#in honor of my extended grad school experience

[roysexton]

Original post with hyperlinks:

Tempus fugit is a Latin phrase, usually translated into English as "time flies." The expression comes from line 284 of book three of Virgil's Georgics, where it appears as fugit inreparabile tempus: "it escapes, irretrievable time." The phrase is used in both its Latin and English forms as a proverb that "time's a-wasting."

Well, I’d say this wonderful community hasn’t wasted one precious minute this year, nor let grass grow under our collective feet, which is why we're already knocking on fourth quarter’s front door. (How many metaphors can I work into one sentence?) We may be breathless, exhilarated and a little spent, but so much incredible work is in our rearview mirror, with more ahead from regional conferences this fall to our international and regional boards setting goals and budgets for 2024.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. This has truly been one of the great honors of my life to serve among all of you this year and I’m excited to see where 2024 President Kevin Iredell takes us. He’s such an insightful, authentic, driven leader, and I know the energy and heart he will bring to his LMA presidency will be remarkable.

As we look toward 2024, I’m going to “pass the mic” for the rest of this message to our fab CEO Danielle Holland. She has been diligently helping steer our macro conversations on long-term strategic planning the past few months and will share where we are headed next year and beyond.

But before I do…I offer you another gift of music📷. What am I going to do next year with all of these playlists? Anywho, I hope you enjoy this #LMA23: Back to (Old) School AmpliMix here on iTunes and Spotify. I dug deep into my high school, college and grad school years for jams firmly placed in the 80s/90s, with a couple of 70s and 00s cuts for good measure.

DJ Roy out — here’s Danielle!

Thank you, Roy, and thank you for your incredible and engaging leadership this year! I know so many of us look forward to your playlists — who else could mash up 80s dance hits with show tunes and somehow have it all work together?

That word, together, has been such an important theme for us this year and extends to next year and beyond.

Together, you have supported LMA and our community like never before. At the local and regional level, with exceptional educational and networking events…and across your organization as ambassadors fueling membership growth and engagement with vibrant member resource groups, collaboration in our Shared Interest Groups (SIGs) and committees, and post-Covid record attendance at the memorable LMA 2023 Annual Conference.

Together, because of each of you, our LMA community is thriving. As we look to next year, it’s this amazing energy and inspiring spirit of together that will no doubt continue to propel us forward.

Membership engagement, growing member resources and strategic membership growth globally will be at the forefront, as will continuing to expand our support for our volunteer leaders in each of our eight regions – all while delivering an exceptional, integrated member experience across LMA. With that, we're exploring new, innovative educational opportunities, as well as opportunities for our service providers to engage with LMA and our members.

Also at the top of the list is strategic financial growth to reinvest in LMA and our community, in both the near and long term. Plus, you won’t want to miss our capstone event of the year, the LMA 2024 Annual Conference in San Diego next April! (Super Early Bird registration is open; my one shameless plug!)

The power and strength of LMA come from our members. Together there is nothing we cannot achieve. I thank you all for your ongoing advocacy and support.

You’ll hear more about what’s ahead for 2024 from Kevin in the coming months. It’s going to be another banner year, but there's still much more of 2023 left. I ask for your continued support of LMA, and I hope to see many of you at our regional conferences this fall.

Now open up iTunes or Spotify and enjoy what DJ Roy has in store for us this month!

Love you,

Roy

President, 2023 Legal Marketing Association - LMA International Board of Directors

Roy E. Sexton

Director of Marketing

Clark Hill Law

#lmamkt

[victorychords]

new icon! from the Disorganizine (the zine came with “digital merch” like these emotes/icons). felt the winds of change a-blowing, lol

[idigitpodcast]

IMPORTANT PEOPLE IN ARCHAEOLOGY: GEORGE MCJUNKIN

Alright everyone, in honor of Juneteenth, I would like to tell you the story of Mr. George McJunkin, an African American Cowboy and archaeologist!

McJunkin was born into slavery on a ranch in Texas in 1851. His father worked on that same ranch as a blacksmith after he purchased his own freedom; and no sources online can seem to provide any information on his mother. 

Growing up, McJunkin learned many skills as a ranch hand and he also frequently interacted with Mexican vaqueros (cowboys) who taught him how to handle horses. 

On a night in 1867 he packed up some food, an extra pair of pants, took a mule from his master’s ranch, and set out to become a cowboy. McJunkin had many jobs as a horse and cattle wrangler as well as a manager of various ranches in both South and West Texas, Northeastern New Mexico, and in Northwestern Oklahoma.

It was during this time that he learned how to read and write from other cowboys; but he also picked up quite a bit on his own. He taught himself how to speak fluent Spanish, and how to play the fiddle. He was also very interested in science and history, and educated himself in archaeology. 

In the early 1900s McJunkin was offered a job as the foreman on the Crowfoot Ranch near Folsom, New Mexico (yeah THAT Folsom, New Mexico my fellow Prehistoric North American archaeology nerds). 

Then, on August 27th, 1908 Folsom was hit with a harsh and heavy rainstorm which ended up causing massive flooding. McJunkin and a friend Bill Gordon were surveying damage to fences along the Dry Cimarron River, and it was in the Wild Horse Arroyo that McJunkin noticed huge bones sitting in the newly exposed sediment.

McJunkin’s life experience allowed him to recognize these bones were not from any modern day cattle or buffalo species, and therefore were probably a significant archaeological discovery. He tried to get the scientific community interested in the site with no luck. 

George McJunkin passed away in 1922 at the age of 71 without having known just how significant this discovery was going to be.*

While the realms of American anthropology and archaeology have made significant progress and improvements in the past 100 years (though they still have a long way to go), the disciplines during the early 1900s were inundated with racism and prejudice. Scientific authorities at the time were hard-set in their understanding that Indigenous prehistory only extended approximately 3,000 years B.P. (before the present). This relatively young date range helped to justify academic views at the time that Indigneous peoples were ‘savage’  and ‘uncivilized’, and therefore inferior white western culture. 

Several months after McJunkin’s death in 1922 a team of amateur archaeologists ended up excavating the arroyo site and discovered more bones and associated projectile points (projectile point is the general term to refer to spear or arrow heads). 

Then, in 1926 the director of the Colorado Museum of Natural History (now the Denver Museum of Nature and Science) J.D. Figgins was shown bones from the site and he proceeded with formal excavations in that same year. 

The Folsom site is monumental for how it changed the way western academics understood North American prehistory. These excavations turned up approximately 30 individual skeletons from the extinct bison species Bison antiquus. This is a species that dates from 10,000 to 18,000 years ago. 

In the following year, 1927, a skeleton was found with a spear point lodged in situ (in place/in context) between the bison’s ribs (what is known as a Folsom Point). This find meant that prehistoric people existed within the North American continent at least 11,000 years B.P. 

Again, there is no way to overstate how significant this site is, and how frankly cool it is that a Black cowboy and former slave was the one to initially find it. Though, I would also like to note that The Denver Museum of Nature and Science does not mention George McJunkin and his association with the Folsom archaeology site that made them well-known; and if the information is present it is not easily accessible. 

There are no doubt countless unsung brilliant anthropologists and archaeologists throughout American history, people who have made incredible contributions to these disciplines without ever knowing the true impact they would have. 

George McJunkin is certainly one of these people, but as time goes on I am hopeful that his story and importance will be taught alongside all the big names in American anthropology, because his life is certainly one that deserves to be celebrated. 

*Brief aside from the author: the word ‘discovery’ never really feels appropriate to me when discussing prehistoric Indigenous sites. I don’t know about anyone else, but to me the idea of ‘Discovering’ seems to imply that Indigenous people didn’t already know a site was there. I am sure many nations did/do know the location of important cultural sites but may not want to disturb them for various reasons. Anyway if you stuck through this mini-soapbox thank you, please continue on with your regularly scheduled reading.*

Refs

“George McJunkin and the Discovery That Changed American Archaeology.” Archaeology Southwest, 20 Oct. 2020, www.archaeologysouthwest.org/2015/02/23/george-mcjunkin-and-the-discovery-that-changed-american-archaeology/.

“George McJunkin: Standing at the Intersection of Black History and American Archaeology.” Archaeology Southwest, 5 Mar. 2021, www.archaeologysouthwest.org/2021/03/04/george-mcjunkin-standing-at-the-intersection-of-black-history-and-american-archaeology/.

Matt Doherty, Matt. “George McJunkin – Black Cowboy & History Changing Amateur Archaeologist.” Legends of America, www.legendsofamerica.com/george-mcjunkin/.

Peterson, Heather. “George McJunkin (1851-1922) •.” BlackPast, 25 Feb. 2020, www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/mcjunkin-george-1851-1922/.

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About the podcast: The I Dig It Podcast was created by Alyssa and Michaela in March of 2020. Our goal for this podcast was to provide archaeology enthusiasts with insight into the student perspective of navigating the world of academia and the job market for archaeology and anthropology. Guests on the podcast include people from all different parts of their career, including highschool, undergrad, grad school, post doc, and early career!

Where to Find Us:

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/idigitpodcast/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/IDigItPodcast

Discord: https://discord.gg/T7BPe36

ArchPodNet: https://www.archaeologypodcastnetwork.com/idigit

How to get involved: Sign up to be a guest or to be featured on our social media pages ➡️ https://linktr.ee/idigitpodcast

[atlafan]

Costumes Galore - One Shot

a/n: this one was based off a few asked for my Halloween themed one shot requests. A lot of you wanted to something around a costume rental store, so I just made Harry the owner of that store! Feedback and reblogs are helpful, hope you enjoy! (not proofread) 

Warnings: pining, smut, friends to lovers

Words: 8.7K

Don’t ask him how, but Harry is the owner of a costume rental shop. He was a business major in university, and with some luck and patience, he was able to take over the very shop he worked in as a teenager. Halloween was his busiest season, of course, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing well year round. He would give deals to the local schools and community theaters, and people who dressed as characters for parties would come see him. So, needless to say, business was steady. He often had big sales right after Halloween, and people would come in and clean him out.

Preparing for Halloween was his favorite thing to do. As soon as it was September 1st, he would transform his shop, pulling out tons of decorations, and putting out different bowls of candy. He liked making his customers happy, and everyone usually left satisfied. His changing rooms were comfortable and spotless, and he even set up backdrops in the lounge area for people to take Halloween pictures of their kids. People would come in to do that all year to save time and money. He was a smart business man. Harry did most of the work himself, he had a couple of teenagers that worked for him after school, but other than that it was all him. He didn’t mind, it gave him the control he needed over his shop, and he just didn’t have the money to pay someone for full-time help. He was only entering the fourth year of owning the place, after all.

Harry enjoyed the small traditions the downtown area had. Every year on October 30th, all of the shops would open their doors so kids could come trick or treat. It was a great way to give out pamphlets and coupons, while also getting to know the people that lived in the area. He loved kids, so when Harry was told about the tradition by his shop neighbor he got right on it, splurging for the king sized candy bars.

It was getting to be that time of year again, just about the end of September, his shop was looking good, and the Halloween crowds had slowly been trickling in and out. He was at the register when he heard the chime of the bell he keeps above the door to signal someone was coming in. It was a beautiful young woman, and she made Harry’s mouth run dry.

“Hello.” She says shyly as she walks up to the counter.

“Hi.” He swallows, and then smiles. “May I help you find something? Picking a costume up?” He moves to walk into the back door to see what reservations he had left for the day, but she stops him.

“No, um, I was wondering, actually, if you were hiring seasonally? I’m a grad student at the local university, and I could really use the extra cash before the holidays approach.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting such a blunt and honest answer. “Well, I usually only hire high school students…it’s a bit easier to pay them under the table.”

“I don’t mind! I have another job at the university I get a pay stub for and all that, I really just need the extra money for the season. If you’re not hiring it’s okay, I can check with the other shops, I just figured since this is a costume shop you’d be getting really busy soon.”

“You figured correctly.” He sighs. “Do you have much experience in retail?”

“Oh, sure, tons! I worked in a grocery store when I was a teenager, so I know how to work a register, and then in undergrad I worked at an Old Navy, so I know how to fold clothes properly and check inventory.” She pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “Here’s my resume, not the most professional way of showing it, but I brought it nonetheless.” She unfolds it and slides it on the counter towards him.

