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deadlymodern · 4 years ago

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Gen 1. Summary

Hello!

I know it might be a bit hard to keep up with legacy stories, so I tried my hardest to summarize the major events in the Norman Legacy so far just in case someone who is not up to date and has no time to go through all the posts wants to catch up!

It's quite a read for Tumblr standards (a bit less than 6 google document pages, to give you an idea), but I think it does the job. I hope this will help things make more sense to newcomers c:

This post will be linked in the Norman Legacy main page so you can easily access it if you'd like.

Once I update my theme (an endless wip), I will create a page fully dedicated to summaries of generations. But for now, I hope this will do.

So, without further ado:

Summary under the cut!

In the early 1870s, the young married couple, Edgar and Theresa Norman, built a farmhouse in the English village of Brindleton.

They had four children together: Bethany, Edward, Matthew and Phillip. But, due to complications in labour, Theresa passed away giving birth to their last son.

Theresa wanted her children to receive equal education. She enrolled her daughter in school and, on their way to Beth's first day, they met a little girl named Mary McNeill. However, after Theresa's death, Edgar pulled Bethany out of school so she could help him with the farm and house work.

Mary would visit Beth often and a very special bond between the girls flourished. Also, during her time away, Beth developed a passion for reading and writing as a way to express her feelings.

At the same time, Edward was crushing on his classmate Susana Harrison. They had a rocky start to their friendship, but eventually Ned apologized for hurting Sue and they became inseparable.

Time went by and, when Phillip was old enough to go to school, Edgar allowed Bethany to return to her studies. Beth and Mary started seeing each other every single day in class and were attached by the hip.

***

A few weeks before Mary's 16th birthday, Bethany and her were talking. Beth expressed her insecurities and Mary comforted her, assuring that she was utterly beautiful and that someone would most certainly ask her to dance on her birthday ball. The girls, then, wondered how it would feel to be kissed. Mary took the opportunity to tell Beth that "they should practice together", kissing her for the first time.

It all seemed fine to Beth until she realized Mary started to avoid her on the following days.

The girls spent a couple of weeks apart until Mary apologized for her coldness, explaining she was just scared of what she was feeling. She, then, convinced Beth to attend her birthday and they got ready together, trying to get back to how their friendship was before.

During the ball, Beth was trying to contain her jealousy as she saw Mary dance with her suitor, Timothy Laurence. She was having a bad time until she was asked to dance by a gentleman called William Carrington. He taught her the basics of the waltz and she had a lot of fun, until she noticed Mary leaving the ballroom with a saddened expression.

Beth followed her friend to the roof and, amidst tipsy giggles, Mary kissed Bethany again. This time, with a lot more meaning to it.

A few days after the ball, Beth went over to Mary's house but was greeted with bitterness. Mary told her they couldn't be friends anymore since she only had "sinful thoughts" when they were together. She also told Beth that she was to go to Finishing school in the Summer and, afterwards, marry Timothy.

Bethany, who didn't usually let her emotions out, was devastated and Ned consoled her.

Eventually, Edgar married a woman named Elizabeth Reginald and Ned & Sue fell in love with each other.

***

One day, while running errands in the nearby town of Battlemere, Beth met with William again. He asked if she was in town to apply for the Battlemere College entrance exam. She had never believed that was even a possibility for her, but after their banter, she became motivated to apply and take the test.

These news weren't well received by Edgar, who scolded both Bethany and Matthew, who gave her a ride. However, Matthew stood up for his sister and reprimanded his father for being absent as a parental figure ever since their mother's death. Elizabeth consoled the teenagers once Edgar stormed out of the house.

When Summer came, Mary's mother invited Bethany to her daughter's farewell dinner. She decided not to attend, as she hadn't spoken to her friend in months. But, for her surprise, Mary showed up at her house after said dinner and asked for Beth to come see her off in the morning. Mary also apologized for her behaviour and confessed to be in love with Beth.

Both women spent the night together and said a bittersweet goodbye in the morning with a promise to exchange letters.

Around the same time, Phillip met Dorothy Turner at the music group and they became good friends.

By mid-summer, Beth discovered that she did not pass the entrance exam. To cheer her up, William decided to take her to watch a film after they accidentally met again. From then on, they developed a good friendship.

Once she arrived home, Edgar announced that he'd allow her to study and retake the college exam, just as long as she got married first. Bethany felt conflicted with the deal and, to make her feel a little better, Matthew offered himself to help her with her studies.

***

After celebrating the end of the school year - and Bethany's graduation from school - Edward received Susana's father's permission to propose.

Beth and Mary kept their promise and wrote each other weekly letters. But Edgar also kept his end of the college deal: he started receiving possible suitors for his daughter. And, once Edward announced he was going to propose to Susana, Edgar made sure to add extra pressure on Beth by saying Ned was to marry only after his sister.

That same night, Beth and Ned had an argument that made her realize her brother was more similar to their father than she imagined.

For the next couple of months, Edgar and Ned decided to update the farm house. During the reforms, Bethany stayed at Susana's house. One day, Ned brought Beth a package from Mary, but found very peculiar how his sister's eyes filled with tears as she removed herself from the room to read her letter.

Finally, after the farmhouse remodel, Ned proposed to Sue and they got engaged.

***

Phillip and Dorothy were very excited after knowing they were to perform at the village's Winterfest. During the event at the main square, Mary showed up and surprised Beth.

William felt a bit jealous to be utterly forgotten by Bethany once her friend arrived and, then, realized he was in love with her.

While Flip and Dottie performed with the music group, Edward noticed how both Mary and William stared at his sister in a similar loving way, but Sue made him cast the very idea aside.

Throughout January, Beth and Mary spent every waking moment together, enjoying the little time they had until Mary had to return to Germany. One day, the women hiked up to Whitecliff to spend some safe time alone. There, the girls confessed their deep love for each other and their desire to be together, promising to run away once Mary is finished.

At the same time, Flip and Dottie started spending more time together as well. For the first time in years, Phillip spoke about his mother and the guilt he carried for feeling "responsible" for her death. Dottie advised him to learn more about his mum as a healing process. So, on his 14th birthday, Phillip asked Edgar about his mum and Edgar showed his children a box of things that belonged to Theresa. That comforted Flip a little.

On Mary's birthday - the day after Phillip's - Beth decided to giver her the ring that belonged to her mother as they would never have a proper engagement ring. During Mary's birthday dinner, Edward noticed the ring and confronted his sister about it, only to be shunned down. Their relationship was going sour.

Beth and Mary spent their last night together and said a hopeful goodbye in the morning.

***

In Germany, at the Windenburg Finishing School, some of the girls began commenting on the amount of letters Mary would receive from Beth.

Odette Bourguignon, Mary's roommate, told her that one of the girls, Rose Courtenay, had started some "vile rumour" about her and Bethany. She advised her friend to invite her suitor to the Easter Banquet as a way to make the gossips end.

