#hungry very occasionally blogs about cricket

[thehungrycity]

Watching a great Australia vs Afghanistan T20 world cup match! Also great to see such a large Afghan turnout for it, they're really enjoying the game and it's really coming down to the wire. On the edge of my seat to see who wins!

[petspersonified-blog]

Hello!

Hello one, hello all, and welcome to PetsPersonified, where all of my pets are humanized and personalized.

First, let me introduce you to my pets (these are the ones I have now, and will update as time passes. The About the Pets link will change with the pets).

Here are all the pets! Each ask won’t be answered in color, but it’ll be answered in a similar style/in traditional if I can’t access my laptop.

Here’s what the pets look like in real life;

^This is Gerkie, around 8-10 years old and very quirky. She is bonded to me only, so she has a seething hatred for anyone else (save for a select few). She is a female Quaker Parrot and very sweet, singing songs and overall whistling to locate where I am. She has a missing toe from an incident with Bacall, but she is doing just fine health wise!

^This is Bacall, gender unknown, so their character goes by they/them pronouns. They’re a 7-9 year old Senegal parrot who tends to be very jumpy. They’re very sweet otherwise, not really bonded to one person in particular and loves almost everyone in the house. This little demon is, in fact, the one who bit Gerkies toe off and left me a worried bird parent for a full 24 hours. They do not get along with the other two birds and vice versa.

^This is Smokey. His age is unknown due to him being a rescue. We found him on our backyard fence and found that he was tame, so we picked him up. No fellow bird parent called by to retrieve him. He is a very anxious bird who is bonded to himself in the mirror (hence his narcissistic personality in-character). He likes the occasional head scratch, but besides that, NO TOUCH!! 

^This is Luci (short for Lucifer). She is also a rescue, so her age is also unknown. She is a black and white Syrian hamster who, when I first rescued her, was very much more wild and prone to biting. However, with more handling, she has gotten used to me and others, but still has a tendency to jump out of peoples hands. Her previous owners where severely cruel, which explains the small cage from before and the lack of exercise wheel. She hates just about everyone and has been deemed (by me) as Vaniglias adopted sister.

^This is Vaniglia (pronounced va-knee-lee-a)! She is a 1 year old peach-colored Syrian hamster who is a natural born sweetheart (which is funny because apparently Syrian hamsters are supposed to be mean). She loves peanuts and crackers and will stuff almost anything in her mouth. She has a tendency to run on her wheel with her cheeks stuffed. She is not the smartest baby of the bunch, but she is definitely one of the sweetest!

^This is Rosie, a guest-pet (i'm dogsitting her). She is a 2-3 year old blue nosed pit bull rescue who loves people and food. She is a natural sweetheart, snuggling at every chance she gets. Her tail never stops wagging, unless there's a thunderstorm. She is very intelligent, almost seeming to understand what someone says to her. She purposefully comes off as ditzy to surprise people. (She is not drawn in the art above)

^This is Pompeii. He is around 14 years old and very fuzzy. He's a noisy pomeranian who never leaves my grandmothers side. As a side effect of his age, he has no teeth and his tongue hangs out. Otherwise he's a sweet dog who likes to play, even for his age. Even when his bark is annoying, he can still be good.

And finally, This^ is Exo! He's a 1 year old bearded dragon with a severe back deformity. Regardless, he is a hungry little lizard who likes to run around and receive pets. Months back he had a siezure from eating petsmarts live cricket feed (to this day i don't know exactly what caused this), and ever since he was sick. However, with my care and attention, he's been brought back as much as he could be, save for the mangled back. And even though he's changed slightly ever since the incident, he's still my good boy who loves crickets and running.

And those are my pets featured on this blog! More may be announced depending, and of course, updates will come around on pets health and aging. Their personalities will be more prevalent within asks the pets receive and within interactions between each other.

Thank you for following and, if you could, please reblog to spread the word about my blog! 💕💕

[the-desolated-quill]

The Hungry Earth - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

The day Steven Moffat announced he was finally going to relieve us of our torment and leave the show for good, my reaction was mixed to say the least. On the one hand, yes that bastard is no longer going to be ruining one of my favourite shows, but on the other hand he’s being replaced by Chris Chibnall. A writer who’s almost as incompetent as Moffat and has written some of the worst episodes of Doctor Who and its god awful spinoff series Torchwood. (And to those who occasionally ask me if I’m going to be reviewing Torchwood at some point, the answer is a definitive no. I have got other things to do, you know. Stop pestering me). While he has earned some of my respect since then by casting Jodie Whitaker as the first female Doctor (and about time too), I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t deeply concerned about the quality of the show moving forward.

