#just a goof cause working on serious art is not going well for me today :/

[trenchcoatsbi]

in light of today’s events on the blog

[rebelscum-2187]

So after nearly 22 years of life on this planet, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am high functioning autistic. I believe I fell through the cracks of an early diagnosis for the following reasons:

1.) I am Female (I learned how to mask myself very early on)

2.) I have a gifted IQ (above 130) and was classified as such in 4th grade so no one considered that I could be both ASD and intellectually gifted.

I am in the beginning stages of unmasking and am currently seeking an official diagnosis. Right now, I’m trying to write down everything I know about my neurodivergent experience so here’s a list of things I’ve experienced and believe to be relevant. If you can relate or you understand please comment and share! I’m new to this community and it feels so good to finally meet people who understand and can relate. Ok, Here we go.

“So the general population doesn’t memorize scripts to movies or watch the same one every day for a year?”

“People think it’s weird that I prefer to have subtitles on when I watch stuff, even though I don’t have damaged hearing”

“I watch movies with subtitles because I won’t understand what’s said if I don’t read it. I have no hearing issues.”

“I cannot hear/understand someone if I have one ear bud in and one out. Too much sensory input at once.”

“I thought I had a hearing deficit because I literally could not understand people at church or parties or other places with a lot of background noise, and I was so confused when they told me my hearing was normal.”

“I love star wars. Not just love but I could tell you what planet each character is from and what kind of ship they use, what model droid that one is and I will gladly talk about it all day if you let me. Everyone now gets me Star Wars stuff for my birthday and holidays”

“Eye contact is so uncomfortable for me that sometimes it ‘burns’ to maintain it, but then I overcompensate and stare too intensely. Over the years, being female, I’ve forced myself to make eye contact for a certain number of seconds and then look away a certain number of seconds but I’m concentrating so hard on that, that I don’t remember anything that was said to me.”

“Giving me verbal directions is a special kind of hell. I need it written down.”

“I can memorize pictures of things and exactly where every kid sat in my 10th grade US history class as well as my 9th grade geometry class.”

“I never fit in anywhere, in my childhood, most of my adolescence, except the swim team and my new church.”

“Team sports are the worst. I can’t communicate fast enough, I’m bad with hand eye coordination and keeping track of a ball. I excelled in individual sports and fell in love with swimming.”

“I often found it much easier to make friends with older kids because I could have intelligent conversations with them and their good social skills could make up for my lack of social skills.”

“But, I had a few friends that were considerably younger who I could still play imaginatively with dolls when I was 13 and one particular friend was 9. I had a lot of trouble getting a long with her sister who was the same age as me.”

“It physically pains me to hear someone mispronounce a word, spell something wrong, or make a grammatical mistake. I corrected my cousin A LOT when we were kids, she frequently got mad and I couldn’t understand why. My grandma would tell me to stop because correcting people is rude.”

“One of my special interests as a kid was dolphins. I was 5-6 years old and I remember being so excited when my mom let me check out like 10 books from the library and I read them quickly and multiple times.”

“I corrected a teacher one time about dolphins. She said dolphins weren’t whales and I knew FOR A FACT that ‘dolphins were a type of small whale’ because I read it in one of my books. She laughed at me and so did the rest of the class and I felt stupid even though I was right. This led to me suppressing my knowledge and real self and ultimately more masking.”

“As per that last one, my memory is impeccable.”

“I had another special interest in dogs when I got a bit older. My mom bought me a book with every kind of breed of dog, where they came from, their temperament, their size, everything. I can still, to this day, tell you the breed of dog just by looking at it.”

“I always wanted a best friend but never had one. I had groups of friends but never someone who would call me their best friend. When I got a boyfriend in high school, I was so excited because he called me his best friend and he was mine and I finally had that feeling reciprocated. He also had a gifted IQ and dyslexia, ADHD and a few other things so we understood each other quite well.”

“I can’t tell if someone is flirting with me because I can’t read between the lines. I also don’t know how to flirt because if I like a guy too much I get soooo nervous and I stumble over my words and it’s a disaster.”

“When I liked this guy (last year, 2019) I would freeze up so bad when I talked to him that I rehearsed every conversation I wanted to have with him so I wouldn’t mess it up. I would write topics in the notes section of my phone before hanging out with him so I’d remember what to ask him. It made for very awkward and forced conversations and probably drove him away.”

“Sarcasm and jokes almost always go over my head. The boyfriend I had in high school was very funny and outgoing but used a lot of sarcasm and it always caused disagreements because I took him seriously when he was being sarcastic.”

“I talk slowly and very monotone.”

“I have no difficulty reading in my head and can read/comprehend it well, but reading aloud is difficult and I often stumble over words and mess up.”

“I need directions repeated multiple times before I understand.”

“I went to the beach to hang out with some church friends yesterday. They all play spike ball and are so confused as to why I sit there and don’t play. I’ve tried playing spike ball but it involves way too much hand eye coordination and I’m so bad at it that it’s embarrassing. So I don’t play.”