Back in Brindleton, another gossip was going around. Edward and Susana heard that two men were spotted kissing near the Battlemere Lake. Beth was surprised and excited about the idea of having more people like her living in the Bay area, but Sue didn't know much more information about the men.

***

Mary decided to follow her friend's advice and invited Timothy to the Banquet. While they had a lovely time together exploring the manor, the situation backfired once Timothy asked for Mary's hand in marriage.

The woman denied him, which made her father, Charles, furious. Before leaving the venue, Charles told the school governess, Mrs. Wagner, to let him know of any suspicious behaviour Mary may have and gave her permission to pry into her personal things.

While things seemed to go badly in Germany, Beth and Will had fun spending time together and trying to discover who the "Battlemere Two" were. Bethany was very grateful to William for being supportive of an interest of hers that wouldn't be considered ladylike, and both bonded even more.

A few days after the Easter Banquet, Mary discovered that the box she kept all of Bethany's letters had gone missing. In the middle of her panic, she indirectly confessed her relationship with Beth to Odette.

Trying to calm herself down, Mary hid from everyone, but soon she was found and learnt that Rose had been in her room the day before. Right after, Mrs. Wagner told her that her father wished to see her.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Mary saw her box on the coffee table. Charles said he had read all of the letters and was absolutely revolted by them. He gave Mary two options: she could either get married to Timothy or watch him expose Bethany to the whole Bay area.

Mary agreed to his terms but couldn't help her crying even when Timothy arrived. Tim tried to comfort his friend telling her he also did not wish to marry. He confessed to be in love with another who was not suitable for him, and said he was obliged by his father to propose.

With no other choice, Mary and Timothy got engaged.

Mary was required to stay for tea afterwards. Her parents started to excitedly plan the wedding. To make sure Mary would not get the chance to see Bethany in Brindleton before getting married, Charles suggested the wedding was held in the town of Normouth, right after the woman's graduation.

Once Mary got back to her room, she wanted to write to Beth, letting her know of her situation. However, she was interrupted by Rose, who confessed to have taken Mary's box not only by Mrs. Wagners orders, but also by curiosity to know if Mary was truly "like her"...

Rose tried to make a move on Mary, claiming that they would both end up in a sad marriage and should have some fun before. Mary pushed her away and yelled at her, ending that terrible day by herself.

#gen1 recap #norman legacy

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grumpygreenwitch · 4 years ago

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Summer Gardening.

So it’s been a while, and for that I apologize to the... 200+ people who follow me. I’m sure y’all are here for the cat pics and the nekked men, but TOO BAD. Today you get to suffer through pics of my green children. Also, I do share seed. My seed list link will be up later in the year. To begin with, the summer flowers are out en force:

Echinacea Purpurea, the original echinacea. I do save yearly seed from these guys, although it’s an incredibly pointy, stabby and bleed-y job.

Mountain Phlox. Unfortunately, all of it around the house is afflicted with powdery mildew, so I will not share seed. But it’s still pretty to look at, and the clearwings (hummingbird moths) love it. Not pictured is the white variant, who grows on the other side of the house. Look, it was hot and I was already melting.

Peppermint Balsam. This thing is basically indestructible, for an annual. It will reseed freely (to truly Lovecraftian levels) and blooms continuously from late spring until mid-fall, when the seed-pods set. There is a dormant genetic in it for double flowers, but when it pops up it’s always been sterile. It just pops up occasionally from the peppermint seed.

I may give the roommate hell over the hostas (I hate them. They’re so useful to protect toads and control weeds, but I hate them), but they do put out pretty flowers. There are several variants around the house - white-edged, blue and green, but hostas in general are very, very hard to start from seed. I will save it on request, only. We were also incredibly lucky to have a Moth Mullein sprout in our porch bed, along with some Variegated Solomon’s Seal.The SS doesn’t put out seeds, and I don’t have enough to share bulbs (yet), but the mullein has been exceptionally generous with seed pods, and it repels bugs. It repels ROACHES. It’s going everywhere. And I may be convinced to part with some seed.

Onward!

A view from a hill. Can you see the garden? That’s OK, I can’t either. Those are peach trees, on the side of the orchard closest to the house. Unfortunately a freak storm during early spring killed all the blossoms. Also, don’t mistake ‘orchard’ for ‘organized’. There’s a pear, some apples, a plum, some nectarines? And front and center are two walnuts. I’ll probably be plunking my laurel there to see if it survives winter. And someday when I have a job and money again, I would like to drop a few Chicago Hardy figs, and maybe a kiwi trellis.

This is the big garden (and fortunately not my responsibility, or I would cry). The guys are ‘handling’ it. The weeds say otherwise.

The jasmine tree and the roommate’s garden. Because of a bad back injury that refuses to heal, I’ve been helping them on and off with it. And if you thought jasmine was supposed to stay a delightful little bush, AHAHAHAHAH. Yes, that’s a light-post next to it. For size comparison.

MY CHILDREN. Please ignore the dead soccer ball. That’d be a dog toy.

Lemon balm, amaranth, and a new bed that I’ll be finishing off during fall, for use next year. The lemon balm is a permanent row - it will overwinter just fine, and it will even keep growing through the mildest part of December. Mine didn’t die back until a few solid days of sleet in January. Unfortunately the weed fabric under the amaranth turned out to be an old roll, and fell apart on me (no big, the whole point is for it to fall apart eventually), so the weeds have kinda eaten it alive.

Unfortunately, both cucumber beetles and blister beetles love the amaranth. Fortunately, it does not seem to give a damn. It’s an incredibly resilient plant, not minding weeds, bugs, flood or drought. We’ll see what the grain actually tastes like, but so far it’s looking like a good candidate for continuous growing.

The lemon balm is lemon-balming. Planted on a lark, it’s proven to be a fantastic wind-breaker - because it grows so early and so quick, it keeps the colder winds that come down through the hollow from my more fragile seedlings, like the lettuce, dill and cilantro. You can see here where the spent flower-heads are dying but there’s new growth underneath; I really have to get in there and behead it. It makes nice hot tea, meh cold tea, and hanging fresh bunches of it around the balcony keeps the skeeters off. It also seems to be a decoy for cabbage moths.

Canary Zinnia. The seed was sent to me as a gift with one of my seed orders, and this is my first year growing it. -If- I can save some, I’ll definitely be sharing and growing again. It’s a lovely plant, very sturdy, and the bees love it.

Dwarf Castor Oil. I don’t think there’s anything dwarf about it, but then I’m a short green witch myself, so maybe it’s all about perspective. Don’t let the pods lie to you, until they dry the spikes are relatively soft. However, it being castor oil, I don’t recommend it to anyone with ducks, chickens, goats, or anything that might accidentally try talking a nibble or pecking at the beans. I do, however, recommend them from jewelry if you know how to pierce things and so on. They are a gorgeous tiger-stripe pattern.

