was unlikely that those papers were going to get national media attention. All medical stuff.

But here we have our Pfizer vaccine paper. We have 300,000 fatalities in the USA alone and millions of cases. We have whacked our economy, we are in the depths of a national emergency. And we have a paper, the first, that may offer a glimpse of hope. Certainly this would be a landmark paper, and certainly it was treated in that manner? Right?

One would think that the doctors of America would have this study explained to them by a world-known vaccinologist? NOPE…..Maybe a virologist? NOPE….. Maybe a leading government official? Dr. Fauci? Dr. Birx? Dr. Osterholm? NOPE…..Maybe an expert in coronaviruses? NOPE…

We get the Pfizer ad glossy editorial treatment from Eric Rubin MD, the editor-in-chief of the NEJM. And Dr, Longo, an associate editor. Dr. Longo is an oncologist. Dr. Rubin is at least a recognized infectious disease doctor, but his specialty based on my Google search is mycobacterium, not virology. Again, one would normally anticipate for a paper of this importance, the editorial would be from someone with directly on point expertise.

Why would this fact been important to my mentor? (and I had the privilege of hearing him trash a paper in an open forum about a very similar issue, a paper introducing a drug to the world that later was the disaster of the decade, Vioxx) Why is this important to me and all the other physicians in my review group here in flyover country yesterday?

Because the choice of authorship of the editorial leads you to one of only several conclusions:

• Pfizer would not release the source data because of proprietary corporate concerns and no self-respecting expert would review without it • Pfizer knew there are problems and did not want anyone with expertise to find out and publicize them • The editors could not find a real expert willing to put their name on a discussion • Drs. Rubin and Longo are on some kind of journey to Vanity Fair and wanted their names on an “article for the ages” • This is a rush job, and no one had time to do anything properly, and so we just threw it all together in a flash

Readers, pick your poison. If anyone can think of a sound reason, please let me know. I am all ears.

But let’s open up the can of worms a bit more. Pfizer supports NEJM. Just a brief swipe through of recent editions yielded several Pfizer ads. A Pfizer ad appeared on my NEJM website this AM. I do not know how much they pay in advertising but appears to be quite a bit.

Americans, have we devolved so far in our grift that it is now appropriate for the EDITOR-IN-CHIEF of our landmark medical journal to be personally authoring “rah rah” editorials about a product of a client that supports his journal with ad dollars? And he has the gall to not present this conflict on his disclosure form? Really? Am I the only one worried about this type of thing?

Now we travel from the can of worms to the sewer. And this impacts every single one of us. I want you to Google the names of the people on the FDA committee that voted 17-4-1 two days ago to proceed with the Emergency Use Declaration. Go ahead – Google it. On that list, you will find the name Eric Rubin, MD. Why yes indeed, that is the very same Eric Rubin MD who wrote this editorial. Who is the Editor-in-Chief of the NEJM. A publication that certainly takes ad dollars from Pfizer. And he was one of the 17 to vote for the Pfizer product to be immediately used in an emergency fashion. Oh yes, oh yes he was.

Am I the only one who can recognize that Pfizer and other pharma companies may have some influence on Dr. Rubin thanks continued support of his employer, the NEJM? Am I the only one concerned that Dr. Rubin’s “rah rah” editorial may have been influenced by Pfizer? Is anyone else troubled that the Editor-in-Chief of the NEJM, supported by Big Pharma advertising dollars, is sitting on an FDA board to decide the fate of any pharmaceutical product? Is this not the very definition of corruption? Or at least a severe conflict of interest? I strongly suspect that a thorough evaluation of members of that committee will reveal other problems. As my grandmother always used to say, “There is never just one roach under a refrigerator.”

I looked in vain all day today for media discussions of conflicts of interest with Dr. Rubin or anyone else in a position of authority. I found nothing.

What I did find was the Boston NPR affiliate WBUR discussing Dr. Rubin’s Yes vote. You can listen yourself:

This interview left me much more concerned about Dr. Rubin’s role and what exactly he read in the raw data from Pfizer. In this interview, he admits that he as an FDA advisory member has seen no data from the Moderna trial coming up for a vote this week:

These two vaccines are fairly similar to one another, so I am hoping the data will look good, but we haven’t seen the data yet, so I reserve judgement.

Excuse me, but should not the members already have the data and be mulling over it to ask intelligent questions?

These statements left me more worried about the issues I have already brought up with the Pfizer vaccine:

We don’t know if there are particular groups that should or should not get the vaccine…We do not know what will happen to safety over the longer term.

When finally asked specifically about the UK allergic reactions and if they came up in the FDA meeting (emphasis mine):

It did come up and this was a bit of a surprise because in the trial, that trial was limited to specific kinds of participants, there were apparently no incidents like that, nevertheless this suggests it is something we are going to have to look out for.

There is absolutely not a word in the published data to suggest there was a limit to SPECIFIC PARTICIPANTS – what on earth is he talking about? Are there limited specific kinds of patients that we as physicians should be looking to vaccinate?

In a fine finish, toward the end of the interview Dr. Rubin states he is a bit relieved that low risk patients will be getting the vaccine later after we know more about the side effects with the first patients. I am really not trying to be a jerk – but are you kidding me? I thought this vaccine was a triumph with minimal side effects.

Dr. Rubin, kind sir, I really feel that you owe a clarification about your statements in the WBUR interview to the patients and caregivers of America. We are the ones with lives on the line.

First, I have the privilege of sitting on an Institutional Review Board (an independent entity that protects patient safety) and I know something about Grade 4 side effects. Just for 1 Grade 4 side effect in one subject, the accompanying documentation would often be a half a ream of paper. Because I agreed to do that job, it was my obligation to look through that documentation. That half a ream was for one side effect in one trial. Yet, you state unequivocally in this interview, that you, as a sitting member of the FDA committee that oversees the safety of the nation in this affair, have not seen any of the Moderna documentation for that upcoming meeting this week.

For readers to fully understand what I am saying, this Moderna documentation is going to be reams and reams of documents that need to be evaluated carefully to ask the right questions. And you have not yet studied this? For a meeting in just a few days? I find this deeply troubling. Your statements create the appearance the committee you are sitting on is nothing more than a rubber stamp for a decision that has already been made. This would be an absolute tragedy.

Second, Dr. Rubin, you in your position as the Editor-in-Chief of the NEJM and the editorial writer for this research, may be one of the few people on earth that have seen the original Pfizer research. Despite calling this a triumph, you state in the interview that you are relieved that younger people less likely to get the vaccine early so you will have time to wait to see if complications develop in the first patients. You have stated, despite your assertion in the editorial that the side effects were consistent with other vaccines, that “we don’t know if there are particular groups that should or should not get the vaccine”. Have you seen something in that “triumph” research that is concerning enough to you to make such statements? As a physician, I would really like a clarification on this statement, given that the shots are already rolling out today.

Now that we are past the editorial, a few words about the nuts and bolts of the paper.

I look for very specific red flags – usually making the data difficult to interpret. This study did not disappoint.

On page 5, in Table 1, the Demographic Description of the participants, go down to the AGE GROUP area. Note it is divided into only two cohorts 16-55 and >55. This is a real problem. My mentor said an honest paper should never deploy such a tactic.

You see, more than half of my patients are over 70. Why is this kind of obfuscation a real problem for my ability to trust the vaccine? Well, the intro papers to many pharmaceuticals that have gone down the drain in recent years have used this very same device. It is their way of hiding the fact that they did not put many older patients in the trial, certainly not representative of the population, and certainly not representative of who is seemingly going to get this vaccine in the first round. Do I know that 90% of the >55 group is actually between 55-58? I don’t. How hard would it be for them to do a breakdown in decades? 16-25 26-35 36-45 46-55 56-65 66-75 76-85? We have lots of computers in this country and the population breakdown is done this way on studies I read all the time. Why not do provide this information on a study that is this critically important, particularly one where elderly patients will be near the head of the line?

What are they trying to do here? Unfortunately, too often drugmakers resort to this practice to hide their failure to test their drug on the elderly to an appropriate or safe degree, knowing there would likely be lots of problems. Because of their past behavior, I ALWAYS assume this is true until proven otherwise and act accordingly with my elderly patients.

That is the world these companies have made for themselves.

Now for the tables on pages 6 and 7 about immediate side effects.

Just a brief look shows that local soreness and tenderness is very common, up to 75% with this vaccine. That is a bit high, but not that far out of range from my experience with other vaccines.

The tables on page 7 are the whoppers.

Headaches, fatigue, chills, muscle pain and joint pain appear to be very common, way more common than other vaccines I am used to, as in an order of magnitude higher. It is very clear from this table that about half the patients, especially the younger ones, are going to feel bad after this vaccine. That is extraordinary.

We are told nothing about how long these symptoms last or the amount of time at work lost. The “minimal side effects comparable with other viral vaccines” in the editorial and press releases is just not consistent at all with my experience of 30 years as a primary care physician. There was universal agreement with this assessment among my MD colleagues. They had great concern about this as a matter of fact: great concern that it will cause bad publicity and decrease administration and great concern that given this already high side effect profile, it may be much worse when it gets out to the public.

Given the fact that this virus is largely asymptomatic in more than half the people infected, what exactly are we doing here?

Furthermore, unlike other pharmaceutical papers that try to explain variances in symptoms like this, there is not a word offered about possible underlying causes of these outcomes.

The numbers of COVID cases in the placebo group vs the vaccine group have been widely publicized, from 162 cases in the placebo group down to 8 in the vaccine group, giving a relative reduction of 95%. It seemed to all of us in our review group that we do not have nearly enough patients to really make assessments. That is not a criticism. The researchers have done admirably in my opinion to get this many patients this quickly. That is still the problem: they are going to be using the first million patients or so in the general public to get a real gauge on numbers and side effects.

Another issue of grave concern to us all on Friday was the asymptomatic cases. The only subjects counted in the 162 and the 8 numbers above were patients with symptoms. Who knows how many in each cohort were asymptomatic.

This to me leads to the most important question of all, and it was again completely untouched….. How many asymptomatic patients are there? And how many who were vaccinated are still able to spread the virus? Not even an attempt to answer that question. This is critical, and is one of the ways a vaccine can backfire. If a vaccine does not provide sterilizing immunity, ie stop transmission, it is of limited use for disease control. It is great for the individual, but if they can remain without symptoms and still spread it all around it does not help from a public health standpoint.

I have described my concerns and red flags about this study. I would like to add one more thing. Pharmaceuticals that go bad rarely do so in the first few weeks or months. Rather, the adverse effects take months or years. It is a known unknown of not just vaccines but any kind of drug. Our pharma companies have become notorious for having inklings or indeed full knowledge that there is a problem early on, and saying nothing until many are maimed or killed. I will assume that this is the case in this class of drugs until proven otherwise. They are such deceivers I have no choice.