I mention this because this two parter, The Hungry Earth and Cold Blood, was written by Chris Chibnall and I feel perfectly demonstrates all of his weaknesses and shortcomings as a writer.

In a small Welsh village in the year 2020, some scientists have drilled deep into the Earth’s crust, further than anyone has ever done before. But something is drilling up to the surface to meet them and has left some bio-programmed dirt (just go with it). Some guy called Mo, upon seeing this suspicious patch of dirt with steam coming out of it, does what any smart, sensible person would do and sticks his hand in it.

So he gets dragged underground, and soon enough Amy joins him in an admittedly tense scene where the Doctor desperately tries to hold on to her.

From there, this giant energy dome thing seals the village off from the outside world and the whole thing becomes a bog standard base under siege story. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with a base under siege story. It’s just the base under siege story has been done so often in Doctor Who now that it’s hard not to let your eyes glaze over while you’re watching it. Of course it’s possible to revitalise the base under siege narrative, like The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit did, but The Hungry Earth most certainly doesn’t. So the whole thing was a bit of a snoozefest for me if I’m honest. Everything you think is going to happen does happen and with an extra dose of stupidity. 

The Doctor tells everyone to set up shop in the church, but wouldn’t the TARDIS be safer? I know you can’t fly it because of the energy dome thing, but surely it’s better than a church. Then he gets everybody to set up a security surveillance network that covers the entire village in 8 minutes flat, which is remarkably daft even by Doctor Who’s standards, and it never goes anywhere. Then he gives Ambrose a strict telling off about her rather sensible decision to stockpile weapons. Sigh. I think I’ve mentioned numerous times before how much I despise New Who’s pacifist bullshit considering that the Doctor has always been pretty violent and has frequently used guns before despite claims to the contrary. I wouldn’t mind except the Doctor then completely contradicts himself a few minutes later. How is knocking the Silurians out with a sonic pulse any less violent than hitting them over the head with a cricket bat? And then, after bonding with the kid Elliot, he stupidly lets the kid run off to fetch his headphones just two minutes before the Silurians are due to arrive. What a pillock! Not that I was upset to see Elliot get taken. He’s a bland, one dimensional kid whose only character trait is he’s got dyslexia. Also I can’t fucking stand children. Especially fictional children. if I was there, not only would I hand Elliot over to the Silurians, I’d offer to gift wrap him for them as well. (Yes I am an arsehole. How did you know?).

Yes The Hungry Earth sees the return of classic series ‘monsters’ the Silurians, and my God do I wish Chris Chibnall wasn’t writing a Silurian story.

The thing is the Silurians have only ever had one good story, Doctor Who And The Silurians, way back in the Jon Pertwee era, and it was phenomenally good. A seven part serial that’s nuanced, morally complex and with a truly shocking ending that cemented the Doctor’s frosty relationship with UNIT. It’s one of my all time favourite Doctor Who stories and I recommend everyone should watch it. In all honesty, I’d have been okay if the Silurians never came back after that because it was a truly brilliant one shot story, but if we must keep bringing them back, they could at least find some way of moving the story forward. Instead all the BBC ever seem to do is just repeat the same story over and over again to diminishing returns. The Sea Devils was basically the same as Doctor Who And The Silurians only without the moral complexity, the reptiles now emerging from underwater rather than underground, and the pantomime villain the Master was in it for virtually no reason. Warriors Of The Deep tried to use the Silurians and Sea Devils to make a Cold War allegorical narrative that really didn’t work. And now here we are with The Hungry Earth. So this is the fourth time they’re telling story now and I’m sure you all know the drill (no pun intended). Reptiles want their planet back. Humans don’t want to give it back. Whatever shall the Doctor do? Been there, done that, got the T shirt.

Now let’s quickly address the elephant in the room. The new look for the Silurains. For the benefit of @captainivyb and others who may not be familiar with the classic series, this is what the original Silurians looked like:

YYYYYYeah. What can I say? It was the 1970s. But Doctor Who And The Silurians is still good, honest!

The new makeup definitely looks more convincing than the original Silurians, but I’m not too fond of it. They just look a bit too human for my liking. Couldn’t they at least have kept the third eye?