Say hello to the chard! Say goodbye to the chard! Nothing else, absolutely nothing else since the limas, has given me so much trouble. The deer love getting into my chard bed and destroying it (ergo all the forks). And once I managed to chase those off, the blister beetles showed up in force. This will be the last year I grow it - we just don’t eat enough of it to make it worth my while, and it only occasionally sold at the Farmers’ Market.

Red lettuce - Merlot and Lollo Vino, a combination of bought and saved seed. I planted a red romaine of some sort, too, but unsurprisingly it bolted in the heat. The darker reds of my favorites, though, keep bugs off them, keep deer from noticing them, and keep them from bolting. It’s just now threatening to, and at this point its kind of allowed. I need more seed for next year. Seed for this will likely be shared by the teaspoon-ful.

Calendula! I searched for a long time to find the plain ol’ calendula officinalis ancestor, rather than a cultivar where I would have no way of knowing if the medicinal principles would have been sacrificed for looks. It’s supposed to work well as poor man’s saffron (color, no taste), and I’m going to be soaking the heck outta my feet on it during winter. The plant is... not pretty. It gets leggy and the leaves get grotty very quickly. But it’s very sturdy and as long as you cut the flowerheads off as fast as you can, it’ll keep blooming until well into winter. I usually leave it to go to seed around late September.

Green cilantro seeds. You pick ‘em when they’re brown, but before they drop off the plant. Or you pick ‘em when they’re brown-ing, and put them in a paper bag so they’ll finish ripening there and you don’t end up with fifty wild cilantro plants in your garden >_> Most of the row is already gone, and I’ll be putting in a late dill crop in its place. No such thing as too much dill!

Don’t let lemongrass lie to you. Unless you tie it up, it will not grow up neat and tidy, as most grass does. Instead it will sprawl like a dramatic wilting Elizabethan lady and do its best to end up under your feet so you’ll feel bad about it. I just tie it up with a half-blade of grass; it dries up and withers away before it can hurt the plant.

I ordered pennyroyal seed because... Well, because it’s something one should have on hand, considering the way the world is going. What I got was Creeping Pennyroyal, which doesn’t care if you step on it (mint family), smells absolutely delightful, and has the most adorable, tiny purple flowers. I plan on harvesting, drying and sprinkling it everywhere in the crawlspace under the house. Making war on cave crickets, wood roaches, and other such sundries, me.

The thyme and Spicy Oregano took a beating in the heat, but they’re slowly bouncing back. The bed behind them is more pennyroyal, desperately in need of weeding, but there’s only one of me, y’know.

SIGH. Just. You absolute, ill-mannered monster of a creature. That would be horseradish, gloriously happy to be alive, as horseradish should be. Also, NOT IN ITS BASKET. Because never mind the rules, I guess.

I don’t even know how I’m gonna dig that up come winter. With some construction equipment, I GUESS.

Decorative gourd! It’s the only one producing so far, but being the seed was 10+ years old, I’m very pleased.

And an apple gourd (I think?), from a mixture of drying gourds that was only slightly less ancient. Snake, apple and birdhouse gourds. There’s a bunch of them competing in the basket at this point, we’ll see what we will see.

And this, I think, is a great use of a dead canopy frame (the dogs ate the canopy. No, I’m not making it up.) I hope to coax the gourds to grow me a lil’ roof so I can sit in shade, surrounded by pennyroyal anti-skeeter barriers, eating my maters.

My Peter Peppers (nrehehehehe) aren’t producing yet - it takes them a while. But my Chinese 5-Color are getting started. It’s a lovely pepper, both edible and ornamental, with (so I’m told) about four times the heat of a Jalapeno. They’re tiny, with deep purple undertones to the plant. They’ll go purple-white-yellow-orange-red.

The bullhorns, on the other hand, are fairly sizable SWEET peppers on very tiny plants, and I honestly suggest staking them while they’re young so they grow a sturdy trunk, else you might end up with all of them growing at a slant.They’re just now beginning to turn colors. Keeping in mind I’m virulently allergic to peppers (less so sweet than hot, but allergic to all of them), the roommate loves ‘em.

It’s a small pepper bed - mainly to refresh my seed on the hots, and to grow sweets for the roommate. Pardon the nekked bed, the autumn lettuce hasn’t sprouted yet. And yes, that’s a mixed basil/dill bed next to it. My basil grew in patchy holes (NEVER buying from those seed people again), so I filled the holes with dill. Unfortunately, dill seed heads are so fine that they’re hard to photograph well.

The tomato row. After arguing with them for this long, I went the extra mile. Every plant has a metal stake. There’s also a double line growing at the top supporting the stakes so they don’t fall over. And they still fell over. Because why not, you unruly children, why not.

Green, white, pink and brown cherry tomatoes. Delicious!

Two kinds of cucumbers, some of the only decent shots of the dill seed-heads, and a special guest hiding in the shade. I usually plant dill as soon as the cucumber sprouts, to keep cucumber beetles off it. Otherwise I’d have no cucumbers and a lot of fat beetles.

The Muncher is a small cucumber, somewhat delicate. It’s very sensitive to temperature changes, and it’s candy to cucumber beetles - basically, it’s impossible to grow it without a heavy curtain of dill, or a heavy duty decoy. This year I got lucky enough to have both. It’s also delicious pickled, keeping its crunch and getting a good ooomph in flavor.

The Japanese Long is, as the name implies, long. It’s also incredibly bitey, and absolutely scrumptious. It’s sweet! And unlike the average cucumber, it does not go metallic when salted.

And now for the SPECIAL CHILD OF MY HEART. Seriously. I have been lusting after Blue Tea Peas since I first saw them offered, and every single time they’d be sold out pretty much the day of. This year I finally got some and... remember me mentioning that freak freeze that killed the peach blossoms? Yeah. Guess what it also killed. But two plants soldiered on. I have them heavily shielded by the cucumbers, dill and chamomile, and really I have no words for the blue. Pics don’t do it justice. I won’t have the tea this year, I’m saving as much seed as I can, but I am so pleased to have it at all!

Last, but not least, and it’s a poor shot of it, the chamomile. I cannot drink chamomile to sleep - it does put me to sleep, but it also gives me bad dreams. I plan on using it as a skin wash for all the bug bites, along with the calendula, and to give me some respite from dry skin during winter.

Stay green! See you in fall! Now back to our normal schedule of frogs, cats and nekked men!

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addierose444 · 4 years ago

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Back to Campus: Spring 2021

It has been 10 long months since I last stepped foot on the Smith College campus (or out of my home state for that matter). I am now officially back! Hooray! As I said in a recent post, I was prioritized for early arrival due to my job in ResLife as a Community Advisor. As I only just got here and am far from being settled in, this post is mostly just about the process. Hopefully this year I will actually post a room tour of sorts! (Last year, I literally only posted a photo of my emptied out room).