Due to sense of urgency my colleagues and Ifeel about this vaccine rollout, we had an ad hoc meeting of our Journal Club to discuss the NEJM article. Of the nine physicians at the meeting, three have already had very mild cases of COVID. Of the nine, only one is enthusiastic about these vaccines. I have a wait and see stance. I will not be taking it myself. I have too many scars, too many staring at me from the grave to take any other approach.

My patients’ feeeback on the COVID vaccine has been very different than the polls finding that 60% are ready to take it. About half my patients are in the professional/managerial classes and feature a higher level of the 0.1% than the US overall. They tend to be more blue. Most prefer to wait and thankful that health care workers were getting it first. The other half who are working class, more red, and they feel the whole thing is a hoax. They will not be getting the vaccine – likely ever.

The only enthusiasts I would call elderly Rachel Maddow fans. That really makes no sense to me at all since Operation Warp Speed was a Trump project and even Kamala Harris said she would not take a vaccine that Trump recommended.

I would say AT BEST 25% of my patients will be getting this vaccine shortly after being available. There is widespread skepticism that is not being acknowledged by our media. The pharmaceutical industry has worked tirelessly to earn every bit of that disrespect.

Please look at Dr. Angell’s seminal article from 2009. She predicted in her works, all of this and more. My profession has been captured by a cabal of corporatist MBA clones, rapacious and unethical pharmaceutical entities, and an academic elite addicted to credentialism and cronyism. They have over the years bought off and infiltrated all of our government health care regulating agencies and our public health system. And they are completely incestuous. I believe where we are now to be worse than Dr. Angell could have ever dreamed. Even more depressing, I see no way out.

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1 As a special homage to the polio patient described above, a truly exceptional woman, let me underscore that the disastrous rollout of the this polio vaccine came at a time similar to ours. Panic and malaise were in the air. The children of America and the world were being stricken with polio at an alarming rate. Dr. Alton Ochsner, a leading figure in medicine of the day, vaccinated both of his grandchildren in public in an attempt to bolster confidence in the vaccines. Within 8 days his grandson was dead of bulbar polio. All the celebrities and politicians lining up to take this vaccine on national TV should remember this tragedy. “Stupid human tricks” like this have no place in this kind of situation, and can backfire in unexpected ways. Unlike that era’s polio vaccine, there is no way on earth this vaccine can transmit COVID. However, there are those of us in the medical profession who treat the plan to make population-wide use of messenger RNA, which before these trials had been repeatedly investigated but never reached the human trial stage save in a small scale Zika vaccine study. This is no time for machismo. This is also no time for anything less than complete transparency on the part of everyone involved in the quest for safe and effective vaccines. To behave in any other way is an affront to patients like mine who have suffered and died in the past.

2 If you read the paper, you might well have wondered about that 18,860 number and even checked Table 1 to make sure it’s accurate (it is), since the third paragraph of the Abstract, under the headline “Results,” has very different figures:

A total of 43,548 participants underwent randomization, of whom 43,448 received injections: 21,720 with BNT162b2 and 21,728 with placebo.

So how did the researchers get from 21,720 injected with the vaccine to the 18,860 in the “Main Safety Population”? This sort of thing confirms the impression that this is a very incomplete or sloppy study. It is really not clear where the difference between the 37,706 and the 43,548, or for that matter, the 36,520 total subjects in the Tables 2 and 3 (Efficacy) come from. I used the 37,706 and hence the 18,860 that went with it from Table because it gave slightly smaller numbers than using the Table 2 and 3 figures, but they would be close to each other.

My concern here is the 6000ish discrepancy between the figures in the main text compared to the tables. Were they excluded? If so, why? I could not make heads or tails out of this, and accordingly kept it out of the body of this post. This kind of inconsistency really needs to be hashed out with the actual source data in hand, and should have been explained in the article, even if just in footnotes.

#covid19 #covid #the rona #la rona #covid-19 #covid vaccine #fuck covid #coronavirus #medecine #health #medical pharmaceuticals #pharmaceutical industry #big pharma #pfizer #vaccine rollout #operation warp speed

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tiny-slasher · 4 years

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@0shark-king0

Alright fam. I remembered this story yesterday because yesterday my brother and I heard what sounds like a bee in our bathroom wall (which we will take care of), and it brought back one of the most terrifying experiences I’ve ever had. And I SWEAR it’s all completely true. (Also there were times I thought our house was a little haunted).

My family (my parents and two brothers) and I lived in a rural area at the time, where our closest neighbor was about a mile down the road. Our house was built in the early 70s, so it was a bit run down. We had lived there for about ten years at this point, and knew all the weird noises and strange things that our house did regularly. We did get bugs every now and then, especially since we didn’t get an exterminator out there as often as we should have...and...well...Texas has lots of insects. But, it was never anything out of control.

My dad had decided to take my brothers out to see some friends for the evening that they rarely got to see, and my mom and I stayed at home. This was something we did often, so it wasn’t anything unusual. Generally, I stay inside of my bedroom most of the day anyway.

A few hours after they left, I left my room to get a drink from the kitchen. On the way there, I passed by the living room and heard a buzzing noise. Pausing, I look around and see nothing, and soon the buzzing stops. So, I shrug my shoulders and continue what I was doing. I get something to drink, decided to wash a few dishes while I’m in the kitchen (because I did the dishes at the time, since we didn’t have a dishwasher). While I’m washing, I hear the buzzing sound again, only closer. Looking up at the window in front of me, I see the silhouette of a bee flying around behind it.

I genuinely love bees, so after several terrified attempts, I caught the bee in a glass and set it free outside. Proud of myself, I went back inside and went back to washing dishes.

Then, I heard more buzzing.

There was no bee in the window, but I could still hear it flying around nearby. At the same time, I heard my mom walk into the kitchen to get something to eat for dinner. Frustrated, after spending about ten minutes beforehand trying to catch the last bee, I turned to her.

“I hear a bee,” I said, hoping she’d start looking for it and catch it like she usually would.

Instead, her face went a bit white. She frantically looked around and then said, “Another one?”

“What do you mean ‘another one’?!” I asked, my eyes widening. “I just got rid of one a second ago! There’s been more than that?”

“I got rid of two in the living room about fifteen minutes ago!” she said, grabbing a can of bug spray.

We only had roach and and bug spray, not anything for wasps or bees, so we had hoped it would do the job anyway. As much as neither of us are ones to kill bees, we were both getting a little anxious about it.

Being the braver one when it comes to bugs, I walked into the living room with a fly swatter. Our house was fairly small, so it didn’t take very long to see two bees flying around inside of one of our lamps. Not one, but two. I called my mom over and she sprayed the spray inside of the lamp, and then we both ran away as the bees angrily buzzed around in the lamp. Unfortunately, instead of just dying like we’d hoped they would...they flew out of the lamp and buzzed around the living room like nothing had happened.

My mom and I are both terrified of flying bugs like wasps, so a couple of angry bees wreaking havoc in our house was enough to have us both cowering in the kitchen. The buzzing stopped after a couple of minutes, so we thought that the bees had finally died. Walking into the living room, we couldn’t find them anywhere. We searched the place up and down, seeing nothing but furniture.

Assuming they had fallen down behind our couch or something, we decided to move on with our lives. We both spent the next ten or fifteen minutes making dinner for ourselves.

Then, we heard buzzing again.

We walked back into the living room to see two bees in the lamp again. We figured that maybe we didn’t get them with the spray the first time, so we did it again, making sure to get them. We ran out of the room, waiting for the angry buzzing to die, but it never did. Walking back in, we saw the two bees still angry in the lamp, and another one crawling on the wall near them. We sprayed them again, only to see another bee flying around our ceiling fan, trying to get to the light. There were also a couple more crawling around our fireplace (which had been blocked off for a couple of decades).

At this point, we’d been in there for at least an hour, probably longer, and our entire living room was literally dripping with bug spray while at least 7 bees were angrily flying around. It felt almost like fighting the Hydra, where if you kill one bee, two more show up. That isn’t even counting the three bees we knew we’d already gotten rid of. The worst part of it was that we didn’t have any idea where on earth they were coming from. They just sort of appeared out of thin air.

After seeing another one crawling on a bookshelf, my mom and I decided to lock ourselves in our rooms and wait for my dad to come home to deal with it.

A couple of hours later, my dad finally came home. We had warned him via text about the bees, so the first thing he did was check the living room for them. A few minutes later, he came to my mom and I and said he didn’t see any bees. In disbelief, we both marched ourself into the living room to point them out, but saw nothing.

There were no bees. Anywhere. Dead or alive.

The worst part about it was that we spent the next week or so waiting for them to come back, but they never did. We never found out where they’d come from, or where they had gone. They just disappeared.

#storytime #about me #true story #bees #seriously though this is all completely true #we still haven't gotten over it and it has been two years

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raleighliving · 4 years

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Pros and Cons of College Life in Raleigh

Last time I wrote about colleges in Raleigh generally and how it’s not like other college towns. This time, I’m gonna be speaking a bit more about the pros and cons so it should be a little more specific.

Before that, however, I wanna make this clear: Raleigh is not somewhere you should move to for college unless the school you’ve applied to is your dream school.

In terms of academics, there are better choices than NC State or WPU. If you wanna study biology or medicine, schools like UNC-W or Duke would probably be a better fit for instance. If you live in Raleigh, don’t pick a school just because it’s close; if you live in another part of the states and you want to attend an east coast school there are options all along the east coast that you should consider.

Raleigh is a great place to live and work, and there are plenty of friendly people here; but a degree from the right university can make or break your career (depending on the field and other aspects of course).

As a person suffering from anxiety, the question “Do you want the good news or bad news first” has always been a terrible one for me. Up until I hear the bad news, it could be literally anything regardless of what the person asking was doing or how much of the task they were on I’m familiar with.

Similarly, living in Raleigh (or really anywhere for that matter) is going to present a lot of subjective pros and cons. Please keep in mind this is gonna be super subjective, but I hope you enjoy reading this even if we disagree.

But you didn’t come here to read three paragraphs of disclaimer. So lets start by listing the good stuff.

Raleigh is a city full of vibrant color, culture, and cool shit. You can find cool things almost anywhere you look, regardless of where you are in Raleigh. I mean, all of the pictures (including those in this article) I use for this blog I’ve taken in Raleigh or nearby it. As a result, the first pro has got to be the beltline highway system.

The beltline is a highway system composed of I-440, I-40, and parts of I-540 that encapsulates all of Raleigh. It connects north and south Raleigh while having downtown in the center, letting travelers easily reach nearly any part of Raleigh.

I’ve lived on the border of Durham, Cary, and Rolesville at different points in my life. I’ve had to make trips to Garner and Apex for various reasons. At no point in my 20+ year stay have I ever had to make a city trip that lasted longer than a half-hour (one way). It makes working in Raleigh especially easy, since the abundance of highway access points and the convenience of the loop design means I’m never too far from that loop.

It even helps with adjusting to your new environment if you move here (for school or other reasons) since if you’re ever lost, the highways can act as a point to re-orient yourself by. I know I’ve had to do it plenty of times in the past, and it can really save you from looking like an idiot if you excuse your lost-ness by just saying “Oh yeah mate, I was just tryna get on the highway. Saves so much time.”