Harry takes it and furrows his brows as he reads it over. Seems like she was in her first year of grad school, but had graduated from her undergrad a couple of years ago. Her undergraduate degree was in social work, and it looks like she had been working in an office for a couple of years. Now she was going for a graduate degree in school counseling. She had plenty of experience, that wasn’t his worry, he just wasn’t sure he would be able to properly compensate her.

“My busiest hours during the season tend to be between 3 and 7PM, and then I’m swamped on Saturdays. How many hours a week do you think you could work?”

Her features soften as she perks up from his question.

“I’m honestly free by four most days, and Saturdays are no problem. Well, as long as I don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn.” She chuckles. “I’m no good early in the morning. I could do Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday if that works for you?”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you more than ten dollars an hour, and you’d need to keep track of things on your own. I expect the honor system too, no trying to stiff me.”

“That’s perfect!” She was doing the math in her head. “Do you close right at seven? Would I stay after to close up?”

“Probably would need you here until eight. Saturday I’m open eleven to five, would need you here ten to six for that.”

She furrows her brows as she thinks about it. That would roughly come to about twenty hours a week, which was exactly what she was looking for. Then that would be $200 extra in her pocket a week, or $400 if he decides to pay her bi-weekly, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a dime of it coming out for taxes.

“Well, uh…”, she squints at his nametag, “Harry, I think we have a deal.” She smiles and extends her hand for him to shake. He takes it gently and smiles at her. “When can I start?”

“Why don’t you come in this Saturday around 9:30? I can go over everything with you without have to rush. There’s a little kitchen in the back and all that so feel free to leave food here if you feel like packing a lunch or snacks. I also keep a lot of snacks around.”

“Works for me.” She shrugs. “If you’re here until eight most days, what time do you usually open?”

“Around ten, I get here for nine.”

“Those are long days.”

“I don’t mind it, there’s always a lot to do.” It’s quiet between them for a moment.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. See you Saturday!” She beams.

“Wait, uh, the door will be locked when you get here, and I can’t just give you a key, barely know you.” He chuckles. “But here.” He grabs a business card and writes his cell phone number on it. “Just text me when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”

“Perfect.” She looks at the card. “Thanks, Mr. Styles.”

“Stick with Harry, we don’t need to be so formal.”

“Alright, thanks, Harry.”

Out the door she goes feeling way better than when she walked in. He wondered how close in age they might be, she had to be around the same age as him, if not only a year or so younger. It would be nice working with someone he could actually talk to. He likes the teenagers, but sometimes he just had no idea what they were talking about.

//

Saturday morning Y/N isn’t sure what to wear. Harry hadn’t said anything about a uniform, so she decides on a pair of khakis and a black polo to at least look the part of a retail worker. She tucks the shirt in to look professional, and to make sure she looked cute. She puts her hair up in a ponytail, and out the door she goes. She grabs a coffee from the shop across from Harry’s, and takes out her phone to text him.

Y/N: Good morning, Harry! It’s Y/N, I’m outside the shop 😊

She sips her warm drink as she waits for him to appear in the windows. She smiles as she sees him walking up, and he opens the door for her.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiles, voice still a little gravelly from sleep. It makes her blush.

“Morning.” She nods as she walks in. “Oh…I should have asked you if you wanted a coffee.” She frowns at herself. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, had mine a little while ago. I should’ve asked you if you wanted anything.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways…”, he looks her up and down, “don’t feel like you need to dress so…well, I should have texted you about attire. Um, you can wear pretty much whatever you want. I just ask if you wear jeans that they’re not ripped, and if you wear leggings make sure you’re bum is covered. You never know what kind of old creeps might be coming in here to steal glances.” She nods at him and follows him behind the register and into the back room. “So this is where I keep reserved costumes. People will call ahead sometimes with their measurements and what they need.” He opens another door that leads into a breakroom. It was small kitchen with a slop sink, decent sized fridge, microwave, blender, toaster, and hot plate on the counters.

“I think you have every appliance known to man.” She laughs.

“Well, I can’t exactly have an oven in here, so I stalked up on other things. There’s some small pots if you feel like having pasta, that’s why I have the hot plate, you just need to remember to unplug it when you’re done. Turns out a lot of clothes are flammable, go figure.” His jokes makes her giggle, and he likes the sound of it. “And then through this door is the office. I have some lockers in here so you can hang your coat up, or put a bag away. Bring a lock if you feel like it, but I promise not to steal your things if you promise not to steal mine.”

“Promise.” She nods. “Where are the bathrooms?”

“In the back of the store along with the dressing rooms. We’ll get there in a moment. Every night I have a cleaning crew come in to make sure everything is spick and span, but accidents happen during the day sometimes so it’s on us to clean that up when it occurs.”

“No problem there. I used to clean the bathrooms at the grocery store all the time. Not my favorite thing to do, but I’m no stranger to it.”

He nods and then leads her back out to the register. He explains how he bookkeeps, and how important it is to save every receipt. Then he takes out what looks like a magazine that explains all of the types of costumes and accessories he keeps. He essentially had the shop on a grid system so everything was easy to find. She would need to learn this so she could properly help the customers. Then he leads her to the back of the store, shows her the dressings rooms and bathrooms, and then to the very back room where all of the storage was.

“Holy shit.” She says to herself. “You could get lost in here.” She swallows.

“You shouldn’t need to come back here too much. I usually have what people need out front, but sometimes you may need to snag some things from here. Mostly shoes.” He takes her back into the main area and into the office so they can sit. “I have cameras just about everywhere. Kids can sometimes pocket the costume jewelry. I have security codes for the doors as well, but I’ll always be here before you, so you won’t ever have to open, or close for that matter.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your class schedule like?”

“I have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and then on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I go to a middle school for my practicum hours. I’m hoping to become an adjustment counselor, you know, helping students with more serious issues.”

“At the middle school level no less, wow.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiles.

“You said you had a job at the university too, how do you have the time for that?”

“Oh, I get a stipend as a TA.” She shrugs. “The classes I actually take are online, so I have plenty of time. This is just for the season anyways, so it’s fine.”

“Right.” He opens his desk drawer and slides a nametag towards her. “There you are, no you’re a proper employee.”

“Thank you.” She takes it and puts it on, her tongue slightly peeking out as she does so. “So, how do I get paid? Are you gonna sneak me an envelope every week?” She chuckles.

“That’s the plan, yeah. The pay period will be like Saturday to Saturday, so I’ll pay you on Fridays, sound good?”

“Sounds great! Thank you again. I’ve been budgeting just fine and making things work, but things add up during the holidays: dinners, gifts, parties, all that stuff, and I just wanted to have some extra cushion.”

“I think that’s really smart. It’s nice to see you don’t mind working hard.”

“How did you come to own a costume shop?”

“Worked here as a teenager, so after uni the old man was selling it and he took a chance on me. Been running it for four years now.”

“Shit, you’re really young to be doing all of this.” She looks at him wide eyed. “I still have to call my mom to ask her if I should separate my delicates from the rest of my wash, and here you are…owning and running a business.”  

Harry swallows, and nods at her.

“Um, let me show you how the register works, and then we can open up.”

They get up and go back out front. He shows her the prices for everything that he keeps on a laminated sheet of paper. She listens to him intently, nodding along and taking mental notes.

//

It was a little slow in the beginning, so Harry has Y/N put away some costumes that people left in the dressing rooms. A small rush comes in right at noon, and they work together to get everyone settled.

“No, I wanna be Batman!” Y/N hears a small girl whale out at her father.

“But you’d look so pretty as Cinderella, honey.” He pleads with his daughter.

“Pardon me.” Y/N says. “We have tons of Batman costumes in girls sizes.” She smiles.

“You do?” He asks her.

“Sure! Lots of girls like dressing up like super heroes, and their costumes cover up a lot more, so it’s much more practical. She’ll stay warm and won’t trip over a long dress.” She leads them over to the area. “And she’ll still look plenty cute.”

“Alright.” He sighs with defeat. “Batman it is.”

“Yay!” The little girl exclaims as she snatches a costume off the rack.

Y/N looks over and sees that Harry was watching the interaction. He gives her a thumbs up, and goes back to the register. They take their lunch breaks at different times, and when the end of the day comes she lingers while he checks everything over at his desk.

“You can go, Y/N. Good first day.”

“I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, but I walked here because I live close by, but it’s raining…”

“Oh…you need a ride?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Her face flushes. “I can order an uber if you-“

“I don’t mind.” He gives her a soft smile. “Sit on the couch if you like, I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.”

She nods and does as he says. She scrolls through her apps on her phone while she waits for him. She hears him sigh, and he knuckles at his eyes before standing up.

“Alright, let’s go. Where do you live?”

“Just over at The Ledges.”

“No shit? I live there too.”

“Seriously?!” She stands. “Okay, now I don’t feel bad.” She chuckles.

“No need to feel bad regardless.” He puts his coat on, grabs his keys, and they head out. He double checks that the doors are locked, and they make their way to his car. He even opens the door for her. “What building are you in?”

“Five, you?”

“Three. Got a roommate or anything?”

“Yeah, I live with a girl in the same program as me. She’s nice enough, we’re still getting to know each other, but we like a lot of the same movies and music, so it’s been easy to hang out when we have time. What about you?” She tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Got a roommate?”

“Nope.” He says proudly. “Can finally afford to live on my own, which has been nice.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely, though?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “Most of my time is spent at the shop talking to people all day, so I don’t really mind the quiet once I’m home.”

“Not even a pet to keep you company?”

“I’ve just learned to take care of myself properly, I don’t think I’m quite ready to keep another thing alive.” She laughs at that and it makes him smile.

“You’re really funny, you know that?” He pulls up to her building once he’s turned into the complex. “Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it. I definitely would have caught a cold if I walked in that rain.”

“Anytime, seriously, don’t be afraid to ask.”

She nods and gets out. He makes sure she’s inside before making the turn to his own building.

//

Harry drove Y/N home most evenings. Her help was the best he’s had in a long time, maybe he could afford to hire her on like a regular employee…only if she wanted. She was personable with the customers, and he noticed she’d pick an accessory to wear during all of her shifts to get into the Halloween spirit. One day it was a tiara and a sash, another day it was cat ears, and another it was devil’s horns. Harry would mostly wear graphic tees with old movie posters on them. She thought it was cute. Y/N noticed how well Harry was with the customers too. The kids adored him, so it seemed.

It really didn’t take much for Y/N to develop a crush on Harry. From the moment she walked into his shop she thought he was handsome, but as she got to know him she realized his personality was just her type. She tried to be sneaky decipher whether he was seeing someone or not. There were no pictures of girls on his desk, other than a family photo of him, his mother, and sister. Harry wore a lot of rings, but nothing that screamed he was in a relationship or married. Surely he would mentioned it by now if he was, right? She even got a glimpse at his lock screen on his phone, and all it was, was a picture of a sunflower.

“Just ask him out, Y/N.” Her roommate, Ronnie, says to her one evening over wine and popcorn as they watch The Addams Family. “What do you have to lose?”

“My job.”

“You’re a seasonal employee. As soon as Halloween hits, you’re done there.”

“Not true, he asked me to stay through November. He has sales throughout November so people can buy costumes at a discount. Also, a ton of people come to get fitted for Santa costumes, so I’ll be there a bit longer than anticipated.” She takes a sip from her glass. “I think that if he liked me he would have made a move.”

“He could be thinking the exact same thing about you! And from what you’ve told me, he seems either too shy or too respectful to do something like that. I mean, you work for him, he wouldn’t want you to think he was harassing you.”

“Hm, I never thought of it like that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe…maybe I could ask him to dinner one night after work. That wouldn’t be totally weird, would it? He drives me home anyways…”

“I think that’s a great idea. Totally casual, off the cuff.”

“Exactly, like, smooth…cool.” She takes a bite of some popcorn. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Y/N, you wrangle middle school kids for half the week, asking a guy out should be a cakewalk.”

//

Saturday Y/N decides to wear a sweater dress over some leggings, and goes with a small witch’s hat that’s on a headband to add some flare to her look. Harry had given her a key since he trusted her, so she lets herself in. She goes right to the back to go say hello. Harry was in the kitchen finishing up his coffee.

“Morning.” He says to her.

“Morning.” She takes a deep breath. “Um, do you have plans tonight, like, after work?”

He furrows his brows as he thinks about it, taking one final sip of his coffee before rinsing his mug in the sink.

“Don’t think so, why?” He almost wished he had made something up. It was sort of lame to not have plans on a Saturday night, wasn’t it?