Back in mid-December, I signed up for an arrival slot (2:00 on Friday the 22nd of January). I was so excited about returning to campus that I started packing quite a while ago. To make the packing process easier in the future, I created an extensive packing list. To read my college essentials guide, click here. On Friday, my dad drove me to Smith. Before returning to campus, we stopped by the house of some family friends to grab the rest of my dorm essentials. Since Massachusetts considers my state (Vermont) high-risk, I wasn’t allowed to move directly into my spring housing. At this point in time, Massachusetts and Hawaii are the only states with low-risk status.

My house, Parsons, has been using Discord for our virtual house community. You can read about the other apps I use in (remote) college here. As I was the first one on campus, I decided to keep my residents updated on the check-in and quarantine process. This was not part of my job in ResLife, but it definitely felt relevant to that work. Even though I am a returning student and in ResLife, I didn’t fully know what to expect and figured others would appreciate a student’s perspective. I was already planning on writing this blog post but decided to just compile my updates here. For starters, I didn’t see the need for a total rewrite. I also thought it would be a fun and different post style. Lastly, I think there is value in knowing what people are thinking in the moment rather than just reflectively. Note that my updates are written to my Parsons residents and weren’t edited to reflect the audience of this blog. I did add some additional images to this blog post, but most were also sent via Discord.

Friday @ 1:19

Parsons in real life!

Friday @ 4:07

Just a quick update. I have moved into my quarantine location and thought I would let you all know a little more about the check-in process from a student's perspective. All official information can be found in an email titled "IMPORTANT ARRIVAL INFORMATION". You basically just enter the CC, present your OneCard (unless you are a new student in which case you will receive yours), follow the arrows, and do what you are told. The whole process is quick and easy. The COVID test is painless (you can feel it though) as the swab doesn't need to go super deep into your nose like with other tests. While I strongly advise showing up at your scheduled time, if you are a little bit early, you may be able to check-in anyway. (I checked-in about 20 minutes early without an issue). The only hiccup I had was that I got the wrong room key (my correct room number but for Park House). As it's hard to hear people with masks on, be sure to check the envelope containing your room key and bracelet before leaving the ResLife table (to avoid going around the CC for a second time like I had to). I think check-in will only get better and even going around twice was still very quick and easy. If you have concerns and would like to talk to me about them, feel free to send me an email or direct message me here on Discord. As for moving things into Parsons, it was exhausting as no one was allowed to help me. When you arrive at Parsons, someone (possibly me) should be there to greet you (and make sure you don't stay over an hour). (Some of you may also meet me in the CC as I will be helping distribute keys). See you soon!

Friday @ 5:02

As for the quarantine location, I am currently quarantined in the Ellery Inn. The other location is the Fairfield Inn & Suites. You can get to either location by way of a free shuttle. (Your ticket is the bracelet you receive at check-in). Students sit far apart with masks, but I personally felt more comfortable having my dad drop me off at the hotel. It is also worth noting that both hotels are within walking distance. The bracelet is also important so that staff in the house know you are allowed to be there. (If you have approved guests (low-risk state), I think they also get bracelets). I haven't learned the whole color-coding system, but my bracelet is red and lists my Parsons and Ellery rooms. My quarantine room is actually really nice. I have a comfortable king-sized bed and my own bathroom. When you arrive you get a bag with a few snacks, water, activities from OSE, and general information (including the wifi password). I will keep you posted on the food situation as dinner is yet to arrive. I will momentarily post the menu that was in my welcome bag. Hopefully, these updates are somewhat helpful or interesting. Let me know if you have specific questions.

Friday at 5:15

Still waiting on dinner (to be delivered before 7), but here are the aforementioned snacks.

Friday @ 5:34

Dinner! Will let you know how it is soon, but my roommate from last year has said "The chicken is very tender!". Basically what happens is the people delivering the food knock loudly on the door, announce "dinner" and leave paper bags outside your room. Breakfast for tomorrow was also delivered.

Friday @ 6:18

I was initially quite worried about the food situation (during quarantine) as I am a picky eater and didn't get to choose the meal. (It's all based on the food preference form). The first dinner was much better than I feared. The chicken had flavor, was tender, and was fully cooked. The greens were also tasty. The potatoes could have used some ketchup but were pretty good when eaten with the chicken. I don't really like beets, so I just ate a few to try them. They didn't have much flavor but were well cooked. As for the cookies, they had good flavor but were very hard. Overall, I was unnecessarily worried about the food situation but am definitely excited to get out of quarantine to pick my own food among other things.

Friday @ 6:26

Tomorrow's breakfast! Looks pretty good other than the fact I hate bananas. I am most excited about the vanilla soy milk. I just don't get why we get plastic bottled water at each meal.

Saturday @ 11:51

Lunch for day two in quarantine has arrived. Another gripe that I have is that we get a new full set of plastic silverware at each meal. It's the compostable kind, but I don't think it's going to be composted. So far quarantine is boring, but not that bad. There is a TV in the room with cable and Roku. Make sure you pack your quarantine bag carefully as you cannot leave your room until you get an official release email from ResLife. The rooms (at least mine) have a mini-fridge, so if you have food or medications that require refrigeration, not to worry. We got an email today saying that we will be released on Monday at the latest. I initially had the impression we'd get out on Sunday and yesterday it sounded like we may get out today. I am obviously hoping to get out sooner rather than later, but I'll just have to wait and see.

Saturday @ 5:57

Dinner day two. Even though I have been busy with a French essay, I am definitely getting restless here in quarantine.

Saturday @ 6:38

Yesterday's dinner was better than today's, but this one wasn't too bad. The tortillas were dry, so the meal was better and less messy without them. My main critique is that while the beef had good flavor, it was tough. I also think yesterday's greens were a little bit better. Here's what I got for tomorrow's breakfast. I am hoping to be released from quarantine tomorrow, but it could be as late as Monday. Quarantine releases are at noon or 4 pm.

Sunday @ 9:15

I passed my initial COVID screening! (Still waiting on my official release email from ResLife). Just for a reference point, I took my test a little before 2 pm on Friday and got the results email at around 11 last night. (Basically, you get an email letting you know that the lab results are available and are given a registration code to set up your account).

Sunday @ 11:45

Well, I am still in quarantine, but at least lunch has arrived. Noon is fast approaching, so I might not be getting released until 4.

Sunday @ 12:33

I finally received the official release email from ResLife!!! I can leave as soon as 1 pm and must be moved out by 4 pm. Like with arrival, there are shuttles every half hour. Starting tonight I will be ordering my food through the Grubhub app and picking it up myself. I also have another COVID test scheduled for tomorrow.

Sunday @ 1:17

I am officially back at Parsons! (I decided to walk instead of taking the shuttle). Feel free to continue asking questions, but I think this is the end of my arrival updates. See you soon!

#college #Smith College #spring 2021 #check-in

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lolliblog · 4 years ago

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During high school and for some years beyond, LC was one of my daughter Hannah’s closest friends.

Every year on the anniversary of her death I’ve reposted this tribute by Hannah, as a way of keeping LC’s spirit in the world. This is year twelve.