Does this mean Raleigh has the best transportation network of any city? Hell no. Does this mean that Raleigh has the best highway system? Not even close. But it’s still super nice, especially for students. You’ll run into the problems any urban place has like rush hour or crash delays, but this is mitigated by the fact you’ll be using it for our second pro: Everything happens in Raleigh.

Well, not EVERYTHING everything but as I’ve ranted about before; there’s plenty to do and see in the city of Raleigh (even if you’re a student).

For instance, according to raleighnc.gov, Raleigh is home to over 200 public parks. Not a fan of parks? Into more electronic entertainment? Then visit our very own “Arcade of Thrones” downtown and get your game on with your fellow nerds

Boring stuff like restaurants and night clubs aside, Raleigh is home to literally thousands of businesses and social clubs for you to partake in. Farmers markets, gun and knife shows, fishin’ holes and public church barbecues are available for that classic southern charm; but don’t forget to make use of our barcades, art festivals, concerts, comedy clubs and sport centers.

The only reason why I’m not going into more detail about examples like First Friday, the downtown cultural festivals, PNC arena or other more specific events is because I want to write about them in-depth in the future.

Of course, students having things to do and places to go is only part of the college experience. If you’re gonna come to Raleigh for college, the best pro I could possibly mention is the support network.

Not to say that we’re exactly all one big happy family here, but in Raleigh you get that nice blend of metropolitan city life with your rural state. Orgs like the LGBT Center, Goodwill, Raleigh Missions, and more support locals in need constantly and provide for the many different groups around here.

Libraries and civic centers share the same city as mosques and churches which neighbor women's shelters and LGBT+ advocacy groups. If you’re a republican or democrat, that’s fine but be prepared to meet the other members of the political spectrum since groups like the Democratic-Socialists of America (DSA) are active downtown as well.

If you need help or want to help others, there’s a 98% chance that you’ll find someone or something out there that meets your needs. Join a community through Facebook or Nextdoor and you’ll see every diaper drive, garage sale, and community recommendation pop up whenever one is needed.

Of course, this brings us to our first con. Raleigh may be home to some of the nicest people I’ve ever met but it doesn’t mean you won’t run into some problem people sooner or later.

There’s of course the typical collegiate douchebags, the upper-middle class young scions of no import who fumble through life with no regard for others because mommy and daddy will perpetually care for them, but being a red state you’ll also run into the more colorful republicans.

Every year there’s an anime convention called “Animazement” downtown and every year there’s a small herd of fundamentalist Christians warning all the otaku who’ll listen that they’re going to hell. Drive around town long enough and you’ll find a few different businesses that have made their opinions on things like masks and social distancing clear, not to mention there’s no shortage of QAnoners and alt-right sympathists.

Of course, you shouldn’t let others dictate the quality of your life or the area you live in but you should be aware that these people exist. Raleigh is more liberal than other parts of North Carolina for sure but it’s not the leftist paradise those other parts would say it is.

Other than the coinflip that is neighbors, Raleigh is kind of a pricy place to live. The cost of living is on average higher than other cities in the US, cheaper still than New York of Californian cities, but pricey nonetheless.

Rent in Raleigh for a one bedroom apartment is on average $975 according to bestplaces.net and can go as high as $1200 depending on the complex and location.

That, with a federal minimum wage of $7.25 an hour, means you’ll need

>Multiple jobs >Multiple roommates >A good paying job

or any combination of the two to be able to afford rent, utilities, and food beyond cup ramen. There’s housing programs like Section 8 and military housing initiatives to help, but for students you’re looking at some pretty steep housing costs for anywhere that’s not student dorms.

You can get a good job that pays decent, of course, nothing’s impossible. However, finding one that won’t require roommates would demand full time hours (which might be difficult to make on student scheduling) or a degree (which you’re probably at college to get). Most living spaces require you make at least 3x the advertised rent to even be considered as well, which may limit students to seedier student living complexes like University Village or The Proper (Formerly Vie, formerly wolf creek).

Finally, if you move to Raleigh for college be prepared to drive. A lot.

As I mentioned earlier, the beltline is a god send for students and people looking to explore; but it’s also practically mandatory for moving around Raleigh. Public transit in Raleigh isn’t non-existent but it’s pretty damn close.

Live between 10-15 minutes from your desired destination? Taking the bus is gonna be anywhere from half an hour to a full hour, and that’s if you even live near a bus route. If you’re like myself and habitually on the edge of Raleigh, be prepared to drive for a bit before you even see a GoRaleigh bus let alone a stop.

The buses do at least run pretty late (Closing normally around 11PM), but the lack of public transit lines and bike-able roads means that you’ll be adding to the urban congestion more likely than not.

Okay with driving? Hope you’re okay with paying another arm and a leg, because at most schools down here tuition doesn’t cover your parking pass.

NC State prices range from $105 to over $400 depending on your credit hours and where you’re staying at. Other schools like William Peace only charge a flat $130 for their parking decal, but most of the schools require you throw them an extra Apple Pencil or two for the privilege of being able to park your own vehicle close to the actual campus.

There are workarounds, like parking off-campus nearby, but those carry risks and penalties that can add up over time. The audacity these schools have to take thousands in tuition and then demand that you pay and additional fee to just use the parking lot.

Hopefully, though, regardless of my thoughts if you live in Raleigh or North Carolina in general and you’re considering attending one of the fine establishments here; I’ve provided you some food for thought.

College can be a scary experience for many, and the area around it can really make or break your experiences. We don’t have the biggest party schools or the most glamorous cityscape; but if I had to go through the collegiate system again I honestly couldn’t imagine doing it anywhere else.

Next time I’ll be talking about some alternatives to College though, so stay tuned for that.

Special shout out to the DSA of Raleigh as well. They didn’t help write any of this or communicate with me during the production of this article, but they’ve been doing some amazing work downtown with the homeless during the pandemic. They are some of the most amazingly hard working individuals who care immensely for the community and you can check them out on dsanc.org.

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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713

Have you ever read the Hunger Games series? Nah, that was put out when I started to not read anymore. I did see the first movie though since it was always being aired on TV. When was the last time you ran into something? Haven’t been doing a lot of running these days being stuck at home... but uh probably my dog? He’s always scattered in the most random spaces around the house, it’s so easy to literally stumble upon him. Do you enjoy dressing up? I don’t get to do it a lot but yeah sure. Do you live in the city or a rural area? I live in an urban area. Rizal is technically a province but it has some urban, more city-like parts – I live in one of them. The way provinces are in the country is generally nice for staycations but I can’t see myself living in them for good; there’s hardly any phone signal, they have none of the stuff I’m used to having in the city like malls and coffee shops, and there’s much less coverage for internet connection. Would you say you have a sense of style? Pretty much. I think it’s distinguishable enough that people can pick clothes they think I’d like off a rack.

What's your biggest fear? Cockroaches, failing, being publicly humiliated. Have you ever been bitten by a wild animal? Nope. Add that into one of my biggest fears. Are you close to any of your cousins? I’m closest to my Kuya, the eldest cousin on my mom’s side. I used to be close with my cousins on my dad’s side but since we’ve always lived far from each other we ended up getting awkward when we were teenagers and we haven’t moved past from that ever since. All my other cousins are too young for me to be close to. Have you ever been lost in the woods? Nope. Where did you last travel? I think my last out-of-town trip was when I went to Nasugbu with my friends as a last hurrah before the semester started last August. Do you enjoy driving? I would enjoy it more if traffic wasn’t so congested all the time, but generally I prefer knowing how to drive than not at all. I find it really convenient and I like being able to move at my own time, at my own pace. What song did you last listen to? Hahahaha don’t even be surprised anymore – it’s lofi city up in here, dude. If you have a job, how often do you work? What time do you normally go to sleep at night? These days, very late; my body clock has been beaten up bad (by me, lmao) in the last month. I’d normally turn in from 2-4 AM. Do you watch a lot of movies? I used to. Watching new movies was all I ever did circa 2014-2016, but life got a bit more hectic and my time for watching movies waned until I was never able to get back to my old routine and I just stopped watching altogether. These days I’m only able to watch new films if Gab asks me to tag along with her, like what happened with Midsommar, Knives Out, and Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Do you like Tom Petty? I only know him by name. I don’t have an opinion. Would you rather have snow or rain? I mean I’m just stuck with one of the choices anyway, so rain it is. Do you own a lot of sweaters? Nah I own zero. The only one I have belongs to my girlfriend. Have you ever tried rock-climbing? I’ve tried mini rock-climbing walls, but nothing too high or that required me to put on a helmet and harness. Ever ridden in a police car? Nope. Favorite decade of music? Idk I’ll have to go with the most recent one, 2010s. It was a period when I got old enough to 1) connect with the music coming out and 2) discern what to me sounds good and what doesn’t, and it was also a time where I got to establish what my general music tastes are. The 2000s to me mostly offers nostalgia but nothing outstanding, and I feel too detached from the other past decades for them to be my favorite. Have any of your best friends been your best friend longer than a year? I’ve had best friends I’ve kept for 15 years and 8 years. Ever witnessed a murder? No, but I came so close. One of our first news assignments was to cover a crime story, so on the first night a friend and I spent the night over at a local police station to wait for leads. There wasn’t any and on the second night, another pair of groupmates were tasked to wait at the same station to wait for reports – they were the pair that got a tip and they got to see a fresh crime scene :( which I know should be nothing to be envious of sksksk but still. If I remember correctly it was a stabbing incident and someone did die from it. Do you care what people think of you? I try not to but some opinions that reach me will still get to me, especially on rougher days. Does your room have a ceiling fan? No, just a standing electric fan. Would you consider yourself poised? Eh, it’s not the first word I’d use to describe me. If I’m feeling antsy you’d know it, because I would show it. Have you ever tried blogging? I have tried blogging, as early as when I was 10. I mainly used Blogspot as a diary, but it didn’t last long because 10 year old me just couldn’t keep the blog up and running. I discovered Tumblr when I was 11 and since then it’s been my main website for if I wanna blog (or in this case, microblog) about my interests. Favorite television channel? I haven’t watched TV in a looooooooong while. Have you ever lied under oath? I’ve never had to be under oath. What are your religious views? None. Are you a romantic person? Yeah but mostly in secret; I don’t like being too public when it comes to being expressive. Like I’d swat my girlfriend’s face away if she tries to kiss me in public lmaooooo but when it’s just the two of us I’ve gotten her love language down to a T and I know exactly what to do to make her feel loved. When did you last change your bed sheets? A few weeks ago. My eye started getting irritated whenever I was anywhere near my bed, so I chalked it up to having sheets that needed to be changed. Would you consider yourself a flirt? That would be the literal last thing to describe me. At what age do you plan to be married? Somewhere between 27-29. Do you eat a lot of junk food? Meh not really these days. I’m old enough to start feeling how unhealthy they are whenever I eat them and they no longer feel filling to the stomach either. When did you last go on vacation? Half a year ago. We haven’t been able to go on vacations this year because of coronavirus obviously, so our last trips have been on my dad’s last break at home. Are you resilient? I’d like to think so. I’ve been through so much shit and of varying degrees all my life but I’m still stubbornly here. Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve never failed an entire class but I’ve failed exams, mostly math-related ones. If so, what was the class? My first failed class was math in Grade 4 (which was when we started learning super super super basic algebra), then I failed a number of algebra exams in 1st year, and then advanced algebra and geometry, and I think even chemistry and calculus, as the years went on. Do you wear more bright or dull colors? I used to wear duller colors, but I’ve recently been so bored with how my wardrobe has been mostly black and white throughout my stay in college that I started to make an effort to buy more colorful stuff so I can look livelier. Do you know anyone who has attempted suicide? I know a number of people. What's your favorite quote? I don’t really have one but one of my favorite movie lines is “How you like them apples?” from Good Will Hunting, if that counts. Would you consider yourself mature? Sure. I like taking on a motherly role in all my friend groups. How many clocks are in your house? I only regularly encounter the one in our dining area but I dunno if any of the bedrooms have clocks as well. Do you play any sports? Table tennis. What is your biggest life regret? Eh I say this a lot but only because it’s my one big regret – I wish I didn’t have such a hard time adjusting and spend so much time wallowing in self-pity in my first year (and part of my second year) of college. I spent all my days crying in my car because I had nowhere to hang and no one to talk to, and I was feeling worse by the fact that everyone else seemed to settle in with ease. I wish I had just said ‘fuck it’ earlier and just joined orgs and talked to people. Now I don’t really get to say that my entire college experience had been one of a kind, because I was mostly only trying to keep myself alive for nearly the first half of it. Have you ever been injured in a car accident? Nah not injured, but I’ve been caught in a couple of accidents. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? I would love to be in a Tim Hortons right now, studying while having their coffee and one of their wraps. Have you ever had highlights in your hair? Never. I’m not allowed to, which is fine because I stopped wanting to dye my hair. Favorite fast food restaurant? KFC has the best fast food but not the best restaurant. I don’t think I enjoy eating at any of the fast food restaurants we have because they all smell like a bunch of people have come and gone in the place D: In what country were you born? Philippines. Born and raised. Are your eyes more than one color? Nope. Have you ever caught something on fire? No but I’ve seen someone else get something on fire – back in Grade 4, my science teacher was showing us how a Bunsen burner works and a classmate (and tbh the class troublemaker) named Kressel tipped it over while the teacher wasn’t looking. We were too young to know what to do about it – and we were also all panicking on the inside and none of us could move – so we just watched part of the table getting burned away. What would you consider your biggest flaw? I’m very sensitive and I take a lot of things personally. What do you think your best quality is? Kinda conneected to that. I can read people quite well and can tell when they’re feeling too sensitive, if a joke has gotten too far for them, or if they’re starting to feel uncomfortable in a group setting. Do you enjoy listening to others' problems? *Enjoy* might not be the right word for it – I don’t derive pleasure out of hearing the things making my friends stressed out. I do like being the person they turn to; I like knowing they trust me.

