#even if i decide to do the 'use irish lyrics (which i am NOT conversational in) instead of generic vocalizations' thing

[roseverdict]

it is 4 AM which means it's Desperately Claw At Hobbies In An Attempt To Make Some Form Of Money To Set Aside So I Can Go Be An Adult Instead Of The Parentals' Puppet time!

[ladyamber]

Sirenade: Chapter Twenty

Good evening everyone and welcome to Sirenade once again, I know my schedule’s been really out of whack especially since I didn’t post last week. Not because I forgot, but because I really needed a mental break. I’ve been extremely busy with college applications, projects, studying and school that I sometimes barely get a break. Do know that I would love to post to a consistent time which I am working on day and night to fix, but with my life being very unpredictable it might not get fixed for a while. Though I do plan to work on more on Sirenade during Thanksgiving break. God forbid that my teacher’s decide on giving me work over my break. Anyways enough of my rambling, as always I hope you enjoy this week’s chapter and Stay Tuned! For next week’s chapter which I will most definitely see you for! BTW this chapter's going to be longer than normal since I missed two weeks enjoy!

Start: Prologue

Previous: Chapter 19

Next: 12/1/19

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 20

Soft music played throughout the Brewery’s Happy Hour time, not too loud but not too quiet either. The rhythmic drumming of his fingers danced with the polished pine counter as he awaited his company and drink. Normally his routine consisted of enjoying a brew or two with friends over the weekend, but this time it seemed different. The atmosphere was calm and casual setting up a perfect conversation accompanied by someone special and a bottle of scotch. He wasn’t a heavy drinker not since he’d moved on from a difficult loss, but he did tend to get a bit tipsy if alone. The smell of fresh food and beer flooded his senses the longer he sat at the booth. He snapped from his thoughts as a glass was set on the counter, “Sorry for the wait Tyler, hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

The small brunette slid his drink across the counter and dried his hands off with the small white towel draped over his shoulders. “It’s funny to see you here on a Wednesday night, waiting for someone special?” The younger male wiggled his eyebrows at him. Tyler chuckled, took a sip of his beverage as he rolled his eyes.

“It’s funny not to see Nogla following behind you like a horny bitch, but I’m not complaining.” Tyler snickered as his smaller friend turned red from blushing and howling in laughter obviously trying to hide it.

“Cabron, I’m not complaining I’m just curious. Who are you meeting in the middle of the week?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see Lui.” Tyler continued sipping his beer as he received a playful punch in the arm from Lui. It remained peaceful as the homemade cold brew sat in his stomach, though it didn’t stay peaceful for long. A petite figure sat next to him at the nearly empty booth, he didn’t mind but found it rather annoying that out of all the seat they choose the one right next to him.

“Evenin’ Miss, what can I getcha?” His taller bartender friend seemed to peak the interest of the small woman, but only for that sparkling interest to fall right on to him. He didn’t look directly at her although from the corner of his eye he swore he saw something else in that innocent appearance she was trying to pull off. It was gone when she turned her attention back to his Irish friend.

“A dry martini, please.” Her voice matched the look she was trying to pull, but Tyler knew better the shine in her eyes somehow made him very uncomfortable.

“Course.” Tyler decided to ignore her for the rest of the night, however it seemed fate had other plans. As Nogla prepare her attention snapped to him when he picked his glass up once again.

She smiled sweetly, “How rude of me to stare, so sorry. Where are my manners, Octavia Dimmer.”

Now he said he’d ignore her presence but being raised to always be polite took over his gut feeling. “Tyler Wine.” He gently shook her hand and exchanged smiles.

He turned his body back to Nogla who’d just  finished putting together her drink. He placed it on a coaster in front of her. “Enjoy!”

With that Nogla scurried back into the kitchen leaving the two now “acquaintances”. “So what brings a man like you to drink all alone?” She bartered her eyelashes at him. He turned his head and rolled his eyes.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first though.” She rested her head on her hand while her fingers danced on the shiny counter like his did not too long ago.

“Waiting for someone.” He returned his attention back to the bar when Nogla came back. Smiling as he cleaned one of the many glasses that had been used hours before he entered.

“Well while we wait for this said person why don’t you and I get to know one another?” She placed her hand in his arm again attempting to flirt with him.

“No thanks.” He brushed her off when reaching for his beverage. She huffed and turned back to the bar with a pout.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a bar. I’m here just for work but it was so hard to ignore this beautiful little town.” 

I didn’t ask.

“That’s nice.” Tyler only wanted a peaceful night.

“But it’s harder to ignore someone like you. Broad, tall, strong… handsome.” This time she put her hand on top of Tyler’s.

“What don’t you-“ What interrupted his opportunity to tell this “Octavia” off was not the change in music, the argument happening in the back, and not the loud conversations around him. Through the glass windows of the restaurant stood Craig, dressed to perfection with his choice of clothing hugging every part of his body with absolute sophistication, and a face of dismay framed right where Tyler could see it. His eyes trailed down onto their hands, those soft blue eyes glossed over causing a reaction in Tyler which almost broke him right there. He sadly smiled before running away from the brewery.

Tyler sat shocked blocking out every noise that filled the atmosphere, ignoring the protests of his friend and “acquaintance” (one for not paying and the other for being denied) as he quickly followed right after Craig. Leaving behind a slightly pissed off Nogla and an innocent face eyeing its next person of choice.

~*~

It had been twenty minutes since Tyler ran after Craig. He searched high and low in their little town for him, but it seemed as if he’d disappear. Of course his mind went straight to Craig being in a dangerous situation once again. Eventually his search led him to the woods, not the most practical idea to be in the forest at night but right now Tyler gave two shits about that.

Please let him be okay, please let him be okay, please-

A melody snapped him out of his panic. A sweet song and strum danced with the nature that lived there. It seemed as if everything was enchanted by the voice. Who could blame them even Tyler was in awe by its beautiful song. He quickly followed the song which led him out of the forest and to a small bay surrounded by trees. The melody continued to play as Tyler approached entered the hidden bay. Careful not to make a sound that would interrupt the enchantment.

“Turn off your porcelain face. I can't really think right now in this place. There's too many colors. Enough to drive all of us insane,” The voice became familiar the closer Tyler got. He listened to the lyrics as well he felt as if they were speaking directly to him. The song shifted his emotions of fear into sympathy for the owner of the angelic voice. He kept listening, ”Get a load of this train wreck, his hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet. But little do we know the stars welcome him with open arms.”

The more he listened to the melody the harder it was to keep himself from falling into a trance. Soon enough the effect of the spell took over his mind, causing him to lose control over his hidden position. “Time is ...Slowly…Tracing his face. But strangely he feels at home in this-“

His heavy footsteps shuffled in the sand as he came closer to the voice, but when he gave away his position the voice stood thus snapping Tyler out of his enchantment. “Ty? What- what are you doing here?”

Tyler watched him wipe away his emotions, sniffling softly to hopes of hiding it from the taller male, “Following you.” Tyler mumbled with his head hung low.

“Well you should’ve have. You should be at the pub enjoying a drink, with a lady at your side like always. Isn’t that right?” Craig turned his face away from Tyler’s own blue eyes that shone brightly with the moonlight.

He shrugged his shoulders as he shuffled awkwardly in the sand. “If you’d let me explain myself then you’d know that wasn’t the case, plus I wanted to chase after you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” He began to walk away from the grassy area and towards the sandy beach that contained a beautiful sight outlined by the luminescence of the night and the ocean waves in the background. Seating himself next to the frail soul he watched as his friends sapphire eyes examined him closing. He wondered if Craig saw him like he did, a wonder underneath the moon. He shuffled on the cool grainy substance trying to find a comfortable position, eventually he did. Turning at lookout into the vast body of water which seemed to stretch for eternity.

“You know, I didn’t know you had such an amazing voice.”

“You can’t compliment your way out of this one Ty… I thought this was going to be a night of just the two of us. I mean when was the last time we’ve had one?”

“I know, I know I’m sorry okay? I did want to spend tonight with you it’s just that bitch wouldn’t leave me alone. You just happened to walk in at the wrong moment. Could’ve told her off if you hadn’t interrupted me.” That word was laced with venom, however the rest of his statement remained truthful towards Craig. He sincerely felt guilt for making him express such emotions in which he never wanted to see again.

“It’s just so frustrating sometimes, you know? To have to chase after someone in order to get their attention. Only this person has the attention span of puppy.” Craig eyes only sparked for a second when he spoke, but it quickly faded as he turned his gaze back at his instrument. Playing a small tune as the breeze scattered the notes through the bay.

“They must be a fuckin’ dumb ass then… Can you play something?”

Craig hummed as he mindlessly strummed chords, “Any requests?”

Tyler shook his head as he placed his head on Craig’s shoulder, listening to him tuning the ukulele before strumming a familiar tune. “Really, Steven Universe?”

“Can you blame me? Though to be fair it’s your fault for introducing me to it.” Tyler chuckled before falling silent to the melody that flowed through his mind.

“If I could begin to be half of what you think of me. I could do about anything, I could even learn how to love. When I see the way you act, wondering when I'm coming back. I could do about anything, I could even learn how to love like you. Love like you. I always thought I might be bad. Now I'm sure that it's true 'cause I think you're so good. And I'm nothing like you, look at you go. I just adore you, I wish that I knew. What makes you think I'm so special. If I could begin to do, something that does right by you. I would do about anything, I would even learn how to love. When I see the way you look, shaken by how long it took. I could do about anything, I could even learn how to love like you. Love like you. Love me like you.”

“Sorry, it's not the greatest but-” Tyler didn’t give Craig the opportunity to finish his statement as he captured the rest of it with his lips. Grabbing every sounds and words that came from his glossy lips. Not bothered by the chilly wind that blew their head in every direction, he parted from the addicting skin to catch the look on Craig’s face. Craig’s face exploded with color, crimson spreading like wildfire, pupils dilated and red lips barely apart from one another.

“Why- Why did you do that?” His eyes widened with every passing second as Tyler remained silent to process his actions. He’d just kissed his best friend, he’d never told any he found interest in another guy, hell he didn’t even know he was into guys. He felt like an idiot for dancing around the truth for years.

“Did you hate it?” He asked with caution expecting to be rejected or hated for his sudden actions.

“Of course not. I’ve always… wanted you to do that, but I never thought you would because of Kelly. And then all those random hookups over the past years. I mean it seemed like you weren’t into guys until now. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wait, what about Kelly?” Tyler barely kept up with Craig’s rambling, but the mention of his ex-girlfriend’s name made him catch every single word.

“Well... before everything happened. She made me promise to always make sure that you were happy even if I wasn’t because you deserved it.” Tears slide down their faces falling into the sand which simply absorbed the salty liquid. “Even if I can’t help you like a human would I promised I would still try.”

“What did you say?” Tyler saw the panic swirling in his eyes.

“That I should always keep you- you happy.”

“No after that. Can’t help you like a human? What’s that supposed to mean Mini?”

“Oh would you look at the time its way past Smitty’s bedtime. If you’ll excuse me-” Before Craig had a chance to escape Tyler grabbed his waist and sat on top of his legs eliminating his chances of running off. “T-Tyler! Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what you meant.” Fiery flashed in his dark blue eyes, staring down at the smaller male as he tried not to make eye contact with him. Of course he failed, biting his lower lip. Finally with a heavy sigh he spoke, “I’m not human. I’m a siren.”