LC’s suicide left behind a lot of questions and one certainty: the world is a less vibrant place without LC in it. For Louisa Caroline (LC) Wagley December 27, 1982-October 27, 2005 During the four or five years when LC and I were really close, she did a lot of damage to my car.

Our junior year of high school, LC, my roommate Karla, my brother Jake and I left a school dance to drive around Simsbury, Connecticut. LC, who didn’t have her license, thought it would be funny to drive my car around the parking lot while Jake and I were inside Stop and Shop. Everything was going smoothly until she confused the gas pedal with the brake and crashed into a tree. The hood was totally crunched in and there was a huge crack in the windshield. At this point I’d only known LC for a couple of months, just long enough to know that her impulsiveness often got her into trouble. Anyway, I was incredibly upset. “Oh, my God, Hannah! I am so sorry!” I knew LC felt terrible, but I was furious. I didn’t talk the whole way back to school. “Hannah, seriously, you can punch me in the face if you want to.” For some reason, LC really wanted me to hit her. By the time I dropped her off at the dorm, she was practically begging, “Hannah, please, just punch me in the face.” As we drove away, Jake pointed out the giant dent in the windshield from the impact of LC’s head. Other damage to my car was less dramatic. There were at least a dozen cigarette burns on the inside roof from our drives around Simsbury or New Haven, and I don’t smoke. LC also had a way of making a mess, spilling coffee and leaving notebooks and magazines and clothes behind, as well as a persistent nicotine smell that my dad despised. “No smoking in the car,” he’d say. I felt bad ignoring his no-smoking rule, but the fact was I needed those cigarette drives as much as LC did. Our road trips and one summer spent driving all over the island of Nantucket helped pile up over 100,000 miles on the odometer and a mountain of LC’s clothes, scribbled notes and Styrofoam coffee cups throughout my humble Toyota Camry.

As crazy as it sounds, given our history of vehicular misfortunes, I keep thinking that if LC and I just stayed in the Camry, I might have held onto her. I keep thinking about those days with me behind the wheel and LC riding shotgun. I am so grateful to have shared the wild adventures, and to know those memories are safe. My only regret is that we didn’t make it far enough so we could look back together from some grown-up place and laugh at all the amazing things we dared to do.

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iamagarbagepotato-blog · 6 years ago

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A Potato Appears [Part 1 of 3].

Just to put this out there immediately: this is **NOT** a ProAna/ProMia blog, and I do not condone or encourage any of the actions or behaviors I express in this blog.

Now that that’s out of the way; Hi. I’ll call myself Sophia, I’m 29 years old, study full time in college, work as a server/bartender, and I have been struggling with bulimia since 2014. I had stopped in 2015, but severely relapsed in 2017. The only people that know are myself and the counselors I saw in 2014, my dentist, and the therapist I see currently.

I wanted to start this blog because I do not feel brave enough in my external life to talk to any friends, family, my boyfriend, or even my general practitioner doctor about this problem. Mostly because while I am not severely underweight like I was in 2014 (in fact, I do have a normal BMI), my laxative abuse is real and I feel as if it is consuming my life to the point where it interferes with my work, my social life, and especially my current academic life.

I’ll fill in some background information and clue y’all in; just be aware that it’s a novel...

Humble Beginnings (2013-2015)

I was 23.

It was early summer where I was living in southwest Florida, and the weather was unrealistically hot and humid. I had just come home from a very expensive grocery shopping trip for my boss at work (I was a bartender for a popular Mexican restaurant in the area) for one of my other boss’ going away party. I was tasked with making boozy treats for the adults. I remember them vividly; champagne cupcakes, chocolate Modelo Negro cupcakes, strawberry margarita cupcakes, Corona cupcakes with lime and beer buttercream, and Blue Moon cupcakes (because why not?) with orange and beer buttercream. I had posted a selfie of myself about halfway through covered completely in flour and other baking messes when a guy I had known from my days of marching drum corps messaged me. Let’s call him Mike. I had always thought he was attractive and very musically talented, so I entertained his flattering messages, and eventually we hopped on Skype as I continued baking while he sat on his couch drinking Bud Light.

He had made some forward comments; I didn’t mind because Florida had done my body good, even after my retirement from drum corps. He mentioned possibly coming up to visit him in Ohio, to which I said wouldn’t be a problem. He asked if I was serious, and I asked him if he was.. we set a date and I was off to visit Ohio two or three weeks later.

Once I landed, things with Mike were awkward, at first... but they progressed fast and hard. After a couple of months of visiting, I decided to move there permanently. I was also offered a chance to finish my music degree (which was something I had put off since 2011 and desperately wanted to complete) and was offered a position with a small, local, volunteer orchestra.

In early January of 2014, I had set out on the long 1200+ mile journey to move everything I could fit in my car from Florida to Ohio. I decided to not move in with him right away and instead lived with a roommate that was also a mutual friend of Mike’s, and she was dating the employer I had when I moved to Ohio. I was all set; I was working as a bartender, performing music on the side, meeting new people, and was set to start school in the fall later that year. I was dating one of the best musicians I knew that not only shared my love of orchestral music, but that of competitive marching music too. I was being shown off, and was enjoying life in a new city with new people.

Well, in March my roommate decided to take a few months-long trip to someplace off the grid. I could not afford the apartment on my own and was still a bit too new to the area to scour for a new roommate on such short notice, so I hesitantly moved in with Mike, and that’s when things started to get a bit weird. He had noted that even at his age at the time (32), he had never had a girlfriend live with him, nor had he ever had a girlfriend longer than a year. We worked opposite schedules, him teaching mornings and afternoons, and myself teaching students in the late afternoon before working nights in to late night. He had begun to make a few comments about how I had put on weight for my first winter in three years and it started to get on my nerves.

His behavior became weird at this time; He needed attention on him at all times. One incident I remember in particular was after an orchestra rehearsal, we had gone to a bar with friends and a lot of people at the bar started talking to me (mostly about my instrument and about the concert program for when/where they could see it) and Mike just busted out his instrument and started playing so people would acknowledge him. Thinking about that now still makes me incredibly uneasy. It was around this time, I started thinking that he might have had a drinking problem. Each night I’d come home to a 30 pack of Bud Light gone in a day and a half, and I know that I don’t drink that stuff, even in my worst of states. Whenever we’d go to parties, bar performances, or comedy shows, he’d always be the one drinking. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back now, I missed a lot of red flags.

Around June, his comments about my weight had gotten on my nerves a bit more, and I was a bit on edge because I had started a second serving/bartending job a few weeks prior in a new upscale place. I became increasingly suspicious when he began concealing his phone. I’m not an overly paranoid girlfriend that wants to know your business, but his behavior became odd. I grew suspicious that he may have been talking to, or even seeing someone else while I was working two jobs and teaching my music students.