Do you keep any plants in your house? My parents do. Sometimes they’ll ask me to water them, but I don’t claim any of the plants as mine. What is your mother's occupation? She’s confidential secretary to one of the higher-ups in her workplace. Do any of your friends like your musical style? I’m not the first person they’d go to to ask for song recommendations. My taste is admittedly a bit blah and basic, so I don’t blame them haha. What are you most looking forward to? I wanna say this quarantine ending, but I know resuming life in the real world would also be making me anxious when the time comes. I guess I’m most excited for seeing Gabie again, because I haven’t seen March 7th. What was your favorite television show as a child? My first favorite show ever that I was also super attached to was Hi-5 with the original cast – this was for kindergarten days. When I got a bit older I loved Spongebob, then when I got even a bit older than that I started liking Drake and Josh, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, That’s So Raven, and Hannah Montana. My first favorite that didn’t come from a kids’ channel was probs Breaking Bad. Are you afraid of insects? Yeah, most of them. Are you cold-natured? Idk if this wants to ask me if I’m snobbish or if I get cold too quickly, but I’m gonna go right ahead and say I can be a bit of both. How old were you when you got your first pet? I was 5 or 6 when I got my first few goldfish. Our house back then was very crowded and wouldn’t have been conducive to pets that would walk around, plus I had never owned pets before, so my parents thought it would be best for me to start off with fish. Did you / do you enjoy high school? It was okay for the latter half. What would you say was your favorite age? 16, which also happened to be the start of the second half of high school. There wasn’t a single low point that year and I had great friends, great grades, and an overall great time in junior year. What annoys you most about social networking? Ehh there are different annoying things for each of the big social media sites. Twitter sucks for its cancel/public shaming culture; Facebook suffers from fake news and troll armies, and conservative relatives are often there to gossip about your posts or your stances (at least for us Asians, idk if family in other cultures can be just as nosey); and Instagram is just unbelievably fake to me that I’ve never even tried joining there to socialize.

Are you the center of attention most of the time? No. Whenever I feel like I am I always shift the spotlight to someone else. What are you currently reading? I’m not reading anything at the moment. When did you last go to the library? At the start of the year, when I had to borrow a book for my Rizal class. Are you ill at the moment? Nope, and remaining not ill would be the best situation for now given the current circumstances. Do people tease you about anything? My friends know I’m a little sensitive so they’re careful about making me the butt of their jokes for too long, but I do get teased for my lack of street smarts which I’m fine with because it’s true hahahahahaha. How late did you stay up last night and why? Not too late considering how late I stay up these days – just around midnight. My left eye acted up again, was tearing up like crazy, and I could barely open it without starting to feel pain so I just went ahead and got some sleep. Have you ever written poetry? Only when we had to in English classes or if we had to submit entries for my org’s literary folio. I’ve never voluntarily written poems. Curtains or shades? Shades. How many people have you spoken to in the last hour? Six, I think? - my dad, sister, cousin, Gab, Andrew, and Angela. Do you tend to text a lot? These days no because I haven’t had (and needed) cellphone load in the last month lmao. Normally though I do. Ever lost a great best friend? Yeah. Sofie and I drifted apart when we started college and the time apart made me realize that we simply had two entirely different personalities and there was no way we would have kept up the friendship considering how far we would be from each other once college started. But it was a nice couple of years that we had being best friends and I don’t regret the antics we got into together. What is your favorite kind of flower? Peonieeeeees my god his question is everywhere. Do you own any guns? No, and I can tell you people where I’m from generally find America’s gun fixation really weird. What would you say is your favorite book of all-time? I think it’d be unfair to tag something as all-time favorite when I haven’t read enough books... but I remember really enjoying Without Seeing the Dawn by Stevan Javellana. Never mind the fact that it was required reading for school; I genuinely loved the whole book and ate it up pretty quickly. Do you think you're living a good life? I guess, but I’d much rather call it ‘fortunate.’ What's your least favorite part of the day? On a normal schedule that would be once my alarm hits and I know I have to get out of bed and anticipate the traffic I’ll be stuck in.

Are you an over-achiever? Not in the sense that I like joining competitions and winning every single one of them, but I like calling dibs on a lot of tasks no matter how booked I am, and even doing the tasks of others if I sense that they’re not moving. Have you ever won an award for a speech? I haven’t, but I’ve been in a public speaking competition. I let my anxiety get the best of me that day and I ended up rambling midway into my speech, so now thinking about it is something that makes me wince these days because I know I could have done a lot better. Do you tend to curse a lot? Not as much as when I was a teenager but I’ll still slip some shits and fucks in my sentences every now and then. Have you ever played on the Ouija board? No. And I think that if it does happen, as much as I love the concept of Ouija boards, I’ll be too scared to join the session haha. Do you sleepwalk? Nope. Have you ever slept on the floor before? I’ve never slept on the FLOOR floor. I’ve slept on floors but there was always a mattress to lie on to feel comfortable, ya feel. Are you a fan of public displays of affection? It’s easy not to mind simple acts like holding hands or forehead kisses, but it can get uncomfortable if a couple is clearly in the moment and is like literally making out on the escalator or talking like babies to one another but loud enough for others to hear. Either way though I wouldn’t call myself an active fan. When did you last attend a yard sale? Idk dude, 12 years ago I’d say. Do you wish your life were simpler or more interesting? More interesting. What goals do you wish to accomplish tomorrow? None. I just want to care for myself these days dude. And remind myself that it’s okay to not feel like being productive. When is your birthday? Exactly a week from now – April 21st. Which is worse: going blind or deaf? Blind for me. There’s a lot of stuff and places I have yet to see and new experiences that I wanna be able to digest by seeing them, like getting to the top of a mountain or seeing my future kid. What was the best part of today? Eh, today’s been uneventful at best. Do you attempt to stay away from drama? I don’t want to be the subject of drama but if there’s drama involving other people and my friends got a hold of it, I would honestly find it hard to ignore it. What liquid did you last drink? Water. Do you ever prefer to be alone? I have moods where I’d want to be alone, but it doesn’t happen all the time. I still like being around people because it keeps me from being alone with my thoughts. Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? No. Favorite Disney movie? Toy Story. Tangled comes at a verrrrrrrrrry close second. Have you ever been to the beach? Yes. I think since 2009 we’ve been going to the beach at least once a year. If you have, how many times have you been? ^ Considering that estimation I’ve been to the beach a minimum 11 times, but it’s definitely a lot more than that since there’ve been times where we went to beaches multiple times in a single year. What was your dream occupation at age ten? I wanted to be an author then. Are you terrified at the idea of weight-gain? No. I’m a little underweight so I'm okay with welcoming a few extra pounds. Do you drink a lot of water? I don’t take eight glasses a day but I still drink relatively more than my friends and relatives do, who seem to like iced tea and soda more. Does your room have carpet or hard-wood floors? Hardwood, as with most (maybe even all) Filipino houses. Do you take naps daily? No, not daily. I probably take 3-4 afternoon naps every week.

Who were you named after? My parents say I was named after the Swedish singer Robyn, but they also tell me a conflicting story in that they just liked how the name sounds and went with it. Do you plan on traveling this spring or summer? In the current state of the world? No can do chief. I wanna be able to travel once this shitstorm is over though. Do you know anyone who is colorblind? I don’t think so. Have you ever been a teacher's pet? For some classes, but they’ve been very few and far between. I don’t consciously make myself the teacher’s pet in all my classes. What is your absolute favorite hobby? Eating out/trying new food! How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once or twice. Ever been to a tanning bed before? I have not. I don’t need to. Are you satisfied with your financial stability? I don’t even have finances sksksksksksksks Who is your favorite actor / actress? Kate Winslet. Are your nails painted? Nope. What's the meanest thing you've ever said to someone? I make it a point not to say mean things to anyone because words stick. I learned that from a young age which, aside from how fucked up that is, is still a good thing, because it taught me early on to be careful with my anger. Do you ever accidentally talk to inanimate objects? I don’t do it accidentally lmao I just apologize to most of the objects I bump into. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream? Cookies and cream. Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Regularly. Do you receive any hate mail? No but that’s because I actively avoid having outlets for that. Anonymous hate would only make me paranoid and will probs drive me madly insecure in the wrong run. Have you ever sent a letter in the mail? Nope. If you could, would you have a pen pal? Meh, I’ll pass. I find instant messaging a lot more convenient and I doubt I’d have the patience for keeping a pen pal. What color are the pants you're wearing? I have brown shorts, not pants. Have you ever had a stalker? Nope. What is your life philosophy? You don’t have to be blood to be family. Who last sent you a goodnight text message? Gabie. Do you own any clothes that are your favorite color? Very few, because pink actually doesn’t suit me. Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Sure. What's your favorite comedy movie? White Chicks. In which year were you born? 1998.