“Well, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner…” His eyes grow wide at her, so she back-peddles. “You know, as a thank you for being so great to me, and driving me home and stuff.”

“You…you don’t have to thank me for anything, Y/N. You’ve been the best temp I’ve ever hired.” He watches as she looks down at her feet. “But, um, dinner sounds good either way.”

“Really?” She perks up as she makes eye contact once again.

“Yeah, where were you thinking?”

“Nowhere special…do you like Mexican? We could go to Chipotle…” It sounded awful leaving her lips, but it was all she could really afford at the moment.

“I love it there, that sounds good.”

“Great.” She smiles and walks over to the coffee maker to pour herself some. She slips around him to get the creamer out of the fridge. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Harry was distracted all day. Y/N rarely wore dresses to work. Had she dressed up in hopes they’d be going out together later that evening. He looks down at himself, and he’s thankful he decided on a black jumper. Was this a date, or was this to be a casual dinner between two people who work together? He really couldn’t be sure. He thought Y/N was insanely attractive, she was lovely inside and out, but he was her boss so that made things a little…sticky for him. She was around the same age as him, so it wouldn’t be weird if they went out, and she was the one to initiate dinner. So it’s not like he was using any sort of position of power over her.

Around lunch time a boy that works at the coffee shop from across the street comes in. Harry greets him, and he says he’s looking for Y/N.

“She’s in the back on her break.” Harry says. “Do you want me to get her?”

“That’d be great.” The boy smiles.

“Hey, Y/N? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh?” She swallows the bite of veggie wrap and stands up to see who it is. “Hey, Charlie.” She smiles.

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “I…I snagged you some of those chocolate chip cookie squares you like so much.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She comes from around the counter to hug him. “That is so sweet, thank you.”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he tries not to pay attention. He was looking over receipts at the register, but he couldn’t help but be a little nosey.

“No problem.” He hands her the small bag. “Um, I know it’s last minute, but would you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you to ask, but I actually already have dinner plans tonight, so I can’t.” She gives him a soft smile.

“Alright, another time, maybe?”

“Sure.” She nods, and then he makes his way out. She goes back behind the counter. “Harry, you have to try one of these, they’re so good, nice and chewy. I get them all the time.”

“Clearly.” He reaches into the bag to take one out. “You know, if you wanted to go out with him…you could have…”

“Why would I break our date that I literally just asked you to this morning to go out with someone else?” Ah, so it was a date, he thinks to himself as he bites off a piece of the cookie. “Good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Charlie’s nice enough, but I don’t like him like that.”

Harry leaves the conversation as that when she goes back to finish her lunch. Did she like him like that? Was that it? Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

//

The ride to Chipotle is comfortably quiet, the radio could be heard just over the rumble of the streets. Y/N bumps Harry with her hip when he tries to pay for their food, shoving her card into the chip insert. She told him to go grab a table in a snappy way that made him smirk, but he listened to her regardless. He finds a quieter table for two and sets their things down. She comes over with some napkins and sits down.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me.” He says.

“Try again.”

“Thank you.” He sighs.

“Much better.” She smirks and dives into her burrito bowl. “I see you went with the tacos, those are my second favorite.”

“I love tacos, obsessed with them really. I must make them for dinner twice a week.”

“Really?” She asks with a giggle.

“Only because I usually have leftovers. I try to meal prep and stuff like that.”

“Same here! Every Sunday I go to the market, and cook up a storm when I get back. Then it’s all done, and you don’t have to worry.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and takes a bite of his food. It was a little messy, but she didn’t seem to mind. “So, what made you wanna grab a bite tonight?”

She nearly chokes on her food, and she takes a sip of her water.

“Um…I…well…” She stops talking and just looks at him. “I just thought it might be nice to do something outside of work for a change. It’s nice sharing a meal with someone, you know?”

He nods at her and takes another bite of his food. He asks her questions about school, and how things were going balancing working at a middle school and being a TA. She explains that she’s very organized, so she hasn’t been terribly stressed. She was looking forward to her school’s winter break so she could just work at the middle school and not teach at the same time. They had lost track of time, sitting there for over an hour talking. He drives her to her building, and she lingers in his car for a moment.

“That was fun.” She says to him.

“Yeah…thanks again for paying.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Do…do you have plans on Halloween?”

“Aren’t we doing that trick or treat thing at the shop?”

“That’s the evening before.”

“Oh, right! Here I am telling you I’m organized and I can’t get my days straight.” She takes her phone out to look at her calendar. “I think Ronnie and I were planning to put a bowl of candy out in the hallway and watch movies…why?”

“Well, I have a party to go to…my mate Niall throws a Halloween party every year…would you like to come with me?”

Her eyes widen, and he feels like he’s made a mistake. Had he misinterpreted everything?

“That’s only a week away, where on earth am I going to get a costume on such short notice?” She looks at him seriously, and then she laughs.

“Good fucking thing I own a costume shop, or you’d be shit out of luck.” He laughs. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and leans over the console to give him a peck on the cheek. “See you Monday.” She gets out of the car, tummy full of butterflies, and goes inside her building.

//

Ronnie was thrilled for Y/N’s upcoming date, and didn’t mind her breaking her roommate date at all. When Monday rolls around, Y/N can’t wait to see Harry. He was running around when she got in, and he basically yelled at her to get busy. He texted her Sunday night to warn her that the week of Halloween was usually wild with last minute costume buyers. The two of them run around, and don’t close up until nearly nine.

“I can come in tomorrow and Thursday if you need me to.” She tells him as they walk to his car.

“I don’t want you to be stressed out.”

“I won’t be! I’ll be stressed knowing you’re doing all of that alone. Please, you don’t even need to pay me.”

“Y/N.” He chuckles as he drives her home. “Don’t be silly, I’ll pay you. You can come in if you need the extra hours.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Have you already decided on your costume?”

“I think while we’re at the store it would be fun to dress up as a witches?”

“Definitely, and for the party?”

“You…you wanna dress as a pair for that?”

“Well, we’re going as a pair, so I thought that would be fun…but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.” He pulls up to her building and he turns to face her. “Niall’s dressing like Barney from the Flintstone’s and his girlfriend is gonna dress up like Betty, so I was wondering how you’d feel if we dressed like Fred and Wilma…”

“Do you have those costumes at the shop?”

“Yeah, in the back.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Really? Not too cliché?”

“Not at all, I think it could be fun.”

“Great, I can pull everything out for you tomorrow, and you can tell me how it all fits.”

//

It was a busy week, but worth it to see all of the little kids come by the shop. Y/N and Harry made quite the pair of witches. He had invited her back to his place for a movie after everything was all said and done. Tomorrow would be another busy day with the really last minute people, but he wasn’t worried about it.

“Right, so, make yourself at home. I’m just gonna get us some snacks. Can I get you anything to drink?” He says to her as he leads her inside his flat. “I’ve got water, soda, seltzer water…”

“Anything with alcohol in it?” She chuckles. “Long week, you know?”

“Oh, sure! I’ve got these pumpkin ciders you might like, they’re really good.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, go sit.” He smiles, and she goes to make herself comfortable on his couch.

Her eyes scan over his living area, it was nicely decorated. He had some decals in the windows for Halloween, little black cats and pumpkins, it was cute. He comes in shortly with some cheese and crackers, and a couple of ciders.

“I threw some pizza rolls into the oven, thought this could hold us over for now.” He says as he sits.

“Good thinking, thank you. This is a nice place, just a one bedroom?”

“Mhm.” He smiles. “I like living here a lot, it’s the perfect location if I need to get to the shop quick.” They each take a sip of the cider as he grabs the TV remote. “You like it?”

“Yeah! It’s delicious. So, what are we watching?”

“How do you feel about Beetlejoice?”

“It’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Thank god.” He says with relief. “It’s one of my favorites too. I don’t love super scary movies, but ones like these are fun.”

“I’m the same way. I don’t get that thrill other people do from being scared.”

He queues up the movie and presses play. She takes her sneakers off so she can sit with her feet under her, and he likes that she’s able to get so comfortable. He hears the ding from his oven timer and goes to retrieve the pizza rolls.

“They’re really hot, gotta let them sit. I don’t want you to bun yourself.” He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. “Here, you look cold.” She smiles and takes the blanket from him, draping it over her legs. “Let me know when you want a refill too.”

“I will, thank you, Harry.”

He sits back on the couch and pops a cracker into his mouth. This was normal behavior him. He often doted on her in the shop. If she fell asleep at the table during her lunch break she’d miraculously wake up on the couch in the office, or with a blanket draped over her shoulders and the lights dimmed. He knew how tired she had to be, working so much. She didn’t mind it one bit. She was used to taking care of herself, it was sort of nice to let someone else take a turn.

“We can share if you want.” She speaks up as she sees him cross his arms over his body. “If you’re cold too.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s your blanket.” She chuckles, and places some of it over his legs. “There, all cozy.”

They devour the pizza rolls, and drink three cider’s each during the movie. They laugh at the funny parts, and are quiet during the more serious parts. She looks away a couple of times, and even squeezes his hand during one of the scarier scenes. They didn’t touch other than that, though. He didn’t want to make things awkward before the party.

“Oh, I love this part at the end with the football team.” She giggles and finishes her last drink. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.” She turns her body to look at him.

“Me too.” He stands up, and starts cleaning everything up. She follows him into the kitchen with the empty cans. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” She tosses them in the recycling bin he has next to the trash.

“I can walk you home if you want.”

“That’s okay, I think I can make it.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry.”

“Will you…at least text me when you get back?”

“Sure.” She nods and gets her shoes and jacket on. He walks her to his door with his hands in his pockets.

“I can pick you up before work tomorrow if you like.”

“That I’ll definitely take you up on. It’s gonna be cold tomorrow, I think.” She throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek quickly. “Thanks for a nice night.”

“Bye.”

He sighs as she leaves, and sighs heavier as she makes her way out of the building. She gets inside her own flat and tells Ronnie everything.

“Shit! I forgot to text him!”

Y/N: so sorry, I got in like 10 min ago

Harry: no worries, glad you got in safe

Y/N: thanks again for a really nice night…you’re fun to watch movies with

Harry: you’re welcome, and so are you

“God, why does he have to be so sweet?”

“So, he really didn’t make any moves?”

“No.” She sighs. “We shared a blanket, but that was about it, and I was too nervous to do more than to touch his hand a couple of times.” She groans and sits down on the couch with a huff. “Like…are we dating? Just friends? I’d love to know.”

“You should ask him.”

“You can’t just ask that sort of thing!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s awkward. Ugh, I just had to go work for someone like him. Why couldn’t it have been some old lady?”

//

The work day goes by like normal. Y/N uses ladies room to get into her Wilma costume. Harry had given her an orange wig for the hair, and she got it up into a decent enough bun. The dress was really cute on her figure, and she felt good about it. She’d be cold, but only for the couple of minutes she’d be outside. Harry was waiting for her in the main area with his Fred costume. He was not wearing a wig.

“I’m pretty sure Fred Flinstone has black hair.” She runs a hand through his curls and his face flushes. “But I suppose this will do.”

“You look great, Y/N.”

“You think so?” She does an innocent twirl. “Not too skimpy?”

“Not at all.” He smiles.

They drive to Niall’s, and Y/N is welcome with open arms from the second they walk in. Everyone at the party had great costumes, and she was happy her and Harry went all out. There was music playing, plenty of snacks and drinks, and even a few games. People were playing beer-pong in the kitchen, others were playing some card games. There were some people dancing in the living area. Y/N wondered if some other grad students were mixed into the bunch.

“Want something to drink?” Harry asks her and she nods yes. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the drink cart in the kitchen. He looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“Vodka tonic, please.”

“Coming right up.” He makes two drinks, and hands her one. “Let me know if It’s too strong.”

“Mm.” She takes a sip. “It’s perfect.”

Much to her surprise, Harry keeps an arm around her shoulders for most of the night as they mingled with his friends. It was loose around her, but he was making it pretty clear to anyone else looking at them that she was spoken for. They didn’t drink too much, enough to have a healthy buzz, but not so much that Harry wouldn’t be able to drive later.

“Are you having fun?” He says into her ear. She looks up at him and nods yes. He smiles and goes back to the conversation he was having with Niall.

Y/N liked Harry’s friends. They were all really nice, and did their best to include her in the chit chat. It was a fun night. A little after midnight they decide to call it quits, and head out. Y/N takes the wig off and shakes her hair out the second they’re in the car.