At first, Tyler didn’t know how he should have reacted. In his mind he felt that he would’ve screamed and hit the creature he’d always been told to be afraid of, but seeing that the so called monstrous creatures that killed people at sea was his best friend. He didn’t panic as much as he thought he would’ve. Although he still panic, “ Are you going to eat me?”

Giggles turned into loud laughter that ricocheted throughout the forest, slowly dying down as Craig seized his cackling, “What, no. Well only if I’m desperate, but you’re safe for now.”

His eyes widened expressing his slight panic, “I’m kidding we don’t eat people. Those stories are all rubbish, only meant to sympathies with man and belittle our kind.”

“Can I see it?” 

“See what? Oh, you mean… why don’t I show you the wonders of our world instead of just me.” Craig stood up and walked towards a tree, laying down his instrument, taking off his shirt and folding it neatly next to his ukulele. Next thing Tyler knew Craig began to run towards the sea, causing sand to be thrown back with his steps. Jumping into the water, he watched an outline of orange wander the rocks one by one until it came to a brief stop at one. Craig emerged from the water a moment later holding a teal plant in one hand and extending his other. “The water’s a bit cold but you’ll get used to it.”

Tyler hesitated for a moment still unsure about how he should process the information he’d discovered about one of his closest friends. How many more were there? How many of his friends were sirens?

“Ty. It’s okay, I promise I won’t let you go. Or eat you.” He chuckled as he approached the ocean. It played with his feet trying to pull him in closer to its bottomless wonder. Eventually, he walked to where Craig could no longer stand and floated instead. He placed the small plant into his hand and looked up at him with soft blue eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Tyler nodded, examining the plant as he brought them to his mouth, tasting the contrast between the saltiness of the environment but the sweetness of the plant itself. Craig smiled at him, grabbing his hand and submerging them into the cold abyss that hid beauties the world might never see. At first, the water burned his nostrils and eyes when he took his first breath, but slowly the plant took effect and helped his body adjust to the new habitat. Fish and life in the ocean was like he’d never seen before. It all looked so much more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. What really took his breath away was Craig’s new form, a shiny orange tail replaced his “normal” pale legs, scales littered his skin and his fingers contained webbing in between. It was almost like a dream, but he knew this was real when Craig swam up to him and guided their lips together. Tasting and feeling the heat that cooled with the surrounding water, his scales brightened and flared as Tyler explored every inch of Mini’s mouth. Pulling away to admire one another and to see the audience they had created, fish came out of hiding to see the human and siren explore their world. Hands intertwined with one another.

~*~

Hours passed since Tyler and Craig had entered the water. The effects of the plant wearing off at the last few minutes of their adventure, oh the fun they had felt satisfying as they enjoyed the presence of each other back on the bay. Tyler had never felt so relaxed in his life, for once someone was taking care of him and he couldn’t complain this was the best day of his life. He laid his head on Craig’s lap as those delicate fingers danced and stroked his hair. “Hey, Tyler.”

He hummed as a response letting Craig know his exhaustion, “Thank you for today. I love you.”

He lazily opened his eyes and looked up at the smaller male, Craig pecked his lips soothing him to return to his daze. He closed his eyes once again, smiling as a tune lulled him into a deep slumber, feeling content and happy a feeling he had longed for.

“I guess I’ll have to face, that in this awful place, I shouldn’t show a trace of doubt. But pulled against the grain. I feel a little pain, that I would rather do without. I’d rather be free, free, free… I’d rather be free, free, free. Free, free, free… From here.”

Credits to the creators of the songs. This is Home by Cavetown, Love like you and Escapism by Rebecca Sugar.

[retrauxpunk]

i saw this bunch of asks and i’ve decided to answer all of them because fuck waiting for asks that’s why

billie jean: what do you notice more in a song - the drums or bassline?

probably the drums. this is embarrassing but i barely even know what a bassline is. don’t ask.

sweet dreams (are made of this): what’s the best dream you’ve had?

i was in the hunger games with ben whishaw. we were sort of allies. we were some of the tributes remaining toward the end of the game. we had this intense moment of eye contact in which we weren’t sure if we were going to kill/get killed by the other, and then we made out. fuck yeah.

africa: favourite 80s music video?

i agree with @cheapskate-bleeding-queer​, Dancing in the Street is really something.

every breath you take: who’s the first person your mind goes to when you hear a love song?

either my boyfriend or my ex, depending on what kind of love song it is haha

should i stay or should i go: how many languages do you speak?

one fluently, one relatively proficiently, and basic spoken knowledge for another

uptown girl: what’s your favourite book trope?

there’s too many! here are a few i like: allies fighting with sword-like weapons back to back; badass battle magic; characters deciding to make out as a way to hide their real agenda (e.g. trespassing); saving each other’s lives; cyberpunk/biopunk; urban fantasy; people who save the world/have magic powers but also have normal lives of school/work

don’t stop believin’: what’s the longest journey you’ve been on?

mmm... flying from sydney to london. jesus. an entire day. but it was business class, so it was pretty cushy ... the flight from germany to sydney felt much longer because it was in economy and the shorter flight (8) was first, and the second one (16 or some shit) was second, so really i was going a bit nuts.

i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me): who was the last person you danced with?

my boyfriend, at the paramore concert

maneater: where did you spend your last friday night?

hanging out at my boyfriend’s work, playing beer pong

jessie’s girl: what would you do if you found out your best friend was seeing your ex?

be incredibly shocked/surprised and upset and bitter ... and ask them why? and also chew out my ex too. but more angry at the best friend because they know how my relationship with the ex went and it’d be a real douchey move for them to get with them haha. ...thankfully this is very very very unlikely to happen.

born in the u.s.a.: what’s your home town like?

sunny with a beautiful harbour. very expensive in terms of housing. pretty multicultural, with white, asian, and middle eastern being the dominant groups (in descending order). lots of great food.

wake me up before you go-go: how did your last date go?

saw Early Man with my boyfriend at the cinema. it was nice. uneventful but pleasant, which is how things usually go when you’ve been together for years...

girls just want to have fun: relationship with your parents?

we have really different/conflicting views about basically everything, which is what happens when we’re from different generations and grew up in different cultures... #immigrantlife but they tried their best and love me and i love them even though it has been kinda rough

beat it: opinions on the police force?

a necessary institution, i’d rather have one than not have one, but has several serious endemic issues regardless of which culture we’re talking about

never gonna give you up: how old were you when you joined the internet?

around the time this was a meme haha :p ... around 12-13, when I got into message boards and post by post roleplaying.

faith: when was your first kiss?

15 for a peck, 17 for making out

i’m so excited: where was your first kiss?

outside my house for the peck, and in Sydney’s Hyde Park for making out

take on me: could you reach the high note?

absolutely not, but i make a dumb attempt anyway

footloose: favourite musical?

The Book of Mormon!!!!!!!

9 to 5: do you like country music?

I’m not sure. Maybe?

back in black: what makes a good rock song?

a strong beat! strength of instruments! a hot voice and good lyrics. makes me want to start drumming my fingers/tapping feet/headbanging, no matter where i am. i’m too crap at music to be able to give a better answer, so have that subjective one.

material girl: are you sentimental?

absolutely. i’ll bleed my heart all over your carpet and ruin your clothes. though i don’t know if that comes across for people who don’t know me too well?

walk this way: what was the most expensive thing you bought in the last six months?

probably concert tickets for me and my boyfriend ... either that or my Doc Martens

you shook me all night long: are you seeing anyone at the moment?

yup

thriller: favourite film genre and why?

I like quite a few, but probably action/thriller. I love good action movies, I love watching well-choreographed combat and general Cool Badassitude, and the dialogue tends to be peppered with fun humour too. Really good for suspense and engagement.

i want candy: chocolate or sweets?

Chocolate

ghostbusters: how far do you believe in the paranormal?

I don’t really, but I wouldn’t push my luck either.

the power of love: does true love exist?

absolutely! all love is true love. if it’s not true, it’s not love.

hungry like the wolf: what’s your crush’s favourite music genre?

stuff like Queen

walk like an egyptian: favourite song currently in the charts?

Lemon To A Knife Fight by the Wombats

(i’ve had) the time of my life: if you could relive any ten minutes of your life, what would you relive?

listening to Pink Floyd’s Time while on acid (the first time I’d tried either the album or the drug)

just can’t get enough: what’s your guilty pleasure?

I don’t really feel guilty about my pleasures?

i’m gonna be (500 miles): how far apart do you and your best friend live?

lmao. a 24 hour flight apart. about as far away as you can get

you spin me round (like a record): favourite modern cover of an older song?

i don’t know many, but the Scissor Sisters cover of Comfortably Numb as a disco hit is really good!

we built this city: if you were president, what would your first ruling be?

oh god uh I don’t know. but some stuff I’d like to make happen are: increasing taxes on fossil fuels, more protections for queer folk, making abortion safe and easily accessible, overhauling the sex ed curriculum in schools to include a lot more focus on consent and the nuances of consent instead of focussing purely on physical sexual health, increasing funding for mental health, OH BOY I COULD GO ON AND ON 

how will i know: do you believe everyone is deserving of love?

by default yes ... for people like ivan milat ... no ... so, yes, except in the extreme cases of people proven to be unrepentant and unwilling to reform after committing atrocities

nothing’s gonna stop us now: what’s been the biggest hurdle you’ve faced in your life so far?

either my own mental health RE being quite neurotic/obsessive, or a bad former partner who did some things that fucked me up. they’ve recently seemed to be truly sorry/empathetic though so that one at least will be getting better now. tbh they’re both getting better, so that’s nice!

come on eileen: have you ever written a song? if so, what was the genre?

i kinda wrote lyrics and had an idea for a melody for this ... some kind of bad sappy love song that would probably be in the pop rock category? oh god i’m so glad i have no further memory of it

living on a prayer: which was the song of your childhood?

if we’re talking pre-teenagerhood ... um ... I dunno! maybe ‘Sk8er Boi’ or Atomic Kitten’s ‘The Tide is High’ haha. as for my mid-teens ... Tokio Hotel’s ‘Der Letzte Tag’. late teens, it’d be ... maybe Taylor Swift’s ‘Holy Ground’.

sweet child o’ mine: describe your perfect first date.

meeting somewhere public, having good food and drink, excellent conversation and laughs, then going to my/their place and having more of the same, and making out and potentially Other Things wink nudge giggle wink wink nudge

don’t you (forget about me): is there anyone from your past that you regret cutting ties with?

No. HA. feels good to say that

eye of the tiger: favourite 80s movie?

i .................. don’t know if I have one

under pressure: give an example of a world event that occurred the year you were born.

Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as president of South Africa

with or without you: what would you value most: a relationship or a job?

oh my god i don’t fucking know. 

another one bites the dust: where did you achieve your biggest accomplishment?

what ... even was my biggest accomplishment ... I guess either in my school’s exam hall (getting a high ATAR), or on my apartment couch (finishing NaNoWriMo)

pour some sugar on me: turn ons?

oh boy, hmm: having the exact same ideological beliefs as me; a lean but toned body; Irish/Scottish/Russian accents (among several others); neck kisses; being clever; being very skilled at something (esp something with a physical dimension e.g. drawing, playing guitar, snowboarding, etc.); the right amount of confidence/bravado but only when I’m already into them (otherwise this becomes a 10000x turn-off) 

in the air tonight: do you enjoy flying?