#survey #surveys

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sage-nebula · 6 years

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🌟💙🌻☕️

🌟 what do you like about yourself? (must choose at least 3 things!)

You know, there was a time even very recently when I would have really struggled to come up with things. I’m going to make a longer post on this at some point in the next couple of days (probably Monday afternoon or evening) and so I won’t get into the whole spiel now, but I’ve been thinking a lot about thigs recently, and while there might be a couple factors to go into why I’ve been thinking and feeling this way, the point is that I’ve come to realize that the struggle I’ve had with finding things to like about myself is not a struggle that I should be having. There’s absolutely no reason for it. There’s no reason why I should refuse to see the good in myself.

So with that said, three things I like about myself are:

I’m smart. You know what? I am. Sure, I have a learning disability when it comes to mathematics, and there are certain things I don’t know, but even the smartest people in the world have things they don’t know. The point is, even setting aside my education, there are a lot of things I do know. And more importantly, when I don’t know something, I know how to learn it. I’m resourceful, I’m critical of my sources, I’m open-minded, and I can be clever, too. I’m of course not saying I’m a genius, but I am smart, and much more so than I’ve been giving myself credit for in recent years.

I’m compassionate, and do my best to be kind. Again, just like I wasn’t saying I’m a genius, I’m not saying I’m the sweetest or kindest person to walk the planet. In fact, I can be pretty sarcastic and biting at times. But my first instinct when meeting a stranger is to be kind to them (especially if they’re working some kind of customer service position). And I am compassionate; it’s not difficult for me to feel for others, often times even when they’ve wronged me. (For instance: When I was a kid my cousin erased my Pokémon Yellow file, which I had worked on for years, and saved it over it with her own. I only discovered this when I found the game cartridge in her room after she’d lied to me about having it. When I confronted her, she burst into tears, and even though I was still pretty upset about losing the team I’d spent years building up, I ended up comforting her because I felt bad that she was crying. I mean, this is a mild example of a thing that happened, but at the time it was a really big deal to me since I was only ten (she was nine), and so I think it still counts.) Just like it makes me feel good whenever I figure something out, I also feel good when I make others smile, or brighten their day somehow. I like that I’m able to do that.

I’m independent, and incredibly determined. While it’s absolutely true that a big chunk of my independent streak comes from my past traumas, as well as the fact that the combination of my independence and determination has gotten me in trouble a few times (in that I have an extremely hard time asking for help and thus have sometimes waited until it’s pretty much too late for others to help me), it’s also something that I still take pride in. I’ve lived on my own and supported myself since I was twenty-two years old. I own my own place, my own car, my own everything. I ride the financial struggle bus every single month (like, I’m legit always broke, there’s no getting around it lmao), and I struggle a lot in many areas of my life, but I’m still independent in every sense of the word, and even when there are times when I feel like giving up, I don’t. Or at least, I haven’t yet. I am filled with determination, and I do like that about myself, that no matter how many times I get knocked down, I continue to get back up, I continue to persist. I think that’s a good quality.

💙 what annoys you about some people?

Oh good, this gives me an opportunity to rant about something horrible I’ve noticed so many people doing in recent months. Everyone reading this? Consider this a PSA:

If you live in a suburban or urban area, there is NO GODDAMN REASON ON THIS PLANET TO HAVE YOUR BRIGHTS ON.

You have NO IDEA how horrible this is, and lately EVERYONE has been doing it! FREAKING EVERYONE!! I don’t understand it, I really don’t. There are lights everywhere. Obviously you have to have your normal headlights on, that’s basic, but there is absolutely no reason to use the high beams. Do you know what high beams are for? Do you? If not, let me tell you: High beams are for when you’re out in rural areas where there are no streetlights and it’s difficult to see very far ahead of you. You use high beams just in case there are deer, animals, or some other obstacles up ahead, so that you can have enough time to slow down. But even then, if you’re out in rural areas, you’re supposed to turn the high beams off if you see another car coming toward you on the other side of the road, or if you’re driving right behind someone. Even in rural areas, there are limits. But in a suburban or urban area? There is NO REASON to use them. You SHOULD NOT use them. Because if you use them, you’re blinding whoever is driving toward you, and you’re also blinding whoever you’re driving behind because your high beams shine right into their rearview and side mirrors and blind the ever loving fuck out of them.

And yet everyone. Is. Using. Their. High. Beams. Lately. And. I. Don’t. Know. Why.

But I also don’t care why because it’s blinding me every single goddamn night when I drive home from work. The worst part? Since it’s summer now the sun doesn’t set until around 9pm, and so when I drive home from work the sun is still out, so headlights aren’t really needed at all, and yet people still have their brights on anyway. Literally, I had to leave work an hour early on Friday because one of my reps came in sick and passed it on to me, so it was about 6pm when I was driving home, the sun was out enough so that headlights weren’t needed at all, and yet at least three people still blinded me with their high beams. Why? Why?! What godforsaken reason do you have to have your high beams on when the sun is out? I’ll tell you: NONE! There is NO REASON! STOP DOING IT!!

…

In conclusion, some people drive with their brights on in suburban / urban areas, even when the sun is out, and blind me while I’m trying to drive, and I really, really wish they would just knock it off, because it’s wholly unnecessary and also really horrible. Thank you.

🌻 if you could change 3 things about the world what would you change?

If I could go for broke and change things on a cosmic scale?

I’d make it so that no one intentionally hurt each anyone else anymore. Look, it’s probably way too idealistic to assume that everyone could ever like each other. Even setting aside things like bigotry (which ideally I’d like to wipe out tbh) or whatever else, sometimes personalities just clash. It happens, you know, and that’s fine. No one has to like everyone else. There’s never going to be a law, cosmic or otherwise, that says that everyone has to like every other person they ever meet. If you dislike someone, that’s fine. That’s really fine, but just …Leave them alone. It’s fine to dislike people, but there’s no reason to hurt others for it. There’s no reason to hurt others, or infringe on their rights, or do anything else like that. You dislike someone? That’s fine. Leave them be. You go live your life, and let them live their lives, and never interact with each other ever. It’s really that simple, or at least, it should be. I’m not asking for a big world filled with sunshine and rainbows, I’m just asking for people to leave each other alone instead of hurting and killing each other. Stop threatening others, stop hurting others. You don’t have to be perfect or even wonderful, just be decent, that’s all I ask.So yeah, that would be step one. I’d make it so that no one intentionally hurt anyone else anymore. No more wonton violence or life ruining. None of that. Live and let live.(And btw, this also goes for things like child abuse, animal abuse, etc. No more abuse, no more murder, no more rape, et cetera. None of that. Cut it out, knock it off. If I can snap my fingers and it will be done, then this is done. No more pain like this. No more.)

Make it so that everyone has enough money to live comfortably, and no one is crushed under debt anymore. Again, this is a cosmic scale thing, right? I can snap my fingers and it’s done with no repercussions? Then this is step two. No more wondering how you’re going to get food for the week, or how you can even possibly think about paying your bills when you have those loan payments due. No one dying out on the streets because they’re homeless, no one forgoing medical care because they can’t afford it. I’m not saying everyone has to be billionaires, but just enough so that they can live a decent life with their families. Of course people will still have to work because we have things that need to be done (e.g. janitors and doctors are both very important for health reasons), but at the same time no one will have to worry about work and whether they’ll be able to feed their kids or pets. Everyone’s living a comfortable life, and anything they get on top of that is extra. (Or at the very least? Set everyone on the planet to a financial baseline and place of stability with a home and whatnot, and then maybe they’re not getting a free stream of cash from the ether, but also they’re starting at a place of comfort so what they earn from working can go into savings and stuff. Just wipe the slate clean and start everyone from a base again. I think that would work.)

… I want pokémon to be real. Look, if I can snap my fingers and make it happen … if I can make anything happen … then after I stop wonton violence from happening, and after I make sure everyone is taken care of financially, I should get to reward myself with a charizard. I feel like that’s fair. I did two good things for everyone else, and you know what, this also is good for everyone else, because nothing is stopping others from having pokémon, too. This benefits everyone, so there. It’s totally, 100% fair.

☕️ talk about your ideal day

Haha, it’s really simple, to be honest! I wake up feeling refreshed and content, if not happy. Have something tasty for breakfast, like cinnamon rolls, maybe. It’s a Saturday or a Sunday (preferably Saturday), so I don’t have to work, and the weather is nice so I can take Morgan on a nice walk. I don’t have any obligations, so I can spend the day playing video games, writing, or otherwise just relaxing. In the afternoon / evening I get to talk to my bff @severalbakuras for a few hours before she goes to bed, and I make something delicious for dinner. Pretty basic stuff, really! I don’t want very much. I just want to be able to relax and be happy.