“That same night, a group of them said ‘let’s play uno!’ And I was so happy to play something familiar that didn’t involve a lot of coordination. Then they said ‘we’re playing SPICY uno, right?’ And immediately my heart sank because I knew they were playing a different way that I wasn’t familiar with. Again, receiving verbal directions was hell and I didn’t understand it. I was so bad at it and wasn’t getting it, and in the middle of the game I had the urge to cry. I wanted to cry because I couldn’t even get this right. I suppressed the urge, of course, so they wouldn’t think I was even more weird than the already suspected. Another group of people that I wouldn’t fit in with.”

“Making friends has always been so difficult. Once I make a good friend I hang on to them for as long as possible even if they’re not very nice because I’m scared I’ll have to make a new one if I lose them. And we all know how hard making new friends is for me.”

“I’m a perfectionist. Especially with my art projects. When I took a painting class I realized I do it the wrong way. You’re supposed to paint layer by layer over the entire canvas and focus on small details at the very end. I work on one small area at a time and do small details too soon. I often spend way too much time on small details before I realize that the larger shape of the object isn’t proportionate and then it’s too late.”

“I won’t even attempt tasks if I know I can’t do them perfectly.”

“I have perfect pitch. I don’t know if that has anything to do with autism or that I just started music lessons when I was young. I can tune instruments perfectly without a tuner or reference note and I never understood why my orchestra teacher had me play the A key on the piano over and over again while she walked around and tuned everyone’s instruments when I could do it without any reference. I can hear it in my head.”

“When my parents got me a keyboard at age 7-8, they were impressed because I could sit down, without listening to any song and find the notes of a song I liked by ear. I still do that today but my piano is very out of tune and it bothers me.”

“Autistic boys tend to isolate and not care about concealing their stims or weird behavior but girls don’t. I am a ‘loner’ and always have been but I want so badly to belong and have friends and socialize, but I’ve always been so bad at it that I strike out every time. I often drink at social gatherings because it helps me loosen up and talk more freely. I guess it helps me lose the mask for a while.”

“I HATE people touching me. I’ve always hated it and still hate it to this day unless it’s someone I’m super comfortable with. I’ve been told I have the ‘dead fish hand shake’ and I’m an awkward hugger. My friend picked me up from behind and carried me for a few seconds because we were all goofing off and having fun but afterwards I was so mad at him I got really quiet and didn’t talk for a while. I told him later on the ride home that if he did that again I would slap him. “

“Everyone thinks it’s weird that I don’t like touching people, and some of my friends who also don’t like touching people were abused and I always thought, ‘there had to be a reason, maybe I was abused as a kid and repressed it.’ It’s been so long and I’ve finally realized that maybe it’s just because I have Aspergers or ASD. “

“When I make sarcastic remarks or jokes I often have to clarify because I say them in such a monotone way that people think I’m serious.”

“I’ve always joked that I’m just really clumsy and uncoordinated, and chalked it up to being tall and lanky. That’s why swimming was the perfect sport for me. Little to no risk of injury and not much hand eye coordination needed to be good at it. Just hours of practice, technique and endurance.”

“I also injure myself quite a lot because I’m ‘a klutz.’”

“Stims: I scratch my head and then smell my fingers and I will do this for hours if I am able (I know that one is weird so I only do it at home) popping my knuckles a ridiculous amount of times when I feel uncomfortable and don’t know what to do with my hands. I twirl my hair constantly (that one is pretty socially acceptable so I do it in class nonstop). I tap my foot or bounce my leg, I make weird facial expressions and forget to hide those. People notice but they often think it’s funny because I’ll make a face if someone says something dumb and make an expression that people seem to relate to. I scrunch my nose if I’m uncomfortable or just whenever.”

Special interests: Star Wars, Disney (I know every word to every Disney song and I watch animated Disney movies over and over again, like literally every night) dolphins, the ocean, dogs, theology/the Bible.

“With my art work, and other things, I will get so focused on a painting that I will work non stop for 8-9 hours (all day basically) and not eat because I’m so focused that I forget to eat.”

“I think I slur my words a lot and sometimes my friends will laugh and be like ‘did you just say ____.?!?!’And I’ll clarify and they will continue laughing and say ‘oh it sounded like you said this.’ I hate when that happens.”

“Loud noises really bother me. I jump if I hear an unexpected loud noise and I hate people yelling, even if it’s not directed at me, it makes me want to cry. “

“I loved the color blue so much as a kid (I still do) but my entire wardrobe was basically different shades of blue t-shirts. I also only ever wore baggy t-shirts and baggy cargo shorts (I kinda dressed like a boy) because it was comfortable and I didn’t like getting comments if I looked “cute today”. I hated the attention. I also never ever wore my hair down to school. It always had to be up in a tight pony tail. I still don’t like my hair being in my face to this day and wear it up almost every day.”

