#it’s the last saturday of the easter holidays so my town will be full of tourists running about wild and i’m liable to not be able to move

[fingertipsmp3]

The only problem with doing exercise is that I’m now hungry ALL the time

[allscalliepsds]

RP GUIDE: TIPS FOR WRITING ITALIANS CHARACTERS!

So, from one Italian roleplayer, check this list for creating credible Italians fictional characters. I don’t know if you’re ever gonna read this post, but let’s try. Aaaand, if it works maybe one day I’ll do a list of italian faceclaims, or italian names and surnames. (Obviously, I’m not used to writing in english. Ignore my mistakes, lol)

• We have very different features. We’re not all tanned, with brown eyes and brown hair. My best friend is pale as hell and blonde like a freaking scandinavian. So we have lighter skin, darker skin, we’re tall, very short, redheads. And we have different cultures here! You can use asian faceclaims, black faceclaims, tunisian faceclaims... your character can have any kind of origin and still have the italian citienzship.

• Food is important. And by saying this I do not only mean that things like pineapple pizza or carbonara with pancetta are unacceptable! I mean that we EAT together. Most of Italians families have lunch together daily, same happens for dinner. Eating means spending time with family and friends. On sundays a lot of families reunite and have lunch with other relatives like grandparents or uncles, without even being on holiday time. We do not need Christmas or Easter to have lunch with relatives. Talking more about food: every place has its own speciliaties, so look for them when creating a character.

• Talking about food, WE DO NOT SHARE PIZZAAAA! Okay, maybe we do, sometimes, but it’s different. I’ve seen a lot of American tv shows or movies where they order just one pizza for four family members. Like, what?? Here in Italy most of the times we have one pizza per person. Because Italian pizza is obviously better and lighter, so you don’t get your belly full just by eating two slices unless you’re 5 y/o.

• We might be spending a lot of time complaining about our country and what doesn’t work, but in reality we are very proud and sometimes a lot patriotic. You know what really gets me super mad? Scrolling tik tok and seeing Americans that call themselves ITALIANS just because their grandma’s uncle was from Salento. No the hell no, that’s not how it works. You’re not Italian you cunt. 

• We’re a little bit a cliché, I gotta give you that. Sometimes more than a little bit. When quarantine/lockdown started here in Italy it was sooo hard finding flour and baking powder at the supermarket. And it’s not just a Super Mario thing: we do actually say mamma mia! But we’re not all the same. Please do not consider always the same kind of relatives: conservative religious parents with that grandma that always cooks a lot of stuff and blablabla. Think out of the box!

• Talking about grandmas: if you wanna follow that cliché of the Italian grandma that cooks and makes you eat until you pass out, it’s fine. You can do this. One of my grandma is like this and even though we have lunch in like four people she’s still gonna cook for an entire army. But if you don’t wanna do that, then don’t. My other grandma does not know how to cook and so she doesn’t that much. It’s fine, no one’s gonna revoke your character’s Italian citizenship if you don’t stick to those basic clichés we’re tired of.

• Please, look for a map. Not every Italian lives by the sea, it isn’t always sunny and hot and you don’t always feel in the right mood for a gelato. The northern part of Italy is colder and there aren’t as much bathing areas. Even if your characters lives or is from Sicily ( which is where I’m from ), it isn’t sure that he’s gonna have the beach next to his house. I’m a lucky person, in jenuary from my balcony I can see the sea on my right and the vulcano Etna covered by snow on my left. But it depends, so choose a city and look for it.

• We have dialects. So, let me try to be clear. Italy is a country divided into 20 regions, okay? Sicily is a region of Italy, Lazio ( where Rome is, to be clear ) is another Italian region. The official language is obviously Italian. So since I’m from Sicily, with a girl from Lazio/Rome I’m gonna speak Italian. But, inside the regions, there are dialects. Since I’m sicilian my dialect is called siciliano, and it’s influenced from all the past invasions. Sicily was conquered by arabs, and arabs also conquered Spain which is why some words in siciliano are similar to spanish words. Even though we have dialects we can understand each other pretty well. Southern dialects are all pretty similar, for example. But I gotta be honest, I don’t understand a single words in northern dialects. If you wanna stick to that grandma cliché I mentioned before, then add the dialect to it. Grandparents speak dialects. Generally speaking, old people speak dialects way more than the younger ones. Unfortunately it’s a culture that is starting to disappear.

• Please, dress properly. You’re never gonna see a true Italian walk out of his own house in his pajamas and with slippers, that only happens in nightmares. We’re classy. And by saying this I do not mean that we dress Dolce&Gabbana and Gucci. We don’t. I mean, rich people do, they’re lucky enough. So you do not need to mention important and expensive brands. We’re not all rich. Or at least I’m not as I wish. Last thing: it’s VersacE, not Versaci.

• Italy is (unfortunately) a pretty religious country. You know, we have the Vatican here. The most common religion here is Christianity. Not everyone practise it, and not everyone goes at the Church every sunday. 

• ROME AND MILAN AREN’T THE ONLY TWO ITALIAN CITIEESSS! I know, they’re the most known, Rome is beautiful and in Milan there’s the fashion week, I get that. But Italy is full of beautiful places. Maybe you don’t wanna choose unknown little towns with less then 3.000 habitants, but be original.

• There isn’t a large representation of Italy outside our country, so you might know very few of how we live here and what our habits are. Let me do just a small list of things:

- At 18 years old you are old enough to take your driving license, your car, and to drink. Obviously do not do everything together, lol. But you can buy alcool at 18 and go to the clubs.

- We kiss. If you’re my friend I’m gonna give you two kisses on the cheeks to say hi and to say goodbye. Even if you’re not my friend but you are with my friends, I’ll do that to be polite. And sometimes It can be pretty boring, but If I’m leaving a room with 12 people I (more or less) know I’m gonna kiss all of those 12 people.

- We have school from monday to saturday, mostly from 8 am to 13 pm. So we do not spend the afternoons at school like Americans do, and we do not have all those extracurricular activities and sports.

- We do not use snapchat anymore, while I know that it’s still a thing somewhere else. And for texting we mostly use Whatsapp and Telegram. Not iMessage because not everyone has an iPhone (they cost a little bit more, here), and neither we use Messanger that much.

- We do study a lot of art, history and literature. They’re not optional subjects. And we really praise our artistic patrimony. You can’t live here and study in Italy and then don’t know how to recognize a piece of art of DaVinci, Michelangelo, Botticelli or Caravaggio. If you’re Italian you know who Dante is and that he wrote The Divine Comedy.

- I don’t know how it is in the rest of the world, but when we go out (like, at night??) we have this thing of going downtown. So you can go to a restaurant with your friends for dinner or you can go out after dinner and just meet your friends at a square, grab a beer at the nearest bar and sit on a bench or on the stairs of something that faces that square and even stay there all night. It might sound strange, but that’s how it works and in towns where there are a lot of young people or university students those squares and those bars next to them are always full of people. Here’s an example.

[alias-b]

angel cake.

Summary: Former enemies, now friends and maybe lovers, Billy Hargrove and Evie Fenny start teasing in a church confessional. Things take a turn for the heated when Billy's imagination gets away from him. ~Also posted on my AO3

Billy/plus size!OC. Fucking in a confessional. Sin. Filth. Thanks for reading. Weird to write them romantically bc the start of the fic is Rough. They have work to do. Billy Being Nasty In Church. Teaser at later stuff for my new enemies to friends to lovers Billy/OC Fic, Sins of My Youth, that I want to start posting. XOXO.

Billy Hargrove x Evie Fenny

angel cake. 🍰

   “You really have to go to this thing?” Billy’s Camaro roared into a church parking lot. Looked out of place there. Multicolored tulips swept against the spring wind, too pleasant before the fender.

   “Told mom I’d help out. I’m not staying for the festivities, they just need extra hands setting up the food and Easter egg hunt.” Aviators flashed at Evie in the passenger seat.

   Billy with his arm propped in the window. Denim jacket and white button down tucked into tight jeans. Cigarette dangling out his lips. Exceptionally pretty, even against all the pastel flowers and banners set for the holiday. 

   “What a good daughter. Santa ought to put you on the nice list for sure.” He plucked the smoke out to exhale as she brought the car mirror down.

   “Hell, I forgot I had red on today.You have napkins in here?” She opened the glove box to sift through papers. Billy extended his arm.

   “Use the jacket, give me something messy to remember you by.” A wink followed before she took his wrist and smacked a ruby kiss into his forearm, printing the light wash. Eyes flicked as some of the red lipstick got swiped away, leaving a more pink tint behind.

   “Thanks, I guess.”

   “Red is the devil’s color,  Evangeline.” Came some mocking in a horrid southern accent. She scoffed with her eyes elsewhere.

   “You could always come help if you’re going to pout.” She dug around her purse.

   “Not pouting. Churches and I don’t mix. It’s the one thing dad and I agree on.” Billy pulled his shades down and folded them into his front pocket with the cigarettes. 

   “Well, pick me up in an hour, we’ll go catch something scary and sinful.” She applied chapstick and rubbed her lips together.

   “Sinful? I like that.” Billy’s fingers squeezed her thigh, hot on skin and just barely under the little black suspender skirt. Evie wore a brightly colored tee with sunflowers all over it. Her usual green bomber jacket covered in patches. “That new?”

   “The chapstick? No, it’s tinted and smells like watermelon though.”

   “Let me try.” Billy saw her offer the tube and instead pulled her in by the collar for a kiss. Mashing their lips together. He flicked his tongue out for good measure and heard her gasp against his ferocity. It still managed to catch her off guard. A light smack when he parted, tonguing his bottom lip. “Mm, tastes like watermelon too.”

   “Billy, there are people over there.” She pushed his wandering hand out of her skirt.

   “I’d like to see Jesus himself come out and...what the fuck is that?” Billy’s finger lifted so Evie followed it to see the Easter Bunny leaving a lone side door. Lavender fur with white tufts, huge goofy grin.

   “Yeah, they have someone dress up every year for when the kids arrive, which is in about sixty minutes, so I gotta go.” Evie had Billy’s wrist again to check the time. Pecked his cheek and shifting before he about howled. “What?” Her body jumped at the sound.

   “No fucking way!” Billy was scrambling out because the bunny head had come off so a quick smoke could be snuck around back. “No way! Hey, Harrington! That you, amigo? What’s up, doc?” 

   Steve spun on his heel, holding a cigarette in one hand and the bunny head under his other arm. His head fell back with a groan because Billy was leaning up against his chair, bent over to belly laugh.

   “Hargrove?” Steve looked mortified, but played tough. “Are they really letting you within five feet of a church?” Billy was too busy cackling to retort. Fist clenched and head resting upon his arm on the Camaro.

   “The fucking tail.” Billy wasn’t stopping so Evie crossed her arms.

   “What happened to Gary?” Evie approached Steve, head cocking. “Ignore Billy.”

   “I try to… And food poisoning. I dropped Dustin off at home yesterday to help Claudia out and she begged me last minute. I’m getting fifteen bucks for it though. Not bad for the Saturday before Easter.” He flashed a half smile. “Suit kinda smells like potpourri, I-...Is he gonna stop or what?” 

   “He’ll tucker himself out eventually.” Evie turned her head to see Billy unable to get air. “Billy, take a breath already before you pass out!” A huge gulp followed. More wild laughter. “Jeez.”

   “I’m never gonna live this down, shit.” Steve mumbled around his smoke, flicking it. “Asshole.”

   “Might want to get back in, Pastor will have a cow if he catches you smoking in the suit.” Evie took the head to help Steve back into it.

   “See you, Hargrove. Remember to breathe, dick.” The bunny snuck back in the side door. Another round of laughs at the sight of the puffy tail.

   “I wanna kick his ass so bad. You don’t understand.” Billy stretched out, eyes watering and cheeks blushed. Freckles glowing.

   “You short circuiting still?” Evie peered down at her boots.

   “I don’t know what Easter is about, but that...was the best shit I’ve ever seen.” Billy snickered like a little boy with his hand in the cookie jar. Evie only rolled her eyes.

   “New beginnings, Billy.” Heels clicked up behind them so Billy straightened quick to get his composure.

   “Hey, mom.” Evie leaned out from behind the boy.

   Mona Fenny appeared from the main doors, her arms full of bags. Brightly colored plastic eggs packed with treats about to spill out. Hair pumped, unable to move, with a short 60s sheath dress clinging to her body. Yellow and orange print. Something that was definitely noted by the men around. Single and ready at all times. Evie felt her cheeks heat at her mother.

   “New beginnings, Miss Mona?” Billy repeated, one hand sliding into his jean pocket.

   “That’s what I always thought, sugar.” That southern twang thick beyond all reach.

   Billy always liked to poke fun at Evie, she had the slightest Louisiana touch to her voice that came out when she was in a more fiery disposition. She swore it wasn’t true.

   “Evie, they’re trying to get the dessert table set up. I didn’t realize Billy was joining us.” Mona continued.

   “Oh, I-”

   “You know, Billy was actually telling me he’s never been to a real Easter gathering before. Not a church event.” Evie’s sly smile crossed and he shot her a look. “I’m sure those big, strong arms you got would really help out setting up.” Evie came to him and gave his bicep a pat.

   “That’s lovely, Billy. You know the kids just love this event, fun in the sun and more food than you’ll ever eat. Go on inside, you two. We have decorations to get going.” Mona clicked away, peppy in stride.

   “I had a hair appointment.” Billy hissed through his teeth when Evie’s mother was gone.

   “You want to tell my mother that you’re going to get your hair done somewhere that isn’t her salon?” Evie’s lips pressed. Billy’s face scrunched because she had him there. “I panicked, the people here are too much. Please stay.”

   “Your mom never turns her volume down, does she? Looking more like a brunette Sharon Tate than a Dolly Parton.” Billy locked his car, stuffing the scorpion keychain into his pocket.

   “Been like that since dad left, she’s...on the market. Trying to feel good. People notice and they say some not great stuff. She went from dressing like a nun to a model overnight.” Evie was holding her arms close to her chest still, making this unconscious patting motion Billy always noted like she was trying to console herself.

   “Really bugs you, what people think.”

   “It’s a small town, it bugs everyone.” Evie turned, skirt flitting while her curls bounced. “Don’t like all these guys ogling my mom.”

   Doesn’t like that one might replace her dad. Evie peered back at Billy, lips pushed up to appear brighter. He decided he wanted to see her happier without force.

   “I’ll stick around. You owe me.” Steps followed. One hand gave her bottom a firm pat.

   “You know, the Easter Bunny has to do a dance before the festivities begin?” She whispered then. “It’s tradition.”

   Billy perked up like a dog.

   “Right, so, decorations?” He waltzed ahead with a giggling girl in tow. Spotted the moms passing boxes off. All stilling to see him there. Wind sweeping his blond locks like a beefcake out of a romance novel. Shirt open with his saint chain glinting upon his tanned chest. “Ladies.”

   “Hi, Billy.” Came the chorus.

   He ate that up a little. 

   Sunlight was barely felt through the spring breeze. Balloons and streamers glowed every direction. Twisted around Evie’s manicured fingers as she passed them up to Billy to be tied around the banner.

   “Feel like I might float away here.” The wind swept up her unruly curls as she smiled below when Billy peered to see her. Pink and violet balloons. Yellow streamers. She looked like a piece of decadent candy there. “What?”

   Billy snapped out of it.

   “Why do I have to be on the ladder?” He snatched another bundle of strings from her to tie them up.

   “I wore a skirt so I wouldn’t have to be.” Came the cheeky reply. Hawkins residents hurried all over to set up the grassy field.

   “Let’s switch. Although, the view here ain’t half bad. I can totally see down your shirt.” His tongue swept over eager lips as eyes lowered to her breasts. Brows furrowed to glare at him. It was striking how cute she was, even angry. High, apple cheeks and pillowy lips. The sun brought some gold into lush, dark curls. 

   “Jerk.” An arm hanging with streamers covered her chest. “We’re standing next to a church. Behave yourself, you’re fixing to get smited.”

   “God’s got bigger problems than me.” He shrugged, caught his tongue in teeth. Smirked. “Fixin’ to. Your Louisiana is showing.”

   “Shut it, I got too much family down there still. Sometimes it jumps out. I don’t have an accent.”

   “You so do. Just saying it’s cute.” He caught her cheeks flooding all strawberries and cream.

   “Hey, I have to keep my clinically unapproachable ice queen reputation. You’re not helping.”

   “Damn cute then.” Billy’s head cocked. A wink of those sinfully, long lashes. “Hand me another one.”

   Evie’s hand came to his to offer a new bundle of balloons.

   Green grass swept about as parents worked to hide eggs all over and a full spread of picnic food was set out on blue gingham tables. Kids started to pile in so Billy decided it was time to hide around the building after snagging the biggest piece of apple pie he could. Alone, they watched the crowds play beyond a row of vibrant tulips.

   “One fork?” Evie leaned up against the wall.

   “You had my tongue in your mouth this morning, don’t complain about sharing a fork.”

   “Fair enough.” She let him feed her a bite. “That wasn’t so bad, time flew. You want to jet?” A bouncy tune played as Billy craned his neck around the corner after a huge bit of pie. Evie followed his line of sight.

   “Easter is my new favorite holiday.” He let Evie snag the fork to finish off the slice, tossing the plate into the trash. Genuine laughter as Steve Harrington did a jig in his costume across the open field. Billy’s arm slid over Evie’s shoulders. “You think I can pay one of these kids to kick bunny in the nuts?”

   “We’re leaving… Before you traumatize some child.” She tugged at his wrist to sneak in a side door. “Left my coat and purse over here.”

   Absolutely empty and dim save for the morning sun spilling into stained glass. They passed rows of pews to the tables covered in empty boxes. Evie went for her purse and realized she already lost Billy, curiously rooting around.

   “Hey, don’t touch that.”

   “They actually have one of these things? I thought movies made this shit up.” Billy poked his head around the little confessional booth. Hardwood and sleek to touch. Ornate and out of place against bright blue wallpaper. Two doors on either side. “So, everyone’s planning on staying outside right? Should be entertained a few hours, hm.”

   He went in and a lock clicked.

   “Billy, hey.” Evie felt the urge to keep her voice low. “Get out of there. They actually don’t really use this thing anymore.”

   “Doesn’t get use, eh? Too bad.” His snicker was muffled. “Get in the other side, Angel, confess your sins.”

   “I’ll confess that I think the nickname is still silly.” She wiggled the handle and poked her head into the opposite side. Saw Billy’s pretty silhouette through the tiny mesh window. Both sides were cramped like an airplane bathroom.

   “Roomier than I thought.”

   “Some of us have hips here.” Evie huffed at him, the door shut while she slid inside. “Kinda creepy actually, let’s go.”

   “You gotta confess first, it’s the rule.” His wild curls flicked so she plopped into the wooden bench.

   “This is not even sexy, I feel like I’m about to be murdered here.” She pressed her hands on either wall.

   “Better confess quick in that case,” Billy leaned in, she saw his lashes flutter, “what color are your panties today?”

   “Billy.” She covered the mesh with one hand.

   “Do they match the bra?” He continued, voice lowering.

   “I’m not doing this.” Evie lifted her skirt and shifted a lacy pair of shorts aside to see. Billy’s breath drew heavier. “What’s it matter if they match?”

   “If they match, you walked into this church thinking you’d be getting some later.” He said that far too matter-a-factually. “Sinner. What color? Describe them exactly.”

   “You’re being gross.” She knew he heard the band of her little biker shorts snap. Caved. “Purple. Like a lilac.”

   “Cotton?”

   “...Satin.”

   A lengthy hum from Billy at that.

   “And the bra. I’m assuming the same.” He already heard Evie shuffling to check.

   “Ah, shit.” She let her shirt go and he chuckled. “I didn’t even plan that. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

   “Your subconscious knew, Angel. No denying it.” Billy propped his arm up.

   “Okay, what do you have on?” The challenge was easily met.

   “Nothing under the jeans, currently. You should try it.”

   “In a skirt? Without my little shorts? My thighs would rub, I’d be miserable.” Came a whine.

   “I’d massage your poor thighs, maybe blow the hot skin to cool it off if you like.” His suggestion wasn’t helpful. “Spread them and rub some ice to make you feel better. Few kisses all the way up.” That damn low baritone lingered upon the syllables like he might lick them. Evie gave a silent snort out her nose. “You’d probably squirm a little bit like you are now.”

   “I am not squirming.” Evie’s chest lifted, eyes turned to Billy’s outline.

   “Now, Angel, you can’t tell lies in here. The sins are just piling up for you today.” Billy peered around, couldn’t see much in here. Spotted her lips parting, but sound came out. “Betcha, you’re already soaked through those satin, lilac panties.” His purring was met with hard silence before a forcibly huff.

   “Billy...quit it.” She bit her lip this time sounding like she’d smiled. Billy spotted her cheeks lifting, full and blushed all pretty he figured.

   “I’ll confess, it took every ounce of fight in me to get you here on time. Lot of places in this town to stop and...park at for a bit. The one charming thing I discovered about this place.”

   “How sunny side up of you.” She hummed.

   “You would have let me have it because we would have parked for awhile. You’d be late. Probably left your wrecked panties in the backseat and walked around here with fireworks still going off under your skin. We both know it.” 

   “Probably wouldn’t have made it here at all.” Her slow reply was uttered and Billy grinned.

   “See, I behaved.” He got closer to the window. “Confess, Evie.”

   “Confess that you’re a total horn dog.” She drew in to meet him.

   “Confess what you want me to do to you in there.” Billy murmured. She blew a curl out her face at that. “I got it, I want you to be my first.” He’d offered that with huge, glittering eyes she’d caught the glint of. Eyebrows jumped.

   “What? Literally yesterday, we-”

   “I never fucked in a church before.” He got her eyes rolling hard, almost to the back of her skull.

   “Jesus Christ, Billy.” She covered the mesh again, heard him laughing on the other side.

   “Not the name you need to be moaning right now.” Billy smacked the window closed and came out. 

   “Finally, we can go-” Evie had the door open. Still blushing. Chest puffed. 

   Billy appeared from smoke, had his hands on either side before he pushed in. Catching her lips on the way until the door could shut behind them. Cupping Evie’s face so she pressed into the wall. Back of her legs hit the bench and managed to not buckle. Palms felt around the hardwood for something to grab for until fingers bunched up Billy’s jacket.

   She broke for air. Gulped on it before his tongue was back into her mouth.

   “We should…” Lips swelled with kisses. “Go to the car.”

   “Will you make that walk? I know I won’t.” Came the hushed reply. “We could cross something big off the bucket list.” Persuasive lips were already working on her neck, teeth tugged her ear and grazed back down. Billy got a handful of her tits and hummed.

   “Not...Not sure it’s on my bucket list.” She just held onto him. Knees wobbling as Billy massaged through the bra.

   “I’d add it now while you have time.” He pecked her throat. Felt the pulse under tender skin racing. “Confess.” It was a sinful purr. Evie’s head tipped back. Lungs starting to sputter. Billy made her heart a pile of volcanic mush.

   “What if someone comes in?” She let him tuck her curls aside. Lips on her cheeks and jaw. Finding her mouth again. Tasting sweet sugar from the apple pie they shared.

   “We’ll just have to keep it down and pray the party is entertaining enough to keep people outside.” He mumbled, coming out to pull the shirt from her skirt up over the pretty bra she had on. 

   Hands pulled her suspenders forth until Evie molded into him. Kissed back with the same fierce vigor he gave. Felt the chain around his neck while her fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt, four buttons already undone.

   The hard lines of his body sweltered with fire. Whatever resolve she might have had melted away completely. 

   Evie liked how he always cupped her face to look at her features close between steaming kisses. Fingers trailed to work her bra down just enough for her to spill into his touch. Into his mouth. Bruising suckles. Teeth edging across silken skin. Tongue swirling one dark, rosy nipple than the other as she tried to quiet herself and ran fingers into his gold mane. A hiss and Billy’s eyes lifted. Evie’s head was turned aside, teeth in her bottom lip. Eyes shut.

   “Cute when you try to hold it together.” Cool breath against her hard, wet nipple sent a vibration down her spine. Billy licked up her chest to inhale that amber perfume, a floral scent with a touch of vanilla from her lotion. Smelled lush to match him. She pushed his face back into her cleavage, partly to quiet him because he was too cocky.