#emoji meme #tailsimp

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josiebelladonna · 4 years

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i’ve been asked about this twice now and i think it’s time to explain it out:

the latest round of safety power shut-offs have proven to me and everyone else who lives in california that there is nothing about them that concerns safety. it was hard to take them seriously when they first began last fall - and the power was out for 36 hours straight where i live, and the santa ana winds lasted all of half a day.

these power shut-offs that we have out here in california are unnecessary once you consider that a company like edison have spent millions of dollars towards maintaining their equipment, bringing in new power poles (which are fire-resistant mind you) and brand new transformers, doing everything that pg&e neglected to do prior to the camp fire that burned the town of paradise to the ground in 2018. these shut-offs are a reaction to neglect that has nothing to do with them at all. it was understandable when pg&e undertook it last fall in norcal, but for edison to do it after all the maintenance their workers perform makes it pointless really fast.

i should mention, they didn’t happen when the thomas and woolsey fires burned a few years back, and the winds down in ventura, santa barbara, and malibu were fucking awful. single digit humidity and 60 miles an hour in some of the canyons: granted, it wasn’t that hot given it was this time of year. and sure, the thomas fire was caused by an electrical arc with two cables hitting each other in the wind and arcing (but the shut-off on black friday, while i was walking my dog, i looked up and saw the cables weren’t even moving). the woolsey fire was caused by a malfunctioning transformer. and since then, they’ve devoted all the money to maintaining and fixing things since 2017.

moreover, once you consider what the santa ana winds (diablo winds in norcal) are like, dry high winds that come down from the great basin in nevada and utah, and in this time of year have wind chills of at most freezing - the ones we experienced the other night had chills down in the single digits - it becomes a little difficult to understand why they’re worrying so much about a new round of poles falling over and causing an electric fire like what happened in paradise. i get the logic completely, but after everything i just said, it becomes hard to understand what the worry even is, especially since this never happened prior to 2019, and it’s indicative of distrust. distrust in your equipment and your workers and most of all, the very communities you’re serving.

communities and cities are run primarily by electricity: you can have propane or natural gas and they’d still be rendered useless without power. when you live in a rural area like i do, it’s hard to live off the grid even though there are several power across town with solar panels and wind turbines. my neighbors have generators, but a common complaint i saw was they don’t have enough juice to turn on a heater. so in the event of a cold windstorm like the one we had the other night, the day after thanksgiving, and few others last fall that warranted the first rounds plus the 36-hour one, you have whole communities who can’t access their natural gas or heat (given most people don’t have fireplaces), need to ration food and water because their refrigerators can’t run - and in the case with my house, we can’t get the filtered water our of the fridge, and while the tap water here is drinkable, i wouldn’t recommend it - and given the concurrence of the pandemic, you have people with all this time on their hands and are probably already on the brink of insanity if the george floyd protests this past summer are anything to go by.

when these shut-offs first happened last fall, i saw comments from people saying they couldn’t do laundry or take showers before work, or their week’s worth of groceries went bad because of the lack of refrigeration. one person i saw was literally trapped out of their own house because the electric locks didn’t work. you also have patients, people in electric wheelchairs or undergo things like dialysis at home, and without power, they’re stuck and they can’t get treatment.

edison’s response to it all? “oh, well.”

to make matters worse: their alert system is GARBAGE. the last two, their version of a head’s-up went something like this: “we might do a safety shut-off tonight or tomorrow night or the night after or we might not do it at all given changing weather conditions. we also won’t tell you when we’re turning it back on because wind.” at least the first time it happened, they gave us an alert to go by but i remember when it happened, it was about twenty minutes later. no time to prepare whatsoever even though they tell you to have a plan.

what’s even worse: the place i live is a trump bastion. i saw a few comments from this past one saying they’re preparing us for socialism, which is fucking stupid because the fact a power company even exists is a work of socialism. it’s capitalism at its absolute worst: pissing away millions upon millions of dollars for no goddamn reason, and these people have bought into the delusion that we all deserve it because california is a blue state. these people are enabling this to happen. inadvertently, but they’re enabling it because these started last year, well before the heat of the election blindsided us all.

another thing that gets me about it all is they didn’t do these over the summer. they first started last october when things were starting to cool down and we already had a bit of rain come in. and this past summer was utterly torrid (hey, death valley?), and without question the worst fire season ever, given everything was dry beyond belief and the winds were blowing like crazy. and yet, at the same time, all those fires weren’t even from power lines, they were from lightning. and say what you will about that, at least that has a purpose. i think one was, but it lasted all of a few days. they didn’t do them last summer, either, even though it was hotter than holy hell and fire danger was through the roof.

(i should also mention that even with the last shut-off, a fire actually started down in orange county, and no, it wasn’t electrical).

so even if you look at the above and ask, “why is it such a loaded subject?” that should tell you. they make no sense at all no matter how you look at it. these have never happened before and it really has nothing to do with them, given pg&e are the real monsters here.

these power shut-offs, aside from being incredibly pointless, are cruel and inhumane. i even told them the other night after our power came back, “you people are sick.” sick and tone-deaf and not to mention, careless. they don’t want to be liable for another paradise, but something tells me they’ll be liable for other things. plenty of other things.

#rant #essays #california #california blackouts #rolling blackouts #california dreaming #power shutoffs #text #southern california #southern california edison #pg&e #santa ana winds #california artist

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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Cooking Solo in the Woods

When an escape to a rural Vermont cabin means scenic beauty, isolation, and hopefully outrunning the stubborn ghost of a five-pound roast chicken that’s been haunting you for weeks

Clio Chang is a freelance writer based in Brooklyn. When not traveling alone, she covers politics, culture, and more.

One night, early in quarantine, I roasted a whole chicken. I had just isolated myself in a friend’s empty one-bedroom apartment, away from my roommates, and was celebrating living alone, however temporarily, for the first time in my life. I bought a five-pound honker, lugged it home in my straining bike bag, and prepared it the same way I usually did: I went heavy on the salt and pepper; skipped the trussing because literally what am I, a chef; threw the chicken over some vegetables; and shoved the whole thing in the oven for a couple of hours. It wasn’t until I sat down to carve and eat it that I realized what I had done. I had made five whole pounds of chicken, plus a Thanksgiving meal’s worth of roasted vegetables, for just one person.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one. As I quickly found out, it’s far easier to make too much rather than just enough. And guests will usually lie and tell you something tastes good, on top of bringing over beer and wine to wash down whatever you make.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one.

I ate that chicken for weeks. I ate it in sandwiches, I ate it on ramen, I ate it straight out of the refrigerator when I excused myself from a Zoom hang to “grab a beer.” I made broth from the bones, even though I don’t really like broth, because honestly, what better things did I have to do? Eating chicken and chicken byproducts became my job, which I did better than my actual job, from which I was later laid off. And yet I still had chicken left over, a Strega Nona-style cursed reminder that not only was I alone, I was alone alone.

Months later, as I set off for my first trip outside of New York City in four months, I was still thinking about my isolation chicken. I hadn’t left Brooklyn since March, aside from two stints into Manhattan for protests and noodles, and I had imagined it would feel like a satisfying, full-body stretch. It would be my first time driving a car in months, my first time moving more than 30 miles per hour, my first time seeing the green rolling hills that lined the highways on the way to my destination, a small A-frame cabin in the mountains of Vermont that I’d found at the last minute on Airbnb. But all I could really think about was the chicken.

Out of Brooklyn, into the idyllic wilds of Vermont

My goal was to take a vacation — to escape, even for a brief moment — as safely as possible during the pandemic. I would be doing the trip solo, which might feel less like a break and more like a test. I would be taking time for myself after months of having more time to myself than I’d had in my entire life. Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

But I was determined to enjoy my four days off. After all, my world was going to suddenly expand in an explosive way: I would get to see regional billboards, smell the forest air, hear the sounds of nothing at night. I resolved to not ruin it by creating another monster; a constant, edible reminder of the fact that I could not share a space or a table or a trip with my family and friends.

Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

The day I left, Brooklyn was in the middle of a heat wave with little reprieve, and the air was swollen and heavy. Because I was going from a high-density area to a low-density area, I resolved to buy all of my groceries before I got out of the city, stopping at H-Mart on the way. I’d had “make a grocery list” on my to-do list for days, but the ghost of my chickens past did not help me overcome my extreme laziness, and I did not, in fact, “make a grocery list.” With no plan, I ended up buying a random assortment of foods, including four pieces of cooked mackerel, one steak, one conch, 12 clams, a packet of matcha sponge cake, king oyster mushrooms, and the kind of eggplant that is both long and sexy. As I walked out of the grocery store, I passed a Trader Joe’s that had an endless line of people waiting six feet apart to enter. I felt smugly superior until I got to the car and realized that my impulse mackerel purchase was stinking up the whole backseat. A friend, of course, would have gently advised against the idea.

A campfire for one

Lunch at the lake, accompanied by the promise of a lazy summer afternoon

The only thing I hate more than being alone is coordinating with others, so I’ve ended up on many solo trips. Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people. Any solo vacation movie will tell you this: In Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, Lily James (as a young Meryl Streep) goes off to Greece alone, only to meet and befriend the three men who become co-fathers of her child, one to two Greek people, and a horse. The movie ends with James singing a number with all of her new friends and family, including Meryl Streep (as an old Lily James).

And then there’s Under the Tuscan Sun, which revolves around a recently divorced Diane Lane, sent by friends to go alone on a gay tour of romantic Tuscany. Lane, who is straight, gamely dons a hat that reads “Gay & Away,” and by the end of the movie she ends up with a new house filled to the brim with the patchwork family she has collected on her trip. One of the Polish workers Lane hires to renovate her house sums up her situation most succinctly when he asks her to join them for dinner: “It’s unhealthy to eat alone.”

This trail, while lovely, did not lead to the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Movies tend to exaggerate, but on my own solo vacations, I almost always manage to con someone into being my friend, even if just for a day. But this type of antisocial trip, where I wouldn’t interact with anyone, was new for me. (This particular region of Vermont was also new to me, although one friend helpfully told me that my cabin was two towns away from where she played high school soccer.) I got tested for COVID-19 a week before the trip, but because the results hadn’t arrived when I left, I decided to be extra cautious and avoid seeing anyone when I arrived at my destination. I passed farm stands, imagining all the chats I could have with Polish workers, and spurned pit stops for coffee, thus eliminating the possibility of meeting the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Because I was literally not here to make friends, I ended up inventing them. When I was about an hour from my destination, my car kept flashing an image of a coffee mug and asking me, Do you want to take a break? I thought this was both rude and forward. But I found myself saying back, “No, haha, I’m fine,” somewhat fondly. Ten minutes later, as I craned my neck to look at a billboard advertising fine homemade furniture, my car started screaming “BRAKE! BRAKE!!” I also started screaming and we screamed and slammed on the brake together to avoid hitting the car in front of us, which had slowed down to turn. “Car is friend,” I thought to myself.

Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people.

When I got to the cabin and stepped outside the car, I was immediately met with a wall of crisp Vermont air. Over the next three days, I would spend most of my time hiking alone, reading under a small covered porch when it rained, or curled up in bed watching TikToks until late in the morning. Away from New York, my new surroundings were a balm, and I found myself wishing I could share them. I showed off the lush trees to friends over FaceTime, and breathed in enough air for a small city. But I resisted the urge to connect: When I trekked to a small, remote pond, I walked a wide circle around the group of teenage boys wrestling to see who could more casually throw themselves off the cliff into the water below. I stuffed away my instinct to talk to anyone, and for a small, brief moment, while I sat in the sun by the water, I felt my brain unspool with the promise of a lazy summer afternoon.

The majority of my time, though, was spent cooking. In the small cabin kitchen I made Taiwanese night market-style king oyster mushrooms, brushing them in a chile soy sauce as they grilled and tossing them with Thai basil and garlic. I made H-Mart marinated short ribs with sauteed Chinese mustard greens on the side. I cooked down the sexy eggplant with a simple teriyaki sauce made from garlic, sugar, and soy sauce, making extra to drizzle over $6 worth of flank steak for one. I also wanted to make pasta al vongole, but realized I had only bought racchette pasta — the type shaped like a tiny tennis racquet for a Hamptons mouse — because I thought it had “vacation” vibes at the time. So I ended up with a dish of clams over tennis racquets.

