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ladylooch · 1 year

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Loving & Leaving- Part 2

Visit the series page here.

A/N: We are going to get CHAOTIC with this one. So buckle up. 😈

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, Swearing, angsty

Word Count: 4k

The Swiss Hockey Federation awards are in the late summer. And every year, Nico begs me at the last minute to come with him. With his good looks and professional hockey career, you would think he would be able to find a true date to go with. But every year, it’s me on his arm. We skip the red carpet, as per usual, and slide into the sleek, modern event space relatively undetected. The room is stunning, decked out in the reds and whites of our national colors. The Swiss flag flies proudly around the room while various projectors showcase the latest and greatest hockey talent Switzerland has to offer.

As an event planner myself, I am quite impressed. This is an detailed, high-end event with waiters trolling the floor carrying small bites and free flutes of champagne. The full, open bar has anything you could want including expensive liquors from all over the world. The bright chandeliers twinkle in the low lighting, complimenting the live jazz music that fills the room. An air of sophistication wafts through and loud laughter rings in my ears as Nico hands me a glass of champagne.

“Thank you.” I say, bringing it to my lips as I scan the room again.

“Expecting someone?” Nico asks, watching my face.

“No.” I lie. “Admiring the details.”

“I’m going to go walk the room. You good?”

“Yeah. Take your time.” I tell him.

Anticipation buzzes in my blood, eye sweeping, looking for a certain Devil who isn’t my brother. I haven’t seen Timo since March. He’s reached out but I’ve put him off, absorbed in work and my friend group. I know he returned to Switzerland weeks ago, but he’s been in and out of the country with his family, spending precious moments with them that he doesn’t get during the season. But that doesn’t mean he’s been far from my thoughts.

I don’t see Timo, but I know he will be here. Every year for the past three years, Timo has been here. I’ve been here. The night always ends the same: frantic lips, desperate hands, and silent screams of pleasure in a nearby closet.

The one just to the left of the women’s bathroom looks like the winner this year.

The moment he arrives, my body knows. My brown eyes wander to him, drinking him in like a parched camel. He’s dressed in a Navy suit and works on buttoning his jacket again after the red carpet. He has dark, sexy stubble lining his jaw and upper lip. I want to know what that feels like between my thighs. I push out a controlled breath, feeling my core tremble as he rubs a hand along his cheek, then inspects the room. I watch him find my brother. He sees Nico alone and furrows his brow, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth. He heads right to him, extending a hand and shaking it with his easy smile. He looks good tonight. Everything about him pulls me in. I’m yearning to feel his skin, tanned from his trip to Italy, beneath my finger prints.

Nico and Timo talk for a few minutes while I watch. Timo lets out a loud laugh, head tilting back towards the ceiling. It flows through the air to me, lodging in my chest, soothing some of the missing him. Nico gestures to his left, then turns, looking right at me. I freeze as Timo’s gaze finds me. Excitement fills his face. He gives me a smile followed by a brief, friendly wave that has butterflies growing in my abdomen. When Nico turns away, Timo tosses me a wink. It’s brief. Anyone else would have missed it, but it’s been the agreement I’ve been waiting for.

Tonight, we’ll play another round of desperate roulette. Winner picks the tempo.

As the night drags on, I visit with various players, running around with my brother until I bore of the same conversation over and over again. Yes- Jersey is great. Yes, the team is getting better. Yes, its so funny how it’s become Switzerland of the West. Ha, ha, ha. Bleh. I don’t know how Nico does it. But, he’s always been sweet, charming, and attentive. It’s what makes him a great captain.

The one person we don’t go see is Timo. It’s all part of our game. When Nico and I get close, he moves along to the other side of the room. There, his gaze drags along my skin, spreading wildfire through me and an ache that I’m getting desperate for him to cure.

I’m on my third glass of champagne when I perch myself perfectly in Timo’s view. Lust fills my cheeks and lips as he strokes the glass of his drink, rubbing at the condensation while chatting with Kevin Fiala. If I close my eyes, I can imagine that same thumb rubbing against my throbbing clit. My teeth tease my lip wondering how much longer it’s going to take for him to make his move. Nico is drawing closer and closer to me again. The night is seemingly winding down after speeches and awards. I worry our time is running out.

Kevin disappears with his wife from the bar, but Timo remains. He glances over his shoulder in my direction, a small smirk tilting his lips at seeing me staring at him.

Here we go.

He pushes up, turning my way when a petite blonde with bursting cleavage intercepts him. My eyes narrow slightly. She’s ruining my night. I look towards my bother who is in conversation just to the left of me now. Shit. I contemplate how to get him further away while watching Timo from across the room. The blonde is closer now, absorbed, watching his mouth. Her fingers brush the jacket of his suit. I suddenly feel hot, but not in a good way.

It’s a different twist in my core now. Shades of green and ugly- about to rear into something I haven’t felt this intensely before.

The woman tosses her hair like she’s in a shampoo commercial, giggling at him. I jut my jaw out in irritation. She is so fake. And plastic. I bet she’s stuffed with fillers to hide from her insecurities. So unattractive. Yet… he’s looking at her like he’s interested? Is this what he picks when I’m not around? Yuck.

She calls out to the bartender who tosses her a white napkin on the bar top. She takes out her lipstick from her purse, red and deep just how I know he likes it. It’s almost the exact shade I picked tonight, just for him. She sketches what must be her number onto the napkin. Then, she places it in his hand, letting her fingers linger, taking stock of his curiosity. I stiffen, watching as she places her red lips against his cheek, then slide to his ear to whisper parting words.

My cheeks sting like he slapped me when he stuffs the napkin into his pocket. He knows I’m here, watching, and he did that? He could have tossed it on the bar. He could have let it accidentally drift to the floor from his hand. He could have not taken it at all. He should have don’t that. Instead, he’s saving it for later. My fingers almost smash the flute in my hand when I see his eyes soaking in her ass as she walks away.

And in that moment, I am decidedly done with this night.

“Can we go?” I interrupt my brother’s conversation next to me. “My feet hurt.” I point down to the black Jimmy Choos he bought for me last Christmas.

“I told you not to wear those.” He rolls his eyes. Truthfully, he doesn’t seem too disappointed at the prospect of leaving.

“You’re right as per usual.” I shrug, pacifying him so we will leave.

“I’m going to go say goodbye to Josi. I didn’t get to him earlier.” Nico hands me the valet ticket. “Have them grab the car.”

I stalk from the room before Timo can get to me. If he’s coming, I don’t know. I stopped looking when his eyeballs were glued to a sequined ass that wasn’t mine.

I’m standing at the valet podium when the man in question extends his vehicle ticket to the remaining valet. The employee walks off towards the parking lot, leaving us alone.

“Hi.” His voice is warm rolling over the bare skin of my shoulders to blanket me. One word and he makes me want to bury my face in the side of his neck.

“Hi.”

“Do I get to see you tonight?” He asks

Some fucking audacity. My eyes squint as I stare forward.

“No. But I’m sure the girl who’s number is on that napkin in your pocket is available.”

“Oooo.” He chuckles. “Careful, Em, you sound a little jealous.” I turn my icy stare on him. No words pass between us because we both know I am. “Ask nicely and I’ll come over.”

“I’m not begging for shit.” I snap back. He observes my anger, softening with his approach.

“You really don’t have to. I’m more than willing. You look so beautiful tonight.” He reaches his hand out to slide along the small of my back. His touch caresses like it belongs there. I close my eyes, jaw tightening as I resist the pull I feel to give in. “All I wanted was to be across the room with you. Be that glass you held all night.”

“Fooled me.” I snip. Damn him and his compliments.