   Chuckling and breathless, Billy came up to tease her lips. Twisting her nipples just so to elicit a sigh. Low and even, Billy ran his finger over her mouth.

   “Just confess, Angel, it’ll feel so fucking good when you do.” He caught her bottom lip and let it go.

   “Promise?” Evie’s lips parted involuntarily at his touch, let his finger stroke her tongue and slip out. 

   “I promise.” That same hand already hiked her skirt to tug at shorts until they came down. His finger inched under the waistband of her panties, teasing sensitive skin. She pressed into his body, vibrating for more. Swaying. Arms snug around his shoulders to stay upright.

   A shameless sound when her lips collided with his. Thigh hitching around his hips in a needy motion. Not shy about what she desired for one beat because he knew how to coax that side of her out. Billy teased lighter kisses, let his deft fingers dance along her inner thigh. Evie was stubborn and she knew what he wanted. 

  Confession.

   A growl rippled out her tense vocal cords. Trying to reel sound in despite Billy’s inherent ability to make her see new sparks of vivid neon colors here in pure darkness.

   “Okay…” She panted, pulling for him until their foreheads touched. “Okay.” A drunken moment where eyes could close. One beat of peace in obscenity. His free arm tightened around the small of her back so they were flush together. Perfect fit. Every curve to her body sloped easily into him. An almost Biblical fate because of how good they felt together. Evie parted her mouth to ghost it over his. “I sinned.”

   “Yeah?” Billy’s palm inched up to reward her sighs. A smirk crossed. “How’s that?”

   “Because I was hoping you’d pull over on the way here. Would have seen the new underwear in a better light. And I squirmed the whole way. Your loss.” All that cheeky strength simmered down when fingers pushed between thick thighs. Wet satin fabric slipped deliberately against her and Billy moaned at the mere feel. Rock hard.

   “Fuck, you’re soaked, Angel.” His tone thickened.

   Evie wasn’t able to articulate. Face in his chest with her needy fingers tight on his jacket. She played her demure self again. Billy felt her legs tremor, nudged them further apart with his boot.

   “All for me? I wouldn’t call it a loss. You gotta hold yourself up a bit longer, open that mouth again.” He gave her two slick fingers to suck so he could kiss down her tits some more. Plucked and nipped at every sensitive part of her body. “Fucking god damn it, I might give religion a shot after this.”

   “Yeah?” Evie licked the pads as Billy slunk down to marvel. Thought about taking her skirt off, but he decided he liked the way the straps framed her breasts partially spilling out of the bra.

   One hand forced her thigh up until her foot hit the bench. Evie was curved back into the wall, holding the side frame and gripping Billy’s shoulder.

   “Long as I get to go where you’re going, I don’t give a shit about anything else.” A chuckle warmed her leg as he pushed her skirt up out of the way.

   “That sounded oddly sentimental.”

   “Maybe I’ll bring you down to my level instead. Sinner.” Billy’s mouth placed one open kiss against her wet panties. Tongue following the hard swell of her bud. She decided she’d let him there in darkness. Every muscle in Evie’s body jumped at full attention. His divine and equally wicked mouth hummed blissfully. She craned to dig teeth into her own arm. Fists clenching.

   Billy maneuvered her leg over to get the ruined fabric down. Tucked them into his coat pocket and she figured she wouldn’t be seeing them again. Kneeling, Billy scooted closer and pushed her thigh back up, baring her to his mouth. 

   A cry hitched, snuffing out immediately as he tasted her. Filthy, open mouth kisses until her fingers tangled into his hair. Pulled. Billy moaned into her folds. Squeezed her thighs and loved the feel of them. God, he really couldn’t get enough of this girl. Every whine she let him have. Every nerve that wanted him. Needed him to ease the frays and sizzling. He just couldn’t get enough and was fine with following her into the dark.

   “Don’t stop.” Evie whispered. Hair falling into her face while her breasts rose and fell. She licked her lips and savored him.

   The dirty sounds he made against her that barely carried outside the booth. Billy squeezed her breast once he was certain she could stay up so she covered his hand. Craned to suck fingers. A gasp left. Evie’s hips rolled into his mouth. Asking for even more until two fingers pushed inside. 

   Billy moaned when her walls clamped. Pumped through the resistance to massage her nice and deep. Evie was quivering there. Using both arms on the sides to stay up. Shameless working into him now. Billy made a vaguely amused sound and gave an obscene pop around her clit, leaning out with arousal slicking his pink lips. It was music, the sounds her body let flow into crisp air.

   “Damn, no wonder you don’t go here anymore. Fucking yourself so hard and pretty on my fingers like this. You couldn’t make the nice list if you paid.” Being eye level with the sight had his cock twitching almost painfully. Evie’s head was tossed back. Clearly getting herself closer so Billy pulled away. Silenced her whine with a kiss. Let her suck and nip at his bottom lip. “See how fucking good you taste?”

   Evie’s hands were opening his belt. Quick and eager. Billy hitched as one palm slipped in, fingers ghosting trimmed blond hair to ease him out of the denim.

   “Confess, Evie, how bad you want me to fuck you right here.” He spoke as if he still had the upper hand.

   “Bet you I can do it without words.” Evie had his hips, guiding Billy to switch so he could sit. The question died and buried itself the second she sank down to lick precum pooling at his tip. Billy’s hips thrust up, eyes heavy and hooded.

   “That bad?” He shuddered, legs opening so she could lean into him. Evie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt to kiss the steel muscles. Twitching and molten. Nails scraped his skin. Stopped to stroke him idly. Kissing his abdomen, thighs, and tip. Evie traced the lines of vein and muscle. Down his shaft and back up his chest. So many sharp angles to explore.

   Little butterfly kisses while she leaned in until his cock slipped snug between her breasts. Spit slick and beading clear arousal. Billy moaned at the sight and gave a rut as she noticed and started to come out. 

   Hands latched to her shoulders. Billy hummed and rolled her nipple. Felt the weight of her tits and pushed them to squeeze his shaft. Idle fingers stilled to tuck her hair back in a way that was almost tender.

   “You’re pretty like this,” he said thoughtfully, “you’re pretty every which way.” Teeth tugged at her bottom lip. A shy kiss followed. Sometimes, he got so bold, she sank. Learned to savor it. Billy whispered against her. “Have I ever told you my cock looks great between your tits like that?” Frankly, he’d be happy to get off rubbing between her breasts or thighs alone. Fingers digging into supple skin. Evie had become a drug to him. Vanilla and amber immersed him in a high.

   “The occasion hasn’t really crossed.”

   “I’ll have to fix that next time I can lie you down.” Billy let her stroke him again and come up. Hesitating so he had to encourage her. “Get in my lap.” He was already pulling her into him. Smoothing hair back sweetly for lingering kisses.

   She long stopped worrying about feeling too heavy for him. Billy threw her around a mattress like it was nothing. Spread her legs, bent them up how he liked. Marveled at her flexibility. Kissed her obscenely and told her how pretty and blushed she looked. She liked when he was ample with her body. The boy certainly lifted enough weights, a fuller girl with hips was nothing to that. Jeans shifted lower as she straddled him. A kiss before she sank down.

   Billy moaned. A low honeyed sound into her ear. Almost musical. Arms wrapped tighter. Evie thanked God for birth control and moved at his coaxing.

   “C’mon, fuck me. I want it.” Billy kissed her fiercely. Nipples. Collar. Throat. Jawline. Mouth. And each time, he felt that same thrill rush his bones. A palm smacked her ass, squeezed it. Got drunk off the pulsing and little whines she gave him as if they were gift wrapped. “Confession. I want pictures of you. Spread out with my cock in you every way you like. They won’t beat the real thing, but fuck, I can’t...stop with you. Don’t want to.”

   Billy looked vulnerable when he moaned so pretty.

   His knuckles traced the curve of her cheekbone. Evie bounced, gripped his shoulders to stay upright with her spine curving. Unable to respond to something so passionate. Billy had that mode on him, sometimes it came out in odd ways. Filthy words to match his obscene way of caressing and worship. His manner of making Evie feel bold and sexy. Cute. Pretty. Fierce. Desired. The fact that sometimes he’d lie still for once and seek out her fingers across his curls and her lips on his cheek.

   Evie Fenny was a drug and cure to him, all at once. She gave back. Made Billy feel full and light. Made him feel present. Like he could shed his fangs. Lie back and feel the sun on his skin.

   “Confession,” Evie said between quick kisses with her thumb tracing the edge of his jaw, “I want more of you too. After....”

   “After?” He scoffed. “Like tonight?”

   “Just… After.” She slowed to rock into him. Deep thrusts that made them both moan in sync. So close. “After what’s next for us. Life. High school. Whatever. I want you to be apart of my after.”

   He could blame the sex for short circuiting her brain, he’d given it to her pretty hard.

   “I don’t know what I’m saying.” She rubbed her eyes, laughed because it felt silly. Felt Billy swoop in to kiss her. Wordlessly validating it wasn’t silly at all. That was another thing they did, pumped life into hopeful hearts and dwindling thoughts of something more. Something that was waiting...after.

   “We’ll deal with the after.” Billy skimmed a hand between them. Stroked her until she gave a cry into the denim of his jacket. A beautiful note. Evie thought she heard the twinkling music from outside, joyful and airy. Realized that maybe it was just playing in her head. “Right now, I want you to come.” He pecked her parted lips. “Cum for me, Angel.”

  “Billy.” She found his mouth again. They shared a godly nectar in one kiss. He worked her hips into his as she climaxed. Lungs heaving with a great arch. Billy watched her tits bounce and found his own release quick. Let her slip into him as he fell back to the wall. Lungs tried to find some peace. That New Orleans accent laced her tone again. “God damn it, Billy.”

   “Still a church, Fenny.” He massaged her thighs. Eyes shifting while she breathed even and fixed her bra. Tucked her shirt back in.

  “I need a bathroom. This is about to be a mess.” She slipped off him, pulled her undershorts back on because he wasn’t giving her panties up. Thighs hummed, sore and blissful. Billy tucked himself away to fix his own clothing back. Evie poked her head out. “Coast is clear.”

  Without thinking, she laced her hand in his. Hurried him out to the bathroom to pee and wash up. Saw her patchy, red cheeks in the mirror and huffed. Patted cold water on them. Billy finished at the sink and lit a quick cigarette by the window. That chipper music lingered outside.

  “Your mom is going to be here awhile. I vote your place.”

  “Movie on the couch.” She flicked hair aside. Billy flashed a smile, nodding as he snuffed the smoke out.

  “To start, maybe.” Two fingers grasped her chin, angled Evie’s mouth for a slow kiss. Tasted sweet, obscene, and smoky all at once. Made her dizzy.

  “I’d come back here under certain conditions.” He passed to go out with Evie behind him. She found her purse and coat again.

   “Let’s go, you had your fun.” She chuckled as they rejoined the event outside. Wind and all.

  “Uh, I think you did too.” Billy’s arm hung around her shoulder. Easy with their height difference.

  “You two leaving?” Mona had called, edging from her conversation to cross once the teens were outside. Evie pressed her legs together. Smiled. The Pastor who’d been speaking to her mother followed too. Plastic grin upon his face.

  “Ah, yeah, I’ll see you later, mom.” Evie had replied.

  “Thanks for coming to help.” Mona beamed. “Pastor Ray, you know Billy. Our neighbor. He was kind enough to help out.”

  “Mr. Hargrove. I’m surprised to see you here.” They shook tense hands.

  “Only thing I like more than Jesus is Christ. Who doesn’t want to turn water into wine.” Billy’s sarcasm was almost charming. He got a flat look in return.

  “I see...”

  “Evie, can you take some of the food home, honey? We’ll feed the neighbors.” Mona grasped Evie’s arm to pull her forth. “Just put it in the fridge. I’ll organize later.”

  “Sure.” Evie started to follow.

  “Be sure to grab the cherry pie if there’s any left. The ladies outdid themselves this year. Billy, you’re free to take some food home, son.” The Pastor addressed him kindly again. Billy’s grin flashed shiny teeth.

  “I love a good cherry pie, but I filled up on angel cake.”

  He caught Evie’s head whipping toward him as she went. Eyes ablaze which made his smile bigger.

  “Oh?” Ray’s head cocked. “I didn’t see that over there. Must have went fast.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe, sir.” Billy patted the man’s shoulder and sauntered by. “Nice church, by the way. Pointy.” Evie hurried to his car with her arms full of Tupperware and boxes. Settled them in the backseat.

  “You’re so dead.” She looked sweet, waving at her mother across the lot. Billy laughed, starting his car. “I pick the music.” Her hand swatted his and a groan followed as she tuned the radio to some Etta James. Billy revved out of the parking lot, turning some heads as he went.

  “Admit it, you wouldn’t change what you did today. Sinner.” Billy’s free hand found her leg out of his usual habit. “Made my first church going experience special.”

  “Don’t turn on the waterworks just yet.” She teased back, sucking her cheeks in without looking at him. “Still mad at you.” A smile pulled her forcibly grumpy expression. Billy came to a stoplight. Tugged at a curl to let it bounce so she peered at him. Nose crinkling when she broke to chuckle.

  “Admit it.” Billy gave her thigh a squeeze, vibrant eyes flickering.

  “Make me.” Evie said, facing the road. “Later.” Lips lifted before the light turned green. His Camaro lurched forward.

  “Happy to.” Billy caught the song change. “Hey.”

  “Hm?”

  “It’s that song you’re always singing to yourself.” Billy turned it up. Irma Thomas. “The mushy one.” Her favorite. He played like it was a careless thing, but Evie stared at him. Warming. Reeled in too easily.

   Anyone…

   Anyone…

  “Shocked you paid attention to that.” She offered after a beat.

  “I have to hear it every day I see you, Evie.” Billy snorted, ocean eyes intent on the road. Evie knew better. “Not like I have a choice. Singing and plucking that guitar constantly.” He peered at the trees. “That stuff you were rambling about during the sex high about after.”

   “Sex high.” She scoffed.

   “Was that the fucking making a mess of you?” Billy asked slower. “Used to hate me.”

   “I didn’t hate you,” Evie paused when he shot her an unconvinced look, “we weren’t agreeable.”

   “Agreeable? Okay, now you sound like that prissy Austen chick you like to read.” Billy’s retort made her giggle. These little details he picked up about her that stuck with him. It was true, their relationship used to be in the negative for good reason.

   “I like when we hang out.” Evie shrugged. “Labels. Whatever. I just meant, we should...keep hanging out.”

   “After?”

   “After.” Evie produced simply. Billy twitched amusement at her, turned a corner.

   “Well,” he parked, “I don’t know, good. I guess”

   “Fine.”

   “Great.” Billy cut back in, challenged.

   “Wonderful.”

   “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

   Evie grasped his jacket, shut him up with a kiss. Made the boy breathless there. Billy’s blue eyes glimmered at her. Calm seas for miles. The sun shined into his car. Made the teens glow.

   “Movie?” She unbuckled to get out with him following. “Gotta get this food into my fridge.”

   “Only if I pick.” Billy stood there and let her set boxes into his arms before she grabbed the rest so they could walk up the driveway.

   “Sure. Our tastes align.” Evie peeked back at him with doe brown eyes. “I trust you.” She’d offered that too casually, Billy stilled at the door to watch her unlock it. Blinked.

   That was the thing about them, how nonchalant their hearts beat together. A totally on purpose accident. Billy remembering Evie’s quirks and her reluctance to show certain petals sprouting from her stem for fear the world might not like the colors. Budding to flash them with some fire and vibrancy because she had a boy who encouraged them despite it all. And she teased this incandescent quality back out of him with ease. Made him work to be still and feel the world turn once in a blue moon. Billy gave this little smile to himself without her noticing and followed Evie into the house.

   They hadn’t trusted each other before. And now it was approaching the after. Whatever that meant. Evie glowed to beam at him there and few things were mattering today. New beginnings.

   Billy let himself hope that the after would last.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Layers Layer 1: The Basics

Name: Stephanie. Age: 31. Birthday: July 28th. Gender: Female. Zodiac Sign: Leo.

Layer 2: Your Family

Do you have any brothers or sisters? I have two brothers. Do you have any pets? I have a doggo. Do you still live with your parents? Yep. Do you have any stepparents? No. How many cousins do you have? Like over 50. Only two of them are from my dad’s side.

Layer 3: Your Friends

Who is your best friend? My mom. Who have you been friends with the longest? -- What do you like to do with your friends? -- Do you have more friends online or in real life? -- What is a good way to make friends with others? *shrug*

Layer 4: Your Home

Do you live in a home, apartment, duplex, trailer, etc? A duplex. How many rooms are there in your house? 2 bedrooms. Is your home large or small? It’s small. What is your favorite room in your house, and why? My room. It has my bed and all my stuff and I spend majority of my time in here. Do you prefer having people over to your house, or would you rather go to theirs? With friends I preferred going to theirs. I don’t like playing hostess.

Layer 5: Can You

Can you fold your tongue into the taco shape? Nope. Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? No, cause I’m a paraplegic. Can you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue? Nope. Can you hold up your end of a physical fight? I’ve never been in one, but I’m still going to say no. It wouldn’t go well for me. Can you do any yo-yo tricks? I haven’t played with a yo-yo since I was a kid, but I never could get the hang of any tricks. I couldn’t even get it to go back up easily.

Layer 6: Who

Who inspires you the most, and why? I haven’t felt inspired in a long time. :/ Who helps you maintain your sanity? Uhhh. Who do you go to most often for advice? I don’t ask for advice very often to be honest. Who knows you better than you know yourself? I don’t even know myself anymore. Who is someone that you would die or put your life on the line for, no questions asked? My mom and brother.

Layer 7: Do you

Do you still eat sandwiches without the crusts? Yeah. I’ve never liked the crust. Do you typically finish your meal at a restaurant, or need to take a container home? I don’t finish my meal completely ever because I get full fast and I’m such a slow eater that everyone is done for awhile and I feel bad having them wait. Depending on what it is I might take the leftovers home, but honestly I usually don’t. Do you pull an Oreo apart in order to eat it? Yep. Do you read a lot of gossip magazines? I haven’t read a magazine in several years. I used to all the time as a teenager. Do you make friends easily? I don’t have an issue getting along with people, but I don’t develop friendships with a lot of people. I don’t really try either to be honest. Especially not these past few years. I haven’t tried or wanted to make any friends.

Layer 8: How Many?

How many people live in your house with you? 3 people and a doggo. How many pets have you had in your lifetime? A couple hamsters, 4 doggos, and a fish tank full of fish. How many tries does it take you to become successful at something? Uhh. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m all that great at anything. How many meals do you eat a day? Usually just two. How many people can you honestly tolerate? Just a few people at a time.

Layer 9: How

How do you typically get to school or work? I’m done with school and I don’t have a job. How do you deal with a breakup? Not well. How do you like to help others? I used to try and help people with what I could when I could, but admittedly I haven’t been very helpful or useful to anyone, including myself. How do you know when you’ve found “the one”? I guess I don’t know because I truly thought I did with Ty, but that went nowhere. How do you sleep in bed? I sleep in the middle slightly turned to my left with my head propped up.

Layer 10: What

What do you think happens when we die? I believe in heaven and hell. What do you do if there’s no toilet paper left on the roll and you’re already peeing? At home I call for my mom and ask her to bring some or I have to just get up and get some more from the bathroom pantry. What do you eat most often? Wingstop and ramen. What toys did you enjoy most as a child? I was obsessed with Barbies. What do you do if you witness someone being awful to someone else? I don’t know what I would do.

Layer 11: Where

Where is your favorite place to eat out? I’m more of takeout gal, even pre-COVID, which now takeout is all I do, but anyway I love getting Wingstop and breakfast from this local place. Where is the place that has the best ice cream in your area? I’m not a big ice cream person and haven’t had any at all in years, but apart from the common places like Baskin Robbins and Cold Stone, I know we have a few trendy, cool ice cream places in town I haven’t been to thatI hear are really good. Where did you meet your current or last significant other? We met through a mutual friend. Where can you be found at 7 PM. typically? Here at home, most likely in bed on my laptop. Where can you find the best French fries? This local place has delicious beer battered garlic fries.

Layer 12: When

When did you find out the truth about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy? I don’t remember exactly when I found out about the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy, but I stopped believing in Santa when I was 8. I feel like I stopped believing in the other two prior to that. When do you typically fall asleep? Around 6 or 7AM. When was the last time that someone paid you a compliment? I don’t remember. When do you feel most comfortable? When I’m lounging in bed. When did you last go to the bathroom? A couple hours ago.

Layer 13: Why

Why do you enjoy taking surveys so much? I’ve enjoyed taking them for so long now it’s hard to imagine a time where I no longer do them. I mean, here I am at 31 and see no stopping in sight. I think they’re good distractions and give me a place to vent and ramble as well when needed. They’re like my diary entries. Why do people gossip so much? They’re bored and other people’s lives are either more interesting or they serve as a distraction from their own. Why can’t humans fly? We don’t have wings. Why aren’t you doing something else right now? I want to be doing this. Why is the sky blue? Cause that is the color God intended it to be.

Layer 14: If...

If you had a million dollars, what would you spend it on? I’d pay of mine, my parents’ and my brother’s debts first, then I’d buy us a bigger house and furnish/decorate it, do some other shopping, travel for sure, and then I’d have to be smart and careful and save as well after having some fun. If you found out someone was cheating on you, would you ever take them back? I honestly don’t know. It would depend on a lot of things and if I did, it would take time and work. If you found a wallet with cash in the street, including identification, would you turn it in? Why or why not? Yes, absolutely.  If you could have any food right now, what would you like?   I just had ramen so I’m good right now. If you found out that the world was going to end tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? Freaking out? ha.

Layer 15: Firsts

When did you lose your first tooth? Like 5 or 6. Who was your first teacher that you ever had? I don’t remember my preschool teacher’s name. When did you first learn how to ride a bike? I didn’t. When was the first time you had sex? I haven’t. Did your first birthday have a theme to it? I’d have to ask my mom.

Layer 16: Lasts

Last person you texted: My brother. Last drink you sipped: Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink. Last time you rode a bike: -- Last time you swam in a pool: Like 8 years ago. Last person you hugged: My aunt.

Layer 17: Favorites

Favorite Color: Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, and yellow. Favorite Season: Fall and winter. Favorite Shape: Hearts and stars. Favorite Letter: I don’t have one. Favorite Number: 8.

Layer 18: This or That

Pepsi or Coke? Coke. Movies or Television? Both. Phone or Tablet? Phone. Fruits or Vegetables? I like some of both. Animals or Humans? Animals, ha.

Layer 19: Which

Which Poke’mon is your favorite? Let’s go with Jigglypuff. Which day of the week is your favorite? I don’t have one. My days all blend together. Which birthday celebration was the most memorable for you? Various ones throughout my life. Which holiday is your favorite? Christmas. Which shoe do you put on first? I think my right.

Layer 20: Love Life/Relationships

What is the name of your first love? Joseph. How many times can you honestly say you’ve been in love? Twice. Have you ever been in a relationship before that was abusive in any way? No. Have you ever been engaged or married before? No. Do you have any children? Nooo.

Layer 21: Jobs, Dreams, & Goals

What did you want to be when you grew up (as a little kid)? I wanted to be a teacher. What do you aspire to be now? What interests you? I have no idea. :/ What is the most recent goal you’ve achieved? I haven’t achieved any in a long time. What is a goal you are still striving to reach? I should be setting some, but... Have you ever won any sort of awards before? If so, for what? Honor roll certificates and award from school clubs I was in.

Layer 22: Opinions & Beliefs

Pro-life or pro-choice? Pro-choice. Were you raised with any sort of religious background? If so, then what? Both sets of grandparents were the ones who tried to influence me in that way and they were of different religions, Jehovah’s Witnesses and Christians. It made things very confusing and complicated and I struggled with what I believed for a very long time. I went through phases of being atheist, agnostic, and then slowly started to open up towards Christianity. Democrat, Republican, or Independent? I don’t want to get into that. For or against the death penalty? It’s very complicated. Thoughts on assisted suicide? That’s a very touchy, sensitive subject.

Layer 23: Currently/Today/Present

What day is it? Saturday, March 6th. What’s the weather like outside? It’s currently 46F. What have you eaten? So far just ramen. Did you run any errands? It’s only 5:21AM, but I won’t be going anywhere today. What time is it? ^^^

Layer 24: Yesterday

Did you have a work shift? I don’t have a job. Did you eat out anywhere? I had breakfast delivered and then got Wingstop takeout for dinner. Was it snowing? No, it doesn’t snow here. Who did you last say goodnight to? My mom. Did anything unusual happen? No.