When your dream of pasta al vongole materializes as a dish of clams over tennis racquets

As the cabin’s only cook and diner and Yelp reviewer, I was acutely over-aware of the quality of every item of food that I made, relishing dishes when I pulled them off and despairing when I made mistakes. The memory of my isolation chicken lingered on the edges of the kitchen — as I cooked, I was careful to curb my impulse to make all the food at once, and instead cut down my portions to a manageable amount for one person. Everything took more time to make and plan than I expected, especially since I was unable to find any Tupperware in the cabin, which meant I was preparing three new meals every day. Unlike at home, I’d have to throw away whatever food I didn’t use. And so I became my own wretched Tupperware, overindulging on each dish.

Yet even though I did everything well, more or less, I still found myself tired of prepping food, cooking it, and cleaning the dishes. Completely removed from my community at home, all of this labor on behalf of myself only became more obvious. I thought about how I used to sit on the floor of my friends’ living rooms, gossiping with their discombobulated voices as they made me dinner in their kitchens. I missed the dishes that my mother would sneak hot peppers into because I “had to learn” how to tolerate spice. I thought about my favorite nights at restaurants, like the time when the table next to us got up and left and our waiter hurried over to inform us that yes, that was, in fact, the Carlos Santana.

I was also upset with myself for thinking these thoughts during a global recession when so many were struggling to feed themselves at all, and for feeling worn out by cooking for myself every day when so many were making food for entire families. I knew these feelings of guilt were useless on their own.

But what I was grasping for wasn’t really a reprieve from cooking. Rather, I missed the person I was around others. Ruth Reichl recently wrote about a night at a Paris restaurant when the maitre d’ whisked away her 8-year-old son to take part in games being organized for the neighborhood children. When her son returned, he told Reichl that he thought it was “a very fine restaurant,” to which she replied that he’d only tried the french fries and cake. “C’mon mom,” her son replied. “You know restaurants aren’t really about the food.” Those words stuck in my head for weeks. It turns out that it’s only really just about the food when you’re cooking for one.

The cabin’s kitchen, small but functional aside from its lack of Tupperware

In my isolation, I also began thinking about the idea of leisure time — specifically, the pervasive American ethos that holds that time off is an extravagance that must be earned. It’s so deeply ingrained that I even felt a pause taking my vacation, as if time off is a scarce natural resource, as if time alone is selfish. But though isolating myself further seemed somewhat redundant, taking a break had made me feel more settled and clear-headed, a feeling that should be more available, not less.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home. There’s something to learn from the countries where our solo vacation movie protagonists escape to — in both Greece and Italy, workers are entitled to 20 days minimum paid vacation every year, while in the United States, workers are guaranteed no paid vacation at all. If there is one thing in Under the Tuscan Sun that makes complete sense, it’s that Diane Lane never returns home.

On the day I left Vermont, I was so sick of planning and preparing food that I ended up eating a breakfast of matcha sponge cake and packed a lunch for the road, also of matcha sponge cake.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home.

As I started the four-hour drive to the city, I felt strangely anxious to get back. I thought about how my generation was once credited with killing both the restaurant industry and vacations, and I laughed imagining someone trying to make that argument now, as our government allowed the pandemic to destroy small businesses and communities with abandon. Even though it would be a long while until I could cook a roast chicken for my family, or meet a friend for drinks at a bar, I knew that being closer to my own community and the businesses I love still felt better than being farther away.

During those four days in Vermont, I found that there was a difference between being alone within a community and isolated from it. In the course of all my complaining, I had forgotten about the times when my friends and I would bring beers or snacks or order a pizza to hang on a stoop or at a park, or the day when my mom taught us how to make scallion pancakes over video chat. I forgot that while I was eating my big chicken, I was often chatting with friends and family over the phone, making that chicken as much a comfort as it was a curse. Even though we constantly had to negotiate with ourselves and each other — eating six feet away, bringing our own glasses, taking dinners to Zoom — we found ways to connect. There are other ways to share a table; by figuring out how, we will be able to start picking up the pieces again.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3kYVXTn https://ift.tt/32axcuI

When an escape to a rural Vermont cabin means scenic beauty, isolation, and hopefully outrunning the stubborn ghost of a five-pound roast chicken that’s been haunting you for weeks

Clio Chang is a freelance writer based in Brooklyn. When not traveling alone, she covers politics, culture, and more.

People often feel daunted making big meals to entertain guests, but the hardest task is cooking for one.

Out of Brooklyn, into the idyllic wilds of Vermont

Why would I want additional time in my own brain, which was already filled with manufactured chicken anxieties?

A campfire for one

Lunch at the lake, accompanied by the promise of a lazy summer afternoon

This trail, while lovely, did not lead to the ghost of Meryl Streep.

Contrary to their premise, solo vacations don’t usually entail being truly alone — in traveling on your own, you open yourself to meeting new people.

When your dream of pasta al vongole materializes as a dish of clams over tennis racquets

The cabin’s kitchen, small but functional aside from its lack of Tupperware

On the day I left Vermont, I was so sick of planning and preparing food that I ended up eating a breakfast of matcha sponge cake and packed a lunch for the road, also of matcha sponge cake.

If anything, the pandemic should remind us that everyone deserves leisure time, even if it must be in solitude or at home.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3kYVXTn via Blogger https://ift.tt/31acGLo

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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ridingthatbike · 7 years

Text

On giving up (or is it listening?)

I set a 2018 goal of going camping at least once a month, year round. I’m 0 for 2, in my attempts so far. I’m still counting them, because I think the attempt is the important aspect in the winter months. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. I don’t like quitting but I am getting better at it (or at least, I am doing it more often). Back in January, Becky and I planned a quick overnight backpack in Moraine State Park - we’d planned a short hike on account of the limited daylight, and aimed to stay in the backpacker shelter off of Link Road. Temps were warming up after a long deep freeze, and it felt so great to be out. But a big, wet, heavy sky loomed, and the whole day felt like we were living in black and white. We were both out of sorts, and kept trying to brush it off. Becky was feeling crappy and couldn’t eat in the morning. I somehow left my house without hat and gloves (how??!!). Rather than head back, we stopped in Slippery Rock to get a sandwich, a dollar store hat, and gas station gloves. What a stupid start to the day. We got to our trailhead and felt disoriented. Which spur trail goes to the main trail? Why do we feel so unsure of ourselves, of our map skills, of the day at large? Were we being cavalier about a winter camping trip? Doubt set in.

We hiked a few gray miles in, and as the rain started, we decided to stop for a snack at a point that looks down over the lake, which was full of fog and mist and dampness. We talked about our misgivings, about how even though we’d be able to get out of the rain in the shelter, we wouldn’t be able to dry our wet clothes around a fire, since the rain was forecast to continue all night and into the next day. It was in the 40s while we were hiking, but was going to drop below freezing overnight, and it just seemed like a bigger risk than it was worth. It’s one thing to take risks when you are sure you understand them, but we both felt so out of sorts that we didn’t know if we could trust our decision making, and it felt important to listen to that uncertainty. And so we scratched.

It always feels so stupid to carry all your shit when you’re not camping after all. Like, we had fun, but would it have been more fun if we didn’t have a big backpack, or a fully loaded bike? But why am I even worried about maximizing anything? We had fun, is that not enough? Am I being greedy?

This past weekend, I met up with my friend Helena out in the Quehanna Wild Area. We’d initially planned for two nights and three days of nosing around, finding all the modern ruins we could find. Literally nothing went according to plan. It had rained or snowed for 21 of the first 25 days of February, and was forecast to rain an inch and a half our first day out. We almost bailed on going out for the first day, but decided to spend it hiking and then stay in a murder hotel rather than sleeping in the rain. We found the abandoned hunting camp built into the boulders, saw lots of elk and coyote scat, some trees with antler rub, and a few elk tracks in the mud, but only saw deer. The jet engine test bunkers were pretty wild, and felt a lot like the section of abandoned turnpike near Breezewood -- just woods and nothingness, but with crumbling asphalt underfoot. Something was here. Where is it? There’s a heaping mound of earth, with a vent in the back -- the whole bunker has been consumed (or buried). The other bunker is totally above-ground still and has surprisingly little graffiti on it, though what is there is pretty potent.

Peeking into the mostly-buried jet engine test bunker

Helena log-hopping over a stream.

Kunes Camp - the side walls of this cabin are boulders, and the trail goes in one door and out the other! We strung up a laundry line in our motel room and blasted the heater to dry our soggy clothes, attempted to eat some garbage pizza, and fell asleep with the heater still blasting.

I woke up feeling kind of queasy and dehydrated. I hadn’t been able to eat much at all the previous day, and started to feel nervous that maybe I was getting the horrible flu that’s been going around this winter. Choked down a clif bar and packed up my bike anyway, pleased that the rain had stopped. By the time we were fully packed up, the rain had started again. We rolled slowly up the rural highway, and my legs felt heavy. My body felt heavy. I felt exhausted. We got off the pavement and onto a side trail, which just looked so great! Slippery with wet leaves, wet clay, running water, lots of sticks trying to hitchhike in my derailleur, normally so fun for me, but I was feeling locked fists in my belly. We did a small climb and I started to see spots and my vision clouds and becomes dark, briefly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt worse on a bike in my entire life. I was sure I was going to throw up, but breathed through it. What is this? Why do I feel like this? Helena asks me the same question I ask everyone else when they are miserable: did you drink enough water? I laugh. Of course I haven’t. It’s so hard to drink enough when it’s wet and cold. But I also probably haven’t eaten enough, and I don’t know what else is going on with my body. I wait for my heart to stop pounding, and we ride on, expecting to come out about a mile up the road. But in a surreal X-Files moment, we discover that we’ve come out about a mile back DOWN the road. How is this possible? We are both good map readers! What just happened?

The face of a girl trying not to puke on her bike.

We try again to cut in on a side trail, and ride it down to the bottom, where a stream is running fast and high and cold, and we decide that we don’t want to cross it. Back up we go. On that climb, I decide with certainty that I am not camping tonight. I don’t know if I am just slow to warm up and maybe I can work through feeling so shitty, or if I am getting sick. I really don’t want to be throwing up at camp. But I don’t feel so dead that I can’t ride at least a little more, so we ride the pavement up to Reactor Road, which is a charming little paved offshoot to the site of the former nuclear reactor. There’s nothing there anymore, just a sign at the edge of a grassy field. Here, we decide to split up -- Helena will continue riding the dirt and gravel, and I will just take the pavement back to the car, and head home.

It’s disappointing on so many levels -- the weather has finally cleared up, and there’s even a ghost of the sun in the sky, trying to burn through the opacity of a month-long cloud. It’s the first time I’ve gotten to ride with Helena, and I hate to bring anything other than my A-game and usual sunny disposition, especially with new friends. It’s my second scratched camping trip in a row. I am so disappointed that I forget to be gentle with myself, forget to be proud of even trying to get out in such shitty weather, almost forget that it was a super fun weekend and I loved all of it, except for the almost-puking and almost-passing-out parts. I slept for ten straight hours at home. Obviously I was Not Well in some capacity.