“The other day, I was hanging out with a friend and she was trying to tell a story but I kept getting distracted and interrupting her. She said, ‘Emily, you kind of interrupt people a lot.’ At first I was hurt, but then I realized it’s not entirely my fault and it’s an autistic thing.”

“I mask so much that I have rehearsed responses to social interactions and will often get so nervous or start speaking from the script before I realize I’ve said the wrong response. Of course I’ll think about it all day after that and think of ‘well great, so and so thinks I’m weird now.’”

[solecize]

.  .  .  𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑼𝑺  (PT20&FINAL) |  

— — jung jaehyun is the beloved captain of your university’s basketball team. you’re a freshman in the school ballet company and somehow get roped into giving him dance lessons. the issue is that your brother is lee taeyong aka jaehyun’s on-court rival, who broke his little sister’s heart. that’s where you, revenge, and a little bet come into play.

MAY 29TH. 2:29 PM KST.

the university’s contemporary ballet company was, in fact, loaded. with an inception dating back to the school’s own founding, they were fated for greatness from the start. they received a surprising amount of funding for an arts-related venture, mostly attributed to the fact that the dancers within the company simply deserved it for their work. their achievements ranged from international competition, two yearly productions, and more. therefore, even after a small presentation like the spring showcase, the company was more than willing to spend money on an expensive celebration party in the form of lunch at a high end restaurant. 

that’s why it was nothing but hilarious when the plan when up in flames—literally.

sooyoung was technically the first person who thought something was starting to smell like it was burning, but no one paid too much attention to it, as the team was being seated into their reserved table. however, coach jung didn’t take it seriously until her favourite male dancer on the team, bambam, pointed it out just a minute or two after. it didn’t take long for the fire alarm to be set off, forcing everyone in the fancy eatery to evacuate the area.

some of your fellow dancers were far too obnoxious when exiting the building, going to slow or literally dashing out the door. you were taken aback by the situation, unsure of what was exactly happening. thankfully, the may weather treated you all nicely, allowing evacuation to be under sunlight.

“but, we didn’t even get to order!” someone cried out, despite the fact that the entire company was left standing outside with the other patrons, as the firetrucks started to swarm in. if you could, you would’ve shoved a complimentary breadstick into her mouth.

you watched people began to enter the restaurant, arms linked with an aggravated sooyoung. it was curious that there didn’t seem to be any visible fire, at least nothing too big. you figured it was probably a small fire in the kitchen. coach jung sighed and clapped her hands three times, the same thing she used every time she wanted to get dancers’ attention.

“well, today’s celebration party has been ruined.” the older woman pursed her lips, clearly irritated by the outcome, as was everyone else. “this shall be postponed. everyone is free to go.”

the round of disappointing reactions surfaced, but she tsked them away. the others began to group amongst themselves, probably discussing alternate plans to their ruined lunch out. you sighed and took a look around, uncertain of what to do next.

beside you, sooyoung was busy typing away at her phone. “well, i was going to leave in like ten minutes for the game, anyway.” she shrugged. “y/n, i’m heading to there now. um, are you coming?”

she asked the last part tentatively and you knew why. however, you had to deal with your parents first, as you texted them about the sudden evacuation. why? no fucking clue because you were definitely regretting it now, seeing their texts flooding in about how you should come and see the game.

“my parents are bugging me about it,” you grumbled. “they’re talking about how i should come and support my brother.” the imitation of your mother’s voice was poor, but sooyoung still laughed. it wasn’t like you didn’t want to support taeyong, but you’d seen him play basketball a million times and he even told you that he doesn’t expect you there, at least not with jaehyun around. 

“why don’t you?” she cocked an eyebrow.

you couldn’t believe that sooyoung just asked you that. “what?”

sooyoung blinked innocently, as if not seeing any sort of issue with such a proposal. she was good at that, you’d have to admit, and would sometimes wonder why she went into dance instead of acting. 

“i’m serious! he’s your brother, you need to watch him play during his last national competition before he graduates,” she said, giving you a pointed look.

you didn’t really consider the fact that this was taeyong’s last year as apart of his basketball team. it was sad in a way, since you’d spent almost all your life watching your big brother shoot some orange balls into a net. while the two of you did not get along whatsoever for most of your lives, it’s been in recent years that you’ve grown close and you slowly started to become his number one supporter. even if you had some issues with his opponent, you wanted to be there for him.

sooyoung essentially saw right through your thought process and smiled. “well, that’s settled. let’s go—” as she started to pull you away, you realized that she did her signature sooyoung persuasion thing, “—and if it really bothers you that much, you can leave during the last quarter.”

there was always a different feeling during the finals. the air was heavier, as if weighing down on everyone’s shoulders. before each game, there would always be a few guys goofing around in the locker room or blasting music. today, there was none of that. there was only anxiety running through veins and the sweet taste of victory just so close, yet so far.