“We were just talking.” Timo says. I turn to face him, demeanor still cold. “I’m out here with you, no?” My eyes drag along his suit jacket, stopping at the button holding it together. “I’m trying to end the night tasting the sweetest parts of you.” He reaches up, fingering the diamond stud in my ear that was a gift from him.

“I’m really not in the mood.” My teeth are tight from the tension. Timo’s fingers pause on my lobe until he slowly drops his hand back to his side.

“Why are you mad at me when I’m the one who hasn’t heard from you in months? I texted you earlier this week asking if you were going to be here and you ignored me.” His thick eyebrows pull together in annoyance. “I didn’t even know you were here until your brother told me.”

“It’s not your business where I am in the world.”

“It’s not?”

“No, you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Not by my choice.” My nostrils flare at his pointed tone.

“If I need to get crystal clear with you, I will. We’re never going to be together.”

“Yeah, because you’re fucking scared.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at me.

“No. I’m not giving up my entire life for you so that you can have all your dreams come true while I’m just your trophy wife. Staying silent and pretty is not the life for me.” I whirl my hands about. “Plus, your behavior tonight just shows how incapable you are of loving me the way I deserve. You want options and I’m not going to share you.” Even to my own ears, I sound scared and unsure of what I’m saying. Like its a bunch of rapid fire excuses to deflect from how badly I want him right now.

“Behavior? I didn’t do anything wrong.” He spits out. “You just told me I’m not your boyfriend, so why does it matter who’s number I take?” He holds his hands out to the sides exasperated. “And I never asked you to give anything up for me. You’re making this all or nothing because you’re too damn chicken to try. I told you in Jersey that I want this. You were the one who ghosted me for months.” His chest is rising and falling rapidly. “That fucking hurts, Em.”

Tears fill my eyes as I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. I peel my gaze away from him, trying to regain my composure. Footsteps fall heavily behind us belonging to my brother.

“You’re leaving too?” Nico asks Timo as he comes between us. Nico snuck up on us, but a quick glance at his lax posture makes me believe he has no idea about us.

“Uh..” Timo clears his throat, stepping back, balling his hands into fists in frustration. “Yeah, early training tomorrow.”

“Bummer. Was going to say you should come over for a drink.” I hold my breath in anticipation of Timo’s answer.

“Nah, I shouldn’t.” He says as the valet comes forward with Nico’s car. Disappointment rattles in my stomach. Even as I want the distance, telling myself I don’t need this, I crave him.

“Next time.” Nico extends his hand for Timo to shake. I begin to walk forward without acknowledging Timo.

“It was great seeing you, Emma.” I toss a look at him over my shoulder. I can see the hurt in his blue eyes. I know I should say something to keep the act up, but I can’t. Instead, I slide into the passenger seat without another word.

Nico allows the silence for a few minutes on our drive home.

“You seem upset.”

“I’m just tired.” I toss a small, appeasing smile to him. His eyes don’t leave the road, but he sighs like he doesn’t believe me.

- - -

I’m outside.

Timo’s text comes through just as I settle against my pillows to sleep. I’m utterly exhausted after such a whirlwind night. I decide to ignore him, tossing my phone onto the other pillow and turning the lamp off. Light from my screen fills my room a minute later.

Come out here or I’m coming in.

Well. Can’t have that.

I toss my covers off begrudgingly, moving as quietly as I can down to the front door. I carefully tip toe out of the house, looking down the driveway to where Timo’s car purrs in the street, somewhat hidden by the trees and bushes. As I walk further down, I can see Timo outside the car, leaning against the driver’s side tire.

“Get in the car, Em.” He says as I approach. He takes in my matching pajama set of red shorts and an old, navy t-shirt.

“No.”

“Yes.” His jaw visibly tightens at my defiance.

“Or what?”

My body shakes from the chill of the mountain air. I underestimated how cool it was without the summer sun.

“Or, I’m going to drag you back inside and fuck you so hard we wake up your brother.” Whoa, this is new.

“Shh.” I hiss, stepping forward. I glare at him as I walk around the car and put myself into the back seat. He gives me a tired look. “You didn’t say where to sit.”

“You’re being such a brat.” He rubs angrily at his forehead, mumbling under his breath as he slams his door shut. He begins to drive, weaving with the road towards a hidden park down the street from home. He tosses the car in park, then comes into the back seat with me. I stare straight ahead. “You don’t get to act like this.”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

“You’re playing games with me. You’re all jealous because I took some girl’s number, then telling me we’re never going to be together? Which one is it? It doesn’t get to be both.”

“Fine. Fuck whoever you want then.” I snap. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” He snarls, grabbing my face with his hand. “It would be fine if I was balls deep in someone else tonight?” I wince from his words and he softens his grip instantly. “I’m sorry. I’m.. so sorry. I need you to… stop doing this to me. You’re driving me crazy, baby.” My eyes close when he murmurs the pet name. I get weak when he calls me that. “Acting like you don’t care and then getting all hot and jealous. Throwing tantrums and glaring at me before your eyes go dark, silently begging me to take you right in front of your brother.” He strokes his thumb along my cheek. I wrap my hand around his neck.

“Fuck me.” I tell him this time. “Right here. Please.” The rapid change between us is fitting and he takes it in stride.

“Thought you weren’t going to beg.” He reminds me, placing kisses along my throat, working down towards my chest.

“I don’t care. I just need you.” I confess as his fingers slide up my t-shirt, skirting along the soft skin of my abdomen. “So bad.” I whimper as he sucks against my collar bone.

“I don’t have anything.” He tells me, kissing sloppily over towards my ear. He pulls me into his lap after his confession. I contemplate, knowing we both know I’m on the pill. It’s a risk- I know it is. I hesitate, pulling back to look at his face. He pauses his movements, getting soft and serious as he holds my neck. “I’m clean. I’d never do anything that would hurt you.”

I believe him. Because he looks at me like he’s in love with me and it matches the yearning in my chest for him too. He could be anywhere else right now. Instead, he chose me.

“I trust you.” I whisper. “I’m good.”

“No one since me?” He asks the thing we always ask even though it hurts. I shake my head no. “Me either.” I smile against his lips on mine.

The feeling of our bare skins connecting has electric groans coming from our lips.

“You feel so good. So fucking wet.” He moans, putting his forehead between my breasts. “I’m not going to last. Can’t.” He moans again, louder this time as I rock on him.

“Good.” I whine as he strokes my clit. He watches my face as I bounce on him, thick eyebrows pulling down in pleasure as I ride. I’m not surprised at how quickly the tension begins to leak from us.

“Baby, where should I cum?” He groans after what feels like seconds.

“Right where you are.” I plea, working my hips into him faster. I grind harder against his hand, moaning loudly when his lips work my nipple over with the right strokes. “T-T- Ah.” I sob as I come, clenching him tightly in hard pulses until he shoots ribbons inside of me. The feeling of him in my heat, leaking, has my heart constricting in my chest. It’s so intimate it aches.

“Mmm.” He moans against my breast. His hot breath dances against my wet nipple, making me tremble more in his arms. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging the strands so his head falls back into my palm. I place my mouth, wet and hungry, over his, sucking his tongue into mine. I rotate my hips, feeling him ooze more into me. “You are… incredible.” He whispers when we pull apart to gasp in air.

Our soft smooches fill the car, coming down gradually from our hasty high, savoring the taste and feel of each other.

“You deserve better than this.” He eventually speaks against my shoulder. “You should be in my bed, 800 thread count sheets hugging your beautiful curves. Or a luxury apartment building where you can look at New York City while I fuck you from behind. Not this.” He gestures to the back seat of his car, where our heads are awkwardly avoiding the roof. I turn to bury my nose into his shoulder again.