Layer 25: Tomorrow

Do you have to go to school/class? Nope, I finished school back in 2015. Does this day have any sort of significance to you? No. What is a chore that needs to get done? I don’t have anything I need to do right now. Will you hang out with friends? I don’t have any friends. I’ll hang with my family at home. What time will you be expected to be awake by? Like 4 or 5PM most likely.

Layer 26: Have You Ever

Performed a magic trick successfully? Nope. I dabbled a little bit with card tricks when I was a kid, but I was never any good at it. Sat or laid on a rooftop and looked at the stars? No. I’d be too scared to do that. Walked around with your underwear on inside out or backwards all day without realizing it? Probably. Touched a snake? Nooooo. Been bitten by an animal? If so, what animal? Nope.

Layer 27: School Life

Are preschool and kindergarten mandatory where you live? I’m not sure if preschool is, actually. I went to preschool.  Were you or anyone you knew homeschooled? I was for a brief periods of time after some long hospital stays in 5th, 6th, and 8th grade. Did you attend public or private school? Public. Were you bullied in school, popular, or somewhere in-between? I wasn’t bullied and I most definitely wasn’t popular. What is the highest level of education that you completed? I have my BA in psych.

Layer 28: Your Appearance

Eye Color: Brown. Hair Color: A mix of red and my natural dark brown. Height: Like 5′4. Weight: Somewhere in the 70s (pounds), I think. I haven’t been weighed in years. Do you have freckles. moles, beauty marks, or birthmarks - and where? I have some freckles, some moles, and a birthmark.

Layer 29: Electronics, Internet, & Social Media

How much time do you spend on the internet per day? It really varies. Which social media platforms do you belong to? All the big main ones. When’s the last time you replaced the batteries in your television remote? I don’t recall. Are you more likely to stream movies and shows on your laptop, or cast them to your television? I prefer to on TV. Do you have an e-reader, or do you prefer actual books? No, but I do use the Kindle app on my phone.

Layer 30: Are You

Are you still in school? Nope. Are you a member of the LGBTQ+ community? No. Are you looking forward to anything coming soon? There isn’t anything coming up that I’m looking forward to. Are you dreading anything coming soon? Upcoming doctor appointments.  Are you gullible or naive? I wouldn’t say I’m a gullible or naive person, but I can be gullible and naive at times.

Layer 31: Does

Does your workplace make you feel like you can never take a day off without feeling guilty about it? -- Does someone currently hold the key to your heart? Myself. Does anyone out there hate you? Probably.  Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Yes. Does crying make you feel less strong? Sometimes I do feel like that because I’m just so sensitive and moody and feel like such a baby sometimes. I don’t think crying makes you weak, I’m just hard on myself and feel like I cry too much and over ridiculous things at times. I’m like seriously, you’re crying again?? Or wow, you’re crying over this??

Layer 32: Would You

Do the Polar Bear Plunge? Helllllllllll no. Ever try to walk across a room blindfolded? I’ve done that. And with just my eyes closed. Swim with sharks? Noooooo. Go into outer space, given the chance? Noooooo. Go out in public, looking how you do right now? Ew, no.

Layer 33: Pets/Animals

Do you have any pets? If so, what type, and their names... Yep, I have a 4 year old German Shepherd/Lab mix named Princess Leia. If not, what type of pet have you always wanted? -- What is your favorite animal? Dogs and giraffes. Do you think it is cruel to have circus animals? Yes. How often do you walk your dog, if you have one? How often do you scoop the litterbox, if you have a cat? I don’t walk her because it would be too hard for me to do, but my dad does a few times a week.

Layer 34: Food

What is your favorite breakfast item? Scrambled eggs, biscuits, and hash browns smothered in country gravy, scrambled eggs with spinach, garlic, and green onions, breakfast burritos, and breakfast sandwiches. What is your favorite kind of dessert? Cheesecake, brownies, cupcakes, muffins, donuts, cookies, Little Debbie snacks. Do you eat all three meals everyday? Nope. I usually just have two. What’s the longest you’ve gone without food? Ever, like 2-3 days because I had just had surgery. Otherwise, just a day without any food at all. I’ve gone days with very little when I’m really sick or having appetite issues. What do you like to eat when you are feeling sick? I don’t like to eat when I’m sick, which becomes a problem. I have to try and at least eat buttered toast and soup.

Layer 35: Past

Does your past ever come back to haunt you at times? I’m always dwelling on my past. What is one of your favorite memories of the past? Childhood memories. What is something that you used to do in the past, but no longer do? I used to have somewhat of a social life, but now I don’t have one at all. If you could have a meal with someone from the past, who would it be, and what would you ask them? My grandmother. I’d just want to spend time with her and catch her up on the past 15 years as much as I could. Which historical time period would you like to go back to and check out? Hm. I don’t know.

Layer 36: Future

Do you think you will ever get married one day? Honestly, no. I really don’t see it happening. Do you plan on ever getting a different job in the future, or are you happy with the one you’ve got? I don’t have a job currently. What age do you plan to retire at? Or do you plan on working til you’re dead? I don’t know what my plans are in regards to work.  What is something on your bucket list worth mentioning? One that pretty much everyone says, but traveling.  If given the opportunity to see how your future plays out, would you take it, or no? The future terrifies me, so no I don’t think I would. It could possibly end up being encouraging if I saw things turn around for me in a good way, but I’m afraid it would just show more problems and things getting worse. :/

Layer 37: Hygiene

How often do you shower? Every couple days. How often do you brush your teeth? At least once a day. Do you actually iron any of your clothes? I’ve never ironed my clothes. How often do you do laundry? It gets done about once a week. How long do you use a bath towel before switching it out? I only use it once.

Layer 38: Clothing, Makeup, & Style

Do you wear nail polish? If so, how often do you paint your nails? I haven’t painted my nails in almost 5 years. How would your describe your sense of style? Super casual? ha. I live in leggings and oversized graphic tees. Are there any popular trends that you do not find appealing? Of course. Where do you typically buy your clothing from? Boxlunch and Hot Topic.  What sorts of accessories do you wear/use? I haven’t worn any accessories in awhile. I used to be a big accessories person, like I stuff to match all my outfit and my arms would be full of bracelets.

Layer 39: Hobbies

Do you still color, even as an adult? Yep. I love that adult coloring books became a pretty big thing a few years ago, I love ‘em. Do you/would you like to crochet, knit, cross-stitch, etc? Nah. What’s the last thing you crafted all by yourself? I’m not an arts and crafts person. Do you use Pinterest at all? I do. What’s the last thing that you cooked or baked? Ramen, of course.

Layer 40: Dislikes

List some of your pet peeves here. Eating sounds is a big one. What are some things that annoy you about yourself? Oh jeez. Many things.  Is there anyone out there who you actually hate? Who? Myself? What is a feeling that you dislike? Feeling sick. Do you get some ugly road rage while driving? I don’t drive.

Layer 41: Random

Have you ever successfully pogo’ed on a pogo stick? No. Not sure how that would work with a wheelchair, ha. Have you ever mastered the jump rope? Again, kinda hard to do, but I’ve kinda jumped rope before. Not the actual jumping part course, but did the movements while just wheeling over the rope instead and continuing to move forward. It’s kinda hard to explain, but yeah. Do you know what it feels like to be truly happy? Uhhh.  Is it winter in your part of the world right now? Yes. What’s your favorite type of survey, and why? I enjoy themed ones like this and ones with random, interesting questions that allow me to elaborate more than just simple yes and no. I don’t mind some of that thrown in and some basic questions, but I want more.

Layer 42: Music

What are some of your favorite genres of music? I like variety. What are some music genres that you can’t stand? I’m not into dubstep.  If you had a blank pair of concert tickets, who would you hope to be going to see? Hm. I’d have to think about that. Do you still listen to music on the radio from time to time? It’s been like 4 years since I’ve listened to the radio. iTunes, Spotify, Pandora, Amazon Music, or YouTube? Spotify.

Layer 43: Books

What were some of your favorite books as a child? How young are we talking? Like around 4th grade I started getting into Goosebumps, Nancy Drew, The Baby Sitter’s Club, Ramona and Beezus, and choose your own adventure books.  What genre of books do you typically read most often? Well, for the past couple years now I’ve just been reading murder mystery and psychological thrillers. Apart from those, my favorite genres are fiction, YA, and NA. What are some of your favorite books as an adult? I have several favorite murder mystery series.  What is a book that you were required to read for school that you actually enjoyed? One of them was A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Do you read any newspapers or magazines anymore? I haven’t in years.

Layer 43: Around the World

Where’s the best place you’ve taken a vacation and/or day trip to? My Disneyland trips are definitely some of the best. Where is somewhere that you’d like to go someday, assuming you have the funds to do so? There’s so many places I’d love to visit. Where do your family members originate from? Most are from here, but some from different cities and states. What is your favorite type of ethnic cuisine? Italian. What is something that is typically representative of your own culture? Hm.

Layer 44: Would you Rather...

Drink apple juice or grape juice? Ew, neither. Wear pants or shorts? Pants. I don’t do shorts. Be taller or shorter? Taller. Go to a zoo or an aquarium? Zoo. Visit an art gallery or a museum? Museum.

Layer 45: Movies

Do you remember what the first movie was that you saw in theaters? No, but the first one I remember seeing is The Rugrats Movie. What are some of your favorite movies you’ve seen? There’s so many. What genre of movie do you typically enjoy? Horror, psychological thrillers, drama, superhero, fantasy and sci-fi, romcoms.  What is a movie you’ve seen that you weren’t expecting to like, but were pleasantly surprised? I didn’t think I’d love Star Wars and the superhero movies like I do, honestly. I got into them late, but once I started I was hooked. How many movies do you own? Are they all DVD’s, or do you still have some VHS ones left? I have like 10 DVDs in my personal collection. I also have my Disney VHS tapes stored away.

Layer 46: Personality

Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? I’m an introvert all the way. Are you more easygoing and laid back, or anal? I think I come off as easygoing and laid back to people who don’t know me, but I am not. I mean, in some cases I am, like when it comes to traveling I’m pretty much down to do anything and I’m cool with just chillin’ and checking things out.  Are you kind to everyone who shows that they deserve kindness? I believe so. Describe your sense of humor. I honestly don’t know. Like, I like corny, punny, cheesy jokes, but apart from that I’m not sure how to describe it. People will show me stuff they think is funny and they can be dying of laughter and I can be straight-faced or just give a little chuckle or blow air out of my nose, ha. So yeah, it’s hard to explain. Random stuff will just really strike me as funny. And even if I do think something is amusing, it doesn’t always mean I’m laughing hysterically ya know? I haven’t had a good laugh in a long time. Do you tend to over-share? In surveys I do sometimes.

Layer 47: Celebrities

Which celebrity has given their child the most unique name, in your opinion? Meh, I don’t know. Are there any celebrities that you keep tabs on/read articles about often? Not as much as I used to, honestly. I used to be wrapped up in celebrity gossip and entertainment. I still like that kind of stuff, but I don’t know I just haven’t been following it as much. Who is/are your celebrity crush(es)? Alexander Skarsgard. Have you ever personally met someone famous before? If so, then who? Jamie Lee Curtis and Drake Bell. Who is a celebrity that you’re getting tired of hearing about all the time? Hmm.

Layer 48: Emotions

When was the last time you cried? A couple days ago. What are some things that you’re afraid of? Losing loved ones, dying, never getting better/getting worse... What is something small that makes you happy? That first sip of coffee. Who is the last person that you were angry with, and about what? It’s been awhile since I’ve been angry with someone. Are you typically a shy or outgoing person? I’m very shy.

Layer 49: Digging Deeper

What is your favorite alcoholic beverage? I don’t drink. How old were you when you got drunk for the first time? 21. Do you smoke? Nope. Have you ever taken and sent naked pictures of yourself? No. Have you ever done any drugs other than marijuana? If so, which ones? Nope.

Layer 50: Games

What are some of your favorite video games? Mario Bro games. Do you have any computer games that you play regularly? I go through phases with The Sims where I’ll play all the time and then go years without playing. The last time I played was 3 years ago. What was your favorite board game, growing up? Sorry!, Trouble, and Life. How about your favorite card game? Growing up I liked playing Uno and Crazy 8′s.  How good are you at solving puzzles? (such as a Rubik’s cube, word puzzles, or putting together a jigsaw puzzle) I love word searches and such. I used to enjoy doing actual puzzles when I was a kid. I’ve actually been wanting to do a puzzle lately.

[ohsh1t2wksl8]

[pjstafford]

Precious Time

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”  A tale of Two Cities Charles Dickens

 I have been posting blogs every Thursday as a way to mark the passage of time of each week  since I started working remotely and going out only for essential needs.  I think many of us our redefining our relationship with time.   So I have been thinking of the quote from Charles Dickens from A Tale of Two Cities

The passing of time is a scientific, incontrovertible fact.  The sun rises and it sets and there is a day. The moon rises and it sets and there is a night.  Winter turns to Spring and then to Summer and then to Fall.  When it repeats a year has slipped away.  Time is, also, a social construct.  We say 9-5 Monday through Friday is a typical work day and there might be some logic to that, but there might be logic to 7-5 four days a week as well. We have Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, but some cultures add a tea or late supper. A midnight shift worker still gets lunch –even though his lunch is at 3 a.m. we don’t call it breakfast in the middle of the work shift.  The lunch hour is a social construct of a work life.  We mark our seasons and plan our celebrations based on Holidays that cross countries like Easter or Passover and that don’t Thanksgiving or the Fourth of July.  Those are societal or cultural norms that we put in place to structure our time.  

In this, the Spring of 2020, time has simultaneously sped up and slowed day and our social construct of time means next to nothing at all – even as we are in the midst of what is commonly called “Holy Week.”  

I mark the time on Thursdays –

             Thursday March 5th was my birthday.  A friend and I went to a restaurant for dinner.  There were ten deaths in the country from the disease.  I worried if my trio to DC in two weeks would be canceled.  

             Thursday March 12 with the first confirmed case in New Mexico and the governor taking swift action I conversed with my boss about what swift action our agency would take to follow the governor’s lead and then I proceeded out of town to a work related trip that would last the week-end.

             Thursday March 19 I woke up with my first day to work remotely and socially distance except for essentials.  I wrote my first quarantine blog.

             Every Thursday since…

             And now its Thursday April 9 and 14, 000 across the country have died.  

 It’s happened all so fast! And time is so precious.  There are steps we can take to reduce the deaths but we started so late.  We must today do whatever we can to get more beds, more ventilators, more health care professionals and more tests.  Time is scarce and  there is an urgent need to get something done!  

But that is not my role in this crisis.  I am a non-essential employee.  My role is to socially distance.  And suddenly the social constructs of time looks different. Not just for me but for millions.  I hear people talk about the days running together and is it ok to have a beer at 3 in the afternoon when they woke up at 4 a.m. and plan on sleeping soon.  For me, I have actual work.  I am amazed by how many phone conferencing, time specific duties I have during this time of social distancing.  It sets some structure to my days.  As I blog last week, I have discovered I have to work at maintaining some structure of a week-end, but I have more time during the week.    I do not get up and get dress and commute to work and then commute back.  I mean I do get up and dress, but it looks far different. There are hours “saved” there and I eat when I want at home because I am in front of a computer, or listening to a webinar or a press conference and that social construct of lunch time might become a shower, or a walk, or a X-Files break. Do you know how many X-files episodes are about the threat of global contagion?  I digress.  I digress a lot these days.  My first blog was about everything I was going to do with this time, but if King Lear was written during a quarantine, my next novel is likely not to be.

It is, well, the worst of times for sure!  It can, also, be the best of times for some of us if we let it.  Last Friday was a great day!  Well, the New Mexico order for stay at home was extended and the governor announced the numbers the models show might die which were shocking and we found out specifically how many ventilators we were likely to come up short on.  And our President!  But a nurse friend from New Jersey who had been exposed without proper equipment tested negative and it was a joyous day.  I had a social media concert watch party about 5 on a Friday and it was like an actual Thank God its Friday party and that was so special.  It was the worst of and the not so bad of a day.  

The Dickens quote from a Tale of Two Cities!  We are all on the global planet going through the exact same pandemic, but in many ways we are going through it very differently, aren’t we?

There are the tales of the medical professionals, god bless them. My guess is time never feels slowed down for them.  

There are the tales of the unexpected heroes of grocery store employees, truck drivers, trash collectors, postal men, all who are not in fact staying at home because they are essential and the work they are doing cannot be done remotely.  

There are the tales I know the best of those who are staying at home, but that looks different for different people.  I live alone. I like solitude.  I enjoy working from home.   There are parents trying to continue education for their younger children while working full time jobs.  There are twenty somethings who social lives mean more to them.  There are persons who routine was to see their elderly parent in the nursing home every Thursday.  I guess in some ways they are just different chapters of the same novel.

There are economic inequities.  If you are having symptoms simply isolate into the basement or a single floor in your three story house.  Or, if you have a single story three bedroom house, the kids may have to share a room when daddy has symptoms.  Well, that looks a little different.  If you live with your spouse and your two toddlers in a one bedroom or studio apartments, social distancing is not possible.    Or if you are homeless and living in a shelter.  Or if, or if or if.  Decontaminate by immediately washing your clothes- because we all own washer and dryers don’t we?  

And if you live in an abusive relationship and you are now alone with the person the entire time.  The stressors are worse and….There are moments of hell happening across the global planet in the pandemic.  Some has to do with the loss of lives.  Some has to do  specifically with social distancing.  

But I also think that this is actually the reality of everyday life. The pandemic only exasperates existing problems.  .  While I sympathize and empathize with every single person going through hell, I cannot live it for them anymore than I can for all the homeless I regularly see on the street during normal times.  Life and death, also, happen every day.  The probabilities are high we will be effected in this time and I am not downplaying it and I don’t want to normalize it, but I do want to say there are some daily life lessons we could remember for when this is over – to love the ones we love, to know that everything can change in a second. The fact of life and death is not created in this time, but we are experiencing it differently now.  As we experience the intensity of this time, we should use it to reestablish a relationship with time that is focused on the preciousness of that time.  

I am struggling with sleep, worry and fear even if I enjoy the solitude.  I cannot put on music and dance.  It is a joyous activity and I feel little joy.  But is my not dancing causing fewer people to die?   Call  me Pollyanna but I still am hoping that, for some of us, we can find the best of times in this time.  

Most of our life we do not have enough of time .  I want to get to a place for myself and I hope others can too where they can experience the time in a peaceful and precious way.    I’m not there.  I want to be.

I think of a woman I know who bakes everyday with her kids as part of their lessons- great for math and science.   She bakes in the afternoon and the bake goods of the day are ready to eat around the 3:30 – 4:00 framework which is the time the kids were used to coming home and having a snack.  20 years from now those kids might think of this time as the time their mother spent teaching them to bake.  That doesn’t mean all the other people experiencing hell are not still experiencing hell  but not baking with her kids isn’t going to solve the world’s problems right now either.  It’s ok to have a project to finish.  It’s, also, ok not to and to spend more time enjoying your spouse or your kids or your parents or siblings if you live with them.  Watch t.v., play a game, converse.  

I feel very much alone in my isolation.  I want to believe that those people who have this time with their families are embracing it and embracing them.  And so why don’t I write that psychological thriller I’ve been saying I want to work on now for two years?  I don’t know.  I’m not learning a new language as I started with downtime in January and February. As much as I said in that first blog I had plans, boy, and looking forward to the time….I throw up my hands in the air exasperated at myself.  Maybe I needed to process a little what the world was going through and how I felt about my non-essential role.  Maybe I needed to give myself permission to feel the pain.  Maybe now, I write this blog as a way of giving myself permission to look again at this time as precious- because I do not know when I will have this much of it again, because all time is precious, because tomorrow I might die.  

 It is the worst of times, ok!  It is still precious time.  This Saturday night I am participating in a virtual rock concert video watch with some friends.  Can’t remember the last time I went out dancing on a Saturday night!  Maybe it is ok to put on music and dance. I give myself permission to be joyous. I have the time.  

[rileyhgoldstein]

❝ In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses. ❞ 

MARGARET QUALLEY? No, that’s actually RILEY HAYES-GOLDSTEIN. A SIXTH YEAR student, this HUFFLEPUFF student is sided with DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY. SHE identifies as CIS-WOMAN and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be SARDONIC, PARANOID, and PESSIMISTIC but also MORALLY-RESPONSIBLE, WITTY, and RESILIENT.

CHARACTER PARALLELS: Daria ( Daria ), Seth Cohen ( The OC ), Veronica Sawyer( Heathers ), Ron Swanson/Ben Wyatt ( Parks & Rec ), Quentin Coldwater ( The Magicians ), Pam Beasley ( The Office ), Zari Tomaz ( Legends of Tomorrow )

TRIGGERS: Anxiety, Depression, Parental Abandonment, Mentions of Drugs™ and Alcohol™

LIKES & INTERESTS: Cult Classics - Movies ( Heathers, Dead Poets Society, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Buellers Day Off, Cruel Intentions, The Breakfast Club, Almost Famous ), Blue raspberry Slushies, Donuts, Judaism, Arctic Monkeys, Lana Del Rey, The Strokes, The Smiths, the color blue, writing poetry, e. e. cummings, art museums, greek mythology, rmemes, Rolling joints on her favorite books, biblical mythology, astronomy, astrology ( she finds it very entertaining in a mocking way and would never admit there’s a small part of her that enjoys it ), Star Wars, black cats, black cats named Boggart, black nail polish, tattoos, carnivals, comic books, ferris wheels, puns, the sea, jellyfish, NPR every morning, going to the beach at twilight, 4 am drives, 5am runs, spliff.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Observant, Cooperative, Strategic, Witty, Intelligent, Resilient, Morally Responsible, Loyal.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reserved, Pessimistic, Sardonic, Secretive, Curious ( it will get her into trouble ), Awkward, Suspicious.

BIOGRAPHY:  ( parental abandonment, mentions of drugs and alcohol. )

When you meet Riley Goldstein, a picturesque childhood in a picturesque suburbia in Virginia is not what you would expect and yet it was exactly what she had. Born on the cusp of summer and fall, Rachel and Christopher were over the moon to have their daughter, Riley Hayes, born on August 28, 2007. Finally, a child to complete the perfect family unit. Maybe they had hoped for a boy despite what science said ( hence the name Riley & a full name for a boy they had prepared ) but, they had a daughter and for the first ten years of her life they pampered her greatly. Trips to the coast every summer to visit his side of the family where Riley was praised for being such a pretty, good girl, and what seemed like infinite love from her father was doled out as long as she was what he wanted her to be. The younger girl was cooperative, it was in her nature it seemed, because she loved seeing her parents happy with each other. As long as Riley stayed within the lines, stayed within Christopher’s lines at least, everything would be well. Even when Riley started to develop a few habits and interests that were off the wall, he brushed them aside as childhood obsessions. Never could he accept his family for what they were which is exactly why he left.

The ugly truth was, Riley was an accident and the picture painted had been a lie – not that Riley knew until then. While she knew they had gotten married young she’d never known how much exactly her mother had given up to be with her father. Rachel Hayes had left her family, forsaken her religion ( as Christopher was a very religious Christian man ), the semi famous Goldstein Wizarding name, and moved down south into this suburbia all with the promise of a family. The biggest thing? Magic. When Christopher left a year before Riley entered school, Riley was forced to grow up and pick up the pieces of a broken lost woman who simply couldn’t find herself in the rubble that was the aftermath of her father leaving. But finding out she was an accident was the least of her worries. No matter how much poetry she wrote trying to figure out her mind, oftentimes thinking she was losing it, something within her was different, something within her felt different.

It took a few months to coax the why from her mother, and truly she was her caretaker. It wasn’t until her 10th birthday when she got the letter from Ilvermony that she realized what exactly was off. When she confronted her mother – her mother just poured everything out to her. Who Riley was, who her family was, what she was doing with her life before she met Christopher. At first, Riley couldn’t believe it – – she’d grown up hiding comics under her bed, hiding anything about the supernatural away. Even if her whole life she had felt a weird pull to these people who didn’t belong in her comics, these freaks, she never in her wildest dreams thought she’d have something concretely in common with them. It all made sense though, and finally the pieces of her life started to come together. Riley knew what she had to do, so at the age of 10, she went with her mother to Wizarding NYC to try to find out more. To try to find the family her mother left behind.