“Man, that thing was itchy.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks at him. “What?” He was already looking at her.

“You’re…you’re just so…” He reaches for her and cups her cheeks in his large hands. They were barely an inch apart, and she could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Please.” She nods slightly, and then he does it.

His lips slot between hers, and her eyes flutter closed. His lips were soft, and he tasted like the mint from the gum he was chewing. Her hands move to the collar of his costume and she tugs him closer to her. He pulls away just as she was opening her mouth a little more, her lips moving towards him. His forehead presses to her.

“Fuck, I…I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into the shop, but-“

“Do you wanna go back to my place?”

He nods yes, and throws the car in drive, speeding to their complex. His hand rests on her thigh, squeezing it occasionally, reminding her that he was there and this was happening. He parks in one of the free spaces in front of her building, and gets out of the car. He jogs around the other side and opens her door for her. The air was cold, but the heat radiating between the two of them was scorching. He helps her out of the car, and his lips are on hers again. They shuffle to the main entrance, and she keys in. He’s about to push her up against the wall, but she pushes on his chest.

“Cameras.” She says against his lips, and she tugs him down the hall, and to the elevator.

He keeps his hands to himself while in the elevator, unsure of more cameras, but when she gets them to her door he puts his hands on her shoulders as he stands behind her.

“Is Ronnie home?” He whispers in her ear and goosebumps raise on her skin.

“N-no, she decided to visit some friends for the weekend.”

She keys into the apartment, and she just barely gets the door closed when she’s being pushed up against the wall. If she had the strength to pick him up and carry him to her room she would, but she can’t, so she just tugs on him to move further into the flat. His lips felt so good on hers, and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, causing him to groan against her. She finally gets him in her room, and she pushes him back onto her bed. She straddles him immediately, and his hands squeeze at her hips.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks as he looks up at her. “It’s not too fast?”

“Consider it third date sex, I’m good with it if you are.” She reaches for the hem of her dress and lifts it off herself, revealing a white lace set of underwear. His hands slide up and down her sides.

“Third date, huh?” He smirks.

She leans down to kiss him.

“Chipotle.” Her teeth tug at his bottom lip and she lets it snap back. “The movie last night.” She sucks a mark into his neck, just under his earlobe. “And tonight.” She sits back up. “So, no, I don’t think this is too fast, do you?”

“No.”

He flips her over onto her back, and she giggles as he works to get his costume off. He hovers over her, and kisses down her neck. He mouths over her covered nipples and sucks on her through the fabric. Her hips buck up towards him as he continues working his way down her body. Her heart was about ready to beat out of her chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks just as his lips go right below her belly button.

“Uh…I was going to take your underwear off, if that’s alright.”

“And then what?”

“I’d love to have a taste of you, if you let me.”

“You really wanna do that? It…it doesn’t gross you out?”

“What’s gross about it?” He smirks. “This right here?” He cups her mound and she whimpers. “One of the greatest wonders of the world. So, can I?”

“Yes.”

He hooks his fingers into her panties, and he tugs them down her legs. He kisses on her hips as he opens her legs. He sucks on each of her lips before licking up her slit. He swirls his tongue around her clit, which was positively throbbing for him. He wraps her lips around the small bud and sucks. Her mouth falls open and her hands fly to his hair.

“Oh, fuck.” She moans.

He moans against her, and it just makes her pool between her legs even more him. He was really enjoying this, which was making her enjoy it even more than usual. It was usually a force with guys her age, but Harry had no problem with it. If she didn’t want to suck his dick before, she definitely did now.

Harry removes his mouth from, only for a moment, to suck his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. He slides them through her folds, and then carefully slips them inside her center. She gasps from the stretch at first, and then she feels like she’s melting into the bed. His mouth goes back to her clit while his fingers curl up inside her to pet against her front wall. Her hips start moving along with the rhythm of his fingers, chasing her release.

“Shit, Harry, ngh.” She was panting now.

Her legs move over his shoulders and her heels dig into his back. He groans against her as she falls apart underneath him. He works her through it, giving her clit slow licks as he pulls his fingers from her. He sucks his fingers into his mouth. They make eye contact, briefly, before she’s pinning him down, and she’s yanking his boxers off. Her eyes widen when she sees his length slap back against his lower tummy. She pecks his lips before getting situated between his legs.

Y/N licks up the underside of his hard length, and his head falls back. Her mouth wraps around his tip and she suckles on it before popping off. She spits into her hand and wraps it around him to pump him slowly. She cradles his balls and moves to suck and lick gently on them.

“Oh, dear god.” He moans. “Y/N, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Do you wanna just fuck now? Wanna fuck me, Harry?” She pouts at him.

He was surprised by her. He nods at her, and she smirks at him. She gets up and takes her bra off while she walks into her bathroom to grab a condom. She tosses it to him as she knees back onto the bed. He rips it open and rolls it on, and he gets back on top of her. He rolls the head of his cock between her folds and around her clit before pushing inside her.

“Still sure? I can stop.”

“No, please, I want it, Harry.”

He smiles and continues to push inside her. She grits her teeth at the feeling. Once he’s all the way in he gives her a moment before slowly pulling back out. He sinks back inside her, and that’s when it starts to feel good. She was nice and tight around him, not that he really cared. He knew it would feel good because he liked her so much. He did wonder, though, when the last time someone had the privilege to stretch her out like this.

“You feel so fucking good.” He says and leans down to suck on her bottom lip. His hands move to knead her breasts, and she moans.

She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. She just want him to smother her. She moves her hips up to rock along with his, and she gasps when she feels him hit her g-spot.

“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop.”

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Fuck, Harry, yeah, keep going.”

He had per panting again, and her nails were scratching down his back. It felt good, though, to feel her just about breaking his skin because he’s making her feel so good. Her back arches off the bed as she comes undone again, and he presses hard inside her so she can really feel it. She thought maybe he had come too since he was pulling out, but he grips her hips and flips her onto her stomach. He pulls her back, spreads her apart, and pushes back inside her.

“Oh!” She gasps.

“This okay?” He grunts.

“More than okay, fuck.” She pushes back against him and he nearly chuckles.

Quick, deep strokes were entering her. Her bed was shaking, and her cheeks were straight up getting clapped. It was such a breath of fresh air to be with man who knew what to do with it. He grips the back of her neck to steady himself as his thrusts get sloppy.

“I’m gonna come.” He groans. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ He moans out as he spills into the condom.

He was so vocal, and she really liked that. He pulls out of her slowly, and takes the condom off.

“Trash is over there.” She breathes and points towards her desk. He nods and gets up to dispose of it. She gets up and waddles into her bathroom to use her toilet. When she comes back out he’s getting his boxers back on. “You, um, don’t need to leave if you don’t want to.”

“Normally I’d stay, but…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Sort of embarrassing to walk back tomorrow morning as Fred Flinstone.” He smirks.

“Right.” She nods as she throws on a bed shirt, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“But I could stay a little longer, lay with you a bit.”

“I don’t want you to be upset if you fall asleep.”

“I won’t be…suppose it would be funny.” He comes over to her and gives her a kiss on the forehead before going into her bathroom.

He gets into bed with once he’s done, and she snuggles up to his side, laying her head on his chest. Her fingers trace around his various tattoos. He rubs her back, and it lulls her to sleep.

//

The next morning she wakes up to an empty bed. Where he was laying wasn’t even warm so he must have left soon after she fell asleep. She sighs and takes a shower, washing her night away. She checks her phone, and smiles, all worry leaving her body.

Harry: slipped out after you fell asleep, hope you don’t think I’m one of those guys…I had a lot of fun, talk at work Monday?

Y/N: definitely don’t think you’re one of those guys…now lol yeah, let’s talk Monday

She sighs and sits at her desk to get some grading done. Or she was hopeful to get work done. The ache between her legs was proving to be pretty distracting.

//

Y/N takes a deep breath before walking into the shop Monday afternoon. There were plenty of customers buying discounted costumes, so Harry’s only able to smile at her as she slips into the backroom to hang her coat up.

“I guess…do you think he’ll still like this in a year?” The woman asks Harry.

“I’m not gonna like to you, he easily couldn’t, but if I know kids, they like to have options. If he ends up having a couple of parties to go to, he won’t want to wear the same costume to each event.”

“That’s true…alright, you’ve sold me, Harry.”

“Excellent! I’ll you ring you up.”

Y/N brushes behind Harry as he works the register. The whole evening was busy, so when he’s finally able to put the closed sign up, he’s relieved to see her sitting standing in the office.

“Hey.” He says to her.

“Hi.” She blushes.

His hands grip her hips and he effortlessly lifts her up onto the desk. He presses his forehead to hers.

“Y/N, I know we’ve become close, but I’ve been feeling conflicted because I’m also your boss, and the last thing I wanna do is take advantage of the situation.”

“Hey.” She says, cupping his cheeks so he’ll look at her. “We weren’t even at work…everything we’ve done has been outside of this place. You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you regret the other night?”

“No, not at all.” His hands rest on her thighs as he stands between her legs. He tucks some hair behind her ear. “I just don’t really know what to do here.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be working here much longer, just until the end of November, right?”

“Right.”

“So…do you wanna, like, keep dating? Going out and stuff?”

“I’d really like that. I want us to keep getting to know each other. I wish I had stayed the whole night the other night. I felt like such a dick for leaving.”

“Don’t, it’s fine. I would have done the same thing.” She smiles and then bites her bottom lip. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to sleepover.”

“I will?” He smiles.

She nods and he leans in to kiss her. Harry was a simple guy who owned a costume shop, and thanks to the girl in grad school he hired for the season, he made it through Halloween yet again. This time, instead of celebrating his profits with Niall down at the pub, he was kissing the very same girl that took his breath away when she walked in.

[theblockwrites]

“That’s a really strange dog”

Back in March/April, I asked for prompts on my instagram, and one of my friends prompted “that’s a really strange dog” so have a story about a post-grad student and the alien child he tutors! This might lead to a few more stories, in honor of the Area 51 raid lol.

Working in Area 51, Randy’s seen some pretty strange things. Like, maybe not Chuthulu level strange, but definitely Creature from the Black Lagoon and real-life Frankenstein kind of strange. They finally upgraded him to the alien-colony level, because of his “experience with elementary aged children” the bureaucrat had told him (and, upon his confused expression, the bureaucrat has elaborated his “experience” was that he [a] had been that age at some point and [b] frequently babysitted his nieces and nephew). He’s been assigned to be a personal tutor-cum-caretaker  to an alien child (Nizzy) and also has meetings with her alien parents and extended family to go over what she’s learning and how she’s doing.

A four year Biology B.S. and a PhD in theoretical life on other planets has accumulated in, well…

“That’s, uh.” Randy tilts his head before glancing over at Nizzy, who is obviously very proud of her artistic rendition of… something.

“C’est un chien,” the alien child provides. “Ils disent,” and then a sound all too much like a bark came from her mouth, “je pense, au moins.”

Randy’s thankful that he took French back in high school and college, so he can at least understand some of the words she says when she slips into another language. “Yeah, they do ‘woof’ and ‘ruff’ and bark.”

He looks back at the little figurine she’s sculpted out of clay and reminds himself that, alien or not, children are allowed artistic license. But this might be a little much. The alleged dog has, apparently, seven legs (he’s hoping that one of them is supposed to be the tail), three bulging eyes (two of which, he could probably forgive), a horn (?) that stretches from the top of the dog’s head, like the spine decided that the skull wasn’t a good stopping point), two little things that might be ears (but they could also be additional, smaller, horns), and, to top it off, the dog, which is mostly a brown red color (a little lighter than the color of dried blood), is a bright yellow sphere that, potentially, is supposed to be this poor creature’s nose.

Yep, that’s a really strange dog.

“Est-ce que tu aimes mon chien?” Nizzy sounds very hopeful, asking him if he likes her sculpture. And that’s when he realizes it doesn’t matter if it looks like a normal earth dog or it’s some kind of nightmare (night-hound?) that exists somewhere out there. She’s had fun making this little sculpture and she wants his approval for it now.

He turns to her and scoops her small body up, causing her to let out a gurgling sound that is her species’ equivalent to a laugh. “It’s perfect.”

She pinches his cheek, her sharp nails nearly breaking his skin. “Liar! C’est horrible.”

He shakes his head as he sets her down on the ground. She sits down, crossing his arms and looking up at him. “Did you have fun making this?”