It made me think that it was my fault... that somehow with me becoming more and more unattractive was the reason he was being led astray. So I started running, and I started running a LOT. It was hard because, yeah, I was out of shape, but I also have asthma. I became frustrated when I couldn’t complete a time or distance that I wanted, and I’d punish myself for that by forcing myself to purge by vomiting. The first time was so hard, but seeing all the stir fry I had made and consumed hours before expel from my body and being flushed away gave me a sense of cleanliness. I was so glad to be rid of that. In my mind, I did deserve it. I would deprive myself of foods, and what little I did eat would be expelled when I could get away with it without suspicion.

Eventually I did something terrible; I did look at his phone and did confirm that he was not faithful to me. I was a bit scared about whether or not I should confront him about this. Most nights when he’d be drinking, he’d become emotionally abusive and would become unnecessarily argumentative with me to the point I’d breathe a sigh of relief when he’d pass out on the couch instead of crawling in to bed with me. When confronted, he immediately pinned me as the bad guy by going through his phone. In retrospect, it definitely wasn’t the smartest idea, nor the most honest, but it gave me the answer I was looking for and confirmed my suspicions. He became angry and so irate and I don’t remember much of what happened next other than a series os smacks across the face and jaw and being pushed down on to the bed we once shared and had “relations” in just hours before. After he had yelled at me so much that his spittle grossly mixed with he blood on my face, he strangely apologized, got up, and passed out on the couch for the remainder of the evening.

I layed there on the bed motionless for hours, thinking that this could have been avoided if I had just stayed thin. I didn’t know what to do; I had no friends that weren’t also his, I had no family (the closest was 6 hours away), and I had no money to run or go someplace else. I only got up that morning to shower and notice that one of my farther back anterior teeth was missing (and still is, but it’s hardly noticeable, but it is a constant reminder). To this day, I am unsure of my tooth dislodged because of the force he was using, or because the damage I had done to my teeth from throwing up so much. It remains a mystery. After he came to, we had agreed that until I found someplace else, I would have complete access to the bedroom and it would be my space and my space only. I chose this room because it was the only one in the apartment with a functioning lock.

I had felt pretty terrible medically about a week later; I had more severe cramps than normal and my menstrual blood was extremely heavy and different in appearance. I promptly went to the doctor to see what the problem was. Turned out that I not only miscarried at 8 weeks without even knowing I was pregnant because I was taking a birth control pill and we used condoms, but I also had a stomach ulcer. The physician noted the dramatic decrease in weight (140lbs in the winter to about 110lbs in mid-June) but noted it to be from the ulcer and the stress of the miscarriage. I had every opportunity to say that I was bringing and purging and refusing food; I could have said something about needing help in my dangerous situation... but I did nothing as he gave me a prescription for Effexor.

I became very quiet in the house, and was scolded often for not acknowledging his presence when I’d enter or leave a room he was in. He became so controlling and wanted to strip me of my privacy so much that he actually removed the door from the hinges so that the only privacy I had was in the bathroom. A few weeks of this and we’re finally in to July of 2014. He bought us tickets to see the baseball team play on the Fourth of July; which was a nice gesture and I went because I wasn’t working. I was very quiet because the Fourth of July is a somber holiday for me because my favorite uncle committed suicide on that day in 2006 and the memory still plays vividly in my mind every year. Around the third inning, Mike looked at me quietly watching the game, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “A few of my friends are here; I’m going to go sit with them.” Not long after, I gathered my things, hopped on the train, and walked back to the apartment only to discover that we only took one set of keys; his keys. So I sat at a bar for the next eight hours, watching the game, and glancing out the window to see if I would see him walk by so I could be let in. We were both very quiet after that. I had duct-taped a shower curtain on to the door frame just to have a small bit of privacy afterwards.

About a week later, Mike had reconnected with a guy friend he only saw occasionally since high school. They’d drink together and from hearing their conversations and hearing the beer cans being thrown in the recycling box that they both had problems with controlling their alcohol. I am unsure of why I was so judgmental of this when I couldn’t control myself when it came to binging and purging on a daily basis. His friend would often make comments to him about trying to get us back together, calling me Mike’s “cute suburbanite girlfriend” in the process. I was probably a jerk for eavesdropping (but he took away my fucking DOOR so he kinda asked for it) but this was the only time I ever heard Mike admit to someone that he had a problem with alcohol; both of them admitted it to each other, actually. At this point, their conversation moved outside and I have no idea what happened next until the next morning because I had fallen asleep watching a film with headphones in.

I had woken up the next morning to the sounds of knocking on the door; it was one of Mike’s friends asking for his spare glasses. I was confused because I didn’t see Mike anywhere or any sign that he had returned from when he had been out with his friend the night before. Turns out, he and his friend had gone on a walk and had gotten in to a physical altercation. To this day, Mike claims that I somehow conspired to set it up, but after what had just happened to me, I would never risk any physical harm on another human being, especially maliciously and violently. In light of this, I immediately called my mother who lived six hours away for her to wire me some money so I could come home immediately. I stayed for a week while Mike stayed with his parents nearby in order to give my job some minimal notice and to cover all my grounds with our mutual landlord.

When I came home to my mom, I was 102lbs and couldn’t bring myself to purge in her tiny home when she and her dog would hear me and investigate. I caught treatment silently through a local program, but ceased shortly after when my hectic life of working three jobs became a bit too much for me to worry about anything else. I thought I was free from bulimia.. until 2017 hit me like a ton of bricks.

Part 2 will continue soon...

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chipotle · 7 years ago

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Unemployment and its discontents

My “career” has been frustratingly unstable—the longest time I’ve held a job was five years. Since I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area in 2002, I’ve never hit a three-year anniversary anywhere. (Nearly all of this short-timing comes from layoffs or working on contract.) My savings account (and more recently a “safety net” investment account at Betterment) exists as a cushion for lean times.; I want four to six months of coasting time before panic sets in.

But when I was laid off in September 2017 after only nine months at a new job, I realized that between my checking account and a generous-for-such-a-short-gig severance package, I wouldn’t need to start looking until the start of the new year. And, man, I felt like I could use a break.

So I took one.

I drove up the Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway (too quickly, and I should have ended up in Portland to visit Hale Pele), doubled down on exploring microbreweries around Northern California, and spent three weeks in Florida while still somehow managing not to see everyone there I wanted to. (It’s not a huge number; I just didn’t plan well.)

Starting in early January, I did start looking for work, and it’s been a mixed bag. I’ve gotten nibbles from companies I should have followed up on but—for reasons that made sense at the time—didn’t, followed up on other contacts that didn’t go anywhere, and had one rather stinging rejection. I have one prospect I’m talking with that may turn into my first face-to-face interview in this hunt. Things have felt tougher this time around, although that perception may be colored by how long it’s been since I last went into an office. I’ve been actively looking less than two months, but I’ve been out of work for five.

And this has led to a disquieting realization. I’m kind of, you know, enjoying this. Not going into an office? Cool. Working on whatever I want to, wherever I want to work on it? Also cool. I joke about living the Jimmy Buffett lifestyle—the one in his old songs, not the one he actually lives being a multimillionaire running the 5,000-employee Margaritaville® corporation—but, y’know, I’d kinda like that.