“I can’t leave my life here.” I whisper against his hot skin.

“What is here that I can’t give you? Events are everywhere.”

“I have a client base that can’t be recreated anywhere.”

“I have connections. So does your brother. We can build you something new in America. Maybe even better?” Irritation pops my bubble. Why is he pressing this again?

“You can’t just create something new that fits with what you want and think that’s payment for leaving my life behind. My answer is still the same.” I say, pushing off of him. His softening dick flops out of me quickly. I grimace at the feeling of his cum sliding out.

“Why are you arguing against everything I’m trying to do to make this work?” He asks me, holding his hands out to the side in question.

I can’t really put words together to answer him. It’s just a dreaded feeling in my soul of following someone else, somewhere else, and getting lost in their world. Never mind that I’m in love with him. I feel my body jolt at the new, inner thought and pull myself farther away from him. It’s terrifying to love someone like him. Someone that proved tonight he could have his pick of anyone else. The temptation is so much. I know enough from Nico to not want to sign up for this.

“Don’t do this.” He mutters. “Just.. sit here for a second. I want to talk.”

My afterglow has been shattered by his questions. I stretch my neck to the side, wincing at the way it tightens back up immediately under the weight of my head. He reaches out to kneed at my tense muscles, thumbs putting firm pressure where it’s needed most.

“We already talked about this earlier tonight. Why can’t you just let this be enough?” I gesture between our bodies.

“I thought you were only saying that because you were mad…” He questions.

“No. I meant it.”

“You’re not even willing to try?”

“It seems pointless.” I shrug. Unwillingly, my mind cuts out pictures of that life. City dates in New York, wearing his last name on a WAG jacket, and waking up next to him in the morning, not needing to run away. Maybe a ring.. eventually a baby or two. There’s that ache in my chest again.

Timo is silent next to me. Carefully, fingers dragging along every inch of me, he begins to pull away. First his fingers fall from around my neck. Then, he slowly moves his other hand from my bare thigh. He works himself back into his pants as I wiggle my shorts into place. The only noise between us is his belt hooking back into place.

Until…

“Emma, I can’t.” He pauses. “I can’t do this anymore.” It’s quiet and questioning, like he doesn’t want to say or mean it.

“Okay.” I pick at my thumb nail. I’ve heard this before. It never lasts.

“No, I’m serious. I love you.” The blood slows in my veins. He’s never said those words to me before and I wish it wasn’t this way. “And I can’t have only parts of you anymore. It’s not enough.” Something about his voice makes my heart drop into my stomach. Panic forces my blood to begin racing through my veins again.

He pops the back door open. Hair stands up straight on the back of my neck, jolting when the door shuts again. My body trembles as he gets into the driver’s seat. The car roars to life. I adjust my shirt back into place and tuck my hair behind my ears as he drives. I purse my lips together, looking at him in the rearview mirror. He won’t return my gaze but his flickering jaw tells me he knows I’m looking.

The house comes into view. Timo throws the car in park at the end of the driveway. The interior of the car smells like sex. I can feel my raw folds coated with his sticky seed, still remembering his thrusts. Tears poke my eyes when he refuses to meet my gaze. I have no choice but to get out of the car. Isn’t this what I want anyway? I can’t ignore the way my heart cracks when I pop the door to step out.

I turn back, expecting him to get out of the car with me. To say something else. He doesn’t. And he doesn’t wait for me to get to the house.

Instead, he drives off into the night, red tail lights blazing until they disappear into darkness.

I won’t see him again until November, under much different circumstances.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Timo Meier #Timo Meier Smut #hockey writing #New Jersey Devils #NHL fan fiction

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gretakatharinaa · 11 months

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leaving - about post-travel blues

I’ve been on five vacations this year.

Cote d’azur, Morroco tour, Berlin city trip, Italy with my mom, Mallorca with my cousin, even had a flight booked to Portugal that I couldn’t take and also still thinking of flying to Paris for a lost weekend.

In between those trips, I would either work at the city I study in or take the train to my hometown to see my friends and family.

In between those smaller trips, I would rent a car or book a train to see the extended family.

This year felt like I was sitting on a train for the most part.

The food in my fridge was either never enough or too much and gone bad because I had to leave again.

I’m never there and never here.

Wherever you are, I am not but at the same time I am and you don’t know.

I always seem to miss birthdays or have the most amazing time anywhere but at home.

And please do not pity me, which you probably wouldn’t have.

I deliberately chose to book each and every flight and my planner for next year is already full of ideas of where to travel even though it will be as draining and tiring as this year was.

Somehow, I feel like our generation - the generation of travelers - has become restless.

We fly or drive from country to country and meet so many new people, see new places, eat good and strange food, listen to music and feeling our hearts basically pounding out of our chests because the moments abroad are just so intense.

And then, you come home and have to settle back in to go to work, the gym or university.

You change your bed sheets and take a shower only to open Instagram and see a 15 second video of Brazil and beaches or Switzerland and skiing or Tokyos fast life and then, new ideas hit you, new cravings arise.

Obviously, I won’t dare to speak for everyone. All I know, is that the craving doesn’t stop.

We crave new adventures, new people, new places.

Who wouldn’t?

But the constant rush we get from traveling or social media or in general, the fast life, leaves us shallow and empty just when the front door closes and the travel bag gets dumped on the floor.

„You’re never happy because you’re always happy“

Relying solely on external experiences (like traveling) for happiness, a cycle of a fleeting high and built in emptiness might be created.

External pleasures do not ensure fulfillment, yet we don’t notice it because the high, the craving, the happiness feels so real when we’re traveling. The problem isn't its realness, because for the most part, this happiness is real.

It’s just lacking rootedness and foundation (Is that the same thing? I hate being redundant)

Now I'm not saying don’t travel, I’m saying be strong when you do.

You will become familiar with a sense of perpetual dissatisfaction and you will be swept off your feet.

You might experience the highest high there is and never return to it.

The paradox of "You're never happy because you're always happy" serves as a poignant reminder of the complexity of happiness.

While the thrill of constant movement and new experiences can undoubtedly bring joy, it is essential to recognize that sustainable happiness often requires a balance between external exploration and internal fulfillment.

Perhaps the key lies not just in the pursuit of destinations but also in cultivating a sense of depth, building meaningful connections, and finding contentment within oneself.

In embracing the ebb and flow of life, acknowledging that happiness is not a constant state but a dynamic journey, we may discover a more profound and lasting sense of fulfillment, even when the journey brings us back home.

There are a million more things I could say about this topic but I just got back home, my travel bag needs to be unpacked and I….well, I need to arrive.

#travelling #wanderlust #emptiness #restlessness #gen z culture #travelculture #dopamine #social media #craving #happiness

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kangjaehee · 2 years

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may.

alright bitches and bros lets fucking go. mystictober day 1 - favorite character.

title: may.

character(s): jaehee kang

rating: general

word count: 1848

tags: angst, grief, guilt, parental death tw, character study, inspired by she used to be mine from the waitress musical.

Jaehee set her espresso down on the table, opened her work planner, clicked her pen out. The time of the month had come once again where she looked at her life for the next month, the ever-changing, ever-approaching deadlines, the projects and trips and cancellations and meetings, and put them all in a neat, visually recognizable square calendar, and then in dedicated pages on a daily planner.

She also pulled out her tabs, which she used for a color-coordinated task system: purple for personal appointments, blue for company affairs, red for Mr. Han’s personal affairs, and yellow for events, of which there were few. There also used to be orange, for RFA matters, but that color went unused ever since Rika’s sudden leave.