YEAH BB

tainted love: thoughts on synthesisers/electronic drum kits/technology based music?

i have no problem with it and it can produce excellent stuff just like any older instrument

like a virgin: share a controversial opinion.

i hate avocados

karma chameleon: what do you like most about your appearance?

on good days, hair and face. otherwise, my body.

[the-netchiman]

Stolen from gf @lionel-del-rey

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

smol cousin at some family function a while back.

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Neither? 

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My gf

4. Are you easy to get along with? Fuck no lmao

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? I have no doubt that they would try

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Funny, kind, down to earth people are cool

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? I’m about to purchase a plane ticket for my gf so I severely hope we’re together by then lmao

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? ur mum

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Only if it makes the person I’m talking to uncomfortable

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My dad. I guess???

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “what the fuck do you want for chrimbus, you little bitch?”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Oh no I don’t know gonna pull these out my ass real quick Black Irish by The Devil Makes Three Almost Blue by Chet Baker Desperado by The Eagles Stillborn (acoustic) by Black Label Society 512 by Lamb of God

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? idk? 

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Yes

15. What good thing happened this summer? I got to visit a friend in Texas. Other than that, my summer went by in a big shitty blur.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Not for all the money in the world

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Ye

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Nop

19. Do you like bubble baths? Ye

20. Do you like your neighbors? I don’t dislike them. I don’t speak spanish, so we haven’t talked much.

21. What are you bad habits? I stress myself out over little things too often

22. Where would you like to travel? Ireland would be cool, but I definitely could never go there. Outside of that, idk, anywhere is cool

23. Do you have trust issues? oh yes

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Eating

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My chest or my neck

26. What do you do when you wake up? Check my phone

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I think its a fine how it is

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My friend Ari I guess

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? yes

30. Do you ever want to get married? wow what an awkward question to have on something my gf is for sure going to see (yes)

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? ye

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Oh, idk

33. Spell your name with your chin. dickhead

34. Do you play sports? What sports? Not any more, but I used to play Football (American) and boxing 

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Tv

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Nah. Well yeah, but they figured it out eventually lmao

37. What do you say during awkward silences? “wow this got awkward”

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Mark Ruffalo

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Nerd stores (y’know, where nerds gather to play cards and dnd and stuff, occasionally comics are also there) and music stores. I’d spend all day in guitar center if no one stopped me.

40. What do you want to do after high school? Already out, and lemme tell you I’m already not doing what I wanted to do

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Most people. A few people definitely deserve nothing less than a life time of suffering.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? Nothing, or something. I’m quiet most of the time.

43. Do you smile at strangers? I think I do but I have the resting bitch face big time so I mostly just look slightly less mad at people in public

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? The ocean would be fantastic

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Mr Socks won’t SHUT THE FUCK UP

46. What are you paranoid about? oh, y’know, most things

47. Have you ever been high? Oh yes

48. Have you ever been drunk? frequently 

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? yes, but not because i’m embarrassed, just don’t want to upset anyone

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Black

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Nah. Careful what you wish for, right? Don’t want to say that and then wake up to find I’m somehow an even bigger piece of shit.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Wish I were in better shape, but I’m working on that so

53. Favourite makeup brand? Don’t wear it, so my favorite is whatever my gf asks for lmao

54. Favourite store? Guitar Center. lemme obnoxiously test pedals all day

55. Favourite blog? dunno

56. Favourite colour? Red. a certain shade of blue is pretty good too.

57. Favourite food? Anything featuring potatoes 

58. Last thing you ate? a fuckin 1/4 cup of cheese. my diet has been weird recently.

59. First thing you ate this morning? Nothing yet, but I have designs on some tacos

60. Ever won a competition? For what? ye, a few. i hate bragging so im not going to go into detail, but i used to actually be good at things.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Yep. suspended two or three times for getting into fights, one time for accidentally bringing a knife to school. weirdly, the girl that decided to pull the thing out of my pocket got in no trouble at all.

62. Been arrested? For what? No, but boi have i come close

63. Ever been in love? i am, at this moment, very in love

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? Not really much a story? It was an awkward childhood kiss.

65. Are you hungry right now? Yes, very. waiting on me uncle tho

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? don’t really have tumblr friends

67. Facebook or Twitter? Fb

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr for art, twitter for memes

69. Are you watching tv right now? nah

70. Names of your bestfriends? Ari, zach, mr socks

71. Craving something? What? Oh y’know things

72. What colour are your towels? Got turquoise, black, blue, purple, white. 

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? two

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Nah

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? Got a few plush pokemon, i guess that counts?

75. Favourite animal? Really like bears

76. What colour is your underwear? N/A

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? oh, uh, cookie dough? oreo? orange sherbet? can’t decide.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? N/A

80. What colour pants? look if the last two clothing questions didn’t tip you off, i’m naked. are you happy now?

81. Favourite tv show? oh, idk. haven’t really had the interest in shows since i got super depressed like a year ago lmao

82. Favourite movie? i guess kung pow?

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD EVER PICK 2? 

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? that chick that made out with a hot dog that one time. big mood.

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? The stoner turtle

87. First person you talked to today? My gf

88. Last person you talked to today? My uncle

89. Name a person you hate? just one? nah.

90. Name a person you love? my gf (duh) all these friends i met on the internet, and some of my family i guess

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? so, so many people. 

92. In a fight with someone? like, currently? how would i be doing this?

93. How many sweatpants do you have? don’t wear sweats

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? a couple

95. Last movie you watched? uhhhhhhhhh something shitty on netflix, probs

96. Favourite actress? oof uh, idk. 

97. Favourite actor? also dunno

98. Do you tan a lot? got them irish genes, i burn

99. Have any pets? Mr. Socks, the best cat in the world and i will fight anyone who disagrees. 

100. How are you feeling? Cold

101. Do you type fast? Nope

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Not really. If they didn’t happen, i wouldn’t be where i am now

103. Can you spell well? dubya eee ell ell. fuck you.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? kinda? define past.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? ye

106. Ever broken someone’s heart? i would hope not, but maybe

107. Have you ever been on a horse? ye

108. What should you be doing? going to the store

109. Is something irritating you right now? always

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? YES

111. Do you have trust issues? Yes

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? an ex, probably

113. What was your childhood nickname? didn’t really have a nickname

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yep

115. Do you play the Wii? I have a wiiu, but i don’t really play it much. its mostly the netflix machine now

116. Are you listening to music right now? Autumn Leaves by Chet Baker

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Fucking yes

118. do you like chinese food> YE BOI

119. Favourite book? don’t know

120. Are you afraid of the dark? Nah

121. Are you mean? I think so. others say different. its weird, man

122. Is cheating ever okay? in a relationship? no. in a video game to give your character a giant bobble head? absolutely.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? the trick is to not wear white shoes

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No lmao

125. Do you believe in true love? as opposed to fake love? i guess???

126. Are you currently bored? ye

127. What makes you happy? knowing that others are happy

128. Would you change your name? nah

129. What your zodiac sign? taurus

130. Do you like subway? not compared to my other sub options

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? i don’t know. she’s married, so like...what the fuck how 

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? my dad, i guess

133. Favourite lyrics right now? I've held the hand of God and I've sang the Devil's song And when it comes my time no tears are gonna fall But some will light the fire and some will mourn the one Left longing for the ire of, of their departed son.

134. Can you count to one million? ain’t got that kinda time, fam

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I don’t really lie? I think i just say dumb shit and people take me seriously 

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed

137. How tall are you? 5′5. I’m a manlet.

138. Curly or Straight hair? no preference

139. Brunette or Blonde? brunette

140. Summer or Winter? Winter

141. Night or Day? Night

142. Favourite month? idk, december i guess because i have a mandatory week off work,

143. Are you a vegetarian? I wish, I don’t have the willpower.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Dark chocolate

145. Tea or Coffee? tea. coffee is more of a tool for me? gotta wake up, tea is just good.

146. Was today a good day? dunno yet

147. Mars or Snickers? Snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote? don’t really remember quotes

149. Do you believe in ghosts? Kinda

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“As I approached the northern cliffs where I’d find the Serpent’s Sanctum, I could see the soaring towers of Skyreach off to my right.”

[livelikebrent]

Life isn’t tied with a bow but it’s still a gift...

The answer is: Yes, the title of this post is more or less a Kodak Black lyric. It was made into a very pretty, visually pleasing inspirational quote image I saw on social media, I took note of it for later use and here I am realizing it wasn’t made up by some super unique female author. But nevertheless, it’s true. So this blog post isn’t about a recent trip. But rather the holiday season and Brent not being here for it. It’s something I want to write about.

Some of you are reading this because you knew Brent, you snowboarded together or you grew up together. Some of you reading have never met Brent but heard about what a great guy he was...and I couldn’t be happier that he had an impact on you. While he didn’t know everybody, he sure knew a good chunk of the population. I couldn't tell you the last time he introduced me to someone, meaning only one person and that's where it ended. It was never, "Hey Ais, meet TJ." No, no. It was, "Hey Ais, meet TJ... OH and his wife Leslie. Oh and there are our friends Brandin and his wife Jaque, who is Buck and Tank's vet and then this is Maura who is engaged to Tom and is BFF with Caitlin. Not Tom though, Maura is BFFs with Caitlin and Tom is BFF with Josh. You met Josh when we went to dinner with him and Hannah...” AND IT WOULD GO ON. That’s not exactly how I met those individuals but just roll with the example. I've probably met the amount of people I was originally supposed to meet in my entire lifetime in the first year of dating Brent. It’s incredible. But, I digress. Here we are today regardless if I've been introduced to you (yet) or not. Sometimes, Brent would have friends in the same room as mine and there would be overlap without us even realizing it. Brent was all about bringing people together in one way or another. I think we can all agree that he was good at that.

This December I decided to bring together the Philly/Wilkes-Barre-ish crew to start a new tradition: Friendsmas. This year has been a roller coaster and wanted us all together during the holiday season. Out of the 15 people in this photo below (baby Fiona is running around and Josh doesn’t know how to handle the selfie stick) Brent introduced me to 12. That’s one dozen people that I wouldn’t have in my life right now if it wasn’t for Brent. That’s just the tip of the iceberg too. (Mind you there are some people missing from this photo that still play a vital role in my life today.) I’m extremely grateful for this bunch that I’ve become friends with and want me in their lives even after Brent being gone. We tried to get a group picture. But taking photos that night was not our strong suit and the kitchen may have filled with smoke due to the burning butter in Adam’s (delish) popovers...but the company and spread was pretty close to perfection. I hope this group of wonderful people grows and the tradition continues...because I think we need that. 