A definite highlight for me was seeing the Doctor interrogating Alaya, the Silurian they take hostage. It’s a really good two hander between Matt Smith and Neve McIntosh, who both add a lot of dramatic weight to a scene that, let’s be honest, doesn’t really deserve it. The reason Doctor Who And The Silurians worked so well was because all of the characters, human and Silurian, were well written and complex. It wasn’t a simple case of good vs evil. Both sides had a point and both sides do horrible things to the other, motivated either by fear or self preservation. Chibnall tries to replicate this here, but he’s not doing a very good job so far. While McIntosh gives a good performance with the material she’s been given, the character of Alaya is boringly one note. A rabid zealot with no sympathetic qualities whatsoever. The humans too are drawn with very broad strokes. Most of them aren’t even remotely interesting and despite the Doctor insisting that they can just trade hostages and everything will be okay, they’re still talking about dissecting Alaya. There’s no slow buildup or anything. No nuance or depth. They just jump straight to the most violent option. So much for showing the best of humanity. Frankly I’m amazed the Doctor still thinks a peace can be brokered between the two species considering this is the fourth time he’s tried to do this now and it’s always ended in disaster.

The only character I gravitated towards in any way was Nasreen, played by Meera Syal from The Kumars At No. 42. I enjoyed her open mindedness and scientific curiosity, and right from the off both she and the Doctor seem to have a mutual respect for each other. And Syal is always a ton of fun to watch in everything she’s in. In fact I liked her so much that at the time I may or may not have written Doctor Who fanfic with her as the companion... Well I’d sit down and watch that.

So that was The Hungry Earth. Bit dull and uninspired, but maybe things will get better in Part 2, right?

[erinelezabeth920]

Epilogue: Galapagos

Ha, thought you were done with me eh? In the spirit of epilogues, I’ll try to be brief, but hey it’s unlikely. This blog was really just an exercise in trying to document a crazy fast, once in a lifetime experience that could slip by in the blink of an eye. Tears in the rain, via Roy Batty via Blade Runner. The writing wasn’t stellar. There were typos and shitty internet. But hey. I did it. It’s there and that can never go away. And it really helped me to imagine (even if it was only imaginary) that there were people on the other side. So if you’ve made it this far, really. Really. Thank you.

***

I got picked up from Monica’s at 5:30 am. Chelsea, Mayra and I rode to the airport. After paying the Galapagos visa fee and some booking kerfuffles, I got on the flight first to Guayaquil, then Isla Baltra. Landing on the island was cool; windswept with cacti, surrounded by water. I had an issue paying the 100$ Parque entrance fee, as I didn’t know it couldn’t be card and the airport ATM was out of cash. The airport folks held on to my passport, saying to pick it up in the town when I had my money. Seemed questionable but what can you do.

I took a bus, boat and another bus from the airport to a crossing to another island, and down a windy road on that island to a town. We passed farms and mostly empty green space. Luckily the bus dropped me off right in front of my hostel. Cool.

The town was neat. A mix of locals and tourists with markets and ceviche places. I took a nap, found some ceviche, walked to the docks and watched a movie. I was dead tired. The next morning I rented a bike, went to the Darwin Research center, and tracked down my passport. I had dinner with my friend Jenna from the program who was also traveling.

The day after I slept late again, picked up my laundry and biked/ walked to a beach. I met Mayra and Chelsea there. We sat for a bit staring at the waves and discussing the program. We met later that night for dinner and ended up at the only bar in town chatting up locals. They reminded me of my friends from Orcas Island. When in Galapagos?

The next day I shelled out some of my dwindling money for a snorkeling trip. The seas were rough and it was cold, but we saw seals, sharks, fish, rays and the most beautiful sea turtles. The folks on the trip were funny too. Two german girls who were very sick convinced the recent college grad from UCLA to tell stories about his past 10 months in Ecuador the whole time as a distraction. Surprisingly it worked.

I grabbed dinner with Mayra and Chelsea again, but was too tired to stay out. I met them for lunch the next day, where they had talked up the waiter and were getting free drinks. #blondeprivelage

After that I caught a boat from the dock to another island, Isabella. I had left the majority of my stuff at the hostel as I’d be returning in three nights. The ride was bumpy, two hours long and terrible. I had to pay a 10$ “docking fee”, whatever that is.

I spent three nights on Isla Isabella. It was beautiful but kind of a tough time as I didn’t bring enough cash. As a result I was hungry a lot and kind of lonely, a little over traveling. Which is a crazy feeling to have in the Galapagos but travel is not all sexy photos and cool stuff, regardless where you are. I’d argue islands make you more lonely. Andy and Emily were off backpacking the Enchantments, one of the most beautiful places in Washington, and Andy was heading to a wedding on a lovely island outside of Seattle after. I was homesick and spent a lot of time waiting for instagram stories to load on the low quality internet.

There were highlights though. A hike to a volcanic crater where the guide (in Spanish) told us about growing up on the island, how the culture was changing with more tourism (white specifically) and less Spanish. I didn’t understand everything, but enough to figure out he conveniently left that part out to the English speaking Canadian contingency of the tour.

Another fun part was that my friends Jenna and Audrey from the program were around. We’d get dinner and talk about our days, other travels and all the things. I said bye to them Friday night. Mayra and Chelsea had left the day before from another island, so it was just me.