Her planning system was complex and meticulous, something she’d developed and perfected over the years, and that she was quite proud of. She attributed whatever sanity she had to it; it was the reason why she wasn’t overwhelmed to the point of dysfunction by the quick pace of her environment.

She wanted to laugh. When she’d first started as Han Jumin’s assistant, knowing what that entailed, she was worried she would not be able to live up to it. Yes, she was a top student of a top five university, an early graduate of their business school, and some even named her a prodigy– but this was Han Jumin of C&R.

In the end, of course, she managed to do it, managed to pull through, like she always did. Her time management was still not flawless– she still barely had time for healthy, substantial meals, exercise, journaling, and other self-care activities that were necessary for both her physical and mental well-being– but it worked for her priority, which was her job. At least that always got done perfectly on time. And she was immensely glad for it.

Taking out a few highlighters, and opening her monthly planner (which was ZEN themed, of course, a collection of his greatest postcards from musicals and modeling shoots, each pic more majestic than the last; not very professional but it provided a necessary boost of serotonin), she got to work to get this next month sorted out.

May. Hell Note month– she should rewatch that when she has the time. The tail-end of spring, where the mid-year review had to begin its preparation to be presented in the first two weeks of June. There were a couple of office birthdays for which she had to buy gifts, a trip Mr. Han had to take to Italy, and another one to Houston.

May. It’s crazy how the year has flown by so fast. The winter was slow. Mr. Han’s ridiculous cat clothing line project had made her suffer for two weeks before being canceled abruptly once he changed his mind, some sort of grace of the heavens blessing her for once. Rika’s death anniversary came and went with a quiet chatroom. And then Zen’s new show came out, and then it was spring, and then they were here. That had been quick. She hoped the rest of the year would be the same, or at least not too heavy… not like last year, with the meerkat thing… Oh God, she was going to be 25 this year. She decided not to think about that.

May was also a month she was never exactly looking forward to. It was the month of her mother’s birthday and her father’s death. However much she tried, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad every time May rolled around.

She usually kept busy enough to distract herself, with school finals and internship paperwork, trying to not get distracted by her resurfacing grief, which was a weak spot. She could not afford the paralyzing, stifling sadness– not then, not now, not ever. She’d put it on a little chest when she was seventeen and top of her class, to keep it out of the way. But this time… it looked like it was going to be difficult.

Both dates fell on weekends. Which Saturdays weren’t exactly a day off for her– she still had to show up to the office for half the hours, but almost always wound up staying full time or more if there wasn’t another activity. Sundays, though, were completely blank. She didn’t come to the office unless it was an extreme situation, preferring to reset in whatever way she could, or get started on new projects. She wouldn’t have anything to distract her from the memory of her mother, or at least it wouldn’t be the same as being there, in the middle of activity. No amount of paperwork or emails or even musicals would be enough for her to hide.

She sighs. She knows she shouldn’t do this. She raced against her feelings and lost bitterly every time, crying at her desk late at night not knowing what to do. She always pushed through though, got over it and stood up and kept going, just like her mother had taught her to do. And she would this time too. She’d find something to cope with, find some way to let this near paralyzing grief not sedate her. She couldn’t afford that.

Briefly she sat back and wondered what her parents would think if they saw her now. Not allowing herself to feel or to even breathe lest she let her guard down. Would they even recognize her now, buried in paperwork, short hair and glasses and all? What would they think if they saw her like this, living day by day, living for the little things, focusing on what’s right in front of her to distract herself from the fact that there’s really nothing much beyond that? Would they look at her and recognize the girl they knew?

No, she realizes with a pang to her chest. They wouldn’t. The woman she was now was barely a shadow of the girl her mother knew, and only embers remained of the girl her father knew.

(She’s not too sure she remembers her well either, beyond the calm happiness she felt. It’s been twenty years).

Hell, she’s not sure she would even recognize herself. It’s been a lifetime since she was thirteen. Back then she was ambitious, driven towards great goals that she now can’t remember, oh my God she can’t remember. And now, she still has that same energy, that same capacity to endure, but it’s being applied towards simply keeping herself alive, and it’s a tragedy. It feels a little bit like a tragedy.

That girl, bright-eyed, whip-smart, and intrepid, is not here anymore. The girl that stares back in the mirror is burnt out, dissatisfied, and so very afraid.

Perhaps her mother wasn’t the only one who died in that car crash that fateful day. Whoever she used to be died too.

And it’s not an easy truth to recognize, nor something that fills her with pride. She’s angry, actually, it’s that kind of anger that claws at your stomach and makes it bleed, because this is not who her mother taught her to be. She didn’t raise Jaehee to give herself away like this. Jaehee never would’ve imagined herself giving herself away like this. But circumstances change for the worse.

And it’s true, she’s never been attention’s sweet center, never felt like the protagonist of her own life, always like a neglected side character trying with all her might to be noticed and make do. The world never had a place for people like her. She’s had to assimilate, fight for her own. And with that, came sacrifice. But, even then, she still remembers that girl, with her bright eyes, sharp wit, and kind smile.

Imperfect, but hardworking. When something didn’t work out the first time, she tried again, turning her poisonous frustration into deadly retaliation. A polar opposite to now, where she can’t afford to fall back. She was hard on herself– always has been, that’s perhaps the only constant of her entire existence, always feeling like she didn’t measure up, that she’d be knocked down and sent reeling if she didn’t sit safely at the top or near it, and never, ever allowing herself to be dragged down by her feelings. No, she had to be strong, for her mother. For herself.

(She was filled with so much fear, and so much guilt. For being so goddamn needy, so sad, so not the strong girl her mom needed her to be. She always felt so stupid for wanting love she knew she wouldn’t be able to get. And then, when she was on her own, sucked it up, because she knew no one would be able to give it.)

She never asked for help; no. Even when she needed it most, she’d figure it out on her own. She still does, although sometimes she wishes so badly to tear down her walls, reach her hand out of this wild ocean for anyone who sees it to grab it. Say hey, I am lost and don’t know for how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling into an abyss I won’t be able to come out of. I am mourning my old self more than I’ve mourned anyone. (I think I haven’t felt safe enough to be vulnerable in fifteen years.)

Because, all in all, she was a mess of contradictions: messy in the way teenagers are, yet kind; ambitious yet bad at planning-, guilty yet selfish, lonesome yet craving connection however much she denied it. All of that, mixed up and baked into a beautiful, unique cake. And now, she was just someone who had grown into a tall child, unable to recognize herself past what others needed her to be.

There was a time when she belonged to herself. That time was gone. Mom, I am sorry, I would’ve let you down, you’d never let me go this far, but I had no choice. I had no choice. I hope you can forgive me.

She’d do anything to get herself back… if she could, if it wouldn’t kill her to do so. If she had the chance, how she’d go back and change the ending, not let that girl die and her dreams be lost, not let her become this, whatever it was. Because now, there was nothing else to be done.

Silently, she prayed, and she apologized. To her mother, to her father, to herself. She prayed for a light, perhaps, something to reignite that fire in her eyes that used to belong to her.

She looked at the mint highlighter on her left, didn’t take her eyes off it, and focused all her concentration on not crying.

Oh my God, she was not about to cry over some silly, random, utterly uncalled for bout of sadness. She could not afford to waste this much time sulking in her feelings. There was a month to plan. Get it the fuck together, Jaehee.

So she chugged her coffee, swallowing her burdens deep inside her stomach, and picked up her pen.