I think it’s very easy to harp on the loss and what we no longer have during a time like this. During a time of year like this. It’s inevitable to be quite honest. But I think sometimes we need to remind ourselves with what we do have and cherish it regardless. That is what I’ve been trying to do and how I’ve been trying to handle myself the last 5 months. But recently, I found myself lying in bed one evening trying to go to sleep but couldn’t stop thinking about Brent. As the tears welled up and I started to cry my phone rang instantly. It was Fletcher, a Carve 4 Cancer member and friend, calling me from his hotel room in Montreal to chat about Carve. Coincidence? Probably. But I like to think not. I think we’ve all shared plenty of tears and there are certainly more to come...but again, take the time to look around and think about what we have and what Brent did for us. Brent brought Fletcher into my life. Fletcher, a blood cancer survivor, joined the Carve 4 Cancer team almost two years ago. When Brent was re-diagnosed, Fletcher would call me, text me, he’d let me know him and his wife (who had been HIS caretaker) were always there to talk. But that night Fletcher called and we chatted for almost two hours about the non-profit and the future of it. He didn’t know I was upset and that his call was cheering me up or that I was in bed trying to fall asleep. But I was grateful for the conversation (even if most of it was pure business) at such an odd time.

Pictured below is another group of loved ones brought together. But this time, the tables have turned and I had introduced Brent to 20+ people all in one sitting. This is my Boston College Family. “But you didn’t go to B.C.” I know, I’m well aware. My father and brother did though! My Dad did it right. What I mean by that is he stayed friends with his (6? Am I missing anybody?) college buds that he lived with in Mod32A on campus. Then when they all graduated, went off and got married, they continued to stay friends, then when they had children, we all became friends...more like family, really. Years ago, we used to get together in the summers up in Scituate, Mass. for long weekends and playing with lobsters on the deck before cooking them, winters in New Jersey cutting down our Christmas trees together and random get togethers in between. But as we grew older and schedules became a bit more crazy we took a break from organized mass gatherings. But over the last several years, we started to get together again for tree cutting season and pumpkin picking for Oktobersfest! This crew grew from the B.C. boys, to married couples, to families and then to families with significant others and we now have our first official B.C. baby, my niece Madison Grace. It’s absolutely wonderful how much it has evolved over the years and how much of a riot we all have together. But two years ago, Brent was invited to the annual B.C. Tree Cutting Party in 2015. The weather was unseasonably warm that year and I was excited to introduce Brent to my extended family for the first time. It’s needless to say, he fully embraced them as they did him.

This specific B.C. gathering begins at my parent’s humble abode in New Jersey where everyone meets up in the early afternoon. Then we caravan to the tree farm, find our Christmas trees, chop those puppies down, stop in the barn on the farm to buy ornaments, beeswax candle sticks, grab some coco or coffee, take our annual group farm photo and eventually make our way back to the house. Then the day continues with endless food, drinks, games, white elephant gift exchange and catching up into the evening and early hours of the morning. Every bed, every room, and most of the floor space is filled with bodies and air mattresses. When morning rolls around, the food and coffee is once again never ending before everyone packs up and makes their way back home whether it’s to Orlando, Ocean City or Philadelphia. Sadly, that was the only mass Boston College gathering Brent was able to attend. BUT he did see this B.C. crew for random and smaller gatherings here and there. He absolutely loved it.

When the B.C. family heard the news this past July, everyone felt an immense loss. How could you not? It was Brent. Mind you, some of these people only met Brent once and traveled all of the way from Scituate to attend his funeral. Now that’s a love that makes me cry just thinking about it. I received cards, phone calls, text messages, packages, and more from the Boston College family expressing their sympathy, love and support. We truly are a family which Brent was very much a part of. My loss was their loss.

This year, our Tree Cutting Party was exciting and intense in more ways than one. it was my niece's very first tree cutting in general and the weather was so perfect. We’ve had bitter cold weather for this December gathering, we’ve had beautiful warm weather, we’ve had dreary December days but this year we had a perfect snowfall. I had thought this was already the best B.C. party so far soley because we finally cut Christmas trees down in the snow. But it got better.

When we got back to my parent’s house, the Irish whiskey was flowing, bottles were being popped, appetizers were consumed and then my brother, Chris (in most of the photos above), had the room silent. He stood in our living room with all eyes on him and myself sitting on the floor with one of my “cousins.” He said that the entire group wanted me to know they knew this year would be hard and wouldn’t be the same without Brent...but that he was present. He went on and told me they love me and they also wanted me to look around at the party and see Brent everywhere. Then simultaneously all twenty-eight of them took off their sweaters and button downs to reveal they were all wearing our Carve 4 Cancer #LiveLikeBrent shirts and had one waiting for me as well. (I actually thought about packing mine for the weekend but for some reason didn’t!) I don’t even know what I said in response to my brother and everyone in that room except, “Thank you” as I tried to hold back my tears, stood up and hugged Chris. I wasn’t sad or upset but honestly touched by the support and love from this group of people. One of the couples that live down in Orlando felt terrible they were unable travel up for Brent’s arrangements over the summer and felt compelled to do something. So they planned this thoughtful and unexpected surprise. Thank you.

“I’ve learned a lot this year. I learned that things don’t always turn out the way you planned, or the way you think they should. And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken, and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, as long as you have people who love you.” – Jennifer Weiner, Author

Everyone in their lifetime will lose somebody they love. I'm obviously not speaking on a break-up or a falling out with a friend. I'm talking about when the time comes for that somebody “to meet their maker”...as Brent would often refer to it. You will lose somebody, attend that wake, attend that funeral and if you're lucky...that's the extent in what you have to do with the loss. Emotionally you still need to deal with it - but not physically. You don't have to worry about stopping utility bills, car payments, cleaning out an entire home from top to bottom and this list goes on. But unfortunately, I'm sure some of you know that process a little too well. However, what are some of the positives after losing this person? It’s very difficult and almost impossible to even see at first. But what are you left with? When life deals you a shitty hand in cards how do you play them? As Brent's girlfriend I realized I was left with something. I'm not talking about the sweatshirt that he wore in the hospital that I slept in for a week straight after he passed. I'm also not talking about being left with his snowboards or the countless memories we had together either. I'm talking about you. I'm talking about his friends - he would always correct me...“Our friends, Aisling. They’re not just MY friends anymore.” - I'm talking about OUR friends, Brent’s drinking buddies, peers, new acquaintances...I'm talking about this community I’ve found myself in. Just stop and think about it. I have been left with this community of rad, insanely kind and special people that have also rallied around what started as a measly grass roots fundraiser almost 5 years ago!  But...it was Brent's little fundraiser. It was his fundraiser to help others in the blood cancer community. I was left with this (growing) team of people. I wasn't the only one left with a community or non-profit that was built together with Brent. Everyone reading this post was left with this too.

These friends, this Carve 4 Cancer community, has evolved from a fundraiser with a couple of raffle baskets into an official, full fledged non-profit recognized by the IRS into now with a foundation. It all comes full circle. Brent was originally raising money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to help others. He then decided he didn't want the money he raised to be managed by a huge organization. He, in true Brent fashion, wanted to take matters into his own hands and create the impact himself. Over the last 4 years we, Carve 4 Cancer, have donated over $30,000 to blood cancer research. Here we are in December of 2017 where we’ve announced a brand new foundation raising money to give a grants local cancer patients...the Live Like Brent Foundation. We have created a damn foundation, you guys! In just over one week, we receive the applications sent in from patients, get to know these individuals and help them financially. I'm sorry, but how amazing is that?! This is what Brent wanted and we’re going to make it happen. Also, I don’t think we’ve made this public but in 2018 we have a goal of raising $100,000. And we will make it happen. Mic drop.

To put it lightly, losing Brent has taken a toll on myself and the Carve team, the Evans, friends on the east coast, friends on the west coast and everywhere in between. But do you know what keeps myself and the team going at the end of the day? This Carve 4 Cancer community. Brent left us with the opportunity to continue his legacy, continue to pay it forward and have a really stellar time while doing so. How many people have something like that after they lose someone they love? How many people can say they have a community that wants to make a difference because of that loved one that we lost? I'm not going to sit here and tell you we are going to work until this disease is gone. I'm just simply not. But I will tell you we will work together and dedicate our time and talent to making a better today for cancer patients and those effected by this disease. I will fully immerse myself into planning a kickass gala with some of my team members to fund this foundation, carry Brent’s legacy, continue to raise these funds and help those in need together. 

Nevertheless, the purpose of this post is not by any means to solicit donations or ask you for financial support for Carve. I’ve been trying to handle myself and this situation the best I can and what I’ve found is that I’m thankful for the people Brent has surrounded me with. I hope some of you can relate and it helps you during this time of year as well. While you can't pick-up your phone and ask Brent to ditch his plans to hit the slope this winter season or go grab a beer...you can still do something for him. I decided at his wake to travel for him and finish that bucket list we had created together. You can go hit up the slopes twice as many times for him this winter. You can grab Carve 4 Cancer and hold onto it and get involved to whatever degree you’d like. You can sit at your dinner table on Christmas day and be thankful for the people that came into your life. Maybe Brent influenced that...maybe he’s the reason you’re with your loved one. (He always bragged about being a semi-successful matchmaker!) Brent wanted nothing more than to create an impact. I will tell you to let yourself feel his absence this winter season, I certainly will, but please, do good with it. Life definitely isn’t tied with a bow...but take a moment and think about what gift he left us with.

[a-for-anne-blog-blog]

Blogs you picked and Why

I. Blogs I followed (I have five more than intended sorry they are all cool I promise!)

1. travelpage  > https://travelingpage.tumblr.com 2. music-and-quotes > http://music-and-quotes.tumblr.com 3. teainspoons > http://teainspoons.tumblr.com 4. thebestmoviequotesofalltime > http://thebestmoviequotesofalltime.tumblr.com 5. irisharchaeology > http://irisharchaeology.tumblr.com 6. sailingshots > http://sailingshots.tumblr.com 7. gardeningabc  > http://gardeningabc.tumblr.com 8. farm houses  > https://fuckyeabfarmhouses.tumblr.com 9. daily-deliciousness > http://daily-deliciousness.tumblr.com 10. bcsartorialist-blog > http://bcsartorialist-blog.tumblr.com

II. Why I followed them

A. Travel Page

*  Having a passion and curiosity for traveling, I have been fortunate to have had the opportunity to go on a road trip as well as smaller trips across the US and Canada. I am definitely a “map on the wall with pins where you wanna go” kind of girl and there are many pins left on the map to explore or at least dream about . Beyond my own passion and goals, it is interesting to learn about others experiences and dreams for traveling and exploring. In a travel blog such as this, it not only gives one inspiration and information about new places and experiences but enables one to see a visual reminder of God’s beautiful creation that we are all apart of, a visual testimony that life is a beautiful gift.

B. Music and Quotes

* You guessed it! I also have a thing for music. Music has such a unique way of relating to a person’s inner emotions. It has the ability to inspire, move one, create change, and new ways of thinking. Beyond deeper reasoning, it has the ability to be a bonding experience, it brings people together (whether you are learning about artists, jamming out to the latest Coldplay album or actually playing your own music). I am no expert but I can say that music definitely brings a great deal of joy to my life. When listening to music it is so important to not just enjoy the sound but to relate to what the artist is talking about in the lyrics. Thus, there are four reasons I chose this page. First, my love for music. Second, the importance of reading and understanding lyrics. Third, to have fun and be surprised by the random music quote of the day. And fourth, to learn about new songs.

C. Tea In Spoons

*  Even the sound of this blog sounds warm and cozy! Being an avid tea drinker, this blog seems like it could be perfect to a tea (yes I was trying too hard to get a pun in ). I am always looking to learn more about tea and different kinds (especially after Teavanna closed sad day :(  ). So I am pumped to do just that in following this blog!