Between unemployment and that cushion I mentioned, I can probably coast for another six months. Part of me really wants to see if I can build up a writing/editing income during that time. Hitting the equivalent of a full-time income—hell, even netting what I’d need to stay afloat without replenishing savings—would be tough, though. Yes, I know this is made far worse by living in one of the most expensive regions in the country. But moving is never simple or cheap, and I wouldn’t be saving as much on rent as one might hope unless I got another roommate. (I have one here, but we’ve been friends for over two decades, and I think we’re mostly fine with one another’s quirks at this point. I’m not keen on living with strangers.)

Even so, moving back to Florida has been in the back of my mind for years. A decade ago I’d have considered that some kind of failure, but I’ve been out here for over fifteen years. My mother is in her mid-70s now, living alone, and has no other immediate family; it makes sense for me to be closer to her sometime soon. A few years ago, I’d expected to be passing my four-year anniversary at RethinkDB this March, be in excellent financial shape, and working up the nerve to propose I move cross-country and work remotely. Ironically, now that I’m ostensibly more free to do that, I’m less certain it can happen. Actually finding a job out here is likely to keep me cemented in place another…well, ideally two or three years, although that’s nothing I’m gonna count on at this point.

I suspect, though, that no matter what happens, I’m going to see if I can find ways to build “alternate income streams.” I’m sure I can go back to an office again, there are some cool employers out there, and I’d like to squirrel away more money. (I started saving for retirement fairly late in life, although I’m not sure I could have started much earlier, realistically speaking.) But I think I’d like for my next office job to be my last one.

#Journal

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thebigcitynightsband · 8 years ago

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Bus King/Busking/Night Moves

That’s a photo of me and my ex-gf. I just found it last week in my bag that Jamie brought to me from Burlington, thanks Jamie bro. Happier times, man. We’re still friends but we don’t see each other much. That’s a repeating pattern with me. Me and a gal will break up, declare an intention to stay friends, and then I be their friend while they work hard at vanishing from my life and into the arms of some dude who hates me cuz I’m still her friend. Happened with Jessica, happened with Courtney. Next time I’ll just do the sudden severance. Seems to work for other people.

Well, fuck. I’ve been struggling a little bit lately. Still sober, still pissing in a cup every day. My hours got cut at work for a few weeks but they’re back up to full-time next week, where they’ll remain until mid-December. I’m trying to save my apartment, need to find a roommate to take over the lease, which requires first and last, which I don’t have but I’m trying to acquire somehow.

A few days ago I went busking for the first time in about a year. Queen and University is my corner, northwest side. I like it there because you get a lot of 905ers coming out of Osgoode Station to go explore Queen West, people who don’t ordinarily see buskers, so they’re generous. I can only play for about three hours on an acoustic before my fingers start to hurt too much to play chords, and you average about six bucks an hour. I write a lot of songs that way. “Make It Mine” off the new album was written while busking last year and I came up with a few new ones the other day. It was a good day, actually. I woke up broke and without food and ended the day with a full belly and a pack of cigarettes and an Arizona Iced Tea. I felt content. So I’m gonna go back out there tomorrow. And probably the next day too.

My laptop died and I almost lost the record, but I was able to extract the files after a few days of feeling numb and worried. I really like our upcoming album, the songs have kept me good company over the past year, and the thought of losing the whole damn thing, save for “Fighting Ways” which is finished, and a handful of others, was a little scary. It’s not gone though. Sweet relief. BCN songs are like cockroaches. They find a way. Cue “Long Distance King” in your head as you read that last line...”we’ll find a waaaaay, we’ll fiiind a waaaaay.” Glory days. Before everything went to shit.

Hey, know what’s a great record? Break Up Break Down by Reigning Sound. Listen to the quavering, breathless delivery from Greg Cartwright on this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fWcZKZR3jg

Another great one off that record is called “Want You,” a really sad, pretty ballad. I’d like to make an album of Memphis ballads some day, in the vein of Break Up Break Down. We’ll call it Fuck Up Fuck Off or something.

I set up my keyboard tonight with a mind to do some overdubs tomorrow. I’ve been avoiding doing keyboard overdubs on the album forever because I’m a terrible keyboard player and it takes a really long time to get a single coherent take and I don’t have the patience that I used to. I finished “Night Needles” from A Steamroller Named Desire in a single evening, and that song has probably the most piano of any BCN song. I doubt I could do the same thing now. I’m older now and runnin against the wind, as Bob Seger would sing. Has sung, whatever. Running Against the Wind. I love that song. “Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” is a great line eh? Legend has it Seger wanted to cut that line but the producer told him how great it was, which it is. Oftentimes artists can’t recognize their own greatness. Years ago, when I was sixteen or so, I was trying to put together a set of acoustic covers in my bedroom. I remember doing “Leave It Alone” by Moist, which is pretty embarrassing now, but also “Against the Wind” and an acoustic version of the Smashing Pumpkin’s “Ava Adore,” which I was surprised to find has a very similar chord progression as “Against the Wind.” I mean, those two songs sound nothing alike, yet they’re very alike, chord-wise.

ANYWAY I’m rambling. Just finished an assignment for a client (I do people’s homework for them as a side hustle. Forty bucks here, sixty bucks there, it all goes into the giant hole I dug for myself the past few years.) I owe money to one guy who actually chased me this past January, up near Dovercourt and Hallam. I had to jump a couple fences but I got away. He’ll get paid soon enough. They all do.

I’m working on it man. Pushing against the tide. Runnin against the wind.

One last thing about that Bob Seger song: I’ve always thought that part where he yells “let the cowboys ride!” at the end of the song was stupid. Why couldn’t he have taken that part out? It’s so obvious that he was out of ideas and just mustered up the best open field imagery he could in the moment. Let the cowboys ride? Given the greatness that comes before that line, I can’t dismiss the song, even if it’s not as good as the immortal “Night Moves.”

A quick word about “Night Moves” before I go. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mRFWQoXq4c I honestly think it’s one of the greatest all-time vocal performances. There are three distinct parts in the song that always give me shivers. The first is that irresistible “summertime summertime” part @ 2:19. The second comes in that great breakdown, when the title changes from a sexual innuendo to a somber, forlorn musing on the passage of time and how time can move slower when you’re bored, faster when you’re absorbed and excited. Ain’t it funny how the night moves...when you just don’t seem to haaaaaaaave as much to lo-o-se. It’s that “have” that always gets me...just the way Seger gives it the perfect amount of witsfulness and gravelly gravity. Fuckin killer. Singing is always a fine balance between technical proficiency and emotional delivery, but on that line Seger’s 99% heart, 1% technique, and it still sounds incredible. To me, at least.