Another day I went kayaking and snorkeling. There was a beautiful German man paddling in a double with me who I was better than. My two German friends from the snorkeling trip were also there, looking much less sick. It was a blast. We saw penguins on the rocks, seals, a sharks and a turtle. I loved just sliding off the kayak right into the water. After that, I walked the length of the beach to the end, where a gravel road travelled up into some mangroves. At the end of the road was a cool rock wall waterfall thing but it was a ways and getting dark, so I climbed up a lookout instead. It was beautiful.

The next day I left Isabella at 3pm. I saw my German friends on the beach who were taking surf lessons and invited me, but I didn’t have the money. My phone charger and watch had also both died that day, and I kept having to ask strangers what time it was.

The ride back was 100x better, probably because of the sea sickness pill Jenna had given me. I checked back into the hostel, grabbed my things, and got some food. Seafood pasta which wasn’t that good. Should’ve gotten the ceviche and michelada, the always wise words of Erin forever in my head. Push that comfort zone.

The night was pretty. I said bye to the salt air and the ice cream and the seals sleeping on the bench, but I was tired and running out of money and pretty ready to go. The next morning I misunderstood the timing for the bus and had to take a 25$ taxi to the dock. It ended up being ok though because the driver was really nice, told me about living on a farm on the island and how he hates the rain (it was raining). Plus, on the side of the road, just munching on some leaves, I finally saw a tortoise in the wild.

So began my 24 hour journey from Galapagos to Boston with a taxi, boat, bus, plane, plane, plane, plane. There was another docking fee for the airport and I was so fed up with upcharges by that point, I only had 4$ cash and made them take it.

I saw my German friends at the airport again. Funny how traveling does that. Back in Quito I ate onion rings and a milkshake which made my stomach hurt, but my American self couldn’t resist. In Miami, I kept speaking Spanish because why not, until the baggage claim had issues and I thought I’d miss my flight to Boston through customs. I would’ve had an actual meltdown. I had very little left at that point. Luckily it was fixed and I got to the gate just in time, arriving in Boston at 10am. After confusing texts, because Boston is always confusing, I met Andy at the baggage claim. We went straight to Dunkin Donuts, as I’d barely eaten since Quito,and sat on a bench outside the airport in the hot muggy air, waiting for our Air Bnb to open up before we took the train into the city. I watched the Red Sox and Patriots hats go by, and held my iced coffee like a diamond. I talked and talked and talked, finally in person without the internet delay. And Andy smiled and listened and commented supportively. And occasionally hugged me to remember I was real, and we were happy.

We spent the next week with family and friends in Boston and Rockport Mass, and I was happy floating with comfort, family, good food, someone to sleep next to. I saw old friends in Boston, and a Seattle friend moving to Norway. My stomach didn’t hurt and my brother and his girlfriend came up from New York. We went sailing, drank wine with my aunts and uncles, did puzzles and played Euchre, ate lobster and it was maybe the happiest week of my life. Nothing like leaving to make you appreciate the things you love most.

Then, 5 days later we dropped off Colin, Lian and Andy at the airport and bus station in Boston in a rainstorm. My dad and dog and I drove back to Rochester. That’s where some of the post travel depression set in. In reverse culture shock phases there’s the honeymoon followed by the lull, the reaclimation. I didn’t sleep well, slept late in the mornings. I visited grandparents in nursing homes which is always hard when you never know which time is the last goodbye. Plus I think, regardless of travel or not, childhood homes as an adult are always hard, a strange mix of feelings.

On the plus side I had fresh peaches, good Italian food and cut all my hair off. I hung out with my parents, driving around looking at smaller houses they should move in to, knowing they’re happy where they are. The last night I went with my dad to race our sailboat on Lake Ontario. There was strong wind and I sat in the front, watching the sun set. We got first place, the same boat my grandparents raced 30 years before. I dove into the water and let it rock me, the original water as I spent the first two years of my life in a little house on Lake Ontario, carried in the waves in my mother’s arms before I could walk.

The sun set. The crescent moon rose. The crickets chirped. That heavy almost midwestern summer night. The men sat on the porch and talked about the race. I drank a Molson Canadian and flipped the sausages. I was flying out to Seattle in the morning. I took a breath and looked around, letting it seep in. This was home, deep and rooted as the heart on the sail of our boat. We can travel the world in wide circles, as far as we want but those strings, invisible strings will always ground us and root us to the earth, a small piece in the puzzle, branch of the tree of our family, ancestors and the bodily feel alignment, relaxing into your deepest, original self.

Until next time my friends.

Always in adventure,

Erin