“Oui.”

“Then it’s perfect, because it brought you happiness, which makes me happy, so of course I like it.”

Nizzy smiles. Randy’s still not sure how the vaguely lizard features manage to look mischievous (maybe it’s their color?); he’s just learned to take it in stride at this point. “Then, you’ll put Romulus on your office desk?”

He blinks. “Romulus?”

“Oui, he has seven legs like Rome had seven hills. I think it’s a very nice name.”

He (Randy, that is, thankfully not Romulus) shakes his head, a smile on his face. “Yes, of course Romulus gets to go on my desk. I can’t wait to show him off to everyone.”

He found himself realizing that was true; Nizzy seemed to be on a different path than the other alien children and was consistently surprising the supervisors. He was proud that he helped foster her creative side and, though it was more than a little absurd to look at, that he had something to remember this by now.

[parismiki]

“How is Paris?”

Hello readers! Welcome to my blog. I’ve been meaning to write a blog for some time now, really since my days in Chicago, but I never felt this urge until now. Currently I feel like I am being tested to my limits and I have so many thoughts about so many different things. Writing has always been an outlet of mine (have kept journals since I learned how to hold a pen basically) and so here it is - a window of insight into my thoughts about a variety of different things. 

I don’t really have a theme for this blog, but I know it will touch on issues that are important to me: race, activism, Japanese American and Asian American identity, feminism, mental health, radical politics, etc. Given that I’m currently also in France with the generous help of a Fulbright scholarship (a lot will be discussed soon about this), my posts may be more focused on my current experience in France and how I have been navigating this foreign country. 

So, to start, many people have been asking me how Paris has been. There is some sort of illusory expectation that people have of my time here in Paris - that I’m happily eating baguettes every day (I am not -- I eat only rice and noodles), that I’m picnicking by the Seine, and I’m going to all these cool art galleries and museums on the daily. 

This could be farther from the truth. 

I am struggling. 

This is not the same experience that I had studying abroad through UChicago three years ago, where I took classes in English taught by UChicago professors at the UChicago Center in Paris with UChicago classmates. I had a huge safety net while I was here, which enabled me to go out and explore the city and meet new locals while still feeling rooted to a community of American students. I didn’t need to get a visa because I was here for less than 90 days, the housing situation was largely taken care of by the study abroad coordinator, and I was used to the UChicago pedagogy. The huge difference here is that I am going to grad school in Paris, working towards a professional degree, which entails a large degree of responsibility, self-reliance and resilience. 

However, this past month has been incredibly difficult for me. The workload is intense, unlike anything I saw in my quarters with the heaviest workloads at UChicago. I am taking eight classes that meet once a week. For one of my core classes, I must read four books for the midterm, which is less than a month away. Work is always on the back of my mind and I fear that I may miss an assignment.  There is rarely any time to be resting or relaxing, because I tell myself, well you could be using this time to study. 

As someone prone to anxiety, the workload and the added stress of being in a new country has taken quite a toll on me. There have been days where it has been hard to get out of bed and days where I feel like I’m just dragging throughout the day. Sometimes I wonder, “is this program worth it? Should I drop out?” but am quickly reminded that if I do, I lose my Fulbright scholarship. Additionally, Sciences Po is not the friendliest when it comes to their students’ mental health - their psychological services are minimal, and they fail you if you miss more than 2 classes (yes, attendance is taken in even the biggest of lecture classes.) I could go on and on about Sciences Po as an institution, but I can save that for another post. I have had to resume sessions with my therapist in Chicago because the French national healthcare system does not cover therapy services! 

Despite all this, I’ve managed to find small pockets of joy during my time here and have really forced myself to practice self-care. One could say that my most recent FB status asking for self-practice tips was a cry for help - surely I couldn’t be the only one who has gone through this. So here’s what has been working for me so far - and you don’t have to be in grad school either to abide by them!

1. Rely on your family and friend networks back home

Thank god for technology - I remember my dad telling me that when he was in college he had to wait in line in his dorm to use the landline to call his parents. I can’t even imagine how my mother kept in touch with her family back in Japan when she immigrated to the US (will write another post on my newfound appreciation for my mom as I transition to life here.) 

That being said, I text regularly with my friends and keep them updated about what’s going on in my life. Some others are also living abroad and it’s nice to know that we have each other’s backs -- one of my dear friends is doing her JET program in rural Kumamoto. She is 7 hours ahead of me, and always texts me a nice meme or a cute gif that I have the honor of waking up to. Last night I felt especially horrible and called one of my friends (who is going to start her master’s in philosophy at Oxford and we’ll be reunited soon!) who helped me calm down. As people starting new lives in new countries we often forget that we have a support system back home, but don’t forget - they helped to get you where you are. 

2. Read books that nurture your soul

I have always loved to read in order to learn new perspectives, but reading now serves a different purpose: it touches and nurtures my soul. When I first got here, I devoured Ruth Ozeki’s novel A Tale for the Time Being - it was a charming and quirky story that whisked me away to British Columbia/Tokyo. I didn’t know how much I needed it at the time. Currently I’m reading a sociology book called Redefining Japaneseness: Japanese Americans and the Ancestral Homeland, which is so comforting and keeps me super rooted to my own identity. 

I was pretty strategic when packing books and spent a good hour deciding which books to bring with me. I knew that I would be reading a lot of dry public policy and urban theory (I even discussed with my roommate, also an American woman of color, which books we would both bring should we want to borrow from each other’s shelves.) So I brought with me Matthew Desmond’s Evicted (which, luckily enough for me, I ended up having to write a paper on), Viet Thanh Nguyen’s The Sympathizer, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction; Keeanga Yamahtta-Taylor’s From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation, and Louise Erdrich’s The Round House (Erdrich is a Native American fiction writer who writes heavily on Native American issues.) I’ve found that conversations surrounding racial justice are quite lacking in French academic discourse, so these books help to fill that gap in my life. In addition, I brought with me some Japanese language books, including ”コンビニ人間” and “君たちはどう生きるか” to practice my Japanese, because I don’t have access to Japanese TV anymore. 

3. Keep yourself intellectually accountable

One of the best pieces of advice I received from the director of the Humanity in Action fellowship I did this past summer was to keep yourself accountable by writing down your own thoughts and critiques of grad school readings in the margins when taking notes. I’ve found that a lot of the readings we are assigned take on a very neoliberal approach to cities and urbanism, and I am incredibly cynical. Sometimes, I just downright disagree. And instead of feeling exasperated by the content, I write down my critiques and will try to bring them up in class, sometimes daring to bring them up with the professor during lectures. This is how I try to stay engaged. 

4. Travel! 

Paris is pretty accessible to many other European countries by plane and train. In fact, just last weekend I was in Madrid visiting a few friends. I was not feeling my best and and even now I still feel awful for my low energy and that I was not as cheery as I hoped to be - but being around people you already know is comforting. In fact, I had a chance to reconnect with a friend from college who is a current Fulbright ETA in Madrid, who told me that he was feeling the same way as me during the same time last year. Knowing that other people have gone through the same motions while transitioning to life abroad makes you feel less alone. 

All in all, to those of you reading, I’m sorry if I have disappointed you with this blog post. However, I do think I need to be honest about my experience here and share with other folks who may be thinking about studying abroad. If anything, I am giving myself all the time I need to breathe, go through the motions, and eventually settle in. This will be a long process, but I am trying to be patient with myself. 

I cannot end this post without acknowledging the people who have been there for me. I’d like to extend a thank you to Keilyn, Sarah, Elisabeth, Gino, Crystal, Brenna, Shirley, Joe, and Amanda. And to my new friends at Sciences Po, I am looking forward to getting to know you and let’s finish this semester strong :) 

Okay and now some photos!

                   This is me in front of the Museo del Prado in Madrid

                    Hard to see but I was really feelin’ my outfit this one day

                                                   Really cute doggo 

              Colorful olives sold at the Marché Saint-Denis, a banlieue of Paris

[atlasshruggedessaycontest914]

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STUDENT VOICE: The first in my family to go to college, thanks to a scholarship — and a borrowed van

  My parents moved to America from Ecuador in the 1990s, and have always worked hard to make ends meet. As I was growing up, there was no question that education was the most important thing to them. The expectations for my sister, brother and me were high. In some of my earliest memories, my parents were thrilled with the good grades on my report cards. “Keep up the good work! Then you can get a ‘beca’ and go to college!” my mom would say, in Spanish.

I didn’t know until later what a beca was — it’s Spanish for “scholarship.” My parents, and their values, helped me understand that education would be the bridge between the life I knew and the better life my parents wanted for me.

Back to school is a time of firsts, with fresh starts and a clean slate of hopes, dreams and possibilities. I’m one of 16 million American students headed to college this fall. And while I’m certainly not alone among the first-year students getting lost on campuses, as a first-generation college student and scholarship winner who is also the child of immigrant parents, my story is a little different.

Related: How first-generation students are helping each other through college

Where I grew up in Orange, New Jersey, a small town near New York City, the population is mostly low-income and more than 80 percent non-white. Resources such as air-conditioned classrooms and working computers — things that some students in other neighborhoods take for granted — weren’t always available to us. My parents, and many of my friends’ parents, didn’t speak English. Many didn’t have a vote, and we didn’t know how to, or even that we could, use our voices to have a say in this wonderful democracy called America.

“Transportation is expensive, but we managed to borrow a van that could fit my mom, dad, sister, brother, aunt, uncle and me, and we made the trip from New Jersey to Washington, D.C.”

School was hard sometimes. My dad was a math whiz, so he could help me there, but with my parents not knowing English very well, other subjects were tougher. Thankfully, I had my older sister to lean on, and then I helped my brother, and my teachers were amazing.

Throughout my schooling, I always worked hard and aimed high — traits I see in many immigrant families. I found ways of helping others in my community, volunteering with church, and playing the role of tutor, translator and advocate for students who had experiences similar to mine. I knew I could help them in ways that my parents would have wanted to help me.

The day I won the National Honor Society Scholarship changed everything for my family.

I’d been rejected from one college and was heartbroken, but had a wonderful list of options to choose from. Just the day before, I was up most of the night, wanting to go to American University, but knowing that the cost would likely put my first choice out of reach. I woke up ready to make the decision for my second choice, knowing it would be less expensive for me and my family, who would have to work even harder no matter what choice I made.

I got to school that day and could tell something strange was happening. My teacher seemed normal, but there was a buzz in the air, and I couldn’t figure out what the fuss was. I saw a cake, and then I saw my mom crying. Out of thousands and thousands of applicants around the country, they told me that I, Jenny Rodriguez, was the national winner of the NHS Scholarship. It meant that I could afford the education I wanted. I accepted a place at American University, where I am now a freshman, studying politics.

The last few months have been a happy blur. I’ve been working and volunteering with the Boys & Girls Clubs of America and took a church trip to Ecuador to volunteer there, bringing this Jersey girl a little closer to my extended family and my Ecuadorian heritage.

Related: At a corporate giant where one-third of employees were first-generation college grads, staff tries to give back

“Keep up the good work! Then you can get a ‘beca’ and go to college!” my mom would say, in Spanish. I didn’t know until later what a beca was — it’s Spanish for “scholarship.”

Here’s another way my college story is a little different. Move-in day was a family affair, and my extended family saw it as an opportunity for them to learn, too. Transportation is expensive, but we managed to borrow a van that could fit my mom, dad, sister, brother, aunt, uncle and me, and we made the trip from New Jersey to Washington, D.C.

After unpacking on that blazing-hot August day, my family set out to visit the museums and monuments of our nation’s capital. For them, it wasn’t about selfies — it was a chance to be a part of our nation’s story in a way that doesn’t happen in Orange. They seized it.

Only in America is my story even possible. But sometimes, it’s tough being a child of an immigrant family. We’re so proud to be American, but we’re not always welcomed or treated fairly. It’s important to remember that we’re all people who have hopes and fears, too. And we have dreams — like mine of studying and making the world a better place.

I’m so grateful for the opportunity to get a higher education. Without my beca from the National Honor Society, it might not have been possible.

This story on first-generation college students was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for our newsletter.

Jenny Rodriguez is a freshman at American University.

The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn't mean it's free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

Join us today.