The last part is in the final minor descending refrain @ 5:04, even though it’s just Bob doing a bunch of “ooooohooohoohhhs.” It wouldn’t be as good if that vocal came over the main riff, but it doesn’t. It comes over the same chord progression as the chorus, that sad lilting minor key descent. Every time, man. Every time.

I’ve been trying to cover “Night Moves” since 2007. I don’t think I’ve ever got past the first chorus. I just can’t sell it. Those aren’t my memories, they’re Bob Seger’s. I never existed in the 1950s America he’s singing about in the song, the America of taking your sweetheart to the drive-in, cruising the strip, going to diners and pushing coins into jukeboxes. That wasn’t my adolescence. So it’s a tough one to sing. You have to know when you’re beaten. That’s part of growing up.

I don’t talk to my Dad anymore. He hates my guts and so does his girlfriend. It doesn’t bother me except for when I hear certain songs...songs like “Night Moves” or “Walking On The Moon” by The Police...first time I ever heard my father sing on the way to Owen Sound for a hockey tournament I was playing...it was the chorus, that “no way, chasing your cares away” part, and we had sunflower seeds and that was the night I fell in love with highways and movement and travel and all that Kerouac stuff I’d get obsessed with later, all those fuckin notebooks I filled with eager scrawling about road trips I hadn’t yet taken. I lost all those notebooks somehow, can’t remember maybe I tossed them all on purpose, kind of a year zero event. Too much in those notebooks was lines from existing songs. I remember one time going through an old notebook and seeing “the sea is foaming like a bottle of beer” and thinking I’d written it...nope...it was a Weezer song. I’d just scrawled out that one line hammered one night, drunk at 17, back when it was actually exciting to get drunk and not a sad chore like it later became.

I’m going busking tomorrow. I might not be able to do “Night Moves” but I can bust out “Against the Wind.” I ain’t licked yet. It ain’t over. I’m older now and still runnin against the wind. Let the cowboys ride or whatever.

Edit, PS: That was a really dramatic fuckin post. I’m sorry. For some much-needed levity, here’s a picture of me from last week. Some friends visited while I was in bed, and I came out to say hello still holding my book. PPS: Hey, know another great Bob Seger song? “Still the Same,” especially those ghostly backing vocals in the second verse. Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjDpKeiYxOU PPPS: Hey, know another song that has cool ghostly additional instrumental in the second verse? Bruce Springsteen’s “Downbound Train.” It’s not his greatest song and I don’t like Bruce’s overdone “blue collar accent,” the dumb slurring he likes to do in order to sound more like a mechanic making $20 000 a year, but that beautiful synth organ that comes in on the second verse is just heartwrenching, listen for it @ 0:49: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nc_mv46NwT4 The organ has a pretty sweet solo for one-bar starting at 1:21. If I could get that organ tone, I wouldn’t put off doing keyboard overdubs, lemme tell ya son, I tell ya what.

#goleafsgo

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lolliblog · 5 years ago

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During high school and for some years beyond, LC (center, with Hannah on the right and their bestie Karla on the left) was my daughter Hannah’s closest friend.

Every year on the anniversary of her death, I’ve reposted this, written by Hannah, with the intention of keeping LC’s spirit alive.

We will never, ever stop missing LC.

LC’s suicide left behind so many unanswered questions, along with one huge certainty: the world is a less vibrant place without LC in it. For Louisa Caroline (LC) Wagley December 27, 1982-October 27, 2005 During the four or five years when LC and I were really close, she did a lot of damage to my car.

Our junior year of high school, LC, my roommate Karla, and my brother Jake and I left a school dance to drive around Simsbury, Connecticut. LC, who didn’t have her license, thought it would be funny to drive my car around the parking lot while Jake and I were inside Stop and Shop. Everything was going smoothly until she confused the gas pedal with the brake and crashed into a tree. The hood was totally crunched in and there was a huge crack in the windshield. At this point I’d only known LC for a couple of months, just long enough to know that her impulsiveness often got her into trouble. Anyway, I was incredibly upset. “Oh, my God, Hannah! I am so sorry!” I knew LC felt terrible, but I was furious. I didn’t talk the whole way back to school. “Hannah, seriously, you can punch me in the face if you want to.” For some reason, LC really wanted me to hit her. By the time I dropped her off at the dorm, she was practically begging, “Hannah, please, just punch me in the face.” As we drove away, Jake pointed out the dent in the windshield from the impact of LC’s head. Other damage to my car was less dramatic. There were at least a dozen cigarette burns on the inside roof from our drives around Simsbury or New Haven, and I don’t smoke. LC also had a way of making a mess, spilling coffee and leaving notebooks and magazines and clothes behind, as well as a persistent nicotine smell that my dad despised. “No smoking in the car,” he’d say. I felt bad ignoring his no-smoking rule, but the fact was I needed those cigarette drives as much as LC did. Our road trips and one summer spent driving all over the island of Nantucket helped pile up over 100,000 miles on the odometer and a mountain of LC’s clothes, scribbled notes and Styrofoam coffee cups throughout my humble Toyota Camry.

Still, despite the havoc we wreaked upon it, I always felt that car protected us. It had been through everything, from LC’s abuse to several idiotic accidents that I take complete responsibility for, and it still got us everywhere we needed to go, including all the way from New Orleans to Panama City Beach, Florida (not the most happening place in mid-January) on one tank of gas, which felt, at the time, like a miracle. As crazy as it sounds, given our history of vehicular misfortunes, I keep thinking that if LC and I just stayed in the Camry, I might have held onto her. I keep thinking about those days with me behind the wheel and LC riding shotgun. I am so grateful to have shared the wild adventures, and to know those memories are safe. My only regret is that we didn’t make it far enough so we could look back together from some grown-up place and laugh at all the foolish, amazing things we dared to do.

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lolliblog · 6 years ago

Photo

During high school and for some years beyond, LC was my daughter Hannah’s closest friend.

Every year on the anniversary of her death, I’ve reposted this, written by Hannah, as a way of keeping LC’s spirit alive. This year, like last, it is slightly belated, but no less heartfelt for being a few days late. We will never stop missing LC.

LC’s suicide left behind so many never-to-be-answered questions and one huge certainty: the world is a less vibrant place without LC in it. For Louisa Caroline (LC) Wagley December 27, 1982-October 27, 2005 During the four or five years when LC and I were really close, she did a lot of damage to my car.

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lolliblog · 7 years ago

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During high school and for some years beyond, LC was one of my daughter Hannah’s closest friends. Our entire family fell in love with her, because how could we not? She was hilarious and unpredictable with a huge, caring heart. Here she is, on the left, next to Hannah’s wonderful roommate Karla and Hannah.

Every year on the anniversary of LC’s death I’ve reposted this tribute by Hannah, as a way of keeping LC’s spirit in the world. This is year twelve.

LC’s suicide left behind unanswerable questions and one certainty: the world is a less vibrant place without LC in it. For Louisa Caroline (LC) Wagley December 27, 1982-October 27, 2005 During the four or five years when LC and I were really close, she did a lot of damage to my car.

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