After that, everything fell into place – her family was beyond accepting, even if they gave her shit, more than she’d ever known from her dad’s family and her mom started to get better as she become more true to herself. The family reconciled, helping Riley and Rachel move into a flat in NYC, in Chinatown. Rachel got a job at the ministry as an assistant and with the help of some family members and Riley started to prepare for school Wizarding School. She’d never been more happy in her life. New York City was her home, more than her podunk shitty town ever had and she felt a freedom that made her wander the city. She felt a freedom to finally be herself. The only issue then? Riley wanted to go to a school far away from everything, because even if New York was her home, she needed to a break from being in the states. A break from all these people who knew who her family was & really, a place that was her own to find her own in the world. Sure, she had some family in the UK but there wasn’t the same pressure. Easily, she picked Hogwarts and was delighted when they accepted her no matter how far she was. Hufflepuff was the perfect house for her, even if she wasn’t the most conventional or stereotypical kind of one.

For years, she pushed away a lot of the pain she felt – she figured her pain was her own, it was selfish of her to dwell on it or even think about it when she had this new fantastic life. Only in her poetry would she divulge her feelings, only her poetry knew that she felt inexplicably lost in the world the more she saw it. Around her 14th birthday, she met two boys in school who were a bit older than her but the twins ended up being her half-brothers – as they found they shared a father. A scumbag father who’d also been horrible to them. It was then that Riley wanted to distance herself from her father even more, fiercely signing and writing her last name as Hayes-Goldstein or just Goldstein when she could get away with it.

The thing was, the reminder of her father, the reminder that he was out there ruining more people’s lives, that he was out there spawning more children really intensely messed with Riley’s head. Why wasn’t she good enough for him to stay? Why couldn’t they have been enough? It was stupid, but the thoughts started to consume her and the lost feeling just got bigger. Picking up vices like smoking, smoking pot, drinking beer like she was her own father after a long day of work, anything to escape the feeling that she didn’t really have a place in this world. Not one she could see. What was she even going to do with her life after school? What did she have to offer the world? A loneliness she could not shake slept with her at night like any blanket did, every day felt like she was smothered. Every day there was a new realization that she didn’t know what the hell she wanted to do with her life, and that she didn’t really have a place in the world. When the climate in the Wizarding World of England became a war zone, Riley wanted nothing to do with it but because of who she was – because of what her religion reminded her of  – she couldn’t just stand idly by. Riley knew that even if she was Neutral, she would fight with Dumbledore’s Army or at least be an ally to them if need be.

CONNECTION TO JUDAISM:

Judaism was once a rarely talked about religion in the Hayes house, in fact, Riley knew barely anything about the religion at all. If she had realized it was taboo instead, it would’ve been something she would’ve dipped her mind into much earlier. The Hayes family were church goers, Sundays, Easter, Christmas, that was the religious practice they followed and had been since Rachel Hayes had forgone her roots in Judaism. Once she married & became Mrs. Christopher Hayes, she lost the part of her that made her her,that connected her to her family, all because of a pregnancy that was unplanned, and a marriage that needed to happen in result of it.

Once Christopher left, Riley dug up old numbers, old things, anything she could find that would bring her mother back to herself. Here, the woman gave so much of herself to her father and Riley felt she needed to get some of her back. Anything would do, anything at all. When Riley found an old Siddur, stuffed in the back of her mother’s side of the closet, she had a pretty good idea of a way to start.

It started with looking at temples in NYC when they finally moved. All the two did was walk around, taking in the city itself. Taking in the fact that there were even so many people in one place as opposed to small town Virginia where they lived. Taking in people coming back synagogue, the dress, and while it was painful at first for her mom, Rachel slowly started to explain to Riley different things, different details about Judaism. Soon, Riley and Rachel learned together and go at least once a month for Saturday evening services as well as for most High Holidays. From then on, the rest of the Goldstein family also invited them to family event after event, Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Hannukah gatherings.  

Riley’s favorite Jewish holiday is Yom Kippur: the day of Atonement. While she knows she had absolutely no control over being born, she does feel she has a lot to atone for. A lot to cleanse from her soul. A lot of regrets, a lot of guilt for the things she’d done and the people she’s not been able to become. Like a failure, failing her family, failing their legacy. Her poetry may be fair game – it’s raw, it’s unforgiving and it’s brutal – to herself & to others. For being what she is, for being something else other than human and purposefully standing by while others cause havoc – she feels she needs to cleanse & atone for that. It’s the day that she for once feels clean, cleansed and not like the figure from Greek mythology: Atlas.

anything else

I once called her a Memelord Shitstain. I stand by that. It’s why it’s her label

If Lana Del Rey and Weird Al’ Yankovic did a duet, that would be Riley’s vibe. LOL.

Loves water. Dreams of water. Water is the best. Water would be her element if she had one in my opinion.

writes so much poetry and like 90 percent of it is shitty and tHATS THE TEA!!!!

riley is a virgo and i gave her this sign before i knew about astrology and it’s literally perfect for her

lbr is tumblr roleplaying is a thing in this rp ( META )  she’s in a marvel rp as we speak

depression/anxiety tw  Riley has some friends but due to her own issues and her antisocial nature, often she’ll disappear for long periods of time, hiding in her dorm or little parts of the castle, only to come back with apologies and explanation ( excuses ) as to why she was away. Truthfully, Riley also suffers from MDD and GA, which have only gotten worse over the years despite her trying medication after medication along with therapy. Part of her has given up, missing multiple appts, forgetting to take her medication, while a part of her wants to get better but doesn’t ever know if she can.

Riley has a natural inclination towards legilimency, her first sign of magic was actually poking around someone’s mind in a grocery store and influencing them to get her the popsicles she wanted but it’s not a developed skill in the slightest and truthfully Riley doesn’t EVER want to go into it. It’s really not developed it’s just like a fun fact. a tidbit.

Knows she has quite the Legacy to live up to and while her family is fantastic, she can’t help but feel left out of a huge ass family that grew up together and knew each other. This is really based on just her own insecurities.  

[rileygoldsteins]

i’ve literally copy and pasted my app and that’s the best i can do RN!!! pls skip to the second section if you just want to get her personality + feel with judaism ( though, there’s a lot of that in the bio too ) but !!! i’ve love to plot even though riley can def be a muse who your muse hasn’t talked to because she is pretty to herself and antisocial so if you’d like to go with that let me know!! IM JINX i also play rose!!!

❝ In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.❞ Riley Goldstein, Margaret Qualley, Almost Eighteen ( Virgo Queen! ), Seventh Year, Hufflepuff, Cis-Female, Halfblood, She/Her

PINTREST: [ x ]

BIOGRAPHY:  ( parental abandonment, mentions of drugs and alcohol. )

When you meet Riley Goldstein, a picturesque childhood in a picturesque suburbia in Virginia is not what you would expect and yet it was exactly what she had. Born on the cusp of summer and fall, Rachel and Christopher were over the moon to have their daughter, Riley Hayes, born on August 28, 2000. Finally, a child to complete the perfect family unit. Maybethey had hoped for a boy despite what science said ( hence the name Riley & a full name for a boy they had prepared ) but, they had a daughter and for the first ten years of her life they pampered her greatly. Trips to the coast every summer to visit his side of the family where Riley was praised for being such a pretty, good girl, and what seemed like infinite love from her father was doled out as long as she was what hewanted her to be. The younger girl was cooperative, it was in her nature it seemed, because she loved seeing her parents happy with each other. As long as Riley stayed within the lines, stayed within Christopher’s lines at least, everything would be well. Even when Riley started to develop a few habits and interests that were off the wall, he brushed them aside as childhood obsessions. Never could he accept his family for what they were which is exactly why he left.

The ugly truth was, Riley was an accident and the picture painted had been a lie – not that Riley knew until then. While she knew they had gotten married young she’d never known how much exactly her mother had given up to be with her father. Rachel Hayes had left her family, forsaken her religion ( as Christopher was a very religious Christian man ), the semi famous Goldstein Wizarding name, and moved down south into this suburbia all with the promise of a family. The biggest thing? Magic. When Christopher left a year before Riley entered school, Riley was forced to grow up and pick up the pieces of a broken lost woman who simply couldn’t find herself in the rubble that was the aftermath of her father leaving. But finding out she was an accident was the least of her worries. No matter how much poetry she wrote trying to figure out her mind, oftentimes thinking she was losing it, something within her was different, something within her felt different.

It took a few months to coax the why from her mother, and truly she was her caretaker. It wasn’t until her 10th birthday when she got the letter from Ilvermony that she realized what exactly was off. When she confronted her mother – her mother just poured everything out to her. Who Riley was, who her family was, what she was doing with her life before she met Christopher. At first, Riley couldn’t believe it – – she’d grown up hiding comics under her bed, hiding anything about the supernatural away. Even if her whole life she had felt a weird pull to these people who didn’t belong in her comics, these freaks, she never in her wildest dreams thought she’d have something in common with them. It all made sense though, and finally the pieces of her life started to come together. Riley knew what she had to do, so at the age of 10, she went with her mother to Wizarding NYC to try to find out more. To try to find the family her mother left behind.

After that, everything fell into place – her family was beyond accepting, even if they gave her shit, more than she’d ever known from her dad’s family and her mom started to get better as she become more true to herself. The family reconciled, helping Riley and Rachel move into a flat in NYC, in Chinatown. Rachel got a job at the ministry as an assistant and with the help of some family members and Riley started to prepare for school Wizarding School. She’d never been more happy in her life. New York City was her home, more than her podunk shitty town ever had, and she felt a freedom that made her wander the city, she felt a freedom to finally be herself. The only issue then? Riley wanted to go to a school far away from everything, because even if New York was her home, she needed to a break from being in the states. A break from all these people who knew who her family was & really, a place that was her own to find her own in the world. Easily, she picked Hogwarts and was delighted when they accepted her no matter how far she was. Hufflepuff was the perfect house for her, even if she wasn’t the most conventional or stereotypical kind of one.

For years, she pushed away a lot of the pain she felt – she figured her pain was her own, it was selfish of her to dwell on it or even think about it when she had this new fantastic life. Only in her poetry would she divulge her feelings, only her poetry knew that she felt inexplicably lost in the world the more she saw it. Around her 14th birthday, she met two boys in school who were a bit older than her but the twins ended up being her half-brothers – as they found they shared a father. A scumbag father who’d also been horrible to them. It was then that Riley wanted to distance herself from her father even more, fiercely signing and writing her last name as Hayes-Goldstein or just Goldstein when she could get away with it.

The thing was, the reminder of her father, the reminder that he was out there ruining more people’s lives, that he was out there spawning more children really intensely messed with Riley’s head. Why wasn’t she good enough for him to stay? Why couldn’t they have been enough? It was stupid, but the thoughts started to consume her and the lost feeling just got bigger. Picking up vices like smoking, smoking pot, drinking beer like she was her own father after a long day of work, anything to escape the feeling that she didn’t really have a place in this world. Not one she could see. What was she even going to do with her life after school? What did she have to offer the world? A loneliness she could not shake slept with her at night like any blanket did, every day felt like she was smothered. Every day there was a new realization that she didn’t know what the hell she wanted to do with her life, and that she didn’t really have a place in the world. Having the family members she does in New York is comforting, but, there’s still a feeling of not quite belonging – no matter how much she loves them.

II. PERSONALITY.

CHARACTER PARALLELS: Daria ( Daria ), Seth Cohen ( The OC ), Veronica Sawyer ( Heathers ), Ron Swanson/Ben Wyatt ( Parks & Rec ), Quentin Coldwater ( The Magicians ),Pam Beasley ( The Office ), Zari Tomaz ( Legends of Tomorrow )

LIKES & INTERESTS: Cult Classics - Movies ( Heathers, Dead Poets Society, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Buellers Day Off, Cruel Intentions, The Breakfast Club, Almost Famous ), Blue raspberry Slushies, Donuts, Judaism, Arctic Monkeys, Lana Del Rey, The Strokes, The Smiths, the color blue, writing poetry, e. e. cummings, art museums, greek mythology, rmemes, exchanging memes with Sahar, Rolling joints on her favorite books, biblical mythology, astronomy, astrology ( she finds it very entertaining in a mocking way and would never admit there’s a small part of her that enjoys it ), Star Wars, black cats, black cats named Boggart, black nail polish, tattoos, carnivals, comic books, ferris wheels, puns, the sea, jellyfish, NPR every morning, going to the beach at twilight, 4 am drives, 5am runs, spliff.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Observant, Cooperative, Strategic, Witty, Intelligent, Resilient, Morally Responsible, Loyal.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reserved, Pessimistic, Sardonic, Secretive, Curious ( it will get her into trouble ), Awkward, Suspicious.

III. HISTORY / CONNECTION WITH JUDAISM. 

Judaism was once a rarely talked about religion in the Hayes house, in fact, Riley knew barely anything about the religion at all. If she had realized it was taboo instead, it would’ve been something she would’ve dipped her mind into much earlier. The Hayes family were church goers, Sundays, Easter, Christmas, that was the religious practice they followed and had been since Rachel Hayes had forgone her roots in Judaism. Once she married & became Mrs. Christopher Hayes, she lost the part of her that made herher,that connected her to her family, all because of a pregnancy that was unplanned, and a marriage that needed to happen in result of it.

Once Christopher left, Riley dug up old numbers, old things, anything she could find that would bring her mother back to herself. Here, the woman gave so much of herself to her father and Riley felt she needed to get some of her back. Anything would do, anything at all. When Riley found an old Siddur, stuffed in the back of her mother’s side of the closet, she had a pretty good idea of a way to start.

It started with looking at temples in NYC when they finally moved. All the two did was walk around, taking in the city itself. Taking in the fact that there were even so many people in one place as opposed to small town Virginia where they lived. Taking in people coming back synagogue, the dress, and while it was painful at first for her mom, Rachel slowly started to explain to Riley different things, different details about Judaism. Soon, Riley and Rachel learned together and go at least once a month for Saturday evening services as well as for most High Holidays. From then on, the rest of the Goldstein family also invited them to family event after event, Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Hannukah gatherings.  

Riley’s favorite Jewish holiday is Yom Kippur: the day of Atonement. While she knows she had absolutely no control over being born, she does feel she has a lot to atone for. A lot to cleanse from her soul. A lot of regrets, a lot of guilt for the things she’d done and the people she’s not been able to become. Like a failure, failing her family, failing their legacy. Her poetry may be fair game – it’s raw, it’s unforgiving and it’s brutal – to herself & to others. For being what she is, for being something else other than human and purposefully standing by while others cause havoc – she feels she needs to cleanse & atone for that. It’s the day that she for once feels clean, cleansed and not like the figure from Greek mythology: Atlas.

Is your character involved in any summer programs? Do you wish for your character to be a Prefect, Head Student, or a member of the Quidditch team?:

Truthfully, Riley has no clue what she wants to do with her life but she knew that she’d have to do something over the summer for her mother to allow her to stay there for the majority of it. So, after not getting into three of the departments under the Shacklebolt Internship Program, Riley submitted her writing and a desperate application to Obscurus Books Publishing and got a small internship there. She also works in an extension of her cousin Sahar’s great grandfather’s bakery in Diagon Alley.

[beasuniverse00]

My Holy Communion was in Poland, in 1976. Traditionally, the girls were wearing white, but unlike today, the whole ceremony was a fashion show. Not only because the town was looking, but all the family members were invited and all the parents were anxious to show off their wealth and event organising skills.

I don’t really know how wealthy we were back then. I do remember though that I gagged to have a long dress (almost all girls did and it was sort of compulsory matter between the girls). On the day, I was presented with a velour dress, above the knee, with pink trimmings. While all my family adored the garment, I was disgusted and ever so sad. I cried and cried. I saw the dress many times after that day, even a few years after, when I grew up, but the more I looked at it, the more I hated it. Ugly, ugly thing. I don’t remember much from the ceremony. After a trip to church, it became more an adult party. Despite it to suppose to be my day, it was just one more opportunity to drink and get drunk.

Sometimes I go back to that time and wonder. My parents were not church goers. We didn’t talk about God at home and generally everything what was going on inside our home was very far from exemplary Christian family. Yet every year we (my brother and I) were forced by our parents to celebrate Easter, Christmas and other Christian Holidays “by the (holy) book”. We were even told to fast before Christmas, and we were inviting a priest before that (Priest was always visiting some time before, to supply the holy bread to households. The real reason though was to get a “donation” of no less then…), and run to the Church on Saturday before Easter to bless food traditionally prepared in decorated wicker basket (see below). It was all just display though.

So, my parents were Catholics whenever it suited them. All other times it was a pathological family with higher education. Sad but true. Nobody bothered though, because it was all normal back then. Everything was happening behind the closed doors. No complaints, no interference from the outside world… just gossip between the neighbours, when last night wasn’t the quiet one.

We were all “forced” into Christianity, in a way. Baptism was not optional. Kids were baptised before they were a year old and being a Catholic could not be discussed. That doesn’t mean that there were no other religions around. It was just a silent issue, rarely discussed in the community.

So similarly, I had nothing really to say about what to wear, do etc. during my communion. It was again one more occasion for adults to get wasted. Traditions were very good pretext for gatherings and drinking.

A few years later, there came a time for another holy occasion – Confirmation. I was old enough to refuse though and so I did. Scare tactics, such as “you won’t be able to have a wedding in the church” and of similar meaning didn’t bother me at all. I was confused enough not get deeper into the subject and ignore it. Domestic issues were far more important and dangerous than church wedding at the time, and that was something that I had to deal with on daily basis. Soon I stopped thinking about religion, full stop; And it pretty much stayed the same till today. Nowadays, my religious thoughts are limited to scientific considerations, but that is covered in another Blog of mine: FACTS-OPINIONS-HYPOTHESES .

Anyway, that was the first of many (major) things that were not what they supposed to be.

First Communion My Holy Communion was in Poland, in 1976. Traditionally, the girls were wearing white, but unlike today, the whole ceremony was a fashion show.

[msvulnerable-mystory]

amicable...

Mazz,

I’m needing to get thoughts and feelings out into a letter, so I remember the details of this experience and stand in my decision. Own it. It’s critical for acceptance and the grief process that I make sense of what has transpired between us over this last 9 months and how we reached separation.

Such a movie like love story that people would pay for a ticket to watch, like the Notebook and A Star is Born (the irony is we watched this movie together) you in Pittsburgh, me in Mass. I’m the one, between the two of us who values romance, love, a relationship and soulmate experience. You are the career driven person. You will give up and sacrifice a soulmate partnership for your work partnership.That’s just one reason we won’t continue this journey.

Our last conversation is imprinted on my soul, embedded onto the walls of my heart. I write these words and this memory, so that when time has passed and I’ve moved on, I will still remember with detail, the insults and wounds. This phone conversation the day of my Grandmother’s death, actually a couple of hours after,  is another reason we won’t continue this journey. 

My Grandmother had passed away in Hospice that same day as this conversation. The day before, I’d been texting to you all day long infattically about moving to Pittsburgh. I was trying to avoid a separation. You’d had made it clear you were choosing your career. I couldn’t take this long distance relationship, any longer. I’d stated that I didn’t’ want any of your friends or family to give advice about us and me relocating, when they didn’t know me personally or my commitment to you or my internal strength and independent spirit. You were choosing your career and I was choosing us. I don’t want to lose you, to give up us, our friendship and bond. I asked you to understand that it would take some time to get settled and get a job, but that I would make it happen, once I was there in person. I was making jokes about laying in bed naked with heels on waiting for you to get home. I was elated and going on about cooking together and being at the house when you return from trips. I was going on in text about waking up on Saturday and Sunday mornings wrapped around each other. I was going into detail about US being in EACH OTHERS LIVES EVERYDAY!!

You were getting in the car to Harrisburg for work. Your replies didn’t seem to envoke the elation that I was needing to hear and feel. I was committing to moving to Pittsburgh, your town. I got an LOL for the naked in heels text, I got mostly messages about being responsible and having a plan. You did say that you understood needing to be settled there in person to run an interview and job campaign, in a city I’ve never lived in. I was at work, had gotten my rental car at this point and was getting messages about my Grandmother’s rapidly declining health in the hospital. I texted you that I was leaving work early and headed to see my Grandmother in Auburn, Maine, two hours North. You were in the car with your business partner, how ironic that you were in the car with Joe, technically the person your choosing to continue on this life path with, as your career partner.

From day one, Monday September 24th, 2018 when we met in Portsmouth, I met you on a work trip, so in my mind how can I fairly question or doubt a career that put us in each other’s lives? It felt like we were in a love story, making a movie about why it’s worth it to wait for your soulmate! That’s how I initially felt.

Then, as time passed and you learned information about your business partners and you felt like you were working harder than your partners and you continuously traveled, week after week, it was literally impossible to establish consistency with your traveling for work, me working weekends and us living in different places. We’d go a month literally without seeing each other and it wasn’t even discussed as if it was a lengthy amount of time. It didn’t seem to phase you. You seemed accustomed to the distance and time apart. A part of me believes you didn’t mind being long distance. You were so busy traveling and weren’t really ever home, so when you were, it seemed like one big reunion all the time eith friends and family.

Couple of variables that got us through beginning of relationship long distance were it being holiday time and both of us newly dating November and December flew by. Then in January, I went to San Diego and Palm Springs, joining an already planned trip. After returning from the trip, with me training with Toll and having our grand opening in January. Also, the Patriots won the Superbowl and I wanted to watch it with family and not have a Steel fan in my presence with your spiteful low key football fan digs. So, I excused not seeing you in January because I had played a part in us physically missing each other. On your birthday you came here to MA to have dinner together, then you flew home Saturday. At the end of January, we’d made a pact to try and see each other every two weeks.

In February, we managed to see each other twice that month, as I flew to Pittsburgh for valentines day and you secured a job assignment in Conneticut at the end of February, so once you wrapped up the job, you traveled here to me in Mass and we spent a couple of days together. This was when I had car problems and got my quote back for repairs at $9,000 for my Q5, god damn that car! But, you brainstormed with me about filing bankruptsy. We worked on a budget. I opened up to you about my finances in February, you witnessed my car die on me and I was forward and transparent and explained that my credit wasn’t strong and I live paycheck to paycheck.

I can’t really remember March, I think I visited Pittsburgh twice.

In April, we met in Boca Raton, Florida for two days. You were working and I was visiting you on my weekend! Then for Easter, I flew to spend time with you in Pittsburch, I went over your Mom’s house with you for Easter dinner. That’s when you finally told me that your Mom lives across the street from you, LITERALLY. So, I’m astonished because I’ve been so open and willing to be vulnerable with you and you were secretive about being neighbors with your Mother, it felt odd finding out after such a long period of dating. In April, I tested. Right after Easter, you weren’t there, but you supported me by paying for my hotel to be with my family for two nights. You supported me from afar. You said that was the only way you could support me.

In May, we didn’t see each other until my results. Now, as it’s coming on a full week since my Grandmother passing, I reflect and feel misunderstood and unheard.  Invalidated. Apparently, your able to support from afar. You can buy my plane tickets to visit, you can get me hotel rooms to allow my family to spend time together, you can help me file bankruptcy, you can help me through getting my genetic testing and results, but, when it comes to being your everyday person, next to you in real life, I’m not good enough or worth it. Apparently, there are life prerequisites that I don’t meet.

You have the audacity to start lecturing me about being financially secure first. You actually utter the words that I need to save money and have a job before I move and you don’t trust me enough to move to Pittsburgh and secure a job then. You watched me get a job with Toll, right when we met. You’ve witnessed that I am a desirable employee from my interviewing process, but you don’t trust that I will follow through if I moved to Pittsburgh. It’s either Mazz’s way or no way, literally! There’s no compromise. You are closed off to the idea of giving me a month or 6 weeks to settle in and get established. You tell me that I am irrisponsable and that you need a partner that is financially stable and secure. Why didn’t you tell me this in March when you helped support me and may for my bankruptsy case? It feels to me as though I’m word the effort from afar, but not to be your life partner, in the real everyday world. I feel mislead, confused and undermined. From the first day we met, you said in a very open fashion you were open to moving and that your job and career were flexible. You told me you would be here to support me and do whatever I needed that you were capable of. But, when I say the same, when I say I choose us. I will make the commitment and sacrifice and move. All of the sudden, conveniently, your reasons are brought to the surface of our conversation. Now, bankruptsy is a reason to not be with me as a partner. I was transparent and it seemed as though you still were invested and wanting to move forward.