“it’s been harsh since the playoffs started, but we still ran with it and made it this far.”

all members of the basketball team sat in front of jaehyun, who was concluding his usual speech and standing beside their coach. they’d never seen their captain so tired and hungry for victory, fueled by his own personal conflicts. the fire had been there for the past few games and while most of the members weren’t sure why, a select three did. 

doyoung, lucas, and sicheng sat on the front bench, along with their new starting small forward, kim jungwoo. they were the most worried out of everyone on the team, since all eyes were on them after johnny’s unfortunate injury. the usual centre was missing for whatever reason, despite the fact that anyone injured would normally make an appearance regardless to show their support, especially for a game like this.

“everyone, we are facing the panthers in the finals for the fifth year in a row. what is the answer to their traditionally rough style?” there was silence, only the coach’s eyes surveying his boys with expectation.  

when no one answered, doyoung slowly raised his hand. “no mercy?”

“play rougher?”

“play dirty?”

coach brought a palm to his forehead. “no, you buffoons!” he felt out a growl of annoyance. “the answer is simplicity. no matter how complicated their tactics become or how vicious their players get, our victory is going to be effortless. that means our basketball is going to be effortless.”

jaehyun looked at his father with confusion, trying to process what he was getting at. the panthers were known for playing ruthlessly, while the serpents adapted to whatever team they were playing, despite having a distinctly strong defense. the last time the boys played the panthers, the game was on a different level of run and gun, bloodthirsty plays. jaehyun realized where they went wrong.

“and you, jaehyun,” coach suddenly turned towards him. “i don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this post season has been murderous on your end.” this made many of the members of the team laugh, including jaehyun himself, but the coach didn’t budge. “i mean it, you’ve been in foul trouble almost every game!”

it was true, he’d essentially set a new record for foul counts. jaehyun became extra aggressive on the court, even mouthing off to the referees. it was like something came over him.

“it’s going to be especially hard for you to play straightforward on the court,” coach said, “but i believe it’s possible for you. there just needs to be a balance. it’s between playing as it is and playing the way you want. stick to the basics, go back to the beginning, but don’t lose your drive.”

the words hit jaehyun harder than they were meant to.

the only reason why you were glad that you came was because there was no one else who would have held your father back when he saw that someone accidentally elbowed taeyong, causing his nose to bleed. the man was about to stomp down the bleachers and cuss out everyone in sight. alright, perhaps it wasn’t the only reason.

taeyong played like his life depended on it. the fervor in his eyes ablaze was one that you rarely saw in him. he was a naturally gifted player and had been since he started playing, so more often, you saw pride and ease in the way he moved. today, he was challenged.

meanwhile, lucas played with a smile on his face. that was just him, the guy who set his foot on the court simply because he loved the sport. you remembered just how overjoyed he was when he was the only sophomore to be put on the starting lineup, albeit at the expense of an injured taeil, who was the original holder of the position. the fervor found in his eyes was because basketball was apart of him.

“are you kidding me?” jaehyun’s voice boomed, as he received yet another foul. 

you’d never seen jaehyun play before. sure, you’ve been to basketball games before for lucas during the season, but you’d never truly paid attention to jaehyun and focused on him. it was surprising because as you watched him now, you wondered how you could’ve possibly done so when he was so hard to miss. his style of play begged for attention. it was a cross of complexity and true fundamentals that made his opponents go, “wow, i can’t believe i fell for something like that.”

the score was tensely close. with eight minutes left on the clock during this last quarter, the score stood at a troubling 104-106. the panthers  were barely in the lead, which seemed to surprise a lot people because of the sidelined center, johnny. the devil himself appeared midway through the halftime performance by the cheerleading teams, resorting to supporting his teammates on the bench.

“let’s go, taeyong!” your mother’s shrill voice couldn’t overcome the other viewers around her.

you chose to not cheer for anyone—you knew better than to cheer for the panthers in the serpents’ home stadium and better than to cheer for anyone other than your brother in front of your parents. in fact, you’d been seated throughout the whole game. almost everyone around you was on their feet. sometimes you would politely clap after a particularly good play or when sooyoung was out during halftime with the cheerleaders. 

yet, jaehyun’s eyes still managed to find yours among the hundreds in the crowd. 

he was bent over, trying to catch his breath. he looked up at the bright lights that brightened the court, then across the crowd who’d been cheering for him for what seemed like years on end. his eyes scanned quickly. wait. he thought he saw something. jaehyun’s looked back at the last section, squinting closer.

your heart stopped. there was no doubt about it, as you glanced around you just in case. jaehyun was looking straight at you. the whistle blew and the ball was suddenly back in someone’s hands, causing him to have no choice but to tear his eyes away from you and bring his attention back to the game he was playing.

the sudden connection was unsettling. your breath became uneven. you didn’t even notice it, but you unconsciously brought yourself to your feet and started sliding your way out of your row. something that sounded like your parents’ objections attempted to bring you back to reality, but you ignored them. you needed to get out of there.

sooyoung stopped in the middle of her routine when she saw your figure turn to go up and leave the stands. johnny almost tried getting up. their plan was going to fail.

they weren’t the only ones that noticed your attempted escape because when jaehyun turned to look at you in the crowd again, you were completely gone. he felt a rush on panic in his bones and saw that you were trying to make your way out of there. the ball was in his hands; he was supposed to throw it in.