Source: https://hechingerreport.org/student-voice-the-first-in-my-family-to-go-to-college-thanks-to-a-scholarship-and-a-borrowed-van/

[jonfarreporter]

Local publisher Paul Kozakiewicz receives highest honor by San Francisco City officials

For more than 30 years local newspaper owner and publisher Paul Kozakiewicz has been serving the local media needs of San Francisco. This past May 21 he was honored at City Hall for his decades of outstanding dedication and service to the community.

To use the word “local” or even “hyper-local” as often the free newspapers in San Francisco are called is truly an understatement. Many of the dozens of neighborhood or district papers that cover San Francisco are some of the best sources, if not “the best” sources for real news and information available.

Newspapers such as The Sunset Beacon and the Richmond ReView cover topics and issues seldom discussed in the mainstream SF Chronicle or Examiner. This is something Kozakiewicz has taken more than great pride in. He made it his mission and he instilled that into his staff and reporters that earned the two neighborhood publications a coveted loyal readership. 

Fellow editor/publishers like Mitch Bull of the Westside Observer, Glenn Gullmes of the West Portal Monthly and Alexander Mullaney of the Ingleside-Excelsior Light would understand because it has been the local free papers that have kept the integrity of journalism alive amid a changing media landscape with the onset of the digital revolution. 

When many newspapers folded and ceased to be, papers like the Sunset Beacon, Richmond ReView, Westside Observer, Ingleside-Excelsior Light, New Fillmore, Marina Times and others carried on.

The reason, despite many challenges, including financial ones, is simple. People want to hear and read about their neighborhood, their city and know what is going on. And, even when so much change threatened the continued existence of such a little local paper, editors/publishers like Kozakiewicz along with his contemporaries previously mentioned, have endured.

This reporter caught up with Kozakiewicz to get his thoughts on receiving the honor from City Hall. “Our democracy is founded with the Fourth Estate, he said. And journalism is very important. I think reliable news sites that adhere to journalistic ethics will survive in some form or another. There are already too many cases where a lack of oversight on business and government has created difficult situations for the public at large.” 

While he has always upheld strict journalistic standards, Kozakiewicz told me previous some years back that it was the business needs of the merchants in the community that was the primary reason for starting the newspaper.

Initially, back in the 1980s, he established the Richmond ReView serving the Richmond District as a way for merchants and local business owners to have a voice. 

Fortunately, while distributing the paper along Geary – the Richmond District’s major merchant corridor, he bumped into Chris Rivers who was the editor/publisher of the Sunset Beacon. The two immediately recognized the mutual benefit of teaming up together and between the two papers they covered a very sizable portion of the City’s readership – a combined circulation of over 40,000 residents.

Literally taking the paper to the streets as well as to individual homes, the impact a neighborhood paper has is considerable. Kozakiewicz knew and understood this. Because, he had been in several businesses, some as sole-proprietor long before he made the decision to go into publishing.

Now teamed up with Rivers, the two editors found office space at the Cournale building on Geary Blvd between 11th and 12th Avenues, right across the street from the Jack In The Box fast food.

The two papers distinct but yet united in purpose complimented one another. With Golden Gate Park between them, the two papers quickly became the “go-to” for local news and neighborhood concerns.

Many times over the course of the two papers’ history, topics and issues that should have appeared first in the SF Chronicle or Examiner found a place, even if briefly in either the Sunset Beacon or the Richmond ReView. One such issue, recently, among the many over the years is the need for adequate water in the event of an emergency.  

With all the attention paid to technology, not much has been given to the City’s aging infrastructure, such as water, sewer, etc.

As the 1990’s moved along, the emerging Internet and various other technologies made the City and the SF Bay Area a magnet for what would be called the dotcom boom. 

With tremendous confidence, Kozakiewicz and Rivers took the neighborhood newspaper format citywide and began a third paper called ‘The City Voice.’ 

Moving the recently established offices from the Cournale & Co. building to South Of Market Area (SOMA) was one risk among many as he and Rivers anticipated competing with the other free newspapers that canvassed the City. Loans and grants were obtained and overhead costs increased.

“I learned more from that experience in the three years we published ‘The City Voice’ than any business school or grad school could have taught me,” said Kozakiewicz.

The added paper which seemed like a natural, actually took Kozakiewicz and Rivers away from the community as the “business” of being among the free papers that served the entire City of San Francisco consumed more than what they bargained for.

As the dotcom boom continued, technology and the new elite changed the social and political landscape. This included newspapers. A digital revolution and the shift of publishing had changed the traditional press and its outreach. Both the San Francisco Chronicle and the SF Examiner scaled back their original publication output. In the early 2000’s The Examiner was purchased by the Fang family, which they in turn, sold to Clarity Media Group.

“I wanted to take the helm of The Examiner, said Kozakiewicz, some time ago. But I told Ted Fang and the family that I had to be editor-in-chief.”

Since becoming part of the Clarity Media Group, The SF Examiner is a meager version of what it once was. Ironically, it became a free paper, and has been ever since. Despite expanded distribution efforts, it has limited new coverage appearing more as a tabloid in format than a strong local newspaper.

After his experience with ‘The City Voice’ (from about 1995 to 1998) Kozakiewicz learned from the losses of that venture and reorganized. Rivers left and Kozakiewicz became the owner and publisher entirely. He returned his focus to the two neighborhood newspapers, amid the new technology mindset that was changing not only San Francisco, it was changing the entire world.

Like Juan Gonzales, the founder of El Tecolote – one of San Francisco’s few Spanish/English newspapers, Kozakiewicz understood that a need for print in some form would be around for quite some time. Whether a generational thing or even a ‘have’s and have not’s’ sort of situation, amid what some call “the digital divide,” a neighborhood, a city, a nation of citizens must be informed.

“I am very proud of the effort of the fine men and women who contributed every month to creating good neighborhood newspapers, said Kozakiewicz. We have helped keep some local businesses strong while serving the community. I think we achieved our goals as a neighborhood newspaper,” he added.

As much as he would like to continue publishing two newspapers every month, he knew at some point the responsibility and ownership must be passed on to the next crew.

In a brief ceremony at City Hall, Supervisors Gordon Mar and Sandra Lee Fewer presented Kozakiewicz with a special framed plaque. 

The certificate of honor proclaims:

“In recognition of your retirement, we applaud your dedication of over 30 years as co-founder and editor of the Richmond ReView and the Sunset Beacon newspapers. Your publications provide a vital platform for neighborhood perspectives and foster stronger community connections on the west side of San Francisco. For your commitment to the freedom of the press, to local neighborhood news reporting and to the Sunset and Richmond districts, the Board of Supervisors of the City and County of San Francisco extends its highest commendation and honor.”

Speaking about the honor received Kozakiewicz said. “It was a great way to cap my journalism career. I am honored to be recognized by the SF Board of Supervisors.”

In 2019, Kozakiewicz sold the Sunset Beacon and Richmond ReView to Michael Durand. The two papers will continue and as Durand sees it, hopefully for another 30 years. 

This article was written by Jonathan Farrell, a contributor for the Sunset Beacon and Richmond ReView since 1993. 

[callmeamab-blog]

‘...which actually.’: Struggles with Writing and Editing

(I was debating between making this an online post or a digital post, I decided for the latter for now)

I was recently putting together some of my zines for a tabling event, when I noticed a sentence in my zine Trans Sexual Geographies with a sentence that ended with “…which actually.” It was about my history with my ex. Reading it, I had no idea what I was trying to say. I felt so embarassed by my typo. It felt like it was there to mock me.

I’ve always struggled to edit my own writing. I just can’t seem to notice my own grammatical hiccups. I also have a habit of randomly omiting certain words when I’m typing. In my head, I feel like I typed the missing word, but it just vanishes. 

Both of my siblings have learning disabilities. Their high school experiences differed from my own greatly–IEP vs. IB. I’ve often thought I probably didn’t have a learning disability because I was taking honors classes in HS. Being the second person in my extended family to earn a graduate degree only reenforced this for myself.

I like zines because of the attitude of acceptance towards imperfections. Mistakes are part of the process of making zines. And I love that about zines and zine culture. But, when I saw that sentence sticking out, I felt of myself guity of my ‘terrible writing’. In grad school, I constantly received feedback about my grammar even after multiple read throughs and edits. I still couldn’t notice my flubs. A part of this has sown itself deep into me. 

I’m not really sure how to proceed with this. It feels good to write about the tension. At the same time, writing scares me. It’s the very thing that reminds me of being a failure    

[rexylafemme]

this precious time when time is new

things come full circle all the time. ruben touched down in nyc on saturday. micah and i trekked to laguardia to get him, laughing on the way about how ridiculous we all were in the bay, how we bet our lil ruben looks more grown now, seasoned, hehe. the last time micah, ruben, and i were together was for the full pisces supermoon in late summer, september 2015--the night before micah would move back to nyc, our last full night at our house all together. a month before ruben would leave, two months before i would leave. this time, ruben arrived in time for the virgo full moon, pisces’ opposite, in late winter 2017, the coldest, snowiest week we’ve had.

that last night together in september, we drove to alameda beach armed with paper, some stones, herbs & flowers, gifts & letters from ex-whatevers & poem drafts to throw to the ocean, ruben’s signature drink: fireball whiskey (ew), a blunt, some candles, a mini speaker. all the trappings for a spell for letting go, for saying goodbye. bitch better have my money on in the car ride there, our heads hanging out the window, boisterous--our anthem for that year (/always), being broke, undervalued, and continuously doing too much work for too little or free, retail and retail and food service and gigs and workshops and unofficial art modeling and freelance writing and recording and plans that kept falling through. now we were in the home stretch. we laid down our blanket, we set out our herbs, our stones, our candles. we sat in a triangle, wrote silently for awhile: what we would surrender to the bay, what we would leave there, what we couldn’t keep or hold anymore. also, what new journeys we needed new strength for.

we went around and said some words about what we’d written, said some sentimental stuff about each other. poured out some fireball, passed it around til it was gone--so sickly sugary & spicy like melted/liquefied big red gum, coating yr mouth and throat. we stuffed our losses in the bottle and walked to the shoreline. we fumbled trying to figure out a way for all three of us to hold the bottle while we threw it, haha. the moon hung to the left of our viewscape, leaving a moving trail of yellow on the water as we watched the bottle bobble away. i walked into the water alone up to my waist--feeling grateful, trying to absolve myself of this place and all its failures, looking up at the moon and asking it my questions about what next and help and please don’t let us lose this. hearing micah and ruben laugh from the sand, smiling to myself with love for them, sighing and crying a little. no turning back now, can’t hold onto everything, nothing is forever, and then it was over, the night. tomorrow everything would be different. just one more chip off an already broken heart. 

“nothing’s changed!” micah exclaimed laughing as we stood propped against the subway doors on the Q train to brooklyn. ruben and i fake-fighting, the bates motel norma and norman faux-codependence theatrical game we’d play-- we all go a little mad sometimes, there’s a cord between our hearts, etc. the three of us hugging and giggling. after almost two hours of traveling from queens to flatbush, we wound up at micah and sharmin’s for game night. i was in the middle of a two-week marathon of insomnia and ptsd nights, so i was feeling raw/cranky/crazy/depleted/negative and was waiting for my affections to catch up with the present moment. ruben! friends! games! you don’t wanna go home and write by yourself, rex, you fool. it’s saturday night! but knowing when i’m like this, at night i get all weird & doubtful & dark, but reminding myself to just be myself, relax, remember what’s good, no pressure, if you need to leave, you can. and you might even enjoy yourself. and of course i didn’t wind up going home til 2am, spent and full, as suddenly the future hit--clocks springing ahead to 3am for daylight savings.

but before that, sharmin’s friends arrived trickle by trickle until there were about ten of us.  uno, jenga, slapjack, drinks, snacks, bullshit, taboo (team names: beyonce v. solange, and ruben and i were on the solange team, the weirder, low key underdog, and we won), stories, music, nintendo, laughter, newness, familiarity. it felt so nourishing to be in a room full of working class folks, folks from queens and bk, and ruben & micah: the two down suburban qts, home people--that easiness and fluency that comes with not having to explain yourself, everyone just getting it, breathing room & shared experiences.  micah and i trying to explain all the wild connections between the people in the bay and the people out here. how i met sharmin, tanya (& tres tho only briefly), and jesse through black brunch organizing in 2014 when i was visiting home from the bay. learning sharmin and jesse both were from my qnz hood and knew my childhood bff ro through other organizing avenues. jova and reuben knew sharmin, too, and tanya and tres, jova having told me tanya and i needed to know each other way before this meeting bc of our poor white femme nyc/nj lives. later, when i moved home and jova was so right about tanya and me, and someow tres & tanya had known micah round the way (?!?!?!). and before that, when micah first moved back to nyc, he called me to talk about some amazing femme he met at the club--something that never happens for us--being so enchanted or even pursued at the club (partially bc we never even bothered to go), and as he described her, i was like, “wait, is her name sharmin???” hehehe, clearly micah can’t get enough of catty witches from queens. explaining the connections between all the ex-friends-&-lovers, too--nyc, the bay-- disenchantments & the chaos and the relief that it was all over. happy to be laughing about it now. ending stories. we have no past, we won’t reach back; keep with me forward all through the night.