D. The Best Movie Quotes of All Time

* Yes, like many of you, I do enjoy my fair share of movie watching and quoting. There just always seems to be a perfect movie or song quote for many moments of the day. Thus, picking this page just seemed fun and like a no brainer. Although, I realize I will definitely not like all the quotes or movies this blogger picks, this blogger’s page seemed to be the most promising on the topic. So it should, like the music page, be fun to see a random movie quote of the day.

E.  Irish Archaeology

* Now, before any of you ask, in case you are dying to know, I am not Irish… I’m mainly Irish American, which means I am an American with roots in the Old Country. As an American, I could go on for hours talking about roots because where your family comes from and their story is fascinating to me! This conversation is especially interesting when talking to fellow Americans and learning their families’s story of how they admirably came from various circumstances to this land and helped shape America the land of opportunity. However, this topic is not of interest to many Europeans and is probably not a good conversation starter in an Irish pub. All the same, call it the Bostonian in me, my ancestry, my own personality and interest or some other unknown reason but I have always related to and been curious to actually learn more about Irish culture and visit the Emerald Isle. Thus, I am pleased to learn about various topics on this page concerning just that!  

F.  Sailing Shots

* The act of following this page was driven mainly by curiosity. Everyone has their favorite season. When asked, most people say fall or spring (not to cold and not too hot) but as for me, my favorite season has always been summer. I love the classic New England dune beaches, flowers and sunshine. One activity and object that has caught my attention within the last year or two are sailboats and sailing. Thus, I followed this page to learn a little more about sailboats and view beautiful pictures of them.

G. Gardening ABC

* Gardening is a natural and essential skill for many or arguably all of us to obtain in order to maintain survival. It is a skill that I have personally longed to learn and grow in (…yes pun intended : D), as I am at least an admirer of the concept of working hard and being self-made. Looking at movements such as Urban Agriculture it is a fascinating realm and time for farming. With all the information and hype of healthy lifestyles many have started to turn towards cultivating their own gardens for fresh natural food. Thus, this page creates great excitement in learning more about a sprouting topic of interest … see what I did there : ) .

H.  Farm Houses

* Unfortunately, the name of this blogger is not the best or ideal for academic purposes (which is why I didn’t type it). In their defense, they may just be really passionate about farm houses and wanted to emphasis that. Although I may never actually know why they picked their username, when viewing this blog, their knowledge and passion for farm houses (exterior and interior ) became crystal clear. Having a soft place for farmhouses (they are very warm, comfortable and inviting) and seeing that this blogger had good material on them, I decided the pros out way the cons.  I am sure the posts from this page, when looked at, will give a great sense of comfort and admiration.

I. Daily Deliciousness

* Even if you are in a hate - love relationship, at the end of the day, aside from nutritional necessity, who doesn’t actually love food? Viewing many of the foodie blogs on here, I decided this blog was filled with the most mouth watering dishes. Cooking is yet another of many hobbies I am sure that I share with many on here. I am always looking for new recipes to try or put my own spin on. Thus, I was very excited to find this page and look forward to seeing their posts in the future.

J. BC Santoralist

*  This hands down is THE blog I am most excited about! Although, I followed this page ages ago, I rediscovered it this weekend when doing this assignment and boy am I happy that I did! To back up a little bit, one of my biggest passions has always been fashion (ik now days sometimes by how I actually dress i.e. sweats , old jeans and t-shirts its hard to tell but it is true). Way back in 2012 when I started my college pursuits, I majored in fashion design with “wanna-be” dreams of being a famous American designer fighting for modesty and woman. Leading up to my one year of pursuing fashion design, in high school, I did a lot of research on various designers and media. In a tech class, where we had to follow three blogs of our choice, I learned about the Santoralist. The Santoralist combines fashion, ordinary life and photography all in one shot showcased on a blog. Founder Scott Schuman started this blog after leaving his fashion career in the midst of dealing with personal family issues as a fun project. The fun project of capturing ordinary New Yorkers attire on a day to day basis became a huge success and led to many connections and collaborations with big companies in and out of the fashion world. The blog still continues to catch the eye of many especially in the fashion world. What is cool about this particular blog, is that this blogger took Scott Schuman’s idea of ordinary people’s street fashion in a fashion capital like NYC and applied the concept to a college campus, namely Boston College. Having ties to this university and environment makes this strike all the more at home and exciting to view. However, this is also an age group and environment of people whose personal styles aren’t really looked at or highly focused on in a critical way making this a fresh perspective. Thus, this blog is original, exciting and fabulous to follow. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sartorialist)  

[diefalschemaryscott]

“It’s like the sun came out.”

Thursday, 18th October:

I guess, you assume that being abroad means a lot happens every day, and maybe you wondered why I haven’t been updating for ten days (yep, totally taking what you said, Ronnie, as everyone’s opinion).

In reality, my life here is not very exciting in that sense: it’s just everyday life in Glasgow. I spent most of my last ten days working on my first essay about the Irish famine, reading from getting up till I had to leave for university or some other social thing. Whenever I could, I went for walks around the cities or along the Kelvin (definitely my favourite walkway). I took a lot of pictures, thinking, I might post them without writing another blog post, but then I realised, I quite liked the structure of picture-text-picture-text, and waited for something so exciting to happen, that I had to share it with you.

Well, I went to see Edinburgh on Sunday and we walked around for six straight hours (stopping only briefly once), but I was so tired when I got back, that I couldn’t tell you about my trip.

Now I have to write a little something for my tutorial “Disease and Society” tomorrow (account for the devastating effects of the Influenza), but I am so uninspired about what to write, that I spend my time blogging. (I’m so glad, my parents read this blog as well, so they get to see how very productive I am! Did I mention that I kind of finished the first of two essays that are due in three weeks already! Just wanted to say that again, so I don’t have to feel bad about procrastinating a little…)

My good friend from the Roleplay Society asked me whether I wanted to do something on the weekend. My first thought was about all the work I had to do, about all the reading I somehow had to manage… my next thought was “well, it’s just gonna rain anyway…”. It did rain a lot on Friday and Saturday – I don’t think it ever stopped for a second once it had started. More than once I was completely soaked through, so we didn’t go on one of these days. We decided on Sunday (trusting the weather app) and arrived in Edinburgh at ten o’clock to a rather grey sky. The city was still extremely pretty.

My friend proposed to walk up a narrow alleyway, but since it said that it would be monitored by CCTV cameras, I was hesitant. It looked like it belonged to a very old building and I had too much respect to just walk there, however pretty it looked. Turned out that was the university of Edinburgh and of course we were very much allowed to walk up the steep steps. We arrived on the main street of the old town. And what an old town it was!

I like to write for my own pleasure… but I wish I would be able to describe the beauty of this street to you. Don’t think I’ll be able to, though.

On the street were several performers, singers, back pipe players and such all over the old town (and quite a lot of tourists). We made our way up to the castle first, enjoying the view we had over the city. There is a nature reserve with quite a hill in the middle the city, which seemed rather random to me. I love how the city planners decided to keep the hill rather than building over it.

From the castle entrance you could also see the sea, so we decided to walk there. We walked along the main street, looking left and right, seeing all these shops that sold practically the same things, like tartan scarfs and the like. You could see that Edinburgh was more of a tourist city than Glasgow, since there were no grocery shops on the main street (in comparison, Sauchiehall Street, the one that I walk down to university which is also the main shopping street in Glasgow, hosts at least four of the main grocery stores).

We found a Tesco in one of the side roads and bought some baked goods. From there we basically lost our way and only followed any road that looked like it could direct us to the sea. We kind of knew where we were while being there (we had a map), but when I tried to trace our steps afterwards, I don’t think I actually was able to find the way we took. We ended up at the sea, but with all the grey sky and just industry behind us it was not all that impressing. We saw there that the sun had come out over the city and made our way back.

We were pretty tired by then but said friend proposed to walk up one last hill – Carton Hill – and it was very much worth the effort! From there we had an amazing view over the whole city. We had our little break there, enjoying the view.

We went back to the old town, since that was the prettiest thing in Edinburgh, and then got back on the train (in which we both nearly fell asleep, that is how exhausted we were).

I should get back to my assignment. It’s luckily nothing that I will have to submit (at least I don’t think so), but I want to be able to join the conversation. Taking that seminar, I got the feeling that basically every period of mankind was in the hands of one or another disease. It’s a wonder that so many people are well and living today.

I still got an hour before I leave for Uni, so I’m not gonna waste any more time.

Hope you have a nice day as well,

Mary

 Friday, 19th October:

Ah, well. Turns out, I don’t like uploading directly after typing without being able to prove read my post.

My first essay is now near to entirely finished, I am half decided on my future study plans and I have started working on the next essay, being really fascinated about coal mining in the Ruhr Area. I never really thought that this might be a topic of interest to me.

Anyway, since this blog is some kind of logbook of my successes as well as failures, I should maybe mention that I failed with my social meet-up yesterday. It was organised by the Language Café – so there were really great people there – but we met up in some kind of bar-thing. The music there was way too loud, even though there was not even a place to dance. I tried to converse with people there, but I had to continually ask people to repeat their sentences, not because of their Scottish accent – I have come quite used to that – but because I just saw their lips moving and heard nothing. My friends left after about an hour and I stayed for another fifteen minutes before admitting to myself, that I really just wanted to go home and chat with a friend from home.

I had a demanding day at university today. It was really interesting. In the tutorial we talked about the Influenza and venereal diseases and their connection to war. And in the connected lecture we talked about the recognition of alcoholism as a disease. The last lecture on Catholic Ireland had me sitting on the edge of my seat, typing like crazy, because it was all so important.

Anyway, I was pretty done afterward and rather hungry, so I went home. After eating I started reading my stuff for the new essay; and realised in the midst of that, that I had completely forgotten about the social thing that afternoon. There was another Vagina Talk, and since I had quite enjoyed the last, I had wanted to go there, but it had completely slipped my mind.

Instead I read my papers (more than I had planned for today, since half of it turned out to be unrelated to my topic) and went for a walk, listening to my favourite podcast staring at the sunset.

Now, I spend some time online again… finding a lot of relatable tumblr post and listening to some music.

Have a good night,

Mary

*lyrics by Gabrielle Aplin “Start of Time”

[fashiontrendin-blog]

We Tried the Reverse Holiday Diet

http://fashion-trendin.com/we-tried-the-reverse-holiday-diet/

We Tried the Reverse Holiday Diet

This piece was originally published in December 2015. Can you even freaking believe it? An oldie but a goodie, we wanted to share our joint holiday extravaganza. Honestly, it’s all for you, Seth Cohen.

Amelia is Jewish only when it is convenient. That is, if you call her on Yom Kippur, you can rest assured she is eating a sandwich and reminding you about her baptism. When Purim rolls around, though? She’s the queen of costumes and alcoholic beverage consumption. Eating at a restaurant and the special is tender pork belly? She’s on it! And then as though it never happened, there she is, smearing white fish over her bagel, gossiping about the girls from Bridge club.

But I’ve had it, you know? She’s never even attempted atonement. So this year, at the intersection of our faiths: she put on her Hanukkah hat, I test drove (without a license!) right down St. Nick’s lane. There was only rule, which was that Amelia would write a diet for me and I would write one for her.