Now 9 months later, when shit in life is getting real, you aren’t brave enough to take a chance and say yes to love. I will not carry bittnerness in my heart. I have no room. My life is short. I will not harbor animosity. You’ve helped support me as a friend. You’ve exemplified true and unconditional friendship. I honor you and will respect you, in this moment and in the future. and communicate in a friendly tone. I need time to accept reality, the loss of a dream of our future together and to grieve. With some time and processing, my heart will start to heal and to accept that we will never be life partners. The dream of our future has escaped us before it even flourished. We never got to realize our potential. I will carry love in my heart. No room for bitterness, resentment or hatred. We will not walk this journey together through life.

[gingerandwry]

Salvador, Brazil

The day I left Brasilia for Salvador marked five weeks in Brazil (and fourteen of the past seventeen spent on the road). I was losing steam. Constantly packing and unpacking, always being a guest in someone else’s apartment, being alone nearly all the time, stifled by high temperatures and humidity and, I think more than anything else, not being able to speak the language were all taking a toll. I wanted to make the most of my time in Salvador, which everyone told me is a special place I would love, but I also started counting the days until I would be home.

In fact I was lucky to make it out of Brasilia at all. Months earlier I booked a flight on the budget airline Avianca. A few weeks before the flight they emailed me about a change, but the email only showed a different flight number. When I checked on the flight a few days ahead of time, I discovered my original flight had been canceled, and I had been rebooked on to an itinerary with a layover. At least it only added an hour of travel time, and I may have been lucky. It turns out Avianca was teetering on bankruptcy and had canceled 2,000 flights in the last two weeks of April since they were unable to pay the leases on their planes and airport slots. That might explain why on the first leg of my flight we were served only water and muffins and on the second leg the flight attendants didn’t even come through the aisle (tho it was only 45 minutes). They seemed pretty unhappy in general.

My Uber ride to the city was a bit surreal. When I planned this trip I forgot about Holy Week, and I arrived on Good Friday, a national holiday. I thought that Easter in a Catholic country might include some unusual parades or festivals, but it turns out most people go home to their families that weekend. So as I drove through the city in the middle of a Friday afternoon it was eerily quiet and deserted. I was already nervous since many people had warned me to be careful since crime was rife (even more so than everywhere else in Brazil). And I knew the area I was staying in, Centro, could be dicey, especially at night, but it sounds like everywhere in Salvador is dicey so there weren’t any great options. In any event, the crumbling buildings, stray dogs, abundant trash, closed shops and streets mostly devoid of people (except some layabouts) all added to my sense of unease.

I was staying on a public square, Largo Dois de Julho, which hosts a number of businesses, so that felt reassuring. Most were closed but I did find a couple open restaurants. I was scared of venturing further, and I didn’t want to take an Uber to a restaurant only to discover it was closed for the holiday, so I stayed close to home my first Friday night. Fortunately just two blocks away was Bar Ancora do Marujo, a truly tragic drag show dive. Bizarrely the show started with “Bye Bye Birdie”, and I must have been the only person to recognize it in the mostly young, entirely Brazilian crowd. I appreciated the obscurity but the show did not improve. I spent most of the night chatting with a friendly guy and his drunken friend who talked a lot of shit (especially about Argentinians).

On Saturday it felt like some life had been restored to the city. I was tired from lack of sleep, humid heat and homesicknesses, but was determined to press on. I headed south on (I think) the city’s main thoroughfare, Sete de Septembre. Centro soon passed into Vittoria, a much nicer (i.e. wealthier) neighborhood with lovely tree-canopied streets. There was not much to look at besides walled-off high-rises and the occasional colonial mansion. The road eventually dipped down into Barra, the city’s most popular beach. The coastline is dotted with numerous outcroppings, and Barra is marked by three forts, one still in use, one in a state of glamorous decay and one that has been restored into the Museu Nautico da Bahia, famed for its lighthouse, the Farol da Barra. The street above the beach has been made pedestrian-only and that afternoon the whole area was full of sunbathers, vendors and on-lookers like me.

Taking in the views, I meandered my way over to the museum, a history of Bahia’s relationship to the sea, full of historical displays (presented in English too!), curious artifacts and ship models. (It also exhibits some of the remnants of a famous shipwreck that was only salvaged about fifteen years ago.) I’m not a maritime aficionado, but still found all of it interesting. I especially enjoyed the restored fortress that houses the museum and lighthouse (which you can climb to the top of) as well as the fabulous views they offer.

There is not much else to do in Barra, so I bought some beer and acaraje and sat on the beach for a while. I later repositioned myself to the bay side for sunset. Salvador sits at the mouth of the very large Todos Os Santos Bay, whose mouth opens south on to the Atlantic ocean. The city is on the east side of the mouth, which makes it the only place in Brazil where you can watch the sunset on the “ocean” (actually it’s setting over the bay and behind Ilha De Itaparica, a large island, but the effect is the same). After soaking in the beautiful sunset, I left the increasingly revelrous crowds to buy some groceries and go home for an early, restful night.

Sunday was Easter, and I did not know what to expect, except that most businesses would be closed. After a leisurely start, I walked down to the waterfront and over to the Mercado Modelo, once a Customs House that stored slaves awaiting auction, now a large marketplace full of stalls selling touristy tchotchkes. I breezed through then crossed the street to the famed Elevador Lacerda, a couple Art Deco towers holding four elevators that whisk passengers from the waterfront up the hill to the Pelourinho neighborhood, for just R$0.15 (US$0.04) a ride. I really don’t understand why this is such a big deal, even highly recommended by Lonely Planet. Yes it serves a helpful function, and the views from the lookout at the top are magnificent. But inside it’s just a metal elevator with no windows. The top of the structure juts out of the cliffside but its views are spoiled by tiny window frames and dirty glass. I’m glad the elevator was there so I didn’t have to walk, but it’s hardly an attraction in itself.

Pelourinho is Salvador’s most famous, tourist-friendly neighborhood. I was planning to spend Monday there (figuring more places would be open and fewer tourists would be about), but I figured I would get a sneak peek the day before. It’s also full of churches, so I thought I might catch some Easter celebrations but alas I did not. After a tasty lunch at Bar Zulu (my first salad in ages), I visited two of the local churches, side-by-side and competing for opulence. The first was Igreja da Ordem Terceira Secular de Sao Francisco. Bucking the national trend, the exterior is extremely ornate while the interior is (relatively) subdued. Visitors can tour the rest of the complex, which includes a creepy crypt and some deeply disturbing portrayals of Jesus suffering. Not to be outdone, next door is the Igreja e Convento de Sao Francisco, a decadent Rococo stunner covered in gilded embellishments and Portuguese tiles (tho its exterior is a fairly modest Neoclassical facade). I decided to save the rest of Pelourinho for the next day, so after snapping a few more pics in the light of the setting sun, I headed back down the hill to my apartment (before it got dark and scary).

What a difference a (working) day makes. When I looked out my window Monday morning, the city seemed to have returned to normal. My AirBnB was on Largo Dois de Julho, and it was bustling with shops and street vendors, and the streets were densely packed with shoppers and pedestrians. I made my way up the hill back to Pelourinho. It’s a very charming, pretty area of narrow cobblestone streets, scenic plazas, historic churches and small colonial-era homes, mostly restored in the last twenty years. It encompasses several paradoxes that made it hard for me to settle on my feelings toward the place.

The word Pelourinho translates as “pillory” (”a wooden framework with holes for the head and hands, in which an offender was imprisoned and exposed to public abuse” aka the stocks). And indeed slaves were often publicly punished in the area, which is nowadays postcard-perfect and full of tourists and street performers. It was the historical center of town, and its wealth was driven by the slave trade. When slavery was banished and penniless slaves were set free in Salvador, the city went into decline as the money left. It is now a poor, often dangerous city, and Pelourinho was not “rediscovered” and cleaned up for tourists until the 1990s. Yet none of this history is visible anywhere, and slavery is only mentioned in the context of the slave church (more on that below).

My first impression of the neighborhood was that it was now pandering to tourists and had lost its character, like a post-Guiliani Times Square. But it’s more nuanced than that. For one, its character before was poor and decrepit, so it has certainly improved even if that meant losing some elements. Also there are many locals there as well. They come for the cultural spaces, performance venues and bars (tho the restaurants seem distinctly touristy). Many work in the area as was clear at lunchtime. And a few steps away will lead you to streets that look like any other, with markets, consumer goods stores, etc. that cater only to locals.

Some of the locals, however, are there just for the tourists. Pick-pocketing and panhandling are rife, and everybody is looking for a way to get your money, legitimately or otherwise. As a tall, very white guy with red hair, I felt like I had a target on my back. Every time I entered the area, I was ambushed. Some asked for money, some tried to shove some ribbons into my hand (they are a local religious emblem) so that I would buy them, some showed me their displays of trinkets and some offered food. It was nerve-wracking having random strangers lunge at me constantly or make a beeline across the street for me, especially knowing how frequent muggings are in Salvador. It’s exhausting saying “Obrigado nao” all the time. And most of these people will not accept the first “Nao” so they aggressively keep demanding, which then makes me worry how they are going to react. I quickly learned not to stand still, not to let anyone engage me in conversation and not to sit at a street-side table at a restaurant. These measures only lessen the number of encounters, and they hardly make for a pleasurable visit. (And this happens all over the city-- one of the street kids who hangs around the plaza in front of my AirBnB told me that “tourists have money”-- but Pelourinho is the most touristed area so it is most prevalent there.)

So it’s a beautiful, historic neighborhood, well-restored but white-washed, that almost looks like a section of Disneyland but which locals continue to embrace and frequent and where I enjoyed walking around but was relentlessly accosted. I have conflicting feelings about it all, but in the end, it’s still a beautiful, fun, important area that shouldn’t be missed. Pelourinho centers around four plazas, ringed by multiple churches. I began at Praca de Se, whose 400 year-old cathedral was actually torn down in 1933 and which nowadays has little to offer (except a fountain and some fenced-off remnants of the cathedral’s foundation). Next to it is Terreiro de Jesus, the biggest square that is home to the Catedral Basilica, an elegant, only-slightly-overwrought Jesuit church from the 1600s. The plaza itself looks like a wonderful gathering point for all types, but unfortunately it was walled off for construction.

I explored some of the side streets which are full of restaurants and tourist shops and made my over to Largo do Pelourinho whose slope, triangular shape and colorful old buildings make it the perfect spot for photographs. At the base of the square is the sky blue Igreja Nossa Senhora do Rosairo dos Pretos, a church built by slaves (in their spare time) over the entire 18th century (on land granted by the King of Portugal). The interior does not match the facade’s beauty, but its significance to the black population for 300 years makes it an interesting stop.

The road then continues uphill into the Carmo neighborhood, which looks similar but slightly less cute. The defining structure there is the Igreja da Ordem Terceira do Carmo, a massive church and former convent atop the hill. It too is less impressive inside tho it does offer some magnificent city views. The street continues into the Santo Antonio neighborhood which is still more run down but in a decidedly hip fashion. It is now being reclaimed by small pousadas (inns), restaurants, music stores, boutiques, etc. So far they seem to be succeeding at restoring the area and adding to its character without sacrificing its authenticity. One advantage, as I found when I stopped for a coffee at Cafelier, is that the buildings on the west side of the street are perched high on the hill so they enjoy sweeping bay views.

I wandering back to Largo Terreiro de Jesus for my last stop at the Museu Afro-Brasileiro, which is housed in the fantastic pink colonial Faculdade de Medicina building. The museum started with eight artifacts in 1972 and has since acquired an important collection of items linking African and Brazilian cultures. It is much smaller than its counterpart in Sao Paulo, but that makes it easier to focus and understand the exhibits. The undisputed highlights are the 27 stunning carved wood panels by the artist Carybe, one for each of the deities of the local Candomble religion. Feeling much better about Salvador, I walked back home for a quiet Monday night.

It was raining Tuesday morning so I started late. My first stop was the Museu de Arte Moderna housed in Solar do Unhao, a well-preserved former sugar mill and transfer station. The “museum” was underwhelming. The one exhibit occupied just one room plus a small side room with a video installation (it looked like there was an upstairs that was closed). The featured artist’s works examine colonialism’s enduring impacts. Some of the paintings were quite captivating, and nearly all had large gashes meant to resemble open wounds, which was very unsettling (as I’m sure she intended). With little to see, I did not stay long and, after walking around the marina only to discover the only restaurants were seriously over-priced, I took a car up to the Itapagipe Penninsula.

The main attraction here is the Igreja Nossa Senhora do Bonfim, the origin of the colorful ribbons that people are always trying to get me to buy. Apparently the Senhora effects miracle cures, and those ribbons grant wishes. I was pleased to see the plaza in front was undergoing a well-executed makeover that makes it a very pleasant place to hang out. Unfortunately the construction inside was still in progress so the entire altar was blocked off while the workers’ loud clangs and bangs diminished the overall effect. It’s not a particularly pretty church anyway. The only part that interested me was the Sala dos Milagres where people leave photos and even wax replicas of body parts to request cures or give thanks for successful ones. Hundreds of detached limbs hang from the ceiling. But other than that the church really is not worth the journey unless you’re very superstitious religious.

From the church I started walking west toward the bay. None of my guidebooks mentioned it, but I happened to read somewhere that a nearby lookout point offered some great views. After 20 minutes of walking I reached the coast and yet another old fort, Forte de Monte Serrat. The attempted military museum inside was falling apart, but the views around the fort were indeed fantastic. Looking to the south I saw a very serene, almost empty beach and to the north a number of small fishing boats and kids playing in the water. It struck me that this must be Salvador at its best. I walked along the beach a little then back up to the fishing area which is an outcropping called Ponta do Humaita. There is not much there: an old church (of course), a long pier, a little lighthouse and what appear to be some old military buildings. But there were kids diving in the water, locals chatting and drinking beer at the small restaurant and a few other tourists checking out the views. It’s a really nice spot, far removed from grit and/or tourist centers of the rest of the city.

That evening I headed back to Pelourinho since Lonely Planet said it comes alive on Tuesday nights after mass. There were a good number of people about, one especially crowded bar, a live band and some drumming groups, tho it did not seem like this was unusual. Still it was fun to see the area at night and sit outside eating dinner watching the band in the Cruzeiro de Sao Francisco square. I walked around a bit and ordered a large beer from the bar. But of course standing outside drinking invited the usual assault from people wanting things from me (some even asking for a sip of beer). I relented with one guy and let him tie one of those stupid ribbons on my wrist (which I realized made me look even more a target). I only had a 20 so I asked for 15 back (which I think is still pretty generous). He went to get change then came back and put a crumpled bill and more ribbons in my hand-- of course it was only 10. Another guy witnessed this and tried to do the same thing, and when I refused him, he insisted he had AIDS. Federal police from the military stand guard everywhere, but like the restaurant staffers, they do nothing to try to curb the begging. This was all too much so I went home, frustrated that I couldn’t enjoy a nice evening in the city’s prettiest area.

On Wednesday I surprised myself by waking up early to join a boat tour of the Todos Os Santos bay. It’s a large, beautiful bay with 56 islands which are mostly cloistered close to land. As a solo traveler my only option was to join a large boat with dozens of other travelers. That is not my style at all but I hoped it would be worth it. The vessel, the “Maria Mulata” (!), was full with about sixty people, but it was comfortable enough. It took 1.5 hours to reach our first stop, so in the meantime, the crew passed around fresh fruit and caipirinhas, and a jovial three-man band played music. One of my fears was that I would be pressed into small-talk with strangers all day, but it turns out that I was the only English speaker aboard so I barely talked to anyone (which grew tedious). Most passengers were Brazilians along with a few Argentinians (a standard tourist mix here). The band were working hard to create a festive atmosphere, so there was a lot of encouragement to clap and sing along. I’ve never cared for this kind of enforced enjoyment so I just smiled and tapped my feet. But sticking out as I do, the band leader quickly signaled me out and had me get up and do a silly synchronized arm waving dance. I at least showed them I have some swagger in my hips, and everyone seemed really nice so I didn’t mind. The journey was tough tho because it was all in Portuguese, and I would repeatedly get drawn into interactions where all I could do was smile and say, “Sim!”

We finally reached Ilha dos Frades, a beautiful tropical nature preserve. I walked around the small accessible section, through the tiny village which was oddly buzzing with lots of construction, up to the cute little church on the hill and then down to the beach for some beer, swimming and relaxing. It was all quite nice.

After a couple hours we got back on the boat. Halfway across the bay, we encountered some engine trouble (ah... Brazil) and just sat and swayed in the waves while the band tried to keep everyone’s spirits up. After 20-30 minutes another tour boat came along and tugged us to the next stop, Ilha de Itaparica, the bay’s biggest island. There was no dock here so we had to transfer to small speed boats that carried us to shore. This stop was for lunch at a lovely restaurant/resort, but the beach in front of it was not nice at all. We did not stay long tho and soon were being ferried back to a new, bigger boat. This operation took a long time since I think we had merged with another group or two. By the time we started moving, it was getting close to sunset so we headed right back to Salvador. I think there was supposed to be another stop at a nicer beach but clearly we had run out of time. This was very frustrating, but none of the staff seemed to acknowledge it or apologize or offer some compensation, like free drinks on board. At least the ride back during sunset was wonderfully beautiful, but the tour was disappointing overall. I figured we spent just three of the eight hours on the islands. As lovely as that lunch was, they need to find a new spot that is more accessible and has a nicer beach so we could have spent the whole afternoon there.

That night I did something I almost never do: I followed The New York Times’ travel advice. I find their “36 Hours” pieces pretentious and aimed at their readers’ narcissistic desires to have a more “authentic” vacation than everyone else. They tend to ignore the things most tourists enjoy and to recommend expensive restaurants and out-of-the way spots so that their readers can feel like they’re doing something special and unique. But there is not a lot for tourists to do in Salvador and (as the NYT acknowledges) much of the city is too dangerous for tourists to explore. So I thought I would try out some of the recommendations from their article in January. Yes, they have some expensive suggestions and steer you to some far-off places, but to their credit, they start in Pelourinho, admitting that despite the tourism and aggressive tourist hunters there, it’s still the nicest part of town. And they were right about the restaurant where I ate Wednesday night, Mistura Perfeita. It’s near the center and looks like every other hole in the wall here with plastic tables and chairs setup out front, but they serve incredible lambretas (clams cooked in an oniony broth) and delicious caipirinhas in a a wide variety of exotic fruit flavors. And they get extra points for being the only restaurant I visited where the staff actively shoed away beggars from the outside diners. (Still, the NYT couldn’t help itself: it praises the Mouraria neighborhood as “gloriously not prettied up for visitors”, as if the writer were foolish enough to walk around the area at 8:30p when they claimed to be there.)

By Thursday I had run out of things to do so I stayed in all day and caught up on this blog. That evening I headed to Rio Vermhelo, a seaside area up the coast from Barra that’s know for its nightlife (and was also recommended by the NYT). It’s a 20-30 minute drive from the center, and it feels very apart. It’s much newer, cleaner and safer than the rest of Salvador with far fewer street people but it lacks the Afro-ness the city is known for. It’s a nice, pretty area and the only place I’ve felt entirely safe and comfortable walking around. But it feels like it could be any coastal neighborhood in Brazil or anywhere else for that matter. For locals I imagine it’s a nice escape. The focal points (besides the beach) are several plazas lined with interchangeable restaurants and countless vendors (mostly selling acaraje or tapioca). Several hosted live music. I was disappointed at how generic the restaurants are-- they’re essentially the same as all the others around the city but newer-- until I realized that Salvadoreans like generic restaurants. They just want to sit outside with their friends sharing beer and snacks, so it doesn’t matter where those come from. They like the familiar and comfortable, and I get that. As I explored the area a little more I discovered it also has some hipper, more discreet bars with DJs, live music and younger crowds (more like American bars). All in all it seems like a cool area and probably the best place for tourists to stay, despite-- or because of-- its distance from the center. Also, for the (newspaper of) record, NYT got Rio Vermelho all wrong. They recommended a bar that serves weird, sugary shot concoctions and the least interesting, most touristy plaza. Take that “36 Hours”.

Friday was another day with nothing to do (except counting the hours until my flight home). I took the Elevador down to Comerico, the waterfront neighborhood below Pelourinho. It’s one of the city’s original neighborhoods and I guess it is still the commercial center, tho it was hardly bustling. It’s full of beautiful old buildings which have mostly been left to rot. Some have masked their decay with fresh paint; others are fabulously deteriorated like ancient ruins. It’s quite a sight, especially juxtaposed with the more modern office buildings that have sprung up among them.

That evening I packed excitedly, well ready to be home. And then, somewhat unexpectedly, my last night turned out to be pretty special. I had planned to go back to Santo Antonio to Forte da Capoeira since I thought there would be a capoeira show there. But when I looked out my window, I saw the building across the street was hosting an event with drummers and dancers, so I went to check it out. It appeared to be the closing night party for a symposium on African culture in Bahia. And right in front was a group of 8-16 year-olds putting on a capoeira show. Obviously they were novices (although some had good moves) but I caught the gist, and the kids looked like they were having a really good time. I also enjoyed the variety of people that passed by to watch for a few minutes, particularly the grandmother with her baby granddaughter who loved playing with some trans women’s dogs. Dois de Julho is a gritty area but a colorful, diverse, tolerant one (like San Francisco’s Tenderloin).

Later, for the first time in Brazil, I went out to a gay club. I resisted before since I knew it would mostly be me standing around, watching, unable to talk with anyone. And that’s pretty much how it happened, but I’m still glad I went. Everyone was enjoying themselves (and others...), and it was fun and interesting to note the similarities and differences to bars back home. Then it was back to my AirBnB to sleep one last night in Brazil.

It took me a while to warm up to Salvador. Everyone said the same three things about it: one, you’re going to love it; two, it’s different from the rest of Brazil and more African; and three, be careful it’s really dangerous. When I heard this from Brazilians, I sometimes suspected two and three were code for “poor and black.” From what people had told me, I half-expected to see women carrying jugs on their heads, donkey-drawn carts jostling with cars while chickens scurried out of the way, muggers lurking in every doorway and nonstop singing, dancing and drumming. These are quarter-truths at best. Salvador is unmistakably Brazilian in its look and feel, tho many people sport more African-looking styles and behave more forwardly and loudly. While the city’s general state of disrepair shows its age, it is actively building and modernizing. Crime rates are high here, but I exercised common sense and did not encounter any problems. (There are a LOT of homeless and beggars, and they can be quite aggressive and demanding, but this is a far cry from mugging.) And while I did hear a lot of music (and firecrackers) around the city, most of it was coming out of speakers not street corner performers.

My timing was unfortunate, visiting at the fatigued end of my trip and starting on a quiet holiday weekend. Not only was the city duller than usual, the emptiness exaggerated my fears for my safety. But as the city normalized during the week and really picked up on Friday night, I started to see all its wonderful qualities and appreciate its color and vitality. Still it was hard to ignore the city’s drawbacks. Every time I went outside, I was targeted by beggars, scammers, vendors and anyone else who wants a dollar, and many of them were extremely difficult and unpleasant. When I can’t just sit outside and enjoy a beer without being harassed, it severely curtails my enjoyment of a place. Safety concerns also kept me from exploring most of the city or walking around at night, which are my favorite things to do when traveling. In Brasilia I couldn’t walk by design, in Salvador by decline.

And finally, beyond safety concerns, it’s not an easy city to be a tourist. There is not much to do (especially if you don’t care for the beach). It’s difficult-to-impossible to find information online, and when you do it’s often incorrect-- even the tourism agencies don’t have websites. (In fact I’m writing this in an otherwise very nice, contemporary, “American-style” cafe that requires a Facebook account to get on their WiFi which I do not have.) And Bahians, like much of the rest of Brazilians, do not seem to care much for outsiders. To Salvador’s credit, I saw improvement works projects all over the city-- several of them impeding my tourism-- so they are working on making it a nicer, easier place (at least the tourist areas). However I suspect it will take them decades to undo the decline of the past hundred years, and it would take a significant shift in culture and crime rates before tourists really feel welcome.