#MM_mystictober2022 #mystictober 2022 #my stuff #my writing #kang jaehee #jaehee kang #jaehee mystic messenger #mysme jaehee #jaehee mysme #mm jaehee #mysme angst #idk how to fuckin tag this honestly #tbh a Lot of this is based on my astro hc for her #which is that she's a virgo moon #lowkey this took a Direction i was a bit shocked by... lol #anyway enjoy :)

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oftatteredwings · 1 year

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⸻ LUKE PASQUALINO. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of SORRY FOR PARTY ROCKING by lmfao, well, it describes MATTEO ‘MATTY’ DE LUCA to a tee! the thirty-one year-old, and PARTY PLANNER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more cocky or more FUN-LOVING instead? anyway, they remind me of hiding a hangover behind a pair of sunnies, a phone that never stops pinging, lazy sundays with a takeaway and the faint scent of cypress & grapevine jo malone cologne, maybe you’ll bump into them soon!

time in notting hill ; 5 years.

tw: accident, head injury, death, drugs

ABOUT.

Name: Matteo De Luca Nicknames: Matty Age: Thirty-one Date of Birth: 27th August 1991 Birthplace: Sicily, Italy Occupation: Party Planner Romantic/sexual orientation: Panromantic/pansexual

Matteo grew up as an only child in Sicily, Italy, doted on by his parents and basically running riot because they let him. It was clear from the word go that he was never going to be a quiet child.

By the time he was eight and he was making quite the same for himself ( not in a good way either ), his father had picked up a new job, which meant a move a little further north, heading to London.

He wasn’t a fan of their new home, but within the space of a year he was making more of an effort to speak fluent English and finally beginning to make friends. Unsure how to go about that at first, his birthday party turned into something that drew the kids in. Even at nine, he had big plans, plans that only got bigger by the year. It was a surprise to no one when it turned into his career after school.

When he reached high school and his later years, he very quickly became known as the one to go to if you wanted a good time. Especially so when he hit sixth form.

He also seemed to be very good at leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. Homes, school, relationships... attempted ones at least. He wasn’t too good at sticking around. The term man-whore could have been coined with Matty in mind.

Destruction became disaster when he was twenty and one party got completely out of hand, his partner at the time tripped and fell on a marble flight of stairs, splitting their head open and passing away four hours later.

He tuned out after that for a while.

Parties may have been his thing, but they were where he lost himself, intoxicated and drug fuelled, out all night long and barely ever sleeping.

It took a couple of years to find himself again. With the help of a few people he’d known during primary school that he happened to bump into again.

Now’s he’s back to full positivity, spending his days organising amazing parties for people, adults and children alike; spending his nights hopping in and out of strangers beds —- so maybe not full positivity. He doesn’t have it in him just yet to move on from what happened, at least not with his heart.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

- primary school friends that helped him out. - fwb/hook-ups/one night stands. - party clients. - good friends. - partying friends.

#✧ matty ( about )#accident tw #head injury tw #death tw #drugs tw #nothillhqintro

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lifeworksstudios · 2 years

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Destination Wedding Photography & Wedding Films in 2023

Best wedding photographers in Gurgaon Being able to share incredible, organic memories with our clients is a dream job. I believe we’d still do it even if we retired. We’re lucky. We’re grateful.

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THIS IS THE PART WHERE WE GET TO

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isabellatravelsitaly · 1 month

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Hi guys, my top travel tip for today is downloading TripIt app on your phone. It keeps all your flights, accommodation, bookings, activities all in the one place. Will alert you with any delays and directions on how to get to your destination. I found this to be an incredible tool while travelling Italy this summer!

#Italy #travel #organised #app #tips

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gotravelabbengaluru · 3 months

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Discover the Magic of Customized Holiday Packages to Europe

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Customised Europe tour packages transforms your travel dreams into reality. With a tailor-made itinerary, you can explore at your own pace, enjoy unique experiences, and create unforgettable memories. Whether you’re planning a romantic getaway, a family vacation, or a solo adventure, Europe’s endless possibilities await. So, start planning your bespoke European adventure today and discover the magic of travel without limits.

#holiday package

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bu1410 · 6 months

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Good afternoon TUMBLR - April 4th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Aksai, Kazakhstan - July 2000 - December 2001.

Part 1.

A few months after returning from Nigeria, I went to Busseto to sign the contract to go to Kazakhstan.

My son and my friend Gianluigi were with me: we spent a beautiful day having lunch under a plane tree in Roncole Verdi, right in front of the birthplace of the Great Maestro Giuseppe Verdi.

House where Giuseppe Verdi was born in October 1813

FIRST JOURNEY TO KAZAKHSTAN The trip was something unusual: an appointment at Malpensa airport with a guy called Di Meo, who would be the surveyor of the project. The destination was Uralsk, a city in the North-West of Kazakhstan. At the moment there were no direct flights, nor connections with international airlines with that city, so AGIP offers a charter that will stop in London-Stanstead before heading to Uralsk. Check-in was atypical, in the sense that there were no tickets, but just a list of passengers theground hostess receives from AGIP Company itself. This was the cause of quite a few problems, because many times the passenger's name does not appear on the list, but since the passengers were AGIP employees, they were allowed on the plane anyway. We left for London and we were about 30 Italians, all of us involved in construction activities. Eventually about 70 Britishers will board the plane at Stanstead airport: all of Planners, Contract Administrators, HSEs, Quantity Surveyors - in short, all office people, and, as I will know later, with contracts worth 20,000+ dollars/month and 28/28 rotation. Practically, the demonstration that colonialism ended on paper, but in reality it still exists and thrives today.

After an uncomfortable flight, we arrived in Uralsk early in the morning - it was early July, but it was cold like we were in February. First impact with the Kazakh border police: hats of absurd dimensions, immediately renamed ''4 seasons pizza'' - airport in pure Soviet style, with corridors and doors to enter small rooms, which have doors that lead to other corridors and other rooms. Eventually, surrounded by an excessive number of cops, we arrived in front of an agent who goes through a passenger's list and asks questions in Russian that no one can answer (but this doesn't seem to matter much to him). In the meantime other policemen are walking around us, looking at our faces very closely (perhaps to check the iris of our eyes?) sometimes whispering sentence like:

Do you have drugs with you?

The most important thing is that our names are on the list, on one of those teleprinter sheets from the past, which while we are there continues to belch out paper that accumulates folded on the ground, one sheet on top of the other. Anyone who does not appear on the list is put in a corner: this is the case of a Neapolitan from AGIP (who I later discovered was a cashier). At the threat of having him leave immediately for Italy (the charter returned with the people who had completed the shift) like a ''good Neapolitan'' he started making a Neapolitan drama. With tears and sobs, he first convinced the Kazakh cop to leave him on separate room - later an AGIP official would speak to the airport police head, to let him enter the country (among other things, the Neapolitan was in possession of a Resident Visa, so why stop him at the border?). Because from the perspective of ex-Soviet Immigration Police the policy was ''if a person is not on the list, don't let him through'' - and they respected the orders to the letter.

DI MEO NEW CELL PHONE. So Di Meo, as the project's surveyor, was given the thankless task of bringing the tools of the trade to Kazakhstan, including the latest generation T3 total station. We were then invited by police to go up to airport first floor, to complete the formalities for temporarily importing the equipment. We climbed the stairs with difficulty, loaded like mules, with luggages, staffs, backpacks etc, and after an interminable hour of signatures, countersignatures and stamps on forms strictly printed in Cyrillic, we managed to reach the AGIP bus that would take us to Aksai , about 150 km north of Uralsk. BUT..............Without surveying equipment, of course!!! Yes, because customs officers would never have missed a golden opportunity to ''snatch'' some money from foreigners who wanted to import something into their country. But Di Meo and I were simple ''employees'', so the message to report to Company management was: ''We must check the actual correspondence of the serial numbers of the equipment with those noted on the import request''. So, they said, in a couple of days send the guy of your company who deals with customs, and all the equipment will be delivered to him. The other passengers greeted us with sighs and dirty looks when, after more than an hour of waiting, we boarded the bus which immediately left for Aksai. Once seated, Di Meo said:

Well, since we have a couple of hours of travel, let's see how my new mobile phone that I got at Malpensa duty free is doing. And he started rummaging in his backpack but… no trace of the cell phone box!! He searched desperately in all numerous pockets, but nothing, the cell phone had disappeared! So we started making hypotheses like: ''when did you last see him, where did you put your backpack etc…'' The bitter conclusion was that the only moment in which someone could have put their hands in the ruckzack and stolen the phone was precisely when, in theory, it should have been safer: in the Customs Police corridor at the Airport!