origin stories. apparently, the first night ruben moved into our 668 apartment, micah and i were hosting a big party. i laughed and apologized retroactively, but it so sums up where we were at at the time. ruben said it helped him integrate tho, he felt welcomed and i remember being so thrilled to introduce him to everyone. realizing how much the three of us got each other through those two years--all the drama, all the marches, the confusion, blowouts, heartbreaks, housing scares, bad jobs, the nights, the mornings--waking up with glitter on our faces, splayed eyeliner, party carnage, or just waking up to work & life fatigue, big breakfasts, sitting in the sun on our stoop year-round. so much we shared and still a lot of room for things we couldn’t say and didn’t have to. but, how home the three of of us felt to each other then, and now, and how we extended that sense of home to others--sometimes guests sleeping over in every room of the house except the kitchen, our place a safe zone on march routes, multiple sets of people staying with us through rocky times, the big meals we’d host when i was working at  farmers’ markets & the spice shop simultaneously, pooper cat game nights, the trigger warning performance series + parties we threw out of the house. talya called our place the gay frat house (tho i have to say in defense that it was quite clean). leo sun/leo rising/leo moon trio. so familiar, so sweet, so effortless, so open. our little clubhouse, our little family. remembering is good if you don’t let it be the fear in you.

i think we felt lacking then, i think we felt we couldn’t get our footing or find somewhere where we belonged-- but looking back, we created what we didn’t have and we invited other people into it. all the adult misfits. we got burned by being open indiscriminately and it made us shrinking violets by the end, but we’re blooming again now. riding that bloom wave.

at one point the other night, i overheard sharmin say to a friend, “aren’t they so cute? they’re such teen boys over there.” as we were sitting in a corner doing our thing. and that was always true of our vibe-- our bond full of youthful, long-lost brother feels. but, soft, feminine boys, & sometimes we’re not boys at all. 668 40th st, living one up from hell, we’d joke, which maybe is what gifted us that mythical queer fountain-of-youth gene where we look 17 forever. young leos. after long days of work + grad school madness (me) or undergrad madness (ruben), in between assignments, projects, art, meetings, shifts, we were always watching movies from our childhoods, making forts, running around in our underwear, making art on the floor in the living room, doing drag, playing board games, talking shit, pushing each other around and wrestling and cuddling and teasing each other, holding hands and being protective of each other when we had to. our intimacy--so easy & necessary & good & a balm from the bad intimacies we got lost in at times. we grew together: we all taught each other things and challenged each other, especially through our differences. bb ruben had never met a trans person before and micah and i were like “well, here we are!” and both of us so different in our trans-ness. we were all so inviting & open to excavating each other so we could be better at honoring who we all were.

and in new york now, finally living here on my own terms, regardless of the obstacles: housing scares and failures, the last of the bad intimacies (i hope), and family, i am thinking of who i was before. the sense of un-belonging that’s had me leaving new york over and over, the pain of lineage that had me craving escape, craving to be someone else, craving to leave them all behind. while simultaneously always trying to make sense of the people i come from so i could make sense of myself: the grief i never let go of, the contradictions, the violence and the nourishment of us. how all of this and my own self within it--freakish, theatrical, full of shadows, so of them & yet so so other--had me always searching. the people, the others: i was always looking for and the ones i always found. there were the inexplicably lovable yet destructive ones who reified all of the patterns in me i was always trying to leave behind, and then i finally did. bye. and then all the people who were so new; whose influence, paired with my own, allowed us to make something from nothing-- magic, create beauty from old tragedies, whether we spoke of them or not. cosmic people, like ruben and micah, the pretty, sweet boys. boys who weren’t afraid to cry or to touch or to admit to love and fear and failure and wanting. and the three of us, whoever we are and will be, knowing our love was/is strong enough to withhold our leaving, being apart, and all of the transformations that would flush out of walking away, of change. that there would always be a road back. paths that cross will cross again!

and ruben is still here until saturday, so my sentimentality is running away with me. blame it on my wild heart. hehe.

[hazelvt]

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[apsbicepstraining]

How jog facilitated this woman change her lifestyle — and forget 70 pounds

Its astonishing how much better I appear when I fuel my mas right and exercise.

By Julie Arthur

Name : Julie Arthur Age : 26 Occupation : Industrial Hygienist Hometown: Beaufort, NC How long have you been running ? I have been running since October of 2015. What inspired you to start ? I started flowing because I wanted to lose weight and get healthier overall. I was very unhappy with the space I searched, and I decided it was finally time to do something about it. My motivation to make a change received from starting a new job and wanting to be best available I could be. At my brand-new chore, I have access to a gym, line, and a course so there was no reason not to get in shape. How often do you run ? I lead about five days per week. What is your number ? Mondays are my off period but I still make time to stretch, do yoga, and foam roll. On Tuesdays I meet with my flowing group and we do a three to five mile group run. Speedwork at the way is for WednesdaysI use a acceleration exercise intention from my Runners World publication. Thursdays I enjoy a three mile convalescence operate, and on Fridays I am completely off and I centre good nutrition so I am ready for my 10 to 20 mile long run on Saturday. On Sundays I do a slow, easy, three mile recuperation operate that is usually on treadmill.

Related: 5 Speed Workouts Every New Runner Should Try

Do you race? If so, how often, and what kind of hastens ? Yes, I try to do about one race per month. I do 5Ks and 10 Ks predominantly, but Im currently training for my first half marathon on March 4 and my first full marathon in November 2017. Do you engage in other plays or works? If so, what and how often ? I play on an adult league slow pitch softball team in the spring and the autumn, a beach volleyball conference during the summer, and young adults kickball league in the fall. Whats the most rewarding part of guiding for you ? There are so many. Some of my favorite the advantage of ranging are constructing strong friendships with my moving radical, discovering the results of my speedwork show up on my long haul when I get faster, and realizing my mas change as I become more of canadian athletes. I likewise love the way I find after a operate and my increased overall gaiety from being healthy and exercising. I cherish having a few hours of is high time to myself on a long run, and getting to explore different orbits. In all, everything about extending is honoring to me.

Related: 4 Style to Experience Long Runs

Please describe your weight loss journey, including your before and after weights . Before I started ranging and eating well, I was 205 pounds. While I was in grad school, my friends and I went out each night booze, stood out until the bars shut, and then went to Taco Bell before going home. I rarely cooked at home and often eat out. Ogling back at what I ate then reaches me realise just how unhealthy I was. I would cook a casket of Kraft macaroni and cheese and snack the entire box or ingest an entire frozen pizza and cleanse everything there is down with Dr. Pepper, and then go to Cookout or Taco Bell latergross. I assembled Weight Watchers in July of 2013 and now I weigh 133.5 pounds and Ive been able to keep it off by employing and continuing my healthy eating. What is the secret to your weight loss success ? Weight Watchers applied me on the right track and learn me how to acquire healthier alternatives, but I was eventually determined and motivated to lose the load and get healthier for me. The backing from my family and pals was also very important in this process. They understood that I was trying to be healthier and were very accommodating. How do you stay motivated ? The space I detect when Im exercising and eating well is enough to keep me motivated. Its amazing how much better I feel when I fuel my organization right and effort. My extending group also continues me motivated and they push me to be best available runner I can be. Looking back at my before and after photos motivates me to keep pushing to be the best form of myself. Do you have any favorite motivational paraphrases ? Whether you think you can or you think you cant, youre claim. Henry Ford Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work youve already done. Newt Gingrich What are your current short and long term aims ? My current short term goals are to run a half marathon in under two hours and a full marathon in under 4:15. My long-term purpose is to keep the weight off and continue to increase my overall fitness and to stimulate as numerous parties as I can throughout the process. Is there anything else youd like to tell us ? I lately started a blog at iwasjustrundering.com where I tell my weight loss story and post weekly modernizes. ** *

We want to hear how guiding changed you! Transport your storey and defer your photos to us via this web form . Well pick one each Tuesday to highlight on the locate

This article originally emerged on RunnersWorld.com .

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[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: The Curator of LA’s New ICA on Opening Up the Insular Art World

Jamillah James, portrait by Paul Sepuya (courtesy of Jamillah James)

LOS ANGELES — Jamillah James wasn’t always on track to be a curator. “I didn’t actively become interested in visual art until I was in my late teens,” she told Artslant last fall, “and I certainly didn’t think of working in the arts until my early-to-mid twenties. I’m a bit of a late bloomer.” She even failed drawing in college. “My big secret is that I don’t have a master’s degree,” she confided to Hyperallergic, which is a rarity in the highly professionalized arena that curatorial studies has become. Despite her unorthodox path, however, James has established herself as a curator to watch. With her recent jump from assistant curator at the Hammer Museum to head curator at the ICA, the revamped Santa Monica Museum of Art slated to open this fall in Downtown LA, she is poised to make an even bigger splash.

Coming from a musical background, James’s first experience curating was with a cross-disciplinary show while studying at Columbia College in Chicago. “With some encouragement from professors at school, I began working on what would become my first exhibition,” she told NYArts. “It was a sound and homemade instruments show, coalescing both my interest in art and music.” After graduating, she stayed in Chicago, organizing music and performance shows focused primarily on the experimental noise scene, even playing drums and touring with her own band. “I booked Lightning Bolt, Mindflayer, Wolf Eyes, Hair Police, Neon Hunk, Metalux — all those weirdos,” she jokes.

A stint working in publishing in New York was followed by a move to Baltimore, where she started curating more visual arts–centered exhibitions at nonprofit institutions and artist-run DIY spaces. Her curating career with more traditional arts institutions began in 2010 when she became a curatorial fellow at the Queens Museum, working on their Queens International biennial. Then, from 2012 to 2014, she was a curatorial fellow at the Studio Museum in Harlem, where she worked on an exhibition of early work by LA-based conceptualist Charles Gaines, which would travel to the Hammer Museum.

Her move west was spurred by a trip she made to LA in the winter of 2014. “I booked a ticket and came out here in January. I wanted see the Forest Bess show that had come from the Menil, and that was my first time at the Hammer. I was blown away by the show, and I’m a total sucker for marble,” she says of the Hammer’s palatial building. “The way things look here is so different. Everything is elongated, spread out, low to the ground. I’m used to galleries that are the size of this table. I went back to New York and it was cold and dreary. My mind was blown from being here.”

She was in the process of applying to a doctoral program at the University of Rochester, to study with Douglas Crimp, “a personal hero,” when a position opened up at the Hammer. “I thought maybe after grad school I would go to LA, but the opportunity to do so came a lot sooner. I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.”

A Shape that Stands Up installation view at Art + Practice (all photos by Brian Forrest / Hammer Museum, unless noted)

At the Hammer, James was responsible for organizing shows at Art + Practice, a Leimert Park–based nonprofit focused on art, education, and social services founded by artist Mark Bradford. The two institutions had a unique relationship whereby the Hammer would provide curatorial support to Art + Practice for its first couple of years. “It was a learning experience for both organizations,” James says. “And I got to build a good relationship with Mark Bradford, one of the most important American artists working today. He was incredibly generous to take a chance on a young curator like me, trusting in my abilities to make programs that would be relevant to their audience.”

Hammer Projects: Simone Leigh, installation view at Hammer Museum

These exhibitions included A Shape that Stands Up, a group show of painting and sculpture that toe the line between abstraction and figuration, and an ambitious solo show by Alex Da Corte that featured room-sized installations incorporating colored lights, video, sculpture, and even scents. “I think it’s an honor, a privilege, and a challenge making exhibitions that are relatable and feel important and that aren’t just this insular thing where I’m only talking to five people. I don’t want my exhibitions to be preaching to the choir,” she says. “I want people to feel welcome when they go to see an exhibition that I’ve worked on, but I also want people to be challenged. With Alex’s show, that was the first time we staged installations at A+P. I wanted to push the envelope and up the ante in terms of what art can be, and what it can look like, and who can make it.”