Salvador reminded me in some ways of Philadelphia, where I went to college 20 years go. Proud, defensive Philadelphians were well aware of the generally negative view of their city, and they were quick to remind me that it was the nation’s first capital. (To which I responded that New York was the second, but they seem to have moved on.) Salvador’s motto is “First Capital of Brazil” (the second capital, Rio, also seems to have moved on). Like Philadelphia, its glory days are behind it, and the city seems to be slowly decaying with pockets of revitalization. But I think that’s how the people there like it; it’s part of the city’s unique character and culture. Ultimately I am undecided on Salvador. I did not love it as much as everyone told me I would; its qualities are largely counterbalanced by its drawbacks. And I think that’s just how the locals want it.

[a-phantombones]

I’m late with these intros but they’re all made with love. Here’s an intro for Riley Hayes-Goldstein! TRIGGERS: parental abandonment, mentions of drugs and alcohol. 

MARGARET QUALLEY? No, that’s actually RILEY HAYES-GOLDSTEIN. About to begin SEVENTH YEAR, this HUFFLEPUFF student is sided with THE LIGHTNING INSURGENCY/THE NEUTRALS. SHE identifies as CIS FEMALE and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be PESSIMISTIC, RESERVED, and SARDONIC but also WITTY, INTELLIGENT, and MORALLY RESPONSIBLE.

“In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.”

LIKES & INTERESTS: Cult Classics - Movies ( Heathers, Dead Poets Society, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Buellers Day Off, Cruel Intentions, The Breakfast Club, Almost Famous ), Blue raspberry Slushies, Donuts, Judaism, Arctic Monkeys, Lana Del Rey, The Smiths, the color blue, writing poetry, e. e. cummings, art museums, greek mythology, rmemes, olling joints on her favorite books, biblical mythology, astronomy, astrology ( she finds it very entertaining in a mocking way and would never admit there’s a small part of her that enjoys it ), Star Wars, black cats, black cats named Boggart, black nail polish, tattoos, carnivals, comic books, ferris wheels, puns, the sea, jellyfish, NPR every morning, going to the beach at twilight, 4 am drives, 5am runs, spliff.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Observant, Cooperative, Strategic, Witty, Intelligent, Resilient, Responsible.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reserved, Pessimistic, Sardonic, Secretive, Curious ( it will get her into trouble ), Awkward, Suspicious.

When you meet Riley Hayes, a picturesque childhood in a picturesque suburbia is not what you would expect and yet it was exactly what she had. Born on the cusp of summer and fall, Rachel and Christopher were over the moon to have their daughter born on August 28, 1999. Finally, a child to complete the perfect family unit. Maybe they had hoped for a boy despite what science said ( hence the name Riley & a full name for a boy they had prepared ) but, they had a daughter and for the first ten years of her life they pampered her greatly. Trips to the coast every summer to visit his side of the family where Riley was praised for being such a pretty, good girl, and what seemed like infinite love from her father was doled out as long as she was what he wanted her to be. The younger girl was cooperative, it was in her nature it seemed, because she loved seeing her parents happy with each other. As long as Riley stayed within the lines, stayed within Christopher’s lines at least, everything would be well. Even when Riley started to develop a few habits and interests that were off the wall, he brushed them aside as childhood obsessions. Never could he accept his family for what they were which is exactly why he left.

The ugly truth was, Riley was an accident and the picture painted had been a lie – not that Riley knew until then. While she knew they had gotten married young she’d never known how much exactly her mother had given up to be with her father. Rachel Hayes had left her family, forsaken her religion ( as Christopher was a very religious Christian man ), the semi famous Goldstein name, and moved across the country into this suburbia all with the promise of a family. The biggest thing? Magic. When Christopher left a year before Riley entered Hogwarts school, Riley was forced to grow up and pick up the pieces of a broken lost woman who simply couldn’t find herself in the rubble that was the aftermath of her father leaving. But finding out she was an accident was the least of her worries. No matter how much poetry she wrote trying to figure out her mind, oftentimes thinking she was losing it, something within her was different, something within her felt different.

It took a few months to coax the why from her mother, and truly she was her caretaker. It wasn’t until her 11th birthday when she got the letter from Ilvermony that she realized what exactly was off. When she confronted her mother – her mother just poured everything out to her. Who Riley was, who her family was, what she was doing with her life before she met Christopher. At first, Riley couldn’t believe it – – she’d grown up hiding comics under her bed, hiding anything about the supernatural away. Even if her whole life she had felt a weird pull to these people who didn’t belong in her comics, these freaks, she never in her wildest dreams thought she was one. It all made sense though, and finally the pieces of her life started to come together. Riley knew what she had to do, so at the age of 11, she went with her mother to Wizarding NYC to try to find out more. To try to find the family her mother left behind.

After that, everything fell into place – her family was beyond accepting, even if they gave her shit, more than she’d ever knew and her mom started to get better as she become more true to herself. The family reconciled, helping Riley and Rachel move into a flat in NYC, in Chinatown. Rachel got a job at the ministry as an assistant and with the help of some family members and Riley started to prepare for school Wizarding School. She’d never been more happy in her life. New York City was her home, more than her podunk shitty town ever had, and she felt a freedom that made her wander the city, she felt a freedom to finally be herself. The only issue then? Riley wanted to go to a school far away from everything, because even if New York was her home, she needed to a break from being in the states. A break from all these people who knew who her family was & really, a place that was her own to find her own place in the world. Easily, she picked Hogwarts and was delighted when they accepted her no matter how far she was.  

For years, she pushed away a lot of the pain she felt – she figured her pain was her own, it was selfish of her to dwell on it or even think about it when she had this new fantastic life. Only in her poetry would she divulge her feelings, only her poetry knew that she felt inexplicably lost in the world the more she saw it. Before Riley was to turn 14, a boy, who claimed to be her brother showed up on her doorstep. Not soon after, her father was there looking for him. Rachel and Riley didn’t know how to process this all but one thing they knew was that they couldn’t let Ellis go back to him. Go back to his horrible environment. Seeing as Ellis was of legal age – they kicked Christopher’s ass out the door and though he tried to put up a fight, they were finally a family, Ellis included, and they fought harder. It was then that Riley wanted to distance herself from her father even more, fiercely signing and writing her last name as Hayes-Goldstein or just Goldstein when she could get away with it. 

The thing was, the reminder of her father, the reminder that he was out there ruining more people’s lives, that he was out there spawning more children really intensely messed with Riley’s head. Why wasn’t she good enough for him to stay? Why couldn’t they have been enough? It was stupid, but the thoughts started to consume her and the lost feeling just got bigger. Picking up vices like smoking, smoking pot, drinking beer like she was her own father after a long day of work, anything to escape the feeling that she didn’t really have a place in this world. Not one she could see. A loneliness she could not shake slept with her at night like any blanket did, every day felt like she was smothered. Every day there was a new realization that she didn’t know what the hell she wanted to do with her life, and that she didn’t really have a place in the world. When Kingsley Shacklebolt was murdered and the climate in the Wizarding World of England became a developing war zone, Riley wanted nothing to do with it but because of who she was -- because of what her religion reminded of her -- she couldn’t just stand idly by. Riley knew that even if she was Neutral, she would fight with her friends if need be, and give information to the Lightining Insurgency because it was the right thing to do. 

RILEY & JUDAISM:

Judaism was once a rarely talked about religion in the Hayes house, in fact, Riley knew barely anything about the religion at all. If she had realized it was taboo instead, it would’ve been something she would’ve dipped her mind into much earlier. The Hayes family were church goers, Sundays, Easter, Christmas, that was the religious practice they followed and had been since Rachel Hayes had forgone her roots in Judaism. Once she married & became Mrs. Christopher Hayes, she lost the part of her that made her her,that connected her to her family, all because of a pregnancy that was unplanned, and a marriage that needed to happen in result of it.

Once Christopher left, Riley dug up old numbers, old things, anything she could find that would bring her mother back to herself. Here, the woman gave so much of herself to her father and Riley felt she needed to get some of her back. Anything would do, anything at all. When Riley found an old Siddur, stuffed in the back of her mother’s side of the closet, she had a pretty good idea of a way to start.

It started with looking at temples. The first month, Riley’s mom drove into Bethesda, Maryland. All the two did was walk around, taking in the city itself. Taking in the fact that there were even so many people in one place as opposed to nasty Bellbrook, Virginia where they lived. Taking in people coming back synagogue, the dress, and while it was painful at first for her mom, Rachel slowly started to explain to Riley different things, different details about Judaism. Soon, Riley and Rachel learned together and go at least once a month for Saturday evening services as well as for most High Holidays.

Riley’s favorite Jewish holiday is Yom Kippur: the day of Atonement. While she knows she had absolutely no control over being born, she does feel she has a lot to atone for. A lot to cleanse from her soul. Her poetry may be fair game – it’s raw, it’s unforgiving and it’s brutal – to herself & to others. For being what she is, for being something else other than human and purposefully standing by while others cause havoc – she feels she needs to cleanse & atone for that. It’s the day that she for once feels clean, cleansed and not like the figure from Greek mythology: Atlas.

ADDITIONAL INFO:

I once called her a Memelord Shitstain. I stand by that.

If Lana Del Rey and Weird Al’ Yankovic did a duet, that would be Riley’s vibe. LOL.

Never learned how to swim really but often dreams of water and loves water a lot.

Has four and half friends, two are NPCs, one of them being her half brother, Ellis and her childhood friend Ethan. The other two are Isa Potter and Gage Hamilton. Though, Riley is open to more friends OKAY PLS she’s just bad with them 

Riley has a natural inclination towards legilimency, her first sign of magic was actually poking around someone’s mind in a grocery store and influencing them to eat a random frozen meal on accident but it’s not a developed skill in the slightest and truthfully Riley doesn’t EVER want to go into it. It’s really not developed it’s just like a fun fact. 

A PLAYLIST FOR RILEY:

How Far I’ll Go ( cover ) by Alessia Cara

Miss America by Ingrid Michaelson

If I Believe You by The 1975

We Exist by Arcade Fire

Fake You Out by Twenty One Pilots

Here by Alessia Cara

Young God by Halsey

What’s Up? by 4 Non Blondes

Stay Awake by London Grammar

Change - Lana Del Rey

[meandthemuse]

What I’ve Learned 2018 Edition

I read an essay Christmas evening and it started like this: “I have never liked Christmas. In my family, there were happy Thanksgivings and tolerable Easters, but Christmas was a holiday we failed at with real vigor.” This made me cry silent tears that were full of happiness and relevancy and immediately thank-texted my friend Julia for lending me the book the exact week I’d need to stumble upon this. (When I try to recall the name of the essay, I think it’s called “I hate Christmas” but it’s actually entitled “How to Read a Christmas Story” by Ann Patchett.) 

Reflecting on 2018 seems to serve up two major themes: stark contradictions and (mis)managed expectations. Perhaps these run parallel. Perhaps they form an intersection. Either way, these paths are here to stay and navigating them properly will determine so much of how future moments unfold.

In 2018 I cried because I missed my children and I cried because they wouldn’t leave me alone. I got huffy when bedtime routines lasted forty-five minutes and I felt alone once they were in bed. I’d get frustrated when they wouldn’t focus but I’d check twitter in the middle of a bedtime book because I knew the words and didn’t think they’d notice.

I wanted us all at the table for dinner but then milk would get spilled and someone would start crying and no glasses were raised for a toast and I just wanted it over with.

I wanted more for them and felt guilty because I could afford they have it. 

I wanted a vacation with them but never took it. 

I fought through the emotions of these contradictions, but didn’t change anything. I just kept feeling frustrated. Furious. Sometimes apathetic — the worst of all three in my opinion. And I just kept thinking these were one-off moments and it would be better next time and it wasn’t. 

Because they weren’t one-off moments. They were a million moments strung together that filled up the entirety of 2018. A million moments that fill up life itself, regardless of the year.

The expectation is that it will be better next time. 

The contradiction is that I’ve done nothing to ensure that it will. 

You can replace “children” with any number of things and the rules still apply. Expectations or assumptions cannot be met when the if this than that isn’t solved for steps in advance. I can see that clearer now. That doesn’t make it any easier.

I wanted more time with my husband but would be resentful I had to plan the time. I didn’t plan enough of the time. My expectation was that our relationship would grow stronger but the contradiction is that I didn’t invest enough time to make this happen. I invested in being frustrated, not in the actual steps toward the thing I wanted in the first place.

I wanted more time to create but filled my time with distractions.

I wanted to feel fulfilled but prioritized productivity instead.

I wanted the dog to stop eating my shoes but wouldn’t put them away when I took them off. (Five fucking pair, you guys.)

I wanted less clutter but refused to take the three full bags that had been sitting in our closet since last spring to Goodwill.

I wanted to read more but picked up my phone instead of my books.

I wanted our son to stop saying he was the best at soccer when he didn’t practice enough to say so. I barely practiced writing or shooting and who am I to mock him for his lack of modesty?

I wanted more sleep but wouldn’t lay down. I wanted time to write or shoot or read or think but wouldn’t wake up.

I wanted more time with my close friends but couldn’t seem to find the time or ask them for theirs.

I wanted my family to know how I felt and what I needed, but I wouldn’t tell them what I felt or what I needed. Sometimes I didn’t know. Most times I did.

I wanted to be spontaneous but I prioritized shrugging my shoulders instead.

I wanted things and expected I’d have them somehow but my actions contradicted the actions required to meet my own expectations. Fuck you, 2018. Because it sounds so simple when I sit down to type it out.

I have to pause to share that some of the contradictions were beautiful. 

I felt a lot of darkness carry over from 2017 and I contradicted it with color. 

I lashed out against gun laws (after writing, calling, marching, etc) with helium balloons. 

I was so moved by polka dots I allowed myself to sit for a self-portrait.

I stood witness to love — unfiltered, unrelenting, unbelievable love.

I sat with my grandfather and he didn’t know me but he knows Frank. It’s still too fresh to write about it in any other way.

I slept as poorly in 2018 as I had for the nearly three years before 2018, but I was my most rested watching my father fall asleep on my couch the Saturday night before Christmas.

I went to Paris. And I was happy. This shouldn’t be a contradiction, but I’m complicated. However, I didn’t let the guilt of going to Paris, the guilt of leaving my children again on my birthday, the guilt of living on Polk Boulevard, the guilt of having healthy children and a healthy relationship and having everything we need in life get in the way of twirling in a town square. I went to Paris and I was happy. And that’s not the last time I’ll twirl in Paris.

This is usually where I wrap things up in a bow or toss in a Fantastic Mr. Fox reference to recycling. It’s the point where I start to feel better and feel like I’ve really put last year to bed. 

But this year feels different. It doesn’t feel like last year is behind us and a new fresh one is upon us. Yesterday was Monday. Today is Tuesday. The only differing factor between yesterday and today is what I’ll choose to make different. What I’ll choose to expect and how I’ll choose to manage and meet those expectations. Because both of those inputs — the expectations and the actions, belong to me alone. This year and every year. 

So here’s to 2019. May we spill the fucking milk and raise our glasses anyway.

2017     2016     2015     2014     2013

[sydneytorome]

Where the lemons grow

My dearest friends, family and readers

 I guess I’ve officially turned into an Italian stereotype: I once again didn’t keep my promise of writing a new blogpost on time. I’ll no longer keep you waiting by writing an unnecessary long introduction, so enjoy reading part two of my Italian journey!

The first week of April started off calmly. I have the feeling all of us are a little bit stuck in a rut right now, so the general atmosphere around school wasn’t all too cheerful. Most of us were going to be on a two week Easter break starting from this weekend and the prospects of seeing friends and family again or going on a nice trip away from Rome probably didn’t help either.           With the few of us that were not flying back home over the weekend, we came up with the idea to organise a little road trip to Pescara, a sleepy beach town in Abruzzo. I was more than excited, because I really felt the need to just be on the road with good friends and ‘breathe’, away from the ever so busy streets of Rome. Quite soon, however, we figured I’d be the only one with a legal driver’s license, so I’d be the only one driving. How cool the idea may seem, I wasn’t ready yet to carry that responsibility. There goes my ‘Paper Town meets Eat, Pray, Love’ teen movie scenario.

On Tuesday, I visited the MACRO Museo d’Arte Contemporanea Roma after classes. A lot smaller and not as impressive as the MAXXI, but nevertheless an ideal way to spend a sunny afternoon!

On Wednesday, I booked a spontaneous train ticket to Montecarlo, a Tuscan town right between Firenze and Lucca to visit Allegra and her family in their Italian house from Friday to Saturday. I seriously couldn’t wait and looked forward to just get away for a while, visiting a friend and thus a little piece of ‘home’. Besides, who could say no to a weekend getaway in Tuscany?

On Thursday, we went out for dinner for Claire’s and Florence’s last dinner somewhere near the Pantheon. It’s so crazy how fast time flies – I can still remember Florence’s warm welcome when I first arrived here like it was yesterday, or I genuinely had the feeling Claire had only been here for a week instead of a full month. Florence was like my big sister here, and Claire was a whole lot of ‘woop woop’ fun. Goodbyes are never fun, especially when you’re saying goodbye to people you grew sincerely fond of.

My weekend began early, because on Friday early morning, I was already sitting on the train towards Montecarlo. The three-hour train journey was actually somehow relaxing – a cappuccino, a bottle of ice tea and my travel journal by my side, enjoying the green scenery the train kept riding by. Around lunchtime, Allegra and her cheerful mom came to pick me up at the tiny train station. I got welcomed by the entire family and got handed a glass of divine champagne made in their own fattoria as everyone was busy setting up the table on the terrace to dig into Tuscan specialities for lunch. Little to say, I was so overwhelmed by all this kindness and warmness – something you can really only find in Italy.

Allegra and I spent the day talking about everything and nothing, enjoying the splendid view over the Tuscan valley and walking around the grounds of the house until it was time for dinner. It was so heart-warming and amusing to see how they were all just chatting along and bickering about the latest news; it made me long for my own family yet made me feel so grateful that for a moment I was seen as a part of theirs.   After dinner, we drove up to the closest village that still had an open gelataria to enjoy Italy’s best dessert, gelato!

On Saturday morning; Allegra, her mom and I did some shopping in Lucca. I vaguely remembered a few streets, as I had been here with my parents a few years ago, but I had honestly forgotten how lovely and picturesque it was. We were back in Montecarlo at lunchtime and after another nice lunch on their splendid terrace, it was already time for me to head back to Rome. 

On the train ride home, I had the biggest smile on my face. I was so proud of myself, because the past two days I had seen a Marie I hadn’t realised I had the potential to be yet. I was chatty, open and enthusiastic; never feeling nervous or not at ease. Moments like these just really show how far I’ve come.       One last time; I want to thank Allegra, her parents, her grandparents, her brothers and her cousin to be so welcoming and amazingly kind. This weekend has meant the world to me.

On Sunday; I finally found the time to meet up with Nikolaas, Emma and Jens; who were here on their ‘Italy trip’ with school. They didn’t have a lot of time as their lunch break was short, but it was nice to catch up with them. Afterwards, I quickly said hi to a few of my old teachers before they started the infamous queue to get into the Colosseum. So surreal to see all of them here, in ‘my’ Rome!           After saying goodbye to everyone, I hurried to the metro station where I had met up with my friends to go to Ostia where we spent the afternoon picnicking on the beach. A Sunday well spent brings a week of content!

The second week of April already marked my last week in the A2 level, so that meant I’d have to take a level test to go into B1 by the end of the week. Fair to say I’m learning quickly! On Tuesday evening, we went to a dinner/drink/party event on a boat which was part of club called Lian. The food was surprisingly good, the drinks surprisingly cheap and we all had – not so surprisingly – a really, really good time.

On Wednesday, I basically used the free time I had to revise for my level test, which would take place the next day. So yes, EF students do study. Sometimes.

On Thursday afternoon, we explored Monti, a part of Rome right between the train station Termini and the Colosseum that’s known for its more laid-back and alternative atmosphere. We treated ourselves with some pastries and coffee before looking around some thrift shops in search of some edgy piece of clothing. No luck, but at least I had eaten a gluten free brownie, so I wasn’t complaining.

 On Friday, we got the results back from our tests, which went well for pretty much all of us. B1, baby!  As it wouldn’t make sense to have actual lessons today, the weather was nice and it was Friday; we had both our classes outside today. We did some photography activities around Piazza del Campidoglio and walked around the Ghetto Ebraico di Roma. The nice thing about doing those classes outside is that you find out so much about small, hidden spots in Rome thanks to your teachers – like a stunning rooftop terrace belonging to the Musei Capitolini and offers an incredible view over the city, yet is completely free!

After school, we walked to Villa Borghese and enjoyed the sun for a while. I still remember how wintery the park still looked the first time I went there in February, and now all the trees and bushes had blossomed, turning the park into nothing but luscious greenery.

On Saturday morning; Andrea, Valentina, Thomas and I left for Verona to spend the Easter weekend in the infamous city of Romeo and Juliet. We had our train at seven in the morning, so we got there early enough to still enjoy an entire first day in this beautiful little city. After eating lunch in our AirBnB, we immediately started to explore the city. We walked around the Arena of Verona and Piazza Bra, found our way through the bustling shopping street and made it to Casa di Giulietta. In Juliet’s House, we were overwhelmed with romantic notes everywhere along the outside walls, rusty locks, couple pictures and long-lost love letters. The museum itself wasn’t really worth it in our opinion, but at least we each got our dreamy balcony picture. Has my Romeo already arrived, though?        After enjoying a fresh fruit salad at the market at Piazza delle Erbe, we walked alongside the river for a bit until the sky coloured pitch-black and it started to rain like crazy. We had to sprint back home, but the damage had already been done: all four of us were literally soaking wet when we arrived back in our apartment. We were all so tired and just in the mood to curl up on the couch with some comfy clothes that we ended up ordering Chinese take-away. I know, it’s an Italian horror story, but we’re not gonna lie that it felt kind of nice to eat something else for a change. Besides, our apartment is so damn cosy, we just couldn’t not enjoy a nice night inside. It all made us want to start studying and have our own student dorm so badly!

On Sunday, we slept in a little before having a nice Easter breakfast. It felt weird not to celebrate Easter with our family, even though it’s normally not that special of a holiday anyway. Still, at that moment, I just wished I could be enjoying my family’s Easter brunch. Afterwards, we visited the Giardino Giusti, which was absolutely beautiful. It was so calm and peaceful, and the top of the garden granted an incredible view over Verona. It all left us speechless!

In the afternoon, we walked around Castelvecchio before enjoying the sun alongside the river. We spent some time coming up with background stories for the kids who were lazily trying to let the pebbles bounce on and over the water surface, enjoying the serenity of it all.             On the way home, we walked past a book store and decided to buy ourselves some children’s books in Italian to start reading. I opted for stories I knew all too well in my mother tongue, such as Peter Pan and Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. The nostalgia is real!  In the evening, we had dinner somewhere at Piazza delle Erbe to enjoy our last evening in Verona. Cheers!

On Easter Monday, we took our train back to Rome around noon, so we were back in the city around the late afternoon. Although we were all really happy we’d spent the busy Easter weekend outside the city, we were happy to be back. As nice as Verona is, it’s nothing compared to Rome!

On Wednesday, I had an admission interview for University College Maastricht. I had prepared it well-enough, so I wasn’t all too nervous. I suddenly felt so grown-up having to go through all these things all by myself, though! Anyway, I have a good feeling about the interview so fingers crossed!           On Thursday evening, I went to a jazz bar in Trastevere called Lettere Caffè, where each night a local jazz group hosts a small set before the actual jazz jam session starts. I love jazz, but I had never been to such a thing before, so I was completely amazed by the atmosphere and the beauty of the music. Nothing better than enjoying damn good music in the company of damn good friends. To more nights like these!

 On Friday morning, I joined an EF activity to Gelataria del Freddo Giovanni Fassi, one of the oldest and biggest gelatarie of Rome. We could take a little peek inside the kitchen where the actual ice cream magic happened as they explained us the whole process of making artisanal ice cream. Afterwards, we could all choose a cup of ice cream with three flavours. I like to call myself an ice cream expert, so trust me when I tell you guys it was one of the most delicious and flavourful ice creams I ever had.          