But in two days I'll go back to the airport too, and then they'll hear me!! Said Di Meo........ His Kazakh adventure began in the worst possible way.

AKSAI We reached Aksai after a boring 3 hrs journey: the steppe surrounding the highway was incredibly monotonous (I think the main reason why Genghis Khan continued to ride towards the West for weeks and months was: TO SEE SOMETHING DIFFERENT OF ALL THAT YELLOW-GREEN ENDLESS EXTENSION !!) Aksai was a town of 35,000 inhabitants perfectly similar to all the other hundreds of former Soviet Union cities and towns scattered throughout the immense Ex - Empire. During 1954–1961, engineer Vitaly Lagutenko, chief planner of Moscow since 1956, designed and tested the mass-scale, industrialized construction process, relying on concrete panel plants and a quick assembly schedule. During 1961, Lagutenko's institute released the K-7 design of a prefabricated 5-story building that became typical of the khrushchevka. The khrushchevkas were cheap, and sometimes an entire building could be constructed within two weeks. Poor quality construction has since become a liability, leading Moscow to announce the Moscow Urban Renewal Initiative an effort to replace structures that ended their functional lives.of what the prefabricated condominiums that formed the so-called ''Micro-Rayon'' (Neighborhoods) should have looked like.

Whether it was Moscow, St. Petersburg, Chelyabinsk, Tomsk or Vladivostock or Crimea, the apartment blocks were ALL the same. Ground floor used as a portico, seven or eight floors, without lift (those that had one didn't work) 2 or 3-room apartments (depending on who was going to live there, and in 3-room apartments it was not uncommon for two to live different families). In the center of the neighborhood there was a mini power plant generally powered by gas, for the production of hot water which was distributed to the various users with insulated pipes above ground, sometimes making it difficult to access the condominiums themselves - for which there were iron stairs that went over the pipes. Pipes which over the years, due to the absolute lack of maintenance, lost their sheet metal insulation and rock wool because people walked on them.

Always in a central position in relation to the houses, the public gardens, made up of games for children such as slides or revolving carousels, regularly broken down, rusty and abandoned.

The appearance of the condominiums was made extremely heartbreaking by the lack of accuracy with which they had been built, by the paucity of the materials and above all by an inveterate habit that I would have found in all the cities of the former Soviet Union: that of closing the balcony with the materials more diverse! I have never seen a veranda the same as another in 7 years of Kazakhstan! And then the last big innovation introduced after independence from the Soviet Union: the possibility of opening small businesses, such as mini-shops or ''restaurants'' in your own apartment on the first floor. Since access to these shops or restaurants could not be from the common stairs, absurd stairs had been built outside the buildings, which in a single flight led from the street level to the first floor - very dangerous in winter, with ice always present on the steps. Then there was the ''old'' Aksai in the sense of a part of the city made up of that type of Russian wooden houses, surrounded by mangy gardens, the rear courtyard was often used as a ''landfill'' in the sense that the owners there they accumulated old objects (see

(even a bus) with the philosophy of 'who knows'…maybe one day it could be useful…. And the roofs of these houses are all strictly in Eternit!! Equipped with malfunctioning water systems, the winter regularly saw queues of children with wooden sleds getting water from the few public pumps that did not freeze. Another characteristic of Aksai (as of all other cities) is the gas distribution network: the 2 and a half inch pipe, yellow in colour, ran about 2-3 meters above ground, supported by improbable iron posts, in around the neighborhoods, with 3 or 4 meter portals at the entrances to the houses.

CZECH CAMP

We, the privileged foreigners, all stayed at Czech Camp, a compound built by the Czechoslovaks in 1956, made up of ''Vacta'' (two-storey wooden houses with 20 mini-apartments), offices of the companies that participated in the Karachaganak project, canteens , two clubs, and a series of terraced houses that had been built more recently. In all for around 5,000 people, and above all the only place in Aksai where there was never a shortage of water (a big problem for the city especially during winter time) . Entry to the Czech camp was regulated by strict procedures, inherited from the Soviet period. If we intended to receive a guest, he or she had to leave an identity document at the guard post and both the guest and the host had to sign the time of entry and exit in the register. And it shouldn't have been after midnight anyway. I was then assigned to Vacta 22, in a small apartment with 2 bedrooms and a bathroom, which I shared with Di Meo.

THE KARACHAGANAK PROJECT The Karachaganak project was an operation of gigantic dimensions, in which the ENI Group participated in a consortium made up of Shell, the Russians of Lukoil, British Gas, and the Japanese Impex. Later the Kazakh Kazmunaigas Company will purchase shares from all participants in the exploitation of the deposit, and will become part of the consortium. The oil reservoir, very large and productive (the Northern part was delimited by the Ural river which marked the border with Russia) was discovered in the 1950s and the Russians began to exploit it a few years later, with the decisive help of Czechoslovakian technology . There were 3 crude oil processing units - Unit 3 would have been subject to a profound revamping - Unit 2 will first be demolished (too old to think about modernization) and Unit 1 will be built ex new on the ashes of the old plant. SAIPEM, in joint venture with CCC (the Lebanese construction company owned by Arafat, for many years Sub-Contractor of SAIPEM itself) was part of the Main Works consortium, but it was quite shocking to see that in the logo of the joint venture the SAIPEM name appeared ''below'' that of CCC. I had arrived in Kazakhstan thanks to the ''recommendation'' of my old colleague and fellow in SAIPEM, Giulio Cotti. He had already been there for a few months, as Construction Manager of UNIT2. I already knew several people from SICIM since the Abu Dhabi Taweelah project: Borchia Giorgio, the Director - Mr. Secchi, Company Vice-President. Franco Pennacchia the Civil Supervisor – Mr. Cavicchi the handyman and many others. Then there were a whole series of figures that I would gradually get to know, some of them nice, some other no. Among the best was undoubtedly Remo Tamburlin, the chief mechanic: a Belluno native whose Italian speaking I struggled to understand, but he claimed to be able to speak Russian too. Carmelo Longo, Sicilian – head of pipe and carpentry installations. The two ''Engineers'' Rossi Aurelio and Cristiano were taken to gain experience and placed in the Quality office. Calogero Zinno, another Sicilian who in theory was the Construction Manager of Unit 3 but who I later replaced. Ido Presotto, Rossen Jordanov, Bulgarian with Italian passport. And then Secchi's "godson", Mentore.

UNIT 3 I was assigned to Unit 3, an old oil/gas separation plant built by the Czechoslovaks in 1956, at the dawn of exploitation of the Karachaganak field. Located about 40 km north of Aksai, we were reaching it every day with the Company's LADA NIVAs.

Basically our work consisted of revamping the Unit and that is:

Construction of a Centralized Control Room outside the perimeter of the plant.

Construction of the pipe rack and cable rack that would connect the system to the Control Room.

Laying of electro-instrumental cables and installation of control instruments within the system.