Here is what she put together, annotated with my reactions.

1) You’re going to need some sort of tree, or a wreath, or at the very least something to decorate.

I cannot commit to bringing Christ into my home, but I will happily pose with a tree on 1st Street, which is close enough.

Leandra: 1, Christmas: 1, Amelia: dead.

2) You will exclusively play Christmas music, and it has to be playing non-stop.

This was absolutely no problem whatsoever — I listen to the Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald holiday stations on Pandora almost exclusively, which I mentioned in a post that went live on December 11th. Two for me, Glen Coco. But I hate peppermint.

3) Throw/Attend at least one ugly sweater themed party.

Does claiming ownership over a photo of Beyoncé in the ugliest sweater party sweater count as having completed this task?

4) Drink eggnog

No.

5) Watch: Love Actually, It’s a Wonderful Life, Elf, Home Alone (or please refer to this list)

I watched Home Alone at least six times. Catherine O’Hara has one of the craziest faces I have ever seen on television. It is so underrated that she asks a flight attendant at the airport in Paris if they could help her charter a private plane home to Kevin for Christmas. Also, here’s a fun fact: John Candy improvised that entire scene where he talks about leaving his kid at a funeral home in the polka polka van when they’re getting O’Hara home to Kev. As you can see, I murdered this movie dance floor.

6) Send at least a few Christmas cards.

I did you one better and sent Christmas gifts. Each came with a card, and every single one said the same thing:

Dear Recipient,

Merry Christmas!

Your Jewish friend with a soul made of gelt,

Leandra

And then I attached a phone number for the orthodox Jewish conversion hotline!

7) Bake festive cookies and bring to office

I defer to you, Amelia, to tell the community about the vegan, gluten free cookies that I made for the office. Leave all tales of chipped teeth out — thx.

8) Order/drink a holiday special at Starbucks. Here’s the 2015 lineup:

Caramel Brulée Latte. Chestnut Praline Latte. Christmas Cookie Latte. Eggnog Latte. Gingerbread Latte. Honey And Almond Hot Chocolate. Peppermint Mocha. Toffee Nut Latte.

Leandra and Christmas: 2, Leandra’s waist line: 4777387219.

9) COUNT DOWN THE DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS.

No. Why would I count down the days until the end of my favorite Pandora stations? You are a masochist and I won’t engage with your antics.

10) Dress festive (red/green/sparkly).

I defer to this.

And this.

And this!

And here’s an outfit I wore last Sunday night.

Johanna Ortiz polka dot top and pants

And now, for Amelia’s diet.

So I grew up half-Jewish.

The entire world seemed to buy this or at least let me live until I met Leandra Medine about six years ago and she told me this made no sense. Technically, I understood her reasoning. Theoretically, however, I understood mine more. Dad: Jewish. Mom: Catholic. Me: Guilty.

But whatever, it meant I did a little bit of it all: a first communion here, a cousin’s bar mitzvah there, Easter, Passover, Christmas and Hanukkah. I’ve got about 10% of the prayers on both sides memorized and mumble along with the rest, just like how I sing along to the 2nd verse of Brandy and Monica’s “The Boy is Mine.”

When this holiday season rolled around and Leandra and I decided to swap customs, I secretly assumed I’d win. Channukah was only 8 days long — Christmas starts the second Thanksgiving ends so technically, she was already behind.

But that right there was first mistake. Not assuming I’d win, of course, but in spelling Hanukkah. Chanukah. Ḥanukah. חנוכה. I mean how the fuck do you spell this word if Google gives you 8234567 versions?! Watch me explore the variety in my diet below.

Next came Leandra’s insane assignment list that was designed to raise my cholesterol, get me arrested for cocaine consumption and make me broke.

Behold — her instructions, copied & pasted verbatim, in bold, followed by my results and notes:

1) You must consume at least one powdered jelly donut every single day. You must also make sure that powdered residue remains above your top lip for at least 20 minutes post consumption.

Finding traditional powdered “sufganiyah” with strong-enough Yelp reviews in New York City proved more difficult than one might imagine, especially considering that I am lazy and hate walking into stores.

I ended up spending 20 excruciating minutes on the phone with Doughnut Plant to confirm that their Hanukah doughnuts were legit and another 20 excruciating dollars to have them delivered.

They sent me the wrong ones (these were covered in peanuts as opposed to powder) so unfortunately, no Pablo Escobar ‘stache. They were, however, filled with blackberry jelly. I ate both of course and consider this a win.

Also of note: Leandra baked cookies, and they were actually good. Since she’s Jewish, I now consider these Jewish cookies and give myself an extra credit point.

2) Light the Menorah every night starting tonight and recite the prayers. 

Arguably the most important part of this holiday, I only lit the candle once.

And on the 2nd day. However, my excuse is that upon calling my (Jewish) grandmother to wish her a Happy Hanukah, she told me that lighting candles was very dangerous and not to do it ever again.

2a) You should also tell everyone Kendallabra is trying to steal Hannukah’s thunder.

No, Leandra.

3) Give up meditation for a week and instead play dreidl (basically the same thing)

I don’t meditate (can you tell?!?!?!?!? EIieoSIHG OSHOUh!! ! ! ! !) so this was easy to give up. Meanwhile, dreidel — the 10th word in this “diet” with 100 different variations on its spelling — became my new favorite way to make noise in the office.

4) Eat potato pancakes for breakfast, tell people they’re latkes and that eating them sure beats doing homework.

Another culinary fail. The restaurant “ran out.” I was mad but I’m also half-Irish so I know the struggle of a potato famine well.

5) Buy me a gift every night for all eight nights

It’s the thought that counts?

6) Whenever asked how you’re doing this week, you must answer, “Wonderful! I am celebrating the miracle of light!” — and then go into the extensive Biblical narrative wherein the Maccabees light a menorah in the holy temple and the light lasts for eight days. Then interrupt yourself and say that this is just one of the stories we tell ourselves in order to live.

I opted out and wore a menorah hat instead.

6a) Remind people that though Joan Didion is not Jewish, her birthday does overlap with Hanukah this year.

Mostly I just reminded people how Thanksgiving coincided with Hanukah last year and repeatedly brought up Seth Cohen’s creation of Chrismukkah.

7) Learn to say “suvganiyot,” which means jelly donuts in hebrew.

Easy like the Internet.

8) Memorize the lyrics to this song, become a pubescent boy with the vocal talent of an angel on acid.

I remain a post-pubescent woman. However, I also much prefer the Maccabeats:

9) Stop spending US dollars, force vendors to take “gelt” (it’s gold coin chocolate)

Uber loved this!!!

10) Commit an orthodox conversion

Awkward…Christmas is coming soon, so no can do.

But you didn’t think I’d let myself lose, right?

Just like the Maccabees said — it’s a miracle.

Feature illustration by via The Miami Herald/MCT via Getty Images; collages by Krista Anna Lewis and Emily Zirimis.

[shaylyngoesabroad-blog]

October 24th: Thoughts of  Identity while driving through Scotland

Growing up I always though of myself as Irish. St. Patrick’s Day was the most anticipated holiday in my house—filled with green afro wigs, shamrock sunglasses, “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” tees, and a trip to the St. Patrick’s Day parade in our capitol city, which my sister danced in for years; pale, freckled, a copper tint to her hair, all very Irish, really. My father’s goatee would even turn green for the occasion once he discovered the miracle of colored hair spray.

I knew that I had relatives that came straight from Ireland. My father kept his grandmother’s passport framed and hung with pride on the wall leading into his kitchen in his condo. I brought it to school for a project about immigration in 8th grade and he bothered me for weeks about when he’d have it back.

For a long time I told people that I was ¾ Irish. Maybe my parents exaggerated my heritage or—more likely—my simplistic mind couldn’t understand the complexities of lineage, so until 3rd grade I thought my dad had 100% pure Guinness flowing through him, and my mom was the half-breed of Irish and not English, but very specifically Cornish descent. This adamancy that I wasn’t really English stemmed from a variety of things, but mostly my dad’s generally-kidding anti-English statements, and a conversation I very clearly remember having with my grandmother on my mom’s side.

“You’re English, right Grammy Dot?” I’d asked her one day when we’d been left in her care while my mom and dad had work or errands or something.

She was too quick at denying it. “No, no. My family is from Cornwall and England just decided to claim it, so I’m Cornish and so are you,” she’d explained, grabbing me to blow a raspberry on my face when I giggled at ‘Cornish’ because, naturally, I pictured a bunch of cornstalks talking in British accents (I blame Veggie Tales for such a vivid image).

After that I became ¾ Irish, 1/16 Cornish, and then the rest was a blurred mix of Scottish and a tiny bit of English that I felt too far removed from (and strangely ashamed of) to really accept.

I think my first identity crisis happened in 5th grade when one of my teachers was going down the attendance list to learn names and got to mine.

“MacKinnon, now that’s a Scottish name ya wee lassie,” a Hollywood Scottish accent thrown in at the end (I recently learned from my tour guide here in Scotland that movie-Scottish follows the lyrical tone of Galway).

I told him I was mostly Irish, actually, and pointed out my first name—mind you, up until this point I’d always believed my last name was Irish. It wasn’t until I got home and asked my dad that I discovered the “a” in our name identified us as a Scottish clan, Irish names are just “Mc” (a mistake people often make when spelling my name on programs and such).

Suddenly I wasn’t as Irish as I thought. I became ½ Irish, ¼ Scottish, and the rest of me was that forgotten English and proud subset of Cornish. I felt a bit like a sham. Why did I do Irish Step Dancing for years, gluing poodle socks to my legs (and the fine hair that covered them), and basically sewing curly wigs to my head, if I wasn’t really Irish?

I only got less Irish as I grew up.

 Over the years I started to identify more with the Scottish side out of obligation to my name. In 7th grade I went to a Scottish festival in my capitol city with my dad and convinced him to buy me a pin with a sword and our family crest (a deer bone wedged in the mouth of a boar’s head) which I wore on my pink and blue plaid backpack for the rest of the year.

By high school I’d accepted that I was more English than I’d thought, too. As much as my mom embraced an Irish lineage, when she sent her DNA to one of those genealogy sites, it turned out that she was virtually all English (I wasn’t too scandalized though because Cornwall was in there). The even bigger shocker was that she was apparently 8% Persian—I’ve never associated myself with anything outside of the islands of Ireland and the UK. And I didn’t feel the need to go to a Persian-equivalent of St. Patrick’s Day (Persian doesn’t even exist anymore, so what would I really be celebrating?). It makes me wonder what led to that addition, but beyond that, it doesn’t affect my identity in the least, and so what does that say about using your blood to identify yourself? Nonetheless, after that test I’ve now become more English than anything else—much to the disappointment to my younger self.

The final stake in my predominantly Irish identity was when I went to Ireland for the first time at 15. I flew over with a group of students and teachers from my high school, determined to see the homeland of my family—the land where it all began. But when we reached the airport and went through customs, the man who stamped my passport read my name and joked, “You’re on the wrong island with that name,” and said he hoped I’d see Scotland while I was abroad.

A few days later, my best friend and I, during our free time in Dublin, decided to go to a leprechaun museum.