On the way back to school, our teacher Elisabetta got a message from one of the people that work at Fassi that someone had left their IPhone on a table. Panicking, we all checked our pockets and handbags, and I ended up being the one who had been clumsy enough to forget my phone. An ice cream brain freeze, I guess? I ran back all the way to the gelataria, where they handed me my phone back with a big grin. Yes, not my smartest move, I know. Yet I can’t help but think someone is guarding over me, ‘cause I always end up being lucky enough to find either my phone or wallet again. In the evening, we went out for dinner to celebrate Rodolfo’s (Rodolfiiiito) last evening in Rome. I wasn’t planning on going out afterwards, but a few drinks later and I ended up having one of the nicest nights!

 On Saturday, I slept in before kicking a hangover work-out and having lunch with Andrea close to our house. 

In the afternoon, I met up with Thomas to go to Villa Ada, a park a little further away from the usual city centre, but definitely worth the visit. It was packed with locals enjoying their Sunday afternoon, yet felt a lot quieter than the always-busy Villa Borghese. We spent the afternoon reading, gossiping and people-watching. Productive enough, right?   

In the evening, our hostdad Vincenzo taught Andrea and me to make our own ricotta cheese. So easy, and so damn good! 

On Sunday, it was time for another day of picnicking and tanning at the beach. This time, we hit Santa Marinella, which is a billion times more relaxed and cleaner than Ostia. I’m seriously so happy I can still go to the beach from time to time now, otherwise the Sydney withdrawal symptoms would be oh so real.

On Monday, the Easter break was officially over and the school was completely packed again. Plus, a lot of new students arrived as well, so let’s just say things got a little bit chaotic. Because there’s also a tiny lack of teachers for the amount of students EF Rome is currently hosting, they combined my B1 class with the B2 class until they will have found an adequate solution. So, as it was the first day after Easter break for a lot of us, our teacher took us on an outside activity all morning. We had to spot some clues all over Piazza Navona and the Campo Marzio area, and afterwards she told us a lot of fun and interesting facts about the buildings and statues we’d never had known otherwise! School’s hard, you guys. After class; Valentina, Thomas and I went to La Feltrinelli to start some sort of small book club. Each week, we’d get together and pick a book for us to read before the next meeting. At each meeting we’d start with discussing the previous book before choosing the next one and starting to read the first chapters out loud. A really good exercise to practice speaking and reading comprehension, and it’s a nice thing to do with friends! 

On Tuesday, we had a day off as it was La Festa Della Liberazione D’Italia. Everyone, and by everyone I mean literally everyone, was gonna go to the beach again to have a day of fun and picnicking. Even my host parents were doing something. Somehow, I woke up in the worst mood. I wasn’t up to do anything, let alone do something so social and busy. I felt like I really needed a day to myself. And so; I slept in, had a nice work out and ate breakfast in all quietness and prepared for an essay assignment I would have to take on Wednesday morning for the Hotelschool of Maastricht. In the afternoon, I took my beach towel and my book with me, and walked all the way up to the Gianicolo Hill to sit back and relax in the sun while reading and enjoying the magnificent view over the city. It felt so peaceful to just enjoy sometime being all alone, not having to talk to anyone. This was exactly what I needed to get out of the rut I felt like I was stuck in!      

On Wednesday evening, we all went out together in a club in Testaccio, a part of Rome we don’t frequent so often. We tried to change things up a little instead of always going to the same places! I was initially planning on only joining for some drinks – I was even wearing a simple pair of jeans and my oversized knitted sweater – but I ended up joining to the club as well. All in all, I had a really crazy and fun night. You always have the most fun when you least expect it!

 On Thursday evening; Valentina, Thomas and I went to The Space Cinema Moderno to watch “Famiglia all’improvviso”, the latest film with Omar Sy. It was honestly one of the nicest films I’d ever seen in a while, but maybe that’s also due to the fact that I was so happy I had not a single difficulty with watching it in Italian without subtitles! And maybe also because I literally had popcorn for dinner.

On Friday, I woke up wishing I could already press forward to the evening, because that’s when Laurine would arrive to spend my birthday weekend with me! I had been waiting for her visit for weeks and weeks now, and I couldn’t believe I’d finally see her again. It was so nice to find her waiting for me when I arrived in the bed and breakfast at night, and to be able to hug her again! I immediately started talking about everything and nothing, about all the things that had been going on here. Of course, she already knew half of those things I had been telling her, as I usually talk to her on the phone weekly. However, I just wanted to enjoy the moment I had to be actually really talking to her. Just two sisters, giggling and sleeping in the same room together, just like when we were young.

On Saturday morning, we started the day early. We had a quick, Italian-style breakfast before hitting the city. And boy, what a day it was! When I think about it, I have no clue how we ever managed to walk so much and so much in one single day. We started with the Museo Dell’Ara Pacis, where my inner Latin enthusiast marvelled at the sight of this beautiful altar dedicated to the goddess Pax and offered to Emperor Augustus. In my fifth year of high school, I’d also done a whole essay about several architectural pieces in Rome which were built in favour of Emperor Augustus, so I was pretty excited I could finally see it in real life.          

Afterwards, we walked up the Spanish Steps and visited the neighbouring Chiesa della Trinità dei Monti, where we lit a candle for Oma and Opa, our grandparents who both have passed away.      Then, we obviously couldn’t restrain ourselves to do some shopping alongside Via Borgogna and Via del Corso. Girls will be girls! Before lunch; we walked inside the Pantheon, past the Tempio di Adriano and around the Fontana di Trevi before finally ending for a break at Piazza Navona where we enjoyed a well-deserved lunch at the beautiful Vivi Bistrot. It’s an all organic restaurant that serves the yummiest dishes!

Even though I had seen all these places I had guided her through so many times, I never got bored of seeing the ‘same’ city over and over again. Even I discover new things every day, and I notice how I know much more about the city with each passing day. Maybe I could become a tour guide one day, who knows? After lunch, we bought some strawberries for dessert and ate them overlooking Largo di Torre Argentina, the forum where Caesar supposedly got murdered and is now also known as the ‘Cat Forum’, as a lot of cats seem to always hang around the area. Afterwards, we walked around Palazzo Venezia all the way along the Fori Imperiali to end up at the Colosseo. As I personally find it more impressive on the outside than on the inside, we decided to not waist our time and wait in line to get in. We continued our tour to Piazza del Campidoglio, where I showed her some secret spots from where you can marvel at the Foro Romano from above. Afterwards, we took a break on the rooftop terrace of the Musei Capitolini and snacked on freshly-cut melon and ice coffee. Surprisingly, we still had the energy to walk towards the Circo Massimo and to smell the roses in the beautiful Roseto Comunale di Roma. Last but not least, we enjoyed the view over Rome from the Giardino degli Aranci before peeking through the famous keyhole of the Buco della Serratura Priorato dei Cavalieri di Malta, where you have a special view on the Saint Peter’s dome. So, if you wanna see the best parts of Rome in a single day, call me!

In the evening, we enjoyed a really nice and relaxing dinner at Il Margutta RistorArte, that fancy vegetarian place I had already been to once. Cheers to Rome!

On Sunday, we planned on visiting the Vatican. Apparently, there was some sort of catholic gathering going on, so the entire Piazza San Pietro was closed off and we couldn’t get inside the San Pietro either. On the plus side, we did see the Pope cruise around in his Pope Mobile and we heard a tiny part of his speech! Afterwards, I thought we could probably get in the Vatican Gardens for free to walk around for a bit, but they were closed off to the public for some unknown reason. Besides, you can apparently only visit them if you have a ticket for the Vatican Museums as well, but the line to get in there was so mind-bogglingly long we didn’t even bother trying.

Instead, we walked back to the city centre to stroll around the Campo de’ Fiori morning market and have a nice lunch at Ginger, a healthy salad and panino place we usually go to during lunch breaks at school. Afterwards, we walked towards Piazza del Popolo, from where we went to visit the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna. The building itself is so impressive, and the art collection as well! Towards the late afternoon, we strolled around Villa Borghese before treating ourselves to a few scoops of the real gelato artiginale.

In the evening, on the eve of my 19th birthday, we had an apéritivo at Freni e Frizioni, a bar that used to be an old garage and is known for its buffet with all kinds of yummy, atypical Italian food from 19:00 to 22:00. We ordered an Apérol Spritz and joined the many people sitting outside with a drink in one hand and a tiny plastic plate full of food on their laps. For dinner, we went to Tonnarello, a restaurant in Trastevere that’s already been in Rome since 1876. We had to wait outside for a bit before we could get a table for two, but we did get tiny glasses of prosecco to keep ourselves busy. The food was divine, and served in cosy-looking old school pots and pans. Tonnarello’s motto? “Le persone che amano mangiare sono sempre le migliori.” We couldn’t agree more! 

After these two really intense days, both of us were so exhausted. So, we decided to go back to our bed and breakfast and fall asleep before midnight instead of staying up to see the date shift from the 30th of April to the 1st of May. One more night of being 18 for me then at least!

On Monday, I woke up, well, as a 19-year-old young adult. How crazy! It’s actually the first time I ever feel genuinely different, so it was the first time I could actually come up with a reasonable reply to the typical question “And, how does it feel to be one year older?” Because wow, it has been a year of a lifetime... I opened up my presents and cards in bed before we went out to enjoy a long breakfast at Ginger. We all know breakfast is my favourite meal of the day, so you might as well do it right! Afterwards, we returned to the Vatican again so that Laurine could at least see the Piazza San Pietro from up close. As we had already done most of the visiting (I mean, all the visiting) on Friday, today was all about relaxing and enjoying our last day together. I had the idea to go picnic on top of the Monte Mario, Rome’s highest hill, around the afternoon. A lot of people had told me it’s really nice there. Unfortunately, due to it being a national holiday in Italy, the public transport network wasn’t running very smoothly and to get there by foot, it takes quite some effort. Besides, the neighbourhood around it is quite sketchy. We both got a little frustrated at the situation and thus at each other, as we were walking around a busy road with no nice place to sit for a long time and it didn’t seem like we were gonna reach the hill anytime soon. It’s a shame I hadn’t looked it up better and that we had lost some precious time together. We decided to turn back and catch the first bus that would bring us to Villa Borghese, where we enjoyed the rest of our afternoon. We had a really fun time watching all the people and families around us, and coming up with background stories for each and every one of them. It even made us a little nostalgic!

Around 4 o’clock, we enjoyed one last drink together at a bar around Piazza del Popolo. While drinking highly-overpriced gin and tonics, I suddenly started tearing up. It felt so weird that I had to be here in Rome on my birthday, and I just wished I could be able to spend it with my friends and family at home. Although I have so many nice people around me here as well, it never ever could feel the same. But hey, I know I’ll see them all again very, very soon!

At 6 o’clock, Laurine took the taxi back to the airport, and so I was alone again. Somehow, the reunion had been less intense than the one in Sydney; because we had such an easier time keeping in touch while I was here in Rome, and maybe also because we had already learned from the previous experience of me being away for a long time. But that didn’t mean the farewell wasn’t just as hard!

On Wednesday evening, I had dinner at Juul’s apartment together with two of his Italian friends. There’s nothing better sometimes than a good pasta pesto and a glass of wine! Talking in Italian with the two girls was still way out of my league, but at least I could understand everything they were saying. And trust me, they were talking at the speed of light! Juul and I also came up with the idea to write a short story together, as we both like writing and feel like it could be a good project to work on during out free time. I’m looking forward to it!

On Thursday, we had a SPIN class outside again. This time, we had to interview random Italian tourists and ask them about fashion. Nothing all too exciting, but I did positively surprise myself by how ease it was for me to address complete strangers. A year, hell, even 6 months ago, I would have never ever seen me doing it so comfortably. Every day, I discover new parts of myself I never thought I could ever recognise myself in.          In the evening, I had my very last evening with my roommate Andrea and housemate Jemima. My parents were arriving tomorrow morning, and the girls were leaving this Saturday, so I’d have to say goodbye to them now. For me, it was especially hard to say goodbye to Andrea. She has been with me ever since I arrived here in Rome, so without her it’s not gonna feel the same to live in the house!

On Friday, I woke up extra early to work out (I had forgotten how nice it is to work out in the morning) before heading over to the hotel where my parents were waiting for me. Loaded with an extra suitcase full of winter clothes I’d send back home with them, my tiny suitcase for the weekend and a handbag, I huffed and puffed my way through the city. Although Italians are generally nice and helpful, in a touristic city like Rome you hardly find anyone who’s willing to give you a hand. I often have moments where I miss Sydney terribly, and moments like these definitely remind me of the many things I loved about that city. The friendliness, the surf, the sweet potato fries and avocado toasts; oh how I feel ‘homesick’ sometimes! I arrived at the hotel when my parents just had finished breakfast, talk about perfect time. I felt like their little girl again when the both of them hugged me really tightly the second I entered the room. It had been since September that it hadn’t been ‘just the three of us’, so we were all looking forward to this weekend together.             I surprised my mom with a leather jacket she really wanted, and she had brought some Belgian Easter chocolate with her!            After a quick catch up; we started the day by visiting the Pantheon and Fontana di Trevi, where we of course threw a little coin over our left shoulder. Afterwards, we walked passed Via Del Corso, where we did some shopping in a store both my mom and me really love. You gotta give dad some credit for his patience.         When we were done, we walked around Piazza di Spagna and along the small pavestone streets until it was time to lunch at Vivi Bistrot. We finished off our lunch with a creamy cappuccino before walking up the Spanish Steps and all the way over to Villa Borghese. We walked around the park for a while, which was surprisingly quiet for a Friday, before enjoying the view over Piazza del Popolo on the Passagiata del Pincio. Around the late afternoon, we enjoyed an ice cream while walking back to the hotel. We got ready, because around 6’o clock, we walked over the Ponte Sant’Angelo and to the Vatican. The sun was already turning a little paler, so the Piazza San Pietro was covered in a beautiful kind of glow. At 19:00, we entered the Musei Vaticani, which is only open at night on Fridays during spring. I have no words to describe how beautiful it is to walk around the few parts of the garden while the sun is slowing setting and radiating its golden light over the dome of the San Pietro. The museums itself are also breathtakingly impressive. I have never ever seen such an incredible art collection in such a majestic building! In the Capella Sistina, I could have easily been banned from ever entering the Vatican again, as I started taking a few pictures of the ceiling even though you’re strictly not allowed. Woops, my bad.

Afterwards, we headed to Trastevere to have dinner at Tonnarello. I couldn’t not take my parents to this awesome place. The end of a very lovely day!

On Saturday, we started off a rich breakfast at Coromandel, a cool place close to Piazza Navona that kind of looks like you’ve walked in into your grandmother’s house. At 10 o’clock, we had booked a bike tour that would guide us all the way through and along the Via Appia Antica, one of Rome’s most important ancient roads that led all the way to Brindisi, in the south of Italy. It might ring a bell for some of you who’ve watched Spartacus (or just have a kick-ass history knowledge), because it’s also the road where in 71 BC, 6000 slaves were crucified along the part of the road that led to Capua. In the beginning of the day, the weather wasn’t really that good. It was really humid and we often got a little rain shower. Besides, I had been feeling a little under the weather myself lately, so the biking was harder than expected. But, all along the Via Appia Antica, you come across impressive and very well-preserved remnants of old, old Rome; such as the baths of Caracalla, ancient catacombs and mausoleums. Plus, the area around the Via Appia Antica is absolutely stunning. Giant pine trees are perfectly lined up on both sides of the road, accompanied by beautiful fields filled with poppies. Around noon, the weather finally cleared up completely and we enjoyed the rest of the day biking with the sun on our face and the wind in our hair. Special thanks to our tour guide from Roma for You, by the way!

In the evening, we strolled around Via Margutta, a street known for its many art galleries and exposés. Unfortunately, this time the artists weren’t displaying their artworks, so it was unusually quiet. We found some time to pop by the Trollbeads store, a brand known for being the first to start making bracelets you could personalise with several little charms, where I bought a special edition charm dedicated to Rome: a tiny, silver Colosseum! This way, I’ll always have a little part of Rome close to me. And thanks to a friend in Australia, I’m soon getting a special edition charm dedicated to Sydney as well, representing the Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge!     Afterwards, we had a delicious cocktail and apéro at a trendy bar called Salotto 42, which literally means ‘living room’. It did have a really cosy atmosphere! We snacked on homemade sushi (it has been ages!), mini foccacie and bruschette; before going to a restaurant close to the Pantheon, but well-hidden on a tiny square, called Osteria Delle Coppelle. We scored a table outside, close to the heating lamp, and enjoyed a delightful meal. For me, personally, this has been one of the best restaurants in Rome I’ve been to! We enjoyed the special flavours of gelato at Gelateria di San Crispino for dessert, the sweetest and best way to end the day!

On Sunday morning, we had breakfast at Vivi Bistrot. Who can’t say no to a gluten free carrot cake, fruit salad and a cappuccino for breakfast?

Afterwards, we walked around Piazza Navona and the impressive church of Sant’Agnese in Agone. We made our way to Piazza Venezia and Piazza Campodoglio, where we marvelled over the views of ancient Rome before enjoying the smell of roses at the Roseto Comunale. As we didn’t have enough time to visit the Giardino degli Aranci nor the Keyhole, we immediately went to the Colosseum instead. Even though it’s probably Rome’s most touristic place, it’s definitely always gonna be one of the most impressive as well.     We headed to Monti for our last lunch together. I had read about a nice panino place, where they make original sandwiches in the shape of a flower, called Zia Rosetta. And the best part? They also make them gluten free! Sadly, it’s more of a grab and go kind of place, so we couldn’t sit there and relax comfortably. We decided to just go for a traditional trattoria, where my mom could finally have a real Italian pizza and my dad enjoyed a good plate of pasta. I, on the other hand, had to settle for a caprese salad, which wouldn’t be enough judging by the fact that I was so incredibly hungry. And knowing that I couldn’t eat the bread that comes along with it, literally made me cry. I’m not kidding. I actually started crying because I miss eating bread, because I’m so tired of having a gluten allergy while being in Italy – the land of the holy carbs – and that I don’t get why people who voluntarily stop eating gluten because they think it’s healthy and cool. Okay, in all honesty, I also started crying because I was gonna miss my parents like crazy. It’s just easier to blame the damn gluten. Eventually, my dad came with the idea for me to just go grab one of those sandwiches at Zia Rosetta while we would wait for out food, and I seriously think that sandwich may have been the best thing that has happened to me so far in 2017. Thank God for carbs!

Before heading back to the hotel, where a taxi would pick my parents up at 4 o’clock, we had one last ice cream together. An ice cream a day… When I came back home, I was all alone. It was so weird knowing that I would have no housemates for the rest of the week! Plus, the clothes I had left out to dry over the weekend were lying on my bed, still moist and smelling like cigarettes. Safe to say I had one of those “God, I wish I was home” moments.  

Monday and Tuesday were just regular school days. The weather here is getting warmer and warmed each day. I love how it just feels like summer in the beginning of May! On Tuesday afternoon, we had our second book club meeting at La Feltrinelli, where we ended up discussing our previous book for the entire afternoon instead of choosing a next one to read. Oh well, the conversation was really, really interesting. It’s nice to have such good friends with whom you can be ridiculous yet also serious with when you feel like it. In the evening, we went out for drinks to celebrate the last night of one of our friends. You always realise how much value someone adds to a group when you come to the day they’re gonna go back to their own life. It’s a funny thing, this EF bubble.

On Wednesday and Thursday, we had two Global Career Days at school. It meant we had class from 9:30 until 16:30, with lectures from Italian professionals and workshops with our own teachers in between. Although the days were long, they were really interesting and flew by in no time! One quote I heard during one of the lectures, was the following: “Italia, la terra dove crescono i limone.” The whole poetic sound and the feeling this sentence evokes, couldn’t be more accurate. I think it’s the best and most sentimental way to describe Italy. We also had longer lunch breaks, so we could enjoy our afternoons much more. 

The past 2 weeks, I’ve been having some strange and tense pains in my right foot again. I’m hoping it’s not a tendinitis again, like the one I had in my last week in Sydney. I’m trying to cut back on working out and walking, but I get so restless if I don’t do any sports. I’ve also struggled more and more with the feeling that I’m just so tired of everything here. I feel like my time to go back home has come, and I’m constantly counting the days. Let’s just hope all of this negativity blows over quickly…

On Friday evening, I met up with Juul again to go out for dinner at Mama Eat, that one place with really good gluten free pizza’s. We discussed the plot and characters of our upcoming story, but we also talked about life in general. I lately had been feeling the need to talk about a few things with a really good friends, and this night was just the perfect one for it!

On Saturday, we all fled the warmth and humidity of the city centre by going to Santa Marinella. It was the first time since Sydney that I actually swam in the sea, and boy did it feel good! I’m just as much a city gal as I am a beach bum.

On Sunday, I was planning on going to the beach again, but I got quite sunburnt on my back, so I decided to sit this one out. So, Thomas and I had lunch at the Vivi Bistrot restaurant in Villa Doria Pamphilj. Afterwards, we found ourselves a nice bench under the shadow of some trees and each enjoyed the afternoon writing. I was updating my travel journal and he was writing cards to his relatives.  A relaxing day in one of the most beautiful places in Rome!

In the evening, I finally met my new roommate, a really sweet girl from Austria. I had a really nice week with my host parents, being just the three of us, but I was happy I finally had someone with me again.

 On Monday, we finally started with a SPIN course that’s bound to prepare us for taking the CILS exam. It’s kind of like the Cambridge for the Italian language, so it’s pretty serious. I’m not taking the exam here, as I only wanna pass it at a higher level than B1-B2, but I was allowed to join the preparation course anyway. After the first class, my brain was going to explode. It’s pretty hard stuff! I’m also receiving the exercise and preparation for someone who would take it at a C1 level, even though I’m only in B1. But I have to say I’m pretty proud of myself that it’s going kind of well.   

Because we were all so tired after such an intensive lessen, our book club meeting ending up in us trying to read and understand the book we had chosen, but completely failing. Enough Italian for one day!

In the evening, we went out for drinks at Freni and Frizioni for Emma’s birthday. The temperature was still so nice, we even ended up buying our own alcohol and sitting alongside the Tevere at the Isola Tibertina. Once again, another amazing night, mainly because I keep on getting to know people in a much more different way!

On Tuesday, I did nothing more than go to class and relax at home. I was still a little tired from going out, and I wanted to prepare for my admission interview at Hotelschool Maastricht I would have the day after. Fingers crossed!

Before dinner, I did my daily work out outside on the square close to my house. At some point, a few of the toddlers that were playing around there, were starting to work out with me! I couldn’t stop smiling, that seriously was the cutest thing I had ever seen! Maybe it’s a good idea to start my own aerobics class, no?

Today, I woke up extra early to have a nice and calm morning run before I had my interview for Hotelschool Maastricht. All in all, it went really well, so let’s hope I get it! I’m really excited to finally start studying now, so I can’t wait to hear the news in a few days.   But that’s not the only thing that makes today special. Froukje, my famous roommate in Sydney, is arriving in Rome this afternoon. I’m finally go see her again! And tomorrow, Chantal, another really good friend is arriving as well. I’m so looking forward to a weekend with my Dutchies. On Saturday and Sunday, Chantal and I are even going to visit Venice together with Reina and Thomas. Safe to say I’m feeling completely energised again to make the most out of my last weeks in Rome!

 A presto!

 With love,

  Marie

[just-a-record-of-things]

April 27, 2017 – Part 2: The Wedding

So, here’s what’s been happening since my last entire.

This just continues from the last entire as I’m writing all of this after I got back to the UK: the previous one, this one and the next entire. These are the only once so far that have been written in one day.

So, after the Easter day my mum went full wedding mood. Everything she did after that was for the wedding. I didn’t know that she had been in wedding mood for a while now, she just paused for the holiday. So, from Monday till Wednesday I became the driver. I would pick up and drop of everything that my mum would need. It was a little tiring but this was a wedding, I knew I would have to work. Thursday was a pre-wedding event. This one was at our house and it was just for women. I didn’t know my mum had invited 120 people so by lunch our house was over run. People where packed, our house couldn’t handle 20 people non-the less 120, but my mum said if you cared about someone you just wanted to be around them, the space didn’t really matter. Guess she was right. We were all running around so me and my little brother didn’t have lunch till like 4. Partly it was our fault, we wanted to go out for lunch and we couldn’t do that till the work load had decreased, but as soon as it did we ran for it. We went to Sishu. An amazing burger place which was a little expensive for Addis but there is a good chance that it’s the best burger place in town so it was worth it. There I opened Pandora’s box. I started asking my little brother about school and his friends. I came to understand that 17 years old isn’t little anymore. He told me about things I wish I could forget it was traumatizing. He was no longer a kid, I knew that I just never really processed that. The more we talked the more I wanted to jump out of the car. But, I was really glad he could talk to me about this stuff, it took a little pushing now and again but he told me a lot. I could have gone another few years without knowing those things but I’m happy he trusts me enough to tell me those things.