Construction of a new crude oil desulfurization unit

Construction of 4 Utilities tanks.

Assistance with the commissioning of new systems. The works themselves were not difficult to carry out, but the great difficulty consisted in having to work inside an old and dangerous rotten plant. Alarms for H2S leaks were the order of the day - it was mandatory to wear a backpack containing an oxygen bottle and a mask when entering the plant, which in the event of an emergency would have allowed around 20 minutes of survival. We had undergone a course on the dangers of H2S, and we had learned that breathing this gas for more than twenty seconds led first to fainting, and then to death.

VISIT TO BURLIN HOSPITAL One day we went to visit the hospital in Burlin, the capital of the so-called ''Oblast'' at about 40 km from Aksai. We wanted to see what type of assistance the hospital could provide in the event of illnesses or accidents. It was a sort of ''go to hell''. It was mid-August, and in addition to myself, Calogero Zinno and Franco Pennacchia were taking part in the mission. At halfway to destination we saw a sort of petrol station, so we stopped for a drink, given the heat. We asked the lady who ran the station if she had ''svezheye pivo'' (fresh beer - Zinno blurted out a few words of Russo, given his previous experience in Ufa, Russia). The lady - quite old even though assigning ages to people in Kazakhstan is certainly not an easy exercise - without saying a word takes Pennacchia by the arm, who seemed to be the most ''in shape'' and drags him into the back of the shop. After placing Franco in front to a sort of manual pump, she orders him to ''pump'' vigorously until she tells him to stop. In the meantime, both Zinno and I look on, wondering what will happen, the lady places three large empty mugs under a rubber tube sticking out of the counter. In fact, after a few seconds, the beer begins to flow from the tube and fill the mugs. Halfway through the second mug, the Lady said ''ALT…ALT…'' to Pennacchia, to prevent the beer from spilling out of the third mug. The beer wasn't bad, even if it was actually at cellar temperature. Once we arrived in Burlin, we had no difficulty finding the hospital, since we were in a small like village, and the hospital building towered over the low houses. At first glance we immediately understood that the hospital would not be of any help to us. We were received by the Head Nurse, who kindly accompanied us inside the structure - which was old and run down, with dormitories with 20 or more beds, sometimes separated by curtains. Everything very clean and with that typical smell of sawdust and disinfectant. The nurse told us that they couldn't do much there in case of accidents or illnesses of a certain severity. But the thing that really left us speechless was when Zinno asked to use the toilet, and the nurse showed him some toilets in the hospital courtyard. Zinno then asked if those were for visitors, but the nurse - visibly embarrassed - replied that they were the only services available, both for patients, for staff, and for visitors.!! What we immediately thought of was the extreme discomfort for a sick person to have to go out into a courtyard to go to the bathroom, especially in winter, when the temperature could drop to -40 C. PS: among the socially useful works carried out by AGIP during that first year, there was the complete renovation of the Aksai hospital - it was made efficient and ready for any emergency, and decent in appearance, with a total expense of over 5 million EUR.

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fifth-times-the-charm · 11 months

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November 2023

Daily Habits: *bold = doing right now - Get 7-8 hours of sleep each night - Not work on the weekends - Find a new Youtuber/TikToker to watch in any of the following: skincare, mental health, personal finance/investing, cooking/meal prepping - Get back into using Google Calendar - Spend 30 mins every week on Passion Planner - make it pretty and not scribble work on it anymore - Spend 1 hr every week finances/expenditures - Follow face routine daily and exfoliate 1x/week + mask 1x/week - Use gua sha and roller every other night - Wear makeup/dress up 1x/week - Limit time spent on Instagram/Tik Tok to less than 2 hrs/day - Wake up earlier on the weekends - Limit alcohol intake to 1x/week - Some active time 1x a week (gym or class) - Eat out 1x/week & cook a new recipe 1x/week - Drink water every morning - Be more present and a more empathetic listener (listen to understand, not to respond) - Check up on sister more - Hang out with family 1x/week - Be more conscientous about personal hygiene and building a stronger immune system

Themes of 2023: Work Smarter, Lean In to Yourself

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Nov 2023 - Clean kitchen & bathroom - Clean out closet by bedroom and bedroom - Read a book about becoming a manager - Start purging & donating - Set up water floss - Call mom 1x/week and hang w/ family every other week - Leave house 1-2x/week - Plan trips

This Year Goal (29) - Save $150K by EOY - Be more sustainable and have less food waste - New York in Dec - Taiwan in Dec - Explore locally: Tomales Bay to shuck oysters, Sonoma, Monterey, Pinnacles, Russian River, Mammoth, Paso Robles, Lake Tahoe, Sequoia, Eastern Sierras 2 Year Goals (30) - Polish resume and LinkedIn by mid-next year - Have 1 informational interview by mid-next year - Volunteer 1x by July next year - Become advanced in SQL and Tableau; learn R and Python - Start a hobby - Have $200K in savings (outside of equity in property) - Have a side hustle generating additional wealth - Either become a manager or find a higher paying Analytics job making $170-180K+ TC - Potential backpacking trip - Potential solo trip - Get engaged? Other travels: - SoCal (Feb, President's Day) - 30th Birthday - HK/Macau, Korea (May, Memorial Day) - Banff (July 4th weekend) - Denver for Rose's wedding (mid-July) - Greece/Portugal/South of France/Italy or Iceland or Washington (Labor Day, Sep) - Vietnam (Dec) - Potential: Tulum, Mexico City, Thailand, Japan

3 Year Goal (31) - Become an Analytics manager - Become a mentor to a young Asian female professional - Lasik? - Have $250K in savings (outside of equity in property) - Buy another house - Get married? 4-5 Year Goals (32-33) - Have $300K+ in total net worth - Have kids - Have out-of-state investment properties generating additional wealth

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giovannibenvenuto · 2 years

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Discover the Best of Italy with Private Tours and Chauffeur Services

Experience the ultimate luxury tours of Italy with our private tour guide and chauffeur service. From Rome to Florence, our Italy trip planner creates bespoke itineraries for an unforgettable journey.

#private italy tours #private tour guide italy #chauffeur service italy #luxury tours of italy #private tour of italy #italy trip planner

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italyluxury · 1 year

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Exploring Excellence: Unveiling the Best Italy Tour Companies

Italy is a dream destination for many, yet the experience can differ dramatically depending on how you choose to explore it. Standard, packaged tours often fall short of offering the authenticity and individual focus you might crave. For a truly unforgettable journey, choose one of the best Italy tour companies, such as Italy Luxury Tours. With a team of experienced travel planners, these companies are adept at tailoring both packaged and custom itineraries to fit your unique travel needs and interests.

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When you work with Italy Luxury Tours, counted among the best Italian tour companies, you're choosing a stress-free, luxurious Italian experience. They manage every detail for you, from crafting itineraries to arranging transportation and accommodations. Each tour comes with a personal guide who speaks your language and a dedicated driver, ensuring your trip is smooth from start to finish.

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An Epicurean Journey through Italy

The culinary landscape is an integral part of the Italian experience. The best Italian tour companies provide enriching culinary tours. Journey through renowned wine regions like Veneto, Tuscany, and Alto Adige, and enjoy gastronomic delights in Sicily, Piedmont, and the Amalfi Coast. These culinary tours offer a feast for all your senses.

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The best Italy tour companies excel in crafting custom tours based on your specific interests. Italy Luxury Tours’ seasoned travel planners work closely with you to design an itinerary that both excites and satisfies you. Whether you have a list of must-see destinations or unique travel experiences you wish to include, your personalized tour will be as unique as you are.

Experience the luxury of Italian travel.