“FIND THE BALANCE, JAEHYUN!” bellowed the coach from the sidelines. 

he was going to do exactly that.

jaehyun dropped the ball and made a beeline for the bleachers. everyone around him barked questions and exclamations of confusion. the crowd murmured, watching the seprents’ star player suddenly abandon the game. was it nerves? was it because they were going to lose? the coach especially cursed and yelled questions, before calling a time out. 

he watched his son stride right past him. “jaehyun, we are about to win this game, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? THIS IS YOUR GAME!” 

that was right, it was his game. you turned around, at the exit at this point, because you wondered what the sudden commotion was. jaehyun was running up the steps, sprinting to catch up and make his way right towards you. your entire body was frozen and you weren’t sure what was happening.

behind all of you, the whistle was blown into again and it seemed like the game begun again. jaehyun slowed down, stopping in front of you. eyes were on the two of you, standing still at the top of the bleachers.

“what are you doing? you must be crazy, you have a game a play out there—” you began, but he cut you off.

“let’s go back to the beginning.”

words could barely leave your lips with all the emotions running in your head. “w-what?”

“can we try this again? the right way?” jaehyun gently grabbed your hand. he was sweaty, panting, and bordering on desperate to win you back. you could see it in his eyes and the energy between the two of your palms. “i know you feel betrayed. like, everything must seem like a lie to you after the bet, right? i want you to meet the real me this time.”

“just like that? like a reset button?” you asked.

“i wanted to do this after the game, but when i was watching you leave,” jaehyun lowered his head, “i knew i needed to do this now.”

the final buzzer went off and roars emerged from every corner of the room. the floor was practically shaking, as the crowd leapt to their feet. people were running down to meet the winning team, as music went off over the speakers. you and jaehyun looked over—the panthers won their first national championship in three years. taeyong was lifted to sit on top of the crowd’s shoulders, holding the trophy high and with pure bliss. the score was seperated by three points.  with johnny and jaehyun off the court, the serpents did the best they could.

“so, what now?” he asked, turning back to you. there didn’t seem to be a hint of regret in his eyes when all he was looking at was you.

you brought your lips to his.

“okay. this time will be different. i don’t know how this is going to end, but i’m glad we’re going to begin this the right way.” you told him and you meant it. it was like jumping into nothing but a bright light that blinded everything before you. however, something told you that it was going to be worth it.

FIN.

tag list: @i-hate-these-people​ @glitterystanz​ @jkuwus​ @jenojae  @csillagosegnelkul​ @imtaehyungry​ @theloouiisee​ @ikonictaelien​ @knisterlicht​ @seungkwanismyaesthetic​ @jaemingold​ @xysabella​ @sua246​ @ireallyjustneedcoffee​ @p-platonica​ @just-a-dream-40​0 @fuckthatfeeling​   @sehunights​ 

EXTRA.

if it was possible, the crowd cheered just as loud when jaehyun and y/n kissed on top of the bleachers. all attention was on them and a round of applause erupted. sicheng, doyoung, lucas, johnny, and sooyoung were especially delighted at the sight. on the other side of the court, taeyong watched the happy pair and shook his head, smiling. 

“aw, i guess our balloons and flowers in the back are going to waste,” sicheng pouted. the five of them, along with jaehyun, spent at least an hour decorating because they thought jaehyun was going surprise and talk it out with y/n there.

sooyoung grinned. “at least we got her to come to the game.

lucas folded his arms across his chest, looking at his friends. “wait, yeah. hey, how did we get y/n to leave her party with the ballet people?”

everyone looked at johnny.

the center sighed and began to relay the story of how exactly he earned sooyoung and lucas’ forgiveness. “so, what, i set a little something on fire? not a big deal.” after johhnny explained how he was the one that got the restaurant to be evacuated, everyone looked at him in complete shocked. 

“did you get in trouble for it?” doyoung’s eyes were wide.

johnny snorted. “no. my family owns that restaurant.” he looked back up to jaehyun and y/n, smiling softly. “the damages were only worth two thousand dollars, anyway.” it was a number that cursed them all.

[acaseforpencils]

Arnie Levin, Part One.

Today’s Case is not in the usual survey format, because a little over a week ago, I called Arnie up on the phone, and we had a wild conversation about cartooning. I’m posting the interview in two pieces. The first part (which you’re currently reading!) is focused on his background, and the second part will be mainly about his art supplies and drawing process. Arnie has lived a life just as colorful as his art, and I hope that you have as much fun reading about it as I had interviewing him!—Jane Mattimoe

Jane Mattimoe: Hi Arnie!

Arnie Levin: Hi Jane, I was just talking to you in my head before you called.