Then without a warning it was Saturday, it was the day of the wedding. This was such a long day. We had to wake up at 4 and start our day. We ran around finishing last minute errands, I ended up having to drop from the ox meat to the hotel. Let me explain this better. See here people eat raw beef. That pretty normal but it still makes me a little queasy. But on Friday my uncle managed to get export quality beef, this meant a 500kg ox. Only thing is that so that’s its fresh they had to buy the ox and do the butchering the day of the wedding. So, at 5am on Saturday day my mums brother uncle brought the butcher and they did what they had to. I couldn’t look. But by 10 am it was time for the meat to be taken to the hotel. This task feel to me because I had the pick-up that day. Me and the butcher had to carry the meet into the car and I had to take it to the hotel. The hotel was 10 minutes away so it wasn’t too bad, yet I was still a little annoyed. I wanted nothing to do with this but it was my aunt’s wedding and I was the only one that could have done it at the time. But anyway, I let it go and delivered the meat at the hotel and came back home. As soon as I got home I got dressed ( I looked hella sexy in my 3-piece suit) and I told the people that where in house that I was the one taking them to wedding and we headed out.

The day was just getting started. As soon as I got to the hotel gate the security started making a fuss of the traditional drink I was delivering to the ceremony. I told him we should talk inside after I dropped the people in the car, they were older women and shouldn’t have to get stuck in car while we talked. He agreed. I dropped the women off and as I was parking my car my dad saw me. He wasn’t happy that the drink wasn’t already delivered and being served. As I was explaining to him what was happening one of security guards come up and said “you can’t bring that in”. First thing that came to me as he said that “you F***ed up man”. My dad doesn’t take kindly to “you can’t”. It can be anything, he hates it when people say it, especially if they don’t know what they are talking about. So as soon as he heard that my dad lost it, turned around and screamed “Really? And you are going to stop me? STOP ME.” I knew what was happening so I handed over the car keys and took a few steps back. Poor security guard didn’t know what he had done. He started to talk but I didn’t hear a word he said I was more focused on my dad jumping into the car. As soon as the guard saw this he turned to me and said “is what he doing right? This is not what supposed to happed. Let me explain to you..” I cut him off. I smirked. I wasn’t stupid, I’m not going anywhere close to my dad. I said “I’m only the driver, I don’t know anything”. This poor security guard kept digging a hole for himself, he turned around to my dad and screamed “Sir, do not move! Don’t move this car. You can’t bring this drink into this place.” I just stepped away. There was no way my dad was going to listen. He started the engine of the car, turned around and said, “Stop me and I will have you fired” and drove to the back of the hotel. I just walked away. I knew that we had already talked to the mangers about the drink. It had already been paid for and been allowed. And what’s worse was that the manger was close friend to the family. My dad has known him for years. The security guard didn’t know that, and I didn’t know how to tell him that, plus the wedding had my dad stressed so this poor guy just happened to poke the bear. Later, he saw me walking around and called me to talk me. He said the cutes dumbest thing ever, he looked straight at me as said “Just because he is wearing a suit he thinks he is better than me? I have a suit too. I’m just not wearing it. He has no respect.” I smiled and walked away.  I was thinking to myself “Really? If only he knew the things I did. My dad was just annoyed. You’re lucky he wasn’t really mad” and I went on with my day.

This is when the wedding takes a left turn for me. For the first 3 hours of the wedding I oversaw the plates at the buffet. Like every close family member, I had to work to make the day pass smoothly. I had to count and make sure the catering staff don’t charge us extra for the plates by saying we used more than we had. I stood there until 450 people finished being served and verified the plate count. Then I went up to enjoy the remainder of this wedding. Or so I thought. Maybe a half an hour after I left the buffet my mums uncle gave me another task. Take the remaining meet back home and get it refrigerated. This wasn’t a hard task, people had already loaded it on the car and there were people back home to unload and refrigerator it. But I just didn’t want to leave yet, so every time he asked I would make up an excuse: ‘car keys weren’t with me’, ‘need to tell my mum something’, ’on my way out now’. Finally, he got frustrated and told my dad. Total d**k move by the way. My dad found me and told me head out, so I did. As soon as I found the car and was about to leave, my mums uncle, same guy, asked if I could drop him o, his friends and the butchers (also his drinking buddies) off at their neighborhood. I hated this. I knew that this meant I was going to miss the ending of the wedding but I couldn’t say no, my dad had asked me to do this. This made me so angry, and when I get angry and don’t have a way to let it out I get teary and start to shake. The whole ride back my face was just full of tears and me randomly cursing things out. I couldn’t believe I came here for the wedding and ended up missing it.

To make things worse 50m from my house the neighbors had blocked the road for a party and they were cleaning up. I couldn’t handle it. I just wanted to get home and let this day be over.  While I was waiting for the neighbors to move the chairs and let me pass another neighbor comes up to talk to me. He is an old retired man that used to be cornel in the army. He is a very chatty neighbor and I’m sure doesn’t have couch at home because he always just standing outside his door, every time I leave the house he is there waving.   Anyway, he was so drunk that night he was just talking shit. He came and told me that “I could not pass” he said to leave my car here and go. I was not in the mood for this bullshit. He kept saying things I wasn’t in the mood to hear, “what if they say they won’t move it, then what? So just leave your car here and I will get people to look after it” or “you’re just being disrespectful and you sound uneducated leave the car here and go”. This drove me insane but I couldn’t say anything, he was an old man and worse my parents neighbor. After 10 minutes of this crap, his daughter come out and took him away and apologized on his behalf. I didn’t really care for it, I wasn’t mad at him I just didn’t want to talk to him.

Finally, I got home, I was the first one in. A few minutes later my mum, dad and little brother followed. And then just like that all that pent-up anger bubbled up. I started getting teary and shaking. Told them what happened and told them I never wanted to see or hear from my mum’s uncle again. I was so furies I said if he ever asks me to do anything for him again I would hit him. Big mistake. As I said this everyone else walked in. My uncles, my aunt and bunch of other family members. They had heard enough for it to have made sense. They were not happy with me. My uncles took me to my room and talked to me for an hour. They told me how this uncle ( my mums uncle I had to drop off) was d**k, but only to the people he loves. They told me how he would never, even if his life depended on it, ask his niece and nephews (my mums cousins) for anything. They kept talking about how he spoke highly of me and my brother and that he only did this because he loved us. Not going lie at this point I wanted to say, “that’s what someone that being abused tells themselves to make themselves feel better” but I wasn’t stupid. I just smiled and nodded. I didn’t know which parts of what they were saying was true and which parts where the lie you tell someone to calm them down. It didn’t really matter. Most of what I had said was just because I was angry. I am not really going to hit a family member, non-the less a family member that is in his late 50-60’s not sure. But I did learn something about everyone that day. The family really took care of one another. The way they described him, all of them hated him. I have seen him insult and belittle them yet here they stood there arguing for him telling me to calm down and that I was wrong. The wedding was shit, but that moment opened my eyes, made me grow up of sorts.

So, after the wedding ceremony there, is two more official ceremonies left, and like whatever number more unofficial ones. I stayed for one more official one. The one on Monday, it was a dinner party, with only 150 people. And it went off without a hitch. We ate and danced and didn’t even work. The highlight of the evening was the dancing. I can’t dance our traditional dance and that’s sucks specially for this night as I couldn’t seat it out. Whenever my uncles and aunts went on me and my little brother followed. It was a sad attempt at the dance but man was it fun. I got to do the coolest thing ever (at least to me). The tradition dance is done in a big circle, but sometimes people in that big circle make smaller once and dance in them. I ended up in a smaller circle. The greatest part was that It ended up being my dad, my brother and two of my dad’s brothers, the ones that come for holidays. It felt so cool and we were all so happy, nothing else on anyone’s mind. All of us just smiling. The night went on to be awesome. Really glad I was there for this night.  

Next time I will be telling you about the flight back to the UK, don’t want one post to be too long but this one defiantly is. But what can I say.        

Anyways until the next entire.

[tauers-go-dutch]

Barcelona: Where all the sangria was had

We caught a late flight on Friday to Barcelona for a long Easter weekend. We saved Saturday as a day for exploration. We started the day with brunch, of course, and it did not disappoint. We then strolled into the main parts of town, down Las Ramblas and through the gothic quarter. It probably makes more sense to allow the photos to document our day. The day ended on the docks at La Barceloneta followed by a fancy dinner at a Spanish tapas place. I had made reservations for 8 pm and we were the first ones to the restaurant. They really do run on a different schedule in Spain!

The following is an excerpt Ryan wanted to write due to an entertaining experience while on the docks: 

After Mariah and I walked around all day, we sat down at the pier to relax. Next to us was a British family. Two young boys play with the birds as their mom and dad watched on. However, the situation became a lot more fun when the oldest brother (probably high school freshman) joined his family. He apparently really wanted to get to the Barcelona FC football (soccer) game, but is also passionate about his rests (naps). I shit you not, this kid actually recited the following monologue.  Cue cheesy, nasally stereotypical British accent: "Mother," the brother said, "we really should get back to the hotel. We need to have a proper rest before the match.  If we don't leave now, we won't have time to get dinner before the match." After a pause, he continued, "Oh, well I know. I suppose we could get a hot dog at half time." I think what sold it for me was the fact that his parents completely ignored his complaints. He must do this sort of thing all the time. I was on the floor laughing at the absurdity- it was amazing.

The park where we decided Barcelona is our new favorite place

Gaudi’s Casa Battlo

Some of all of the sangria

Barcelona’s official cathedral, The Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia. It was impossible to get a decent photo, as it was surrounded by buildings on all sides. 

Barcelona’s Arch of Triumph. Actually built for a World Fair. 

The only kind of lobster I like

View from the pier 

We got up early Sunday morning, Easter, and walked to the Hard Rock Cafe to meet up with a tour group. We hopped on a bus with some new friends from Atlanta currently living and working in Helsinki and were off to Montserrat. Now, I had heard of Montserrat several years ago and had always wanted to go after seeing the incredible photos online. I must say, it definitely lived up to expectations. Legend goes, according to our tour guide, that a black statue of the Virgin Mary was found on the mountain. The dude who stumbled upon her tried to take her down the mountain to show the village people, but she eventually got too heavy to be moved! Instead, the people decided that must be where she was meant to stay, and they built a monastery around her. Some believe it is also the location of the holy grail, and people frequently make pilgrimage to the mountain.

Anyways, we went into the chapel in time for Easter service and had the privilege of hearing the world’s oldest formal boys’ choir sing. Afterward we had the opportunity to explore the mountain. We hiked up to St. Michael’s cross and took in the incredible views of the valley before hitting up the gift shop to sample the liquors made by the monks right there on the mountain. (It was delicious. If we could have taken liquids on the flight home with us, I am certain a bottle or two would have made its way back to Amsterdam!)

View from Montserrat

Outside the monastery 

The black Virgin Mary is up there ^^^

A smaller chapel located on Montserrat

St. Michael’s Cross and the view of Montserrat from the cross(top pic).

The second half of the day was reserved for wine tasting. We had a delicious lunch on the winery grounds then had a quick tour and finally got to taste some wines. Again, delicious, and if I could have taken a bottle home I definitely would have. The area is known for its Cava, similar to Champagne, but the winery we visited actually focused more on red blends. The winery, Oller del Mas, has been owned and operated by the same family for more than 1,000 years. I was slightly disappointed not to have been the heir of that castle…

Lunch on the winery’s golf course. Montserrat in the background.

Ryan helping Sandra explain wine fermentation

Wine tasting in a castle! 

After our tasting we headed back to Barcelona, where the night was still young. Our lovely tour guide, Sandra, recommended several restaurants to us, and we chose a taco place she said was popular with young locals. Best Mexican I’ve had in eight months!

Easter Monday, which is a national holiday in most of Europe, we had a second tour lined up. This time we were going to a region called Costa Brava. I chose it because it had beautiful pictures of beaches. Ryan chose it because Game of Thrones. Win-Win!

The day started in a small town north of Barcelona called Girona, which may be the most charming place I’ve ever been. (I tried to find a good In Bruges meme to insert here, but a quick google search is not turning up a whole lot.)

We explored the old Arab bath grounds then made our way up to the city walls. We walked the length of the city, taking in the scenes from above, before heading back to our meeting point. However, not before crossing the Eiffel Bridge, or the Pont de les Peixateries Velles, and stopping for some fancy ice cream from a chef who owns the only 4-star restaurant in Catalonia. It was so good. So. Good. I don’t think I can eat Ben & Jerry’s ever again. (Those of you who know me well know that’s a lie.) But-- it was so good. I got a lavender coconut ice cream with lavender-flavored marshmallows, honeycomb and strawberries. Ryan got a silly nose-shaped popsicle.

Girona

Several Game of Thrones scenes have been filmed in Girona, including Arya’s fight and flight through the narrow passageways to escape the Waif.

Jaime Lannister climbed that tower.

Eiffel’s lesser known work, Girona’s  Pont de les Peixateries Velles

World’s best ice cream gelato. And a weird red nose. 

Then it was time to hop in the van and head towards the coast. We stopped a small town called Pals for about half an hour then ended up in a true little coast town called Palafrugell. (Basically our tour guide walked us to a shop in Pals that gives him kickbacks if his tourists shop there. He literally made us wait outside while they gave him free liquors. Oh well.)

Quick stop in Pals

Palafrugell was absolutely beautiful, but unfortunately just a bit too chilly to enjoy the beach to its full potential. We stepped into a small beachside seafood place where I made the ultimate sacrifice of giving up a meal I might actually eat in order for Ryan to have some seafood paella. With risotto and paella dishes throughout Italy and Spain, we always found that at least two people have to order for them to make it. I don’t particularly like eating meals with bright orange crustaceans involved, but I gave in and tried to eat some of the rice. Unable to get a bite without bright orange antennae stuck in my fork, I gave up and let Ryan enjoy his meal. After an hour or so exploring the little beaches, we hopped on the tour van back to Barcelona and ended the night in a cool little beer bar called CocoVail. I had some stellar tacos and sangria, while Ryan tried out some local brews and filled up on chicken wings.

How I feel about meals involving exoskeletons

Cool street art

Tuesday, our last day in town, was all about Gaudi. But first, breakfast. We went to a place called Brunch & Cake and pancakes will never be the same. I had green tea matcha pancakes with a strawberry syrup and Ryan had a waffle topped with scrambled eggs and gravy. Glorious. Then we headed to Barcelona’s top attraction, La Sagrada Familia.

Yes, we take photos of our food. 

The basilica has been under construction for more than a century, with a potential completion date of 2026. Gaudi was one of many architects to work on the church, and he died in a tram accident before it was even a quarter of the way finished. We bought extra tickets to go up one of the finished towers, and we chose the Nativity Tower. It was incredible to see workers meticulously placing tiny mosaic pieces on new construction ten feet away from statues that have been worn down by the weather for more than 100 years. I’ll let photos tell the rest.

Apologies for the photo dump here

After the basilica we headed north for Gaudi 2.0: Park Guell. Gaudi designed this park with another architect for the wealthy residents living on the hill in northern Barcelona. We spent about two hours wandering through the park and hiking behind it before making our way back down the hill.

Inside Park Guell. Gaudi lived in the house on the left for a bit. 

The entrance to Park Guell

With about two hours until we had to be at the airport, I insisted we hit up Las Ramblas again, so that I could have a second serving of that lavender coconut ice cream. The ice cream shop, called Rocambolesc, had two locations, and I wasn’t going to pass it up. We got our ice cream and strolled back to our hotel to grab our bags and head back home.

Gelato 2.0 to wrap up a wonderful trip

[lawfultruth]

Top Ten: London          

Next week I will be publishing my annual Top Ten Stories in the World of D&O for 2018. For now, over the holidays, I am posting some alternative top ten lists. Last week, I published the list of the Top Ten Places That You Might Not Think of to Visit and the Top Ten Top Travel Destinations. In putting together both of my prior travel lists, I omitted a number of cities that are at the top of everyone’s own travel destination lists. In today’s post, I am going to focus on one of those particular destination cities, one of my favorite places on the planet, the great city of London.

  I am fortunate that business takes me to London pretty regularly. I have been able to explore the city pretty extensively, including a quite a number of places not on the usual tourist itineraries. As a result, my list of top places to visit in London, set out below, is admittedly quirky. Also, there are some big obvious omissions from my list. Nobody needs me to tell them that they should visit the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, the British Museum, St. Paul’s or the National Gallery. First time visitors should be sure to visit all of those places. By leaving these obvious sites off the list, I have left a little bit of room for some other suggestions. My list is set out below. Please note the bonus top ten list below the London list.

  10. Chelsea Physic Garden: The Chelsea Physic Garden, located on the Thames River opposite Battersea Park, is a botanical garden, full of medicinal, healthful, or useful plants. The interesting displays explain how the various plants have traditionally been used to treat a variety of ailments. In late spring, the fruit trees are full of blossoms. The Garden is compact and interesting. Be sure to take a guided tour or to hire the recorded tour.

  Chelsea Physic Garden

  The guide that led my tour during my visit to the Gardens in April, Mary, was very knowledgeable about all of the plants. Here she is telling the tour group about the many stories associated with the Mandrake plant. Some of the stories are appropriate for mature audiences only. It was one of the funniest stand-up routines I have ever heard in my entire life. But because she maintained her Very Proper British Lady tone throughout, no one even cracked a smile. The garden is really interesting. I highly recommend a visit.

  9. Regent’s Park/Primrose Hill: Regent’s Park is a huge green space in the center of London; just to the North, opposite the zoo, is Primrose Hill. On a sunny day these are great areas for exploring. From the top of Primrose Hill, you can see the skyline in the city and pick out many of the landmark buildings, including the old familiar sites like St. Paul’s Cathedral and newer places, like the Shard, the Walkie-Talkie, and the Gherkin.

  Primrose Hill

    A view of The City from Primrose Hill

  8. Church of St. Martin in the Fields: St. Martin’s is located on the northeast corner of Trafalgar Square. The church, built in the early 18th century, is an interesting attractive structure, but for passersby the more interesting thing to know is that there frequently are lunchtime concerts at the church, oftentimes free of charge. In addition, many evenings during the week there are candlelight concerts in the church as well. (The concern schedule is available on the church’s website.) Attending a concert at the church is one of the great civilized pleasures available right in the middle of the city.

  Church of St. Martin in the Fields

    7. Piccadilly: Fortnam & Mason/Hatchard’s: One of the great things to do in London is to walk along Piccadilly from Green Park to Piccadilly Circus. There are a lot of interesting stores, shops, cafés, and restaurants along the way, but the high points for me are Fortnam & Mason, the royal grocery emporium, and Hatchard’s, reportedly the oldest book store in London. Browse the terrific historical book section at Hatchard’s, and then go next door to Fortnam & Mason to have tea in the Diamond Jubilee Tea Salon. Afterwards, enjoy a stroll in Green Park, just down the street.

  Inside Fortnam & Mason, decorated for Christmas

    Hatchard’s, on Piccadilly

  6. Notting Hill/ Portobello Road: Notting Hill is a great residential to the west of the city center. The main commercial thoroughfare in the neighborhood is Portobello Road. Portobello Road is lined with interesting shops, but even better than the shops themselves is the Portobello Road Market, which is held on Saturday mornings. At the market, vendors sell seemingly endless supplies of such indispensable items as buttons, boxing gloves, pocket watches, antique sewing machines, gas masks, and vintage computers. In addition there is also some other stuff that is kind of junky. The whole thing is great fun.

    5. Camden Town: Camden Town is distinctive neighborhood and shopping district. Camden also has a famous street market. At Camden Lock, on the Regent’s Canal (see below), there are a number of other markets, including in particular, Camden Lock Village and the Camden Stables Market. The market areas are full of small shops, stalls, and restaurants selling a wide variety of foods. The lively and colorful street scene in Camden is particularly interesting. Buy a cup of coffee at one of the many cafés and watch the amazing array of people walking by.

  The interesting street scene in Camden Town

    Camden Lock

    4. Regent’s Canal: The Regent’s Canal runs through London north of the central city. The most interesting stretch is the section between Primrose Hill (described above), and Camden Lock. On a sunny day, it is a quiet pleasant place to stroll. Walking along the quiet canal, it is very hard to believe you are in the middle of a gigantic city like London. The best way to enjoy the canal is to start in Regent’s Park and Primrose Hill and to pick up the canal after enjoying the view from the top of Primrose Hill, and then to stroll along the canal to Camden. A terrific way to spend a sunny morning.

  Regent’s Canal between Primrose Hill and Camden Town

  3. Greenwich: Downriver from central London is the historic and atmospheric area of Greenwich. A visit to the Royal Observatory to see and to straddle the Greenwich Meridian is of course obligatory. From the top of the Observatory Hill there are great views back to Canary Wharf and up river to The City itself. The National Maritime Musuem is particularly interesting and then back along the river is the fantastically well preserved and interesting Cutty Sark. The best way to travel to Greenwich, if you are fortunate enough to be in London during one of the warmer months, the best way to travel to Greenwich is via the Thames River Service from Embankment piers.

  A view of the Greenwich Royal Hospital and of Canary Wharf, from the Greenwich Observatory

  2. Hampton Court: Upriver from London is the interesting and historical Hampton Court Palace. The palace was originally built by Cardinal Thomas Woollsey, a protégé of King Henry VIII. As Woolsey’s fortunate changed, he gave to palace to Henry to try to curry favor. (It didn’t work.) Henry transformed it into his principal royal residence. Many of the key events during Henry’s reign took place at the palace, making the palace tour particularly interesting. The palace gardens are fantastic (especially the rose garden). By far the best way to visit Hampton Court (at least during warm months) is to take the Thames River Service from Embankment Pier – traveling to Hampton Court via the river is one of the more enjoyable things to do in London during the summer months, well worth doing even apart from the added pleasure of visiting the palace.

  Hampton Court

    Hampton Court Rose Garden

    1. Green Park/St. James’s Park: In an earlier post, I named Green Park and St. James’s Park together in my list of top ten urban parks. The gardens in St. James’s park are beautiful and afford great views of Buckingham Palace and of the Horse Guards’ barracks. Green Park is crossed by numerous wide, shady walkways leading to Piccadilly and Hyde Park. A great place to walk anytime, but particularly on a sunny afternoon.

      The Horse Guards Barracks viewed from St. James’s Park

      Green Park

  A Picture Gallery: I travel with my camera at the ready. I know from long experience that getting a good picture is as much of a matter of luck as anything else. But because I keep my camera ready, I chance on some great pictures — or at least pictures that I like. Here is a gallery of some great pictures that I have been fortunate enough to take of animals. One more way to celebrate the joys of travel.

  A heron viewed from the Waters of Leath trail in Edinburgh

      A porcupine, photographed in the woods in Northern Michigan.

    American White Pelicans are migratory birds, so they get around. Just the same, this guy is seriously lost. I took this picture on the shores of Lake Michigan, hundreds of miles away from the birds’ usual flyway west of the Mississippi River

    A big woodchuck, in the Plains of Abraham historical park above Quebec City

    A freshwater turtle, on the shores of Lake Michigan

  A barnacle goose on a roof top in the Seurasaari outdoor cultural museum on an island near Helsinki

    A leopard frog, on the beach at Lake Michigan

  Turtles sunning themselves in a pond in the Parque del Buen Retiro in Madrid

  I believe these are Egyptian Geese, photographed along the Main River in Frankfurt

    An Easter Water Dragon, spotted in the Sydney Harbor National Park

  A really frightened looking hare, just before he took off for the bushes in a city park in Helsinki

    A couple of REALLY big spiders in the Sydney Harbor National Park. The larger one is about the size of my hand. BIG.

      A great blue heron in the sunshine at St. James’s Park

  A colorful pheasant, spotted in the underbrush on Suomenlinna island, in the Helsinki harbor

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