On a side note, I love knowing the meanings behind names and had googled my own plenty of time before arriving in Ireland, and had, by that point, concluded that my name was of Gaelic origin and meant “of the fairy fort” or “from the fairy palace” or, my personal favorite, “fairy princess”.

I wanted to confirm this, so at the leprechaun museum’s gift shop I asked one of the women who worked as a tour guide if that was accurate, based on her knowledge of faeries and Gaelic (she was the closest to an expert I was going to get). Her answer was that, yes, in fact it could mean that based on some Gaelic etymology of ‘shea’ and ‘lynn’, but the lack of confidence in her response left me a bit deflated.

So there it was. My own name wasn’t even Irish enough to be called Irish by a real Irish person. So was I Irish at all? I mean, while I was in Ireland (or literally anywhere abroad), when someone asked me what I was, I said American, of course. It’s only in the US that I become some fraction of Irish, Scottish, and English—a fraction that is constantly in flux.

I’ve found though, that where I felt like a fraud in pretending to be Irish in Ireland, I am more comfortable to make the Scottish claim in Scotland. It’s all in the name, really. With the “Mac” prefix and basic knowledge about the story behind the crest, the motto (Audentes Fortuna Juvat: Fortune aids the daring), and the origins in the Isle of Skye, people here readily accept my connection, no matter how watered now it is. That’s the power of a name I guess.

I know I’ll raise my kids to love St. Patrick’s Day—my dad will probably insist on taking them to parades (dragging them when they’re at the awkward few years where they’re bored with the floats but can’t enjoy a pint of Guinness to make it better). But when I marry, if I take the man’s name and it’s not Scottish, will they be able to have the same confidence in their Scottish ancestry? Will their last name take precedence like mine did for me?

These are the thoughts I have driving passed lochs and hills on the way to the highlands of Scotland with my English mother.

[tempocannon]

Khaled Hussein & The Texas Room

[This is a feature I wrote for Eleven Magazine in spring 2016. Listen to The Texas Room.]

In a small bungalow in Tower Grove South, Louis Wall and I sit on a couch. Across a wide coffee table, Khaled Hussein and his teenage daughter confer. A huge TV showing a soccer game on mute dominates the wall closest to us; a giant fish tank with an electronic keyboard in front of it covers the opposite wall. The conversation is going a bit slower than your average music mag interview: Hussein speaks only snippets of English. His daughter is translating heroically, but she clearly has a few better things to do on a Saturday morning than answer a nosy stranger’s questions.

“Do you like living in the United States?” I ask.

His daughter translates the question quietly into Arabic, leaning to her father’s ear. Between my utter lack of Arabic and his minimal grasp of English, Hussein and I have had a hard time communicating, but the answer to this question comes easily. He looks directly at me. “Yes,” he says, smiling.

Like the stories of so many immigrants and refugees, the tale of Hussein’s path to his present home is full of false starts and reversals. Growing up in Iraq, he dreamed of becoming a singer, inspired by international icons like George Michael as well as local singers. He got his start hustling in local restaurants and clubs, and soon had a career on his hands. By the time he was a young adult, he’d become a minor pop sensation in Baghdad. A music video still in circulation in the Arabic-language reaches of YouTube shows him in a dark suit, courting a woman in a red dress. Men decked out in full Arab thawb robes and agal headdresses dance joyously around the couple to a pounding beat. Hussein was very much the secular cool guy of 1990s Ba’athist Iraq until a changing political and religious climate hostile to secular singers (and then the American invasion of 2003) pushed Hussein and his family out of the country.

Hussein fled to the then-peaceful Syria, where he raised his young family and sought out work as a singer until the Syrian Civil War broke out in 2011. The Hussein family relocated to St. Louis, where they’ve lived since, out of reach of armed conflict but isolated, far away from friends and family back home.

Since Khaled left Iraq, he’s continued singing. He shows us a video on his cell phone after giving his daughter a wordless sign. (She reappears a moment later, holding a silver tray full of cookies and two glasses of Sunny D.) Onscreen, present-day Hussein stands decked out in white shirt and dinner jacket in the center of a crowd of dancers. He’s clad out in snazzy dress clothes, self-assured, gesturing to the crowd: every bit the professional.

Hussein’s American musical career might have taken place solely at Arab events if he hadn’t come into contact with Louis Wall through the St. Louis-based Center for Survivors of Torture and War Trauma. Wall was seeking participants for his recording project, The Texas Room, which pairs immigrant and refugee musicians with St. Louis locals to create unique conversations between disparate styles of music.

Wall, the slight, eloquent drummer of semi-defunct St. Louis rock group Jumbling Towers and present engineer at Cherokee Street’s Native Sound Recording, had been at work on the project for a couple of years. Years of conversations with friends in his indie-rock community caused him to realize that he had always been narrowly focused on American music. “I’d been playing in rock bands and jazz bands for the majority of my upbringing,” Wall says, “and the more I learned about other people’s cultures, I realized I had a pretty specific culture of my own, which excited me. But I wanted to know about other people’s stories because I was so in my own world. I wanted to know what kind of musician I could become if I worked with people way outside my social group.”

When he started the project, Wall reached out to the International Institute of St. Louis, which helps recent immigrants gain a foothold in the city. Wall got on the Institute’s message boards, and before long he had a short list of musicians he thought would make interesting collaborators. The project really took off when one of Wall’s friends got him in touch with a singer from Lagos, Nigeria. The singer needed a track recorded immediately for radio in Lagos, one of the biggest cities in the world.

Wall was the perfect guy for the job, because he happens to be an engineer at Native Sound Studio on Cherokee, the merger of his old apartment studio on Texas Avenue with David Beeman’s former studio across the street, behind The Bomb Door. The idea to make a full album out of his collaborations with refugee and immigrant musicians was gradual, though. Wall says, “I realized I could probably do a collaboration album at some point. I realized I wanted to do that before I had the materials or even people to do that. It was super sketchy even just to start.” So he started recording a song every month. Over the course of the last year Wall and his compatriots released one track each month on SoundCloud, culminating in the album Non-Fiction, out last month.

The songs are a blend of traditional material with Wall’s own riffs and beats. Some pieces were fleshed out collaboratively over the Internet; a few were created completely from scratch. Wall had a sort of house band that appeared on many of the tracks, but due to budgetary constraints Wall acted as the nerve center of the project, coordinating collaborators, coaching performances, and editing work made by a group of people that eventually ballooned to fifty collaborators from over fifteen nations.

Wall would begin each month by deciding which of the musical ideas he was working with were either most exciting at that time or ripest to be taken to another stage. Typically, the next collaborator would be someone as far away from the original contributor as possible. “The last song we did [“Gau Sorai Uchali”] was a Nepali devotional song,” Wall relates. “I remember my friend Lisa was playing Irish flute at the time. I said, ‘Do you want to do this song? I think flute would be great on it,’ and it worked out perfectly. I think it sounds like one cohesive unit. But these people probably would have never met and these styles aren’t normally played together.”

Bringing in disparate collaborators on his own time allowed Wall time to create an artistic product to his personal standards, but it did impede the improvisational chemistry that could have come about if he had been able to get all the collaborators on a particular song in a room together. The project was funded by the New York-based organization Fractured Atlas in conjunction with the local Regional Arts Commission, but time constraints and the significant budgetary issues associated with booking time in a professional studio prevented Wall from setting up weekend-long sessions in which all of the collaborators could collectively come up with an arrangement. “These musicians are great and they can really feed off each other,” he says “My only regret is that I wasn’t able to get everyone in a room together. I was able to produce and arrange through the computer, but these are playing musicians who are way better musicians than I am, and could have worked a lot faster.”

Despite budgetary and time constraints, the sessions in which players actually did meet up and play together flowed smoothly. Many of the participants are professional musicians, and many have a conversational command of English, but Wall found that any remaining linguistic barriers melted away in the studio. “My buddy Khaled,” Wall says, “I had to communicate through his daughter. So I’d have to put up a microphone in front of him and hope for the best. Not only was it hard to communicate with him, it was hard to communicate abstract ideas like, ‘put a little more expression into this note, or put a little more feeling into this note, or watch the attack of this note, watch your timing,’ cues that would help a singer get through a session. I just couldn’t communicate any of those. His daughter isn’t a musician. She couldn’t translate these esoteric things into Arabic at all. That was a struggle, but he could tell when I was psyched when things were going well, and he’s a professional, so for the most part if we were both feeling good, then we were satisfied with it.”

The tracks on Non-Fiction are proof of the cohesion Wall found with his collaborators. “Unde Dragoste,” a clarinet-heavy tune sung by Romanian vocalist and guitarist Ben Tulin with backing vocals from Spanish-language group Adria and Her Treasures, showcases the project’s jazzy, elegant, emotive side. “Red River Valley,” dedicated to the memory of Eric Garner and performed by Natalie Huggins with The Voice of the Holy Spirit African Choir, presents an unsettling blend of soulful piano pop with chanting and vocal collage. “Tora Tora Tora” delves into hip-hop territory, with verses by 18andCounting and Smoll Mashup and a chorus by Khaled Hussein. My personal favorite, “Gau Sorai Uchali (Psalm 150)” demonstrates the project at its best, wrapping the touching, gonzo ebullience of an old Nepalese devotional song with an adrenalized drumbeat. The combinations of instruments and idioms are striking, but Wall’s careful cultivation of analog warmth and ability to swaddle the compositions in the production values of ‘60s and ‘70s pop bind the threads together into a cohesive whole. The lyrics—penned by Wall and the collaborators—work to tie the album together as well, meditating in a slew of languages on the power of collective action to overcome injustice.

While Wall is clearly focused on empowering immigrants and publicizing the work of musicians from foreign countries, his central place in The Texas Room project does raise questions of cultural appropriation. The histories of pop and “world music” are riddled with examples of white musicians employing the music of people of color to their own advantage. Ry Cooder has caught flack throughout his career for inserting himself into the music of other cultures for a profit. Paul Simon was lambasted for incorporating the compositions of uncredited South African musicians into his mondo-hit Graceland. And it’s easy to see the early histories of rock, jazz, and the blues as instances of the powerful borrowing from the disenfranchised. Whatever your understanding of the fine line between reverent imitation and colonialist plundering, it’s clear that Wall is wrestling with the issue and taking care to work for the whole circle of collaborators, not just for himself. “I think it depends on your intention,” he says, choosing his words with care. “There are definitely a lot of people taking non-Western music and making it accessible to Western ears. If that is the intention, then I have no interest. My interest and intention lies on me interfacing with other people and other cultures, and not trying to dumb it down or water it down. Hopefully, if I’m doing my job right, I’m going to speak my truth and my culture on these songs and not try to pretend like I’m taking on someone else’s role insincerely, and let the other people speak their truth.”

Wall admits that he is at the center of The Texas Room. “I’m the biggest benefactor of this project,” he acknowledges, “I have no shame in that. I think artistically I took whatever direction I wanted to take. At the end of the day I’m still arranging everything. This is my way of opening my mind and my door a little bit to my neighbors. I just think it’s important that we listen to each other. When you listen and put a face to a name, that can really help with empathy and compassion. I just realized that empathy is not compassion. I just realized that empathy is the ability to see yourself in someone else’s shoes, but it doesn’t mean you’re going to do anything about it. You also have to have compassion.”  