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alizekk · 1 year

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The Integral Role of a Trip, Vacation, and Tour Planner in Your Travel Journey

Have you ever considered the significant influence a trip planner can have on your travel experience? A trip planner is not just a tool; it's a comprehensive approach to ensuring that every facet of your journey is planned precisely to your preferences. It helps manage your time efficiently, makes your trip productive, enjoyable, and most importantly, memorable.

A vacation is synonymous with relaxation, exploration, and a break from the usual day-to-day activities. However, planning these vacations can sometimes be a stressful task. This is where an efficient vacation planner plays an indispensible role. A vacation planner is not only accountable for organizing your itinerary but also pays heed to factors like budget, dietary restrictions, accommodations, transportation, destinations, activities, and more. With its help, all you need to focus on is enjoying the beautiful moments without worrying about any logistical issues.

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As we transcend towards an era where personalized experiences hold more value than ever before, the importance of customized planning through trip, vacation, and tour planners cannot be underestimated. Therefore, the next time you start planning your dream vacation, don't forget to utilize these powerful tools

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europeincomingei · 1 year

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A Guide to Planning a Wedding Event in Europe

For couples seeking special as well as amazing experiences for their special day, destination wedding event management are becoming considerably liked. Europe, with its plentiful background, remarkable scenes, as well as also sincere feeling, supplies a variety of spectacular wedding destinations. In this blog, we will discover the captivating charm of European wedding destinations along with provide experiences right into unique marital relationship occasion the officers as well as setting up, ensuring an impressive event of adoration. Appealing Backgrounds and also Enchanting Places: Europe is home to a plethora of amazing wedding occasion areas with charming setups as well as additionally awesome backgrounds. From the unblemished coastline front communities of Santorini, Greece, and also Amalfi Shore, Italy, to the dream royal residences of Scotland in addition to France, pairs can browse an option of appealing areas that fit their dreams along with desires. Whether it's trading warranties on a sandy ocean side, in an impressive royal residence, or in the midst of moving grape ranches, Europe supplies a different scope of scenes to make an outstanding wedding event experience. Historical Relevance as well as Social Expansion: Spectacular marriage relationships in Europe supply the potential possibility to saturate oneself in the location's social vast array in addition to real worth. To make their wedding event celebration celebrations much more authentic, pairs can integrate local custom-mades, food, as well as practices. In Prague, say "I do" in a medieval basilica, or in Athens, celebrate with a typical Greek dance. The multiculturalism of Europe makes location wedding events special and also memorable. Destination Wedding Event Management: When arranging from a range, preparing a place wedding event can be a daunting task. This is where marriage relationship at a distinct place party the board managements end up being a crucial component. Stress and also stress and anxiety can be decreased in addition to the information of your big day can be cared for by specialist occasion coordinators that concentrate on European wedding destinations . From picking the optimal scene as well as additionally setting up with surrounding vendors to coordinating facilities and also looking after visitor taking a trip, special marriage partnership event the board monitorings ensure a constant along with enchanting experience. Customized equipped location wedding celebration event Arranging: Destination wedding planning requires careful focus to specifics and individualization. Numerous has a special vision for their big day, and appealing marital relationship coordinators are capable at transforming those desires into the real life. Specialist wedding event planners can establish a personalized wedding party experience that shows your design, preferences, and also social impacts, whether you want an intimate event in a rustic Tuscan rental building or a grand event in an elegant French château. Neighboring Capability as well as likewise Supplier Organizations: One of the significant benefits of taking care of one-of-a-kind marriage planners in Europe is their nearby effectiveness and likewise supplier associations. These experts are skilled in the location's wedding occasion market, that consists of reputable wedding catering solutions, digital photographers, developers, and vendors.

#destination wedding event management #wedding destinations .#Destination wedding planning

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silver-moon1 · 2 years

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FINAL BLOG

This semester has taught me a lot about all the different avenues that the Hospitality and Tourism Management students can take. While I am not a HTM major, I do some of what we have learned was very interesting and appealing. The units that sparked most of my interest included:

Adventure Travel (aka spiritual pilgrimages)

The Cruising Industry

The Hotel Industry

Meeting and Events

Food and Beverage

I learned how spiritual pilgrimages can be incredibly eye opening for many people and how they view the world. During the discussion for this unit I discussed how my mother made a point to take me abroad to Italy after my high school graduation and how I always appreciated the experiences that trip gave me. Italy has such rich culture and food, especially in Rome. I was so amazed by all the monuments and history there is just so much to see. Any time we would walk down an alley we would happen upon something so unique and interesting. I would go back in a heartbeat if I could. I never knew that adventure travel was such a big thing in HTM, but now that I know it is definitely something to consider. I think everyone needs to take one journey abroad in their lifetime. Going someplace you have never been and experiencing a different culture can give so you so many different views on life and can improve a persons mental state and wellbeing.

The cruising industry was an intense unit to learn about. I have been on many different cruise lines in my lifetime with my family and we have always had such an amazing time, but I never really took a step back to think about how much work and time goes into each cruise. There are so many workers, working day in and day out, even once a ship offloads its patrons a whole new set comes right on and they are out of the dock within a couple hours. This industry is incredibly fast paced. I think it would be stressful at times, but highly rewarding to be able to reap the benefits of traveling and seeing the world.

As for the hotel industry, they are quiet similar to the cruising industry in the fast paced and long hours criteria. I think what appeals to me most about the industry is the aspect of constantly meeting new people and tending to their needs. Hotels bring in all different kinds of people from different backgrounds, cultures, ages, ethnicities, etc. I can't say that I would ever own or run a hotel on my own- as that sounds incredibly stressful to me. But, after watching the Marigold Hotel movies I definitely think that hotel management is a very respectable field and can allow many to attain a great livelihood. I learned that it requires soft skills and hard skills — art and science. In order to become great in this craft, you would need years of experience, the right tools, stellar organization systems, and an even better team under your belt to adjust to ongoing consumer wants and needs.

The meetings and events unit sparked my interest the MOST out of everything I have learned in HTM 101. I even discussed the possibility of going into this field with my mom the other day. She agrees that I am very organized and love to plan. My own friends tell me that they want me to decorate or organize their weddings because they love my style and taste. I think if I ever went into event planning I would have be a wedding planner. Weddings would be so much fun for me to plan because creating special moments for others seems very rewarding. Not to mention a lot of people don't want to do it themselves nor have the time to do so. There is so much work that goes into wedding planning, but overall I think I would be able to handle it and make something great!

Lastly I wanted to go over the food and beverage unit because I learned a lot about it. My own parents created their own coffee shops back in the day and looking back so much has changed in terms of what people expect from the food and beverage industry. (Especially once COVID hit).

Some suggestions I would offer to those entering the F&B industry include:

Increase health conscious options

Decrease unhealthy fast food services

Stock more organic food products

Stock more plant based food products

Create products with simple ingredients (NO LONG LISTS)... we want to understand what is going into our bodies

Source food that is locally grown and produced

Buy food at farmers markets

I think that my major being marketing can go hand in hand with a lot of these HTM careers. After all the experience that I gained from my degree would apply and be very useful for future employers even if I didn't go into a marketing specific field. I would definitely consider some of these HTM options in the future and if you have any suggestions on which avenue to take definitely let me know!

I have enjoyed these past 15 weeks so much. This class was a different learning experience than any other class I have taken at GVSU and I can truthfully say I wish more were like this. School isn't meant to be stressful. We are meant to learn and enjoy not stress and regurgitate information. I will take what I have learned and look into all the options that are out there for me. I will continue to grow and learn and hopefully TRAVEL.

#HTM #Week15

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