J: Well, I hope this interview lives up to the interview you were just having!

Find this print here!

J: How did you get into art?

A: Well, my grandfather was paralyzed, so when I was very small, he used to paint and draw—he could move that part of his body—so I watched him. My uncle was a commercial artist. He did very tight controlled stuff. He had a great hand—he was a specialist in hand lettering, so he had a very formal way to work. I went to a high school—it was a trade school— and I just happened to luck into an absolute incredible instructor, whose thinking was that you draw to your feelings, and that not every artist draws the same way. So there weren’t any tight rules for how to draw.

J: So it was very different than your uncle’s style.

A: Yes, and my uncle’s style of drawing— he once tried to hire me...he had a perfect hand, you know, and he tried to hire me and get me into the business, and I was so loose, and I just couldn’t do what you had to do to do real hand-lettering.

J: Well, you were too creative, probably!

A: Yes, which was fine for me. I decided I was gonna be a painter. We were taught drawing exercises, and they were just to get our hands and our mind working and there was no, “This is what you do, and you have to do this, and you have to do that...” I was very fortunate that there were hours and hours of learning to just do gesture drawings— drawings that were very quick, but that were able to catch the feeling and the movement, rather than particular incidents. So it was a fine arts direction.

J: I think I read somewhere that you were a competitive dancer in high school, and I was wondering how that informed...dancers are very grounded in their body, and they have a really good sense of motion— do you think that affected how you viewed motion in your drawings?

A: Oh, absolutely. When I danced, it was all rock and roll dancing, which was different than the preceding years, which were more box step— you did this, you did that, you did the other thing. I created my own steps and just did them, and sometimes changed them in the middle, because I always wanted to create something that was live— not just, “here’s a pencil rough, and we trace over the pencil line very carefully, and we make a picture.” I also didn’t like the idea, especially when I got into cartooning, of so many situations where there were talking heads in cartoons. I like to do sight gags— ones that you just look at, that are funny.

J: So you don’t want it to be people delivering the joke, you want them to be part of the joke... like Sam Gross likes to say that there’s a difference between drawing funny and funny drawing.

Find this print here!

A: Yes, did he mention to you… We had a thing, where there were four of us, I don’t know if we ever mentioned this, I would get together with Sam Gross, Bill Woodman… once a month we’d all meet at Sam’s apartment, and we would sit down and we would open the phone book— we’d get the yellow pages, and then we would just blindly put our finger down. For instance we’d end up with plumbing,“Ok, we’re gonna do a plumbing gag.” We would drink afterwards. So we’d pick three topics to do cartoons on, and then we would just sit and just quickly sketch out cartoons and show each other.

J: That’s smart, cause that takes you out of your head— it forces you to consider things that wouldn’t have necessarily come to you if you were just sitting down coming up with gags.

A: Exactly, it was perfect to keep your head open. Though sometimes we’d get to the drinks slightly before we’d finish drawing, and so the drawings got looser as the session got on. But it was always a lot of fun. You’d spoken to Sam, and he’s just like... volatile energy. He’s a real character...brilliant.

Find this print here!

J: So you’re telling me this, and you told me you don’t like rules, but I read you went straight into the military after high school, which doesn’t seem like something I’d expect you to do.

A: Believe me, it wasn’t what the military expected when I got in. What happened is, at that time, men had to serve in the military somehow. You had to serve a certain amount of time. In high school, I’d go in on Saturdays and Sundays— there were certain times I had to go in and serve in the Reserves. So at sixteen, I was in the Marine Reserves. And it was sort of a maturing thing— the other kids my age were goofing around, but I was into… more serious stuff. You had to go two weeks in the summer, and just after I turned seventeen, I said “you know, I want to get out into the world.” I was living in Miami—we had moved down from New York. I had basically come from Brooklyn and Manhattan, and we moved down to Miami, which, to me, wasn’t that particularly a stimulating place to be in. I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Two weeks after I turned seventeen, I was in the Marines officially. They sent me to Jacksonville School.

J: That’s where I was born! My dad was in the Navy.

A: NAS Jacksonville! Naval Air Station Jacksonville. I know it well. The other reason Jacksonville was good for me was because I lived in Miami, and on the weekends it’s 395 miles from Jacksonville to Miami, and I used to hitchhike. Friday night, I’d leave the base, and I’d hitchhike to Miami, and then hitchhike back to Jacksonville.

J: I wouldn’t recommend that today!

A: Not today, no, but in those days... Hey, It was acceptable! I guess we were just fearless, or just stupid, I’m not sure which. It may have been a mixture of both. So I did a lot of hitchhiking in my early years, and I hitchhiked across the country— New York to California, from California all the way to Miami… I also felt that being an artist, you really should get a broad view of the world, not just a local situation, or one kind of thing.