By the measure of allowing Wall to meet his neighbors and practice compassion in the St. Louis music community, The Texas Room project seems to have been a resounding success. In Khaled Hussein’s living room, the Iraqi singer interrupts our halting conversation to give a demonstration. He sits down at his keyboard (flanked by tropical fish), taking care first to point out his new mixing board to Wall, indicating the device with his characteristically bashful charm. “Nice,” Wall returns, and the two share a momentary grin. If music is the universal language, musical gear must work at an even deeper for musicians. These two men don’t need words.

Hussein turns on his programmed drumbeat, the downbeat-heavy rhythm used in so much Middle Eastern pop, and begins singing, his voice strained with emotion from the first note. He wends his way up and down a scale abundant with twists and turns foreign to my American ears before tapping out the melody on the keyboard, daughter bored on the sofa, Wall and me rapt. As Hussein plays the last note, he looks up, radiant.

[samclapp]

Khaled Hussein & the Texas Room

[This is a feature I wrote for Eleven Magazine in spring 2016.]

In a small bungalow in Tower Grove South, Louis Wall and I sit on a couch. Across a wide coffee table, Khaled Hussein and his teenage daughter confer. A huge TV showing a soccer game on mute dominates the wall closest to us; a giant fish tank with an electronic keyboard in front of it covers the opposite wall. The conversation is going a bit slower than your average music mag interview: Hussein speaks only snippets of English. His daughter is translating heroically, but she clearly has a few better things to do on a Saturday morning than answer a nosy stranger’s questions. 

“Do you like living in the United States?” I ask.

His daughter translates the question quietly into Arabic, leaning to her father’s ear. Between my utter lack of Arabic and his minimal grasp of English, Hussein and I have had a hard time communicating, but the answer to this question comes easily. He looks directly at me. “Yes,” he says, smiling.

Like the stories of so many immigrants and refugees, the tale of Hussein’s path to his present home is full of false starts and reversals. Growing up in Iraq, he dreamed of becoming a singer, inspired by international icons like George Michael as well as local singers. He got his start hustling in local restaurants and clubs, and soon had a career on his hands. By the time he was a young adult, he’d become a minor pop sensation in Baghdad. A music video still in circulation in the Arabic-language reaches of YouTube shows him in a dark suit, courting a woman in a red dress. Men decked out in full Arab thawb robes and agal headdresses dance joyously around the couple to a pounding beat. Hussein was very much the secular cool guy of 1990s Ba’athist Iraq until a changing political and religious climate hostile to secular singers (and then the American invasion of 2003) pushed Hussein and his family out of the country.

Hussein fled to the then-peaceful Syria, where he raised his young family and sought out work as a singer until the Syrian Civil War broke out in 2011. The Hussein family relocated to St. Louis, where they’ve lived since, out of reach of armed conflict but isolated, far away from friends and family back home.

Since Khaled left Iraq, he’s continued singing. He shows us a video on his cell phone after giving his daughter a wordless sign. (She reappears a moment later, holding a silver tray full of cookies and two glasses of Sunny D.) Onscreen, present-day Hussein stands decked out in white shirt and dinner jacket in the center of a crowd of dancers. He’s clad out in snazzy dress clothes, self-assured, gesturing to the crowd: every bit the professional.

Hussein’s American musical career might have taken place solely at Arab events if he hadn’t come into contact with Louis Wall through the St. Louis-based Center for Survivors of Torture and War Trauma. Wall was seeking participants for his recording project, The Texas Room, which pairs immigrant and refugee musicians with St. Louis locals to create unique conversations between disparate styles of music.

Wall, the slight, eloquent drummer of semi-defunct St. Louis rock group Jumbling Towers and present engineer at Cherokee Street’s Native Sound Recording, had been at work on the project for a couple of years. Years of conversations with friends in his indie-rock community caused him to realize that he had always been narrowly focused on American music. “I’d been playing in rock bands and jazz bands for the majority of my upbringing,” Wall says, “and the more I learned about other people’s cultures, I realized I had a pretty specific culture of my own, which excited me. But I wanted to know about other people’s stories because I was so in my own world. I wanted to know what kind of musician I could become if I worked with people way outside my social group.”

When he started the project, Wall reached out to the International Institute of St. Louis, which helps recent immigrants gain a foothold in the city. Wall got on the Institute’s message boards, and before long he had a short list of musicians he thought would make interesting collaborators. The project really took off when one of Wall’s friends got him in touch with a singer from Lagos, Nigeria. The singer needed a track recorded immediately for radio in Lagos, one of the biggest cities in the world.

Wall was the perfect guy for the job, because he happens to be an engineer at Native Sound Studio on Cherokee, the merger of his old apartment studio on Texas Avenue with David Beeman’s former studio across the street, behind The Bomb Door. The idea to make a full album out of his collaborations with refugee and immigrant musicians was gradual, though. Wall says, “I realized I could probably do a collaboration album at some point. I realized I wanted to do that before I had the materials or even people to do that. It was super sketchy even just to start.” So he started recording a song every month. Over the course of the last year Wall and his compatriots released one track each month on SoundCloud, culminating in the album Non-Fiction, out last month.

The songs are a blend of traditional material with Wall’s own riffs and beats. Some pieces were fleshed out collaboratively over the Internet; a few were created completely from scratch. Wall had a sort of house band that appeared on many of the tracks, but due to budgetary constraints Wall acted as the nerve center of the project, coordinating collaborators, coaching performances, and editing work made by a group of people that eventually ballooned to fifty collaborators from over fifteen nations. 

Wall would begin each month by deciding which of the musical ideas he was working with were either most exciting at that time or ripest to be taken to another stage. Typically, the next collaborator would be someone as far away from the original contributor as possible. “The last song we did [“Gau Sorai Uchali”] was a Nepali devotional song,” Wall relates. “I remember my friend Lisa was playing Irish flute at the time. I said, ‘Do you want to do this song? I think flute would be great on it,’ and it worked out perfectly. I think it sounds like one cohesive unit. But these people probably would have never met and these styles aren’t normally played together.”

Bringing in disparate collaborators on his own time allowed Wall time to create an artistic product to his personal standards, but it did impede the improvisational chemistry that could have come about if he had been able to get all the collaborators on a particular song in a room together. The project was funded by the New York-based organization Fractured Atlas in conjunction with the local Regional Arts Commission, but time constraints and the significant budgetary issues associated with booking time in a professional studio prevented Wall from setting up weekend-long sessions in which all of the collaborators could collectively come up with an arrangement. “These musicians are great and they can really feed off each other,” he says “My only regret is that I wasn’t able to get everyone in a room together. I was able to produce and arrange through the computer, but these are playing musicians who are way better musicians than I am, and could have worked a lot faster.”

Despite budgetary and time constraints, the sessions in which players actually did meet up and play together flowed smoothly. Many of the participants are professional musicians, and many have a conversational command of English, but Wall found that any remaining linguistic barriers melted away in the studio. “My buddy Khaled,” Wall says, “I had to communicate through his daughter. So I’d have to put up a microphone in front of him and hope for the best. Not only was it hard to communicate with him, it was hard to communicate abstract ideas like, ‘put a little more expression into this note, or put a little more feeling into this note, or watch the attack of this note, watch your timing,’ cues that would help a singer get through a session. I just couldn’t communicate any of those. His daughter isn’t a musician. She couldn’t translate these esoteric things into Arabic at all. That was a struggle, but he could tell when I was psyched when things were going well, and he’s a professional, so for the most part if we were both feeling good, then we were satisfied with it.”

The tracks on Non-Fiction are proof of the cohesion Wall found with his collaborators. “Unde Dragoste,” a clarinet-heavy tune sung by Romanian vocalist and guitarist Ben Tulin with backing vocals from Spanish-language group Adria and Her Treasures, showcases the project’s jazzy, elegant, emotive side. “Red River Valley,” dedicated to the memory of Eric Garner and performed by Natalie Huggins with The Voice of the Holy Spirit African Choir, presents an unsettling blend of soulful piano pop with chanting and vocal collage. “Tora Tora Tora” delves into hip-hop territory, with verses by 18andCounting and Smoll Mashup and a chorus by Khaled Hussein. My personal favorite, “Gau Sorai Uchali (Psalm 150)” demonstrates the project at its best, wrapping the touching, gonzo ebullience of an old Nepalese devotional song with an adrenalized drumbeat. The combinations of instruments and idioms are striking, but Wall’s careful cultivation of analog warmth and ability to swaddle the compositions in the production values of ‘60s and ‘70s pop bind the threads together into a cohesive whole. The lyrics—penned by Wall and the collaborators—work to tie the album together as well, meditating in a slew of languages on the power of collective action to overcome injustice. 

While Wall is clearly focused on empowering immigrants and publicizing the work of musicians from foreign countries, his central place in The Texas Room project does raise questions of cultural appropriation. The histories of pop and “world music” are riddled with examples of white musicians employing the music of people of color to their own advantage. Ry Cooder has caught flack throughout his career for inserting himself into the music of other cultures for a profit. Paul Simon was lambasted for incorporating the compositions of uncredited South African musicians into his mondo-hit Graceland. And it’s easy to see the early histories of rock, jazz, and the blues as instances of the powerful borrowing from the disenfranchised. Whatever your understanding of the fine line between reverent imitation and colonialist plundering, it’s clear that Wall is wrestling with the issue and taking care to work for the whole circle of collaborators, not just for himself. “I think it depends on your intention,” he says, choosing his words with care. “There are definitely a lot of people taking non-Western music and making it accessible to Western ears. If that is the intention, then I have no interest. My interest and intention lies on me interfacing with other people and other cultures, and not trying to dumb it down or water it down. Hopefully, if I’m doing my job right, I’m going to speak my truth and my culture on these songs and not try to pretend like I’m taking on someone else’s role insincerely, and let the other people speak their truth.”

Wall admits that he is at the center of The Texas Room. “I’m the biggest benefactor of this project,” he acknowledges, “I have no shame in that. I think artistically I took whatever direction I wanted to take. At the end of the day I’m still arranging everything. This is my way of opening my mind and my door a little bit to my neighbors. I just think it’s important that we listen to each other. When you listen and put a face to a name, that can really help with empathy and compassion. I just realized that empathy is not compassion. I just realized that empathy is the ability to see yourself in someone else’s shoes, but it doesn’t mean you’re going to do anything about it. You also have to have compassion.”  

By the measure of allowing Wall to meet his neighbors and practice compassion in the St. Louis music community, The Texas Room project seems to have been a resounding success. In Khaled Hussein’s living room, the Iraqi singer interrupts our halting conversation to give a demonstration. He sits down at his keyboard (flanked by tropical fish), taking care first to point out his new mixing board to Wall, indicating the device with his characteristically bashful charm. “Nice,” Wall returns, and the two share a momentary grin. If music is the universal language, musical gear must work at an even deeper for musicians. These two men don’t need words. 

Hussein turns on his programmed drumbeat, the downbeat-heavy rhythm used in so much Middle Eastern pop, and begins singing, his voice strained with emotion from the first note. He wends his way up and down a scale abundant with twists and turns foreign to my American ears before tapping out the melody on the keyboard, daughter bored on the sofa, Wall and me rapt. As Hussein plays the last note, he looks up, radiant.