But what I don’t know is … am I getting soft? Am I scratching because I’m not as tough as I think I am? Has some weird pride aspect turned up, like I’m trying to prove something to myself, or to somebody else? Or am I tougher than I ever used to be, so I’m going out in sketchier conditions, going out more often, encountering situations in which a person really ought to scratch? I don’t like the not-knowing. I don’t like being unable to tell if I’m sick or if I just did a bad job of managing calories and hydration, because it means I don’t know what I can do differently or how I can prevent feeling like that in the future. Can it be, that not everything is a learning opportunity? Or maybe the lesson is just in going easy on myself.

Graffiti on one of the jet engine test bunkers at Quehanna. I was sad to get sick but I did not despair!

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7pastmidnight · 7 years

Photo

Past Curfew- Chapter 1

author: 7pastmidnight

summary: senior in hs moving into a new town

genre: horror, thriller, mystery, romance, 18+

warning: smut in later chapters

note: this is my first long fic, so please don’t be too harsh in judgement! i will try to release one chapter a week~ all members will be present along with other JYP artists for added characters. there will be lots of texting dialog throughout the story so I used italics to symbolize it~ I tried to type this quickly so i apologize in advance for any grammatical errors. I hope you all enjoy it^^

key:

italics = texting

y/a/n your aunts name,

y/a/l/n your aunts last name

y/u/n your uncles name

Things have taken a turn for the worst. Everything happened so quickly. It’s been less than a month since your dad divorced your mom and kicked her out along with you. Despite feeling bad for your mom, knowing him, it’s not surprising that he would pull such a stunt. He gave both of you a week to pack everything and find a new place. Your mom decided to move in with her sister in Calistoga, a tiny place about 80 miles north out of your hometown, San Francisco. You have a lot of mixed emotions, you feel a small sense of relief for your mom, but you don’t want to leave your childhood friend Jeongyeon. You lived your whole life with her… you couldn’t imagine her out of the picture like that, especially since you both just started senior year. You send her a text. Everything is packed up, we’re about to drive up there now ☹ You are standing outside the house near your moms car. You look back and take in the thought that, this will probably be the last time you will ever be there. Your mom walks out of the front door with one large box in her hands. She crams the box in the back of her white hatchback without even taking one look back at the house. She says, “Come on honey get in the car.”

You take one last good look at the house before you turn around and get in the passenger seat. Your mom turns on the ignition and starts driving down the long gravel driveway. You pull out your phone to look at Jeongyeons reply. Take me with you ☹

My mom said she would take me to visit you sometime since its not that far away. Maybe when I visit I’ll hide in your house lol

We could totally get away with it too! My mom would let you live here. What is even in Calistoga anyway? Sounds lame

Idk literally nothing. It’s way more rural than San Francisco that’s for sure

Hey I gotta go I have to get ready for school. Good luck! Text me when you get to your aunts!!

You look outside at the scenery passing by. You suddenly feel a rush of nostalgia, taking everything in like you’re seeing it for the last time. You can hear your mom softly crying to herself over the music coming from the radio. You know it’s hard on her but you’re not sure how to help so you just leave her be. It was only a little after 7 am, the sun is barely starting to rise. You end up falling asleep on the car ride over to your aunts.

You wake up about an hour later as your mom pulls up to the front driveway of your aunts. You forgot how huge her rustic estate was. You can see your aunt sitting on a chair on her front patio with her yorkie sitting on her lap. Your mom parks right in front of the stairs leading up to the front porch and your aunt walks down to greet you.

“Glad you guys made it away from that asshole.” She then turns to you and says, “Sorry you had to hear that hon.” You give a slight shrug and walk over to give her a hug. She hugs you tight and lets you go. Then she looks over to your mom and says, “come here you too.”

As she lets her go and asks, “Have you all eaten yet? I made some breakfast for you and waffles. “Ooh I love waffles.”

“Oh no sweetie I meant for us and the dog, waffles, that’s his name.” You look down at the little puffball sniffing at your feet. You let out a small chuckle, “that’s cute.” You look up at your mom and she’s hardly smiling. She looks so exhausted. You walk towards the trunk to start unpacking. “Hold on eat breakfast first while it’s still hot. Come on inside.” Your mom takes the lead and walks in front of you up the stairs. You look around at the scenery and it’s just what you expected… there is absolutely nothing around you except for the two neighboring houses. You must admit though; the autumn scenery is refreshing compared to the city you were used to. You take out your phone to send pictures to Jeongyeon. As you are taking photos you see from a far a guy leaving one of the neighboring houses wearing a black baseball cap, carrying a backpack. You don’t really think much of it at the time and walk inside.

You take a step inside and walk down the hallway that leads to the living room. She has some family photos on the wall including picture of her with your uncle. You walk into a wide-open living room with high ceilings. Everything looks so clean and untouched it almost makes you uncomfortable. You find your way to the kitchen where your mom and aunt are sitting down at the table drinking some coffee. You take a seat and help yourself to some eggs and turkey bacon on the table. Your aunt looks to you and says, “Once you’re done eating I’ll take you to the high school to get enrolled, let’s give your mom some time to rest.”

“Okay, that sounds fine.”

“Are you excited to go to a new school?” Your aunt asked.

“Not really… I hope the school year will go by quickly.”

“Maybe you’ll see some cute boys at school… some better than your dad…”

“y/a/n…” your mom quietly snaps.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to give y/n something to look forward to.”

“How have you been holding up since…?” My mom quietly asked.

“Since y/u/n died?” she chuckles a bit and says, “I’ll admit it’s been a little lonely, but I’ve been having fun spending his money!” What a typical thing for your aunt to say you think to yourself.

“That’s how I got little waffles here! I named her after your uncle’s favorite food.” She pauses and says, “I’m actually really glad you’re here. It’s a big house, we need some people besides me waffles and Carol to fill it up.”

“I’m sorry who?”, your mom asks.

OH I forgot to mention Carol? She’s my maid. She comes up during the weekend to clean the house. I don’t know if you can tell but it looks nice in here because of her. Although I mainly hired her so I could have someone to talk about local gossip with.”, your aunt chuckles.That explains why everything looks uncomfortably clean, you think to yourself.

“Carol will normally stay here during the weekend. When she’s not cleaning she spends time hanging out at some of the local areas around here. She lives in the city, so I think she likes to get away from it sometimes. I let her stay in a room upstairs until she leaves on Monday mornings. Although I don’t think she’ll be happy to clean up after two more people.” Your aunt chuckles.

Your mom asks, “How long have you had a maid?”

You quietly keep eating your breakfast as you’re ignoring your mom and aunts banter. You look at your phone to see that Jeongyeon replied. It looks like it sucks there. Miss you at school ☹ btw whos that guy in the pic? He looks kinda creepy How would you know who that guy was? You literally just got here. You assume a neighbor maybe? Still, you felt bad. You and Jeongyeon didn’t really have any other friends than each other, you feel like you practically left her there by herself. Not really knowing what to say you put your phone back in your pocket and stare down at the crumbs on the blue flower trimmed plate you just ate from. Your aunt snaps you out of your trance. “Are you ready hon?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You reply to Jeongyeon saying idfk who that guy is, he looks shady, but I think he’s my aunts neighbor. UGHHHH I’m about to go enroll into my new school. I haven’t even seen it yet but I already know I’m gonna hate it. But the truth is you are a little excited. You never really made friends at your old high school, maybe this time would be different. You say goodbye to your mom and follow your aunt down the hallway out the front door. The sun is fully out now blinding your tired eyes. You get in your aunt’s white suburban Cadillac. Your uncle must’ve had a lot saved up.

You two drive down a long winding road before you hit the center of the town. You see a grocery store, a library, a park with a large beautiful fountain in the center. The school is far from your aunts, you’re used to school being in walking distance. At a stop light, you see a sign on a telephone pole “MISSING KIM WONPIL”. The guy looks like he’s about your age too. You sarcastically mumble to yourself, “Oh that’s a good sign. I can’t wait to live around here.”

“Oh the kids around here can be a little crazy since there’s not a lot for them to do to keep them entertained. It’s probably just a prank since October is around the corner.”

“I can’t wait to meet them all…” you reply very sarcastically.

You two pull up to the school, it’s kind of large considering this is a small town. You don’t see anyone wondering around the grassy and shady front courtyard. You take that as a sign of relief, that must mean class has started already… you weren’t ready to communicate with anyone just yet. Just as you were about to open the car door this loud black dodge charger quickly pulls up in the space next to you, forcing you to shut the door to avoid getting hit. “WHAT THE FUCK?” you think to yourself, you glare out your aunt’s window to give the driver a mean look, but you were taken aback. This handsome, well built, man with blonde slicked back hair and aviator shades gets out of the car and smirks at you. “UGHHH WHAT A JERK” you think to yourself, but then you hear your aunt say, “oh hi Jackson!” what the fuck?? Your aunt knows this guy?? “WHY?” you think to yourself.

Jackson yells, “Hey Mrs. y/a/l/n I’m running late for class but I’ll talk to you later! Hope you’ve been well.” He runs into the front doors of the school. You get out of the car and look at your aunt with a puzzled look.

“How do you know that guy??? You ask.

“Oh, when your uncle first died he helped me with lawn work before I hired help. He’s a good kid, just a little wild sometimes.”

You couldn’t imagine a guy like that helping your aunt, but you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. You and your aunt make way up the stairs leading to the front entrance of the school. You walk in expecting for the entrance to be a little extravagant, but you were a little disappointed. This school just looked normal. Navy colored lockers on both sides of the hallway. No students in the hallway, but there were some missing signs of that kid you saw plastered on the walls. They’re kind of taking it far if it really is a prank. The office was up on your left. Suddenly you felt nervous. You take a deep breath and follow your aunt inside.

There was an older lady with short red hair wearing gold rimmed reading glasses, typing away eyes glued to a computer. Next to this lady was a young man, he was probably a student aid. You blankly stared at him while he was reading some paperwork. He was wearing a black and white stripped shirt, had slightly messy black hair and big ears. He looked up at you and gave you a gentle smile. Shocked, you turn around and observe the room pretending like you weren’t just staring. There’s hallway behind her desk. You guessed that down the hall were the offices of the principals or counselors. Your aunt walks up to the counter, and says “excuse me?”

The woman looks up from the screen, “oh my goodness I’m so sorry! I didn’t even notice you walked in! You’re here to enroll y/n right?”

“Yes ma’am we are.” You aunt replied calmly.

“Here, take a seat.” You take a seat in one of the two chairs facing the desk. You feel super nervous now. You really don’t want to be here.

“I’m so sorry about that! Here if you could start filling out this paperwork Mrs. y/a/l/n.”

You start to pull your phone out of your pocket to see if Jeongyeon has replied. You’re not entirely sure why you have to be here for this part.

“y/n, would you like a tour around the school?” the woman behind the desk asked.

Before you could answer she says, “Jinyoung, could you show y/n around the school?”

“Sure…”, he says shyly. He stands up and says, “come on follow me.”, he says in a calm tone.

You get up and nervously glare at your aunt before you walk out into the hall.

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