J: Weren’t you a part of the beatnik crowd, with Jack Kerouac…

A: Yes, and another reason I got into the service was when you got out of training, you could go to school, and they supplied a certain amount of money, so my dream had been to go to the Art Students League in Manhattan, and just the name, “The Art Students League,” sounded so great to me, so that was my goal, and it turned out to be a wonderful experience. So I started to go, and I took painting. The classes were little old ladies, and they didn’t take to me doing “action painting,” spraying paint all around the room— de Kooning! Pollock!

Find this print here!

There were lots of Japanese students there, and they befriended me, and I befriended them. I spoke absolutely no Japanese, and they spoke very little English, but they were sort of mature, which made me wonder why they were there. Well, it turns out that around that time, Japanese painters wanted to show in New York galleries on Madison Avenue. They had to have a reason for staying in New York, so they went to The Art Students League. They didn’t ever do anything there— they just signed in twice a week. These guys were already professionals! They were all sponsored by Kenzo Okada, who was a very famous Japanese action painter.

J: So that probably helped you, being around these professional artists, who were doing the style you were more interested in.

A: They were much more restrained. They were very organized, and they did more structured work. I made friends with the Japanese painters, and I had no idea that these were the top painters in the business! It was wonderful!

J: That’s really awesome!

A: Yeah, it was really lucky. I had also befriended a dancer from the Martha Graham studio, and I would come from The Art Students League with an oil painting, and one day she dragged me up to the studio to meet  Martha…

J: What?!

A: The painting had just been done, and you know how oil paints reek, and so here are all these dancers, smelling this… so she showed it to Martha, and she liked it.

J: She was one of the preeminent modern dancers, and you were showing her your modern work...

A: Yes! She seemed to like it. She said, “This is very nice.”

Find this print here!

J: That was an incredible time to be an artist in New York, because the rent was so cheap compared to now.

A: Well, if you didn’t have much money, yes. One of the artists I met, who was actually a model at The Art Students League, we got to be friendly, and he lived on 9th Avenue, just below 42nd street, and one day, he said, “You wanna go to a great [coffee house]?” There was a great coffee house between 42nd and 43rd, on 8th Avenue, and [it] had painting and poetry and stuff, and I said sure, so I went [there]. It was run by just this incredible guy who was a dropout kind of person, and we would have art shows there at night, and I would serve coffee— I ran the coffee machine. And you can look this up on the internet, cause there’s pictures of me from that time, from 1959. We would sleep on the tables in sleeping bags. We pushed the tables together…

J: You lived in the coffee shop?

A: Yes! We slept on the tables because of the mice.

J: It doesn’t sound like you’d pass a health inspection!

A: Well, look, 9th Avenue is Hell’s Kitchen, you know, but the poetry— Allen Ginsberg came up, and Kerouac… all of the New York poets, and we had the painters and photographers. So I was right in the middle of it. And my partner— and I eventually became a partner in the coffee shop—had all of these great friends, and people we hung out with. My partner eventually became a character in one of Kerouac’s books, and he would go up to Big Sur... and I eventually moved to the Lower East Side, and hung around more with Allen Ginsberg, and so did a lot of the other poets on the the Lower East Side. We would all walk up in the afternoon, and we’d walk up to the Madison Avenue galleries-- and Ginsberg was incredible, he was just the nicest person in the world. And they all got a kick out of me, because I always kept a running commentary, and I was kind of goofy.

Find this print here!

J: You weren’t into cartooning at this time?

A: No, I wanted to be a fine artist. Eventually, I used my GI Bill, and started studying with Bob Blechman, with another cartoonist, Charles Slackman. I took night classes. I would do that, and I was a messenger in Manhattan, which I absolutely loved, for two reasons. One, I got to know the middle of the city very well, and two, I got to drop off people’s portfolios at different ad agencies and magazines.

J: So that got you a foot in the door, huh?

A: Yes, and I knew the secretaries, so if I dropped off a portfolio, they’d be like, “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

J: That’s awesome!

A: That was terrific. I did that for a while, and one day, I was taking night classes with Bob Blechman and [Charles] Slackman, and they gave an assignment to do a storyboard, to do an animation. I overdo things sometimes, but everyone came in with two pieces of paper, a little storyboard, or rough storyboard, and I did four full boards—248 pounds! [laughs] Meanwhile, Blechman had gotten me a job at Pushpin Studios... there was Milton Glaser, Seymour Chast, Isadore Seltzer, Jim McMullin... all the big illustrators that were in Pushpin, and I would get on the back of the bus to deliver things, and I’d take all of their drawings and study them.

J: People would kill for that!

A: Absolutely! You know, when I was hanging around, I had another friend, and he wanted to be an illustrator, and when I left Pushpin, I said, “Hey, would you like this job? It’s a great job,” and he said “No, I’m not a messenger, I’m an artist.” Never heard of him again.

Find this print here!

A: So I got the job as the messenger, and I was going to night school, and like I said, I did this huge storyboard, and the next day, or day after, I went into work to messenger, and they said, “How would you like to work in a film studio? How would you like to do animation?” And I said, “Let me think about this— messenger or be in animation… I said,”Yeah!” 