Alex Da Corte: A Season in He’ll, installation view at Art + Practice

With her new role at the ICA — the non-collecting kunsthalle with more than 12,000 square feet of space — James plans to continue pushing those boundaries, building off of the Santa Monica Museum’s history. “One of the main things that is to our benefit is that we have years of history supporting emerging, under-recognized artists and allowing established artists to take new directions by supporting more experimental exhibitions,” she says. “We’re putting our money, time and intellect where out mouths are and really advocating for artists who may not ordinarily have opportunities to show in an institutional setting.”

James locates her own work as a curator, and the ICA’s vision, within a larger context of opening up an art world that has been insular and exclusionary for far too long. “I want to see us get to a point where museums aren’t just having one black artist a year, one Latino artist a year — that every season there is an artist of color, women artists, queer artists, and that we are all actively working against the canon. We have to work against this cult of genius and allow there to be a diversity of voices, especially at this moment in time where civil liberties are going to be trampled upon and people are really going to experience oppression in a whole new way.”

ICA director Elsa Longhauser put it succinctly when she told Artforum: “[James] champions the values that ICA LA holds in highest regard — critique of the familiar and empathy with the different.”

This broadening of opportunities and diversity of voices extends not just to the artists James works with, but to the audiences she hopes to draw to her exhibitions. “I like to think of curatorial practice as a pedagogical practice. Curators are the conduit between artists and publics. I would love to see there be more direct interaction, but I’m happy to be in that go-between role to assist artists as they realize ambitious projects, to help with cultivating a language around the work that they’re doing for a general audience, and to be there as a resource for visitors who have certain questions about the work. At the end of the day, allowing people to experience an experience and letting them do it on their own and come to their own conclusions is just as important as the blood, sweat, and tears — and Red Bull — that I pour into writing about an exhibition,” James says. “It’s all valid.”

The post The Curator of LA’s New ICA on Opening Up the Insular Art World appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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[hottytoddynews]

Ole Miss continues to hit on all cylinders academically speaking, and the Meek School of Journalism and New Media is one of the hottest places on campus. HottyToddy.com recently visited with Dean Will Norton to better understand why the school is excelling.

Susan, Will, Alex, Dean Norton and Laine at a recent birthday party.

HottyToddy.com: Dean, before we address all of the great things happening on campus, please share with our readers a little about your history.

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: I was born in the Belgian Congo. My parents were missionaries. I completed undergraduate work at Wheaton College, majoring in History. I was the sports information director for two years at Wheaton and then became sports editor of the small daily newspaper in the town.

HottyToddy.com: However, your formal education was only starting.

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Yes. I was awarded an M.A. at Indiana University and a Ph.D. at the University of Iowa – at that time perhaps the leading Ph.D. program in the nation. In the interim, I worked at the Chicago Tribune and was managing editor of a Christian magazine publishing house in Wheaton, Ill.

Will Norton and Blake Tartt. Photo by Jim Hoot Heo.

HottyToddy.com: You apparently were quite driven at an early age.

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: I had good preparation, and when I arrived at Ole Miss in 1974, journalism was a small department that produced great graduates.

HottyToddy.com: What an understatement! Your first experience at Ole Miss would extend how many years?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: I was here until 1990. I was interim chair of the department for two years and chair for 11 of those 16 years.

HottyToddy.com: Your travels then took you to Nebraska.

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: I was Dean of the College of Journalism and Mass Communications at UNL for 19 years, returning to Ole Miss in 2009.

HottyToddy.com: How has the Meek School changed during the last eight years?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: We now boast a faculty of 32 compared to nine positions as recently as 2011 (We had more than nine persons teaching for us in 2009, but those positions were not in our school). Our faculty is far more diverse — which better relates the “real world expectations.”

HottyToddy.com: Wow! Talk about growth. What prompted this tripling in size?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: The university has a spectacular Dept. of Admissions. Whitman Smith, the director, does an incredible job. Also, the beautiful campus makes our job so much easier in recruiting. Jeff McManus and his team demonstrate an organization with a high morale that makes this place look like a park. Also, out-of-state tuition at Ole Miss ($11,000) a year is cheaper than in-state tuition in most states.

Will Norton with Larry King, who hosted an interview program on CNN, and Wes Pippert, former White House correspondent for UPI.

HottyToddy.com: Aren’t you being overly modest about the Journalism’s role in this unprecedented growth?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Our school is doing very well. We’re attracting students from throughout the nation. We are definitely moving in the direction of the top tier schools. Most schools of media have declined in number of majors – many have declined drastically. We, fortunately, have been able to triple in size in seven years.

HottyToddy.com: Who is the best and why so?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Northwestern and Arizona State are definitely at or near the top. These institutions have more dollars to work with and are directly connected to the elite media. Their scholarship, teaching and service is all focused on media. Even their theory classes relate to the challenges media professionals face. I believe we relate well with their standards, and we also have an emphasis the media of our state and region. A quality media school has close connections with the broadcast, newspaper and media communications practitioners of their states. Some of the programs in elite universities do not have those close relationships.

Will Norton and Nosa Egiebor in the Palace of Haile Selassie in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Dr. Egiebor is Senior international officer, executive director of global engagement and professor of chemical engineering.

HottyToddy.com: In this respect, haven’t we done well in placement of graduates?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Yes. When this was a department, students left here and became media leaders throughout the region and also in the elite media. We are continuing with similar success. The Meek School has continued that momentum. During the last few decades, the program has been particularly effective in placing graduates in broadcasting and magazines, but the long-term heritage is placement in elite newspapers like the Boston Globe, Los Angeles Times; Miami Herald The New York Times and the outstanding weeklies and dailies in Mississippi. Remember, we were a print-only program until 1979.

HottyToddy.com: Will this phenomenal growth continue here?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Future increases in enrollment probably will be less dramatic because of how big we have become. Our growth has been driven by the addition of the Integrated Marketing Communications degree program. Students are attracted to degree programs that feature professors who actually worked at in the business. They want to learn how to survive in the marketplace. As the job market becomes tighter, students and parents appreciate the Meek School focus.

HottyToddy.com: What is one of the ways that you advise incoming students and parents today?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Students can major in either Journalism or Integrated Marketing Communications (IMC), all IMC students must have a minor in business. We also encourage students to double major.

We offer a broad range of classes preparing students for work in audio, video, magazines, social media and newspapers. Almost any profession today is going to be greatly influenced by technology, but our first priority is to help each student write and speak better. No matter what the technology, a professional has to write and speak well. That means an emphasis on good grammar.

HottyToddy.com: What motivates you?

Farley Hall, home of the Meek School

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: Students. You do everything you can to help each student who wants to excel and you do everything you can to help all the students become skillful with the English language. We have three classes that are quite large lecture classes, but most courses are required (by accreditation standards) to be 20 students or fewer. Having smaller classes facilitates close interaction with students and leads to faculty spending a lot of time working with students outside of class.

HottyToddy.com: What is driving this success?

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: There are five elements to a great program: Good faculty, good students, an outstanding curriculum, good facilities and alumni who truly care. We have alumni who stay in contact and support our efforts to produce outstanding graduates. In fact, there are not many schools that have alumni like Becky and Ed Meek who have committed their resources so that media students will have a great education. I could mention many more like Becky and Ed. We are truly blessed to have many alumni who have been incredibly successful and continue to care for this school. They know that we are among the elite programs in the nation, and they cheer us on and support us in so many ways because they remember their days here and how their years at Ole Miss changed their lives.

HottyToddy.com: Let’s talk core numbers for just a moment.

Dean Will Norton, Jr.: We had 263 students graduate in 2016. As of December, the Meek School of Journalism and New Media had 1510 majors. In 2009, this number was 455. We have 67 majors who also are in the Honors College. In 2009, we had nine. So, we feel we have improved in number of majors and in quality.

Farley Hall

Steve Vassallo is a HottyToddy.com contributor. Steve writes on Ole Miss athletics, Oxford business, politics and other subjects. He is an Ole Miss grad and former radio announcer for the basketball team. Currently, Steve is a highly successful leader in the real estate business who lives in Oxford with his wife Rosie. You can contact Steve at sovassallo@gmail.com or call him at 985-852-7745.

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The post Ole Miss Musings: Dean Will Norton, Jr…. Common Sense Applied to Education appeared first on HottyToddy.com.

[apsbicepstraining]

How jog facilitated this woman change her lifestyle — and forget 70 pounds

Its astonishing how much better I appear when I fuel my mas right and exercise.

By Julie Arthur

Name : Julie Arthur Age : 26 Occupation : Industrial Hygienist Hometown: Beaufort, NC How long have you been running ? I have been running since October of 2015. What inspired you to start ? I started flowing because I wanted to lose weight and get healthier overall. I was very unhappy with the space I searched, and I decided it was finally time to do something about it. My motivation to make a change received from starting a new job and wanting to be best available I could be. At my brand-new chore, I have access to a gym, line, and a course so there was no reason not to get in shape. How often do you run ? I lead about five days per week. What is your number ? Mondays are my off period but I still make time to stretch, do yoga, and foam roll. On Tuesdays I meet with my flowing group and we do a three to five mile group run. Speedwork at the way is for WednesdaysI use a acceleration exercise intention from my Runners World publication. Thursdays I enjoy a three mile convalescence operate, and on Fridays I am completely off and I centre good nutrition so I am ready for my 10 to 20 mile long run on Saturday. On Sundays I do a slow, easy, three mile recuperation operate that is usually on treadmill.

Related: 5 Speed Workouts Every New Runner Should Try

Do you race? If so, how often, and what kind of hastens ? Yes, I try to do about one race per month. I do 5Ks and 10 Ks predominantly, but Im currently training for my first half marathon on March 4 and my first full marathon in November 2017. Do you engage in other plays or works? If so, what and how often ? I play on an adult league slow pitch softball team in the spring and the autumn, a beach volleyball conference during the summer, and young adults kickball league in the fall. Whats the most rewarding part of guiding for you ? There are so many. Some of my favorite the advantage of ranging are constructing strong friendships with my moving radical, discovering the results of my speedwork show up on my long haul when I get faster, and realizing my mas change as I become more of canadian athletes. I likewise love the way I find after a operate and my increased overall gaiety from being healthy and exercising. I cherish having a few hours of is high time to myself on a long run, and getting to explore different orbits. In all, everything about extending is honoring to me.

Related: 4 Style to Experience Long Runs

Please describe your weight loss journey, including your before and after weights . Before I started ranging and eating well, I was 205 pounds. While I was in grad school, my friends and I went out each night booze, stood out until the bars shut, and then went to Taco Bell before going home. I rarely cooked at home and often eat out. Ogling back at what I ate then reaches me realise just how unhealthy I was. I would cook a casket of Kraft macaroni and cheese and snack the entire box or ingest an entire frozen pizza and cleanse everything there is down with Dr. Pepper, and then go to Cookout or Taco Bell latergross. I assembled Weight Watchers in July of 2013 and now I weigh 133.5 pounds and Ive been able to keep it off by employing and continuing my healthy eating. What is the secret to your weight loss success ? Weight Watchers applied me on the right track and learn me how to acquire healthier alternatives, but I was eventually determined and motivated to lose the load and get healthier for me. The backing from my family and pals was also very important in this process. They understood that I was trying to be healthier and were very accommodating. How do you stay motivated ? The space I detect when Im exercising and eating well is enough to keep me motivated. Its amazing how much better I feel when I fuel my organization right and effort. My extending group also continues me motivated and they push me to be best available runner I can be. Looking back at my before and after photos motivates me to keep pushing to be the best form of myself. Do you have any favorite motivational paraphrases ? Whether you think you can or you think you cant, youre claim. Henry Ford Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work youve already done. Newt Gingrich What are your current short and long term aims ? My current short term goals are to run a half marathon in under two hours and a full marathon in under 4:15. My long-term purpose is to keep the weight off and continue to increase my overall fitness and to stimulate as numerous parties as I can throughout the process. Is there anything else youd like to tell us ? I lately started a blog at iwasjustrundering.com where I tell my weight loss story and post weekly modernizes. ** *

We want to hear how guiding changed you! Transport your storey and defer your photos to us via this web form . Well pick one each Tuesday to highlight on the locate

This article originally emerged on RunnersWorld.com .

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