So Milton sent me up, and I walked into the studio. They sat me down at a drawing table, and it had an animation field guide to do the stuff and they said, “Do a storyboard.” So I did a storyboard. I laid it out, I designed it, I directed [it]… the second week, the head of company came by and said, “How would you like to be an animation director?” And I said, “Yeah, that’s even more better!” So I got myself into the animation business.

J: It almost sounds lucky, but you put in so much work making these connections, and going to school... so while it seems like an overnight success, you worked so hard to get to that point.

A: Yeah, and I had a very deep background.

J: I’m sure the guy who rejected the messenger job said, “Oh, he got lucky,” but there’s more to just making art when it comes to being an artist, and I think that’s important for people who are reading this blog, and who are just starting out, to understand.

A: Yes, and like you say I was fortunate in a couple ways, and one of them is that I had the talent, but I was also able to have the instruction, and being able to understand what I did. A lot of cartoonists, start off when they’re kids, and all they draw are cartoons and strips and panels…

J: But you didn’t start cartooning up until the ‘70s right?

A: Well, on the way, I was living in Florida, and got into a car accident and I had dislocated both shoulders, and I had a pin in my hip, and bones knocked out of my eye socket, and I was pretty much a mess. And so I was recovering at home in Miami, in a little 6x6 foot room, sitting on the edge of the bed and not having anything to do. My mother had Writer’s Digest, because she wanted to be a writer, and so I sat down and it said, “If you wanna do cartoons...” and since I couldn’t move around, I figured I can’t make a mess, I’ll do that. So I asked my mom to get a bamboo pen, some india ink, and a bunch of typewriter paper. I started to draw cartoons, and [Writer’s Digest] said, “You put twenty in a batch and you put a return envelope, and you put postage, and blah blah blah…” So I said, “Okay!” And I just did these drawings. I did forty drawings. Then I started up for New York, and I gave my drawings to my mother, and she sent half of them.

So, I’m in New York, doing the messenger stuff, and suddenly, I get a thing, “Playboy wants three finishes.” So I immediately thought the obvious, “What is a finish?” So I said okay, so I did that, and so that was my first published stuff. I sent half the batch up to them, they bought a couple.. But what happened was, you’d send it, and it took months for this process to happen, and so one drawing you got 80 dollars, the second one you got a five dollar raise to 85, and then you got one for 90 bucks. The whole process was about six months, and I thought, “This is not gonna be a way to make a living.” So I stuck my hand in the cartoon world.

Find this print here!

J: How did you get into cartooning from animation?

A: I gave up cartooning at Playboy, but when the animation business went sort of down for a while, I talked to Bob Blechman once again, and he said, “Do you have any cartoons?” I said “No,” and he said, “Put some cartoons together.” So I put the cartoons together and some cover ideas. I wanted to do covers for The New Yorker. Also in the middle of this, I forgot, I had a rep, and she took my stuff around. I started to illustrate for all kinds of magazines, Life, Time, Business Week... doing spot illustrations in watercolor, and then everything just went flat, and I didn’t have anything to do, so I did these drawings at home, my own work, and my wife would go off to studios to do her own ink and paint work, and I showed them to Blechman, and [he] sent me up to The New Yorker.

J: To Lee Lorenz?

A: Yes, and I showed him some of my cover ideas and he said, “Ok, do a finish. We’re interested in buying two covers for The New Yorker. And I completely choked. “I said, Oh no, The New Yorker, what am I going to do?” I kept bringing in these drawings, and they just weren’t right. Meanwhile I had all these gag cartoons and little drawings. I was just doing funny drawings—they weren’t really cartoons, so I took them up, and they said, “We’d like to publish one.” So I started submitting cartoons, and I started selling.

Find this print here!

If there's anything that motivates me, it’s selling. I mean if you have a place… you’re focused, and I focused. By the end of the year, I sold a number of black and whites, but no covers, but it just kept going on. I just kept doing it and doing it, and ever so often putting in a cover... and finally I sold one cover, two covers, three covers… just doing New Yorker stuff

J: So you weren’t cartooning for anyone else?

A: No, but afterwards, sort of as I was doing this, I learned I could take the leftover roughs that they didn’t buy, and go to other magazines with them.

J: Wasn’t that kind of a social event, where cartoonists would go to all the different magazines in the city?

A: Well, Wednesday was called “Look Day,” and Sam [Gross] was very involved in that—of course Sam was involved in everything. And then there was the Cartoonists Guild, and I got involved in that.

J: Mort [Gerberg] was the president of that.

A: Yeah, and I got to be around cartoonists, and I was selling mainly to The New Yorker, so I just focused on that. After a while, they signed me to a contract, and I had years when I would sell 77 black and white cartoons.

J: That’s more than the issues they have per year!

Find this print here!

J: I was wondering, because you were already a mature artist when you started cartooning, did you experiment a lot with your style, or did it gel into place relatively quickly for you?

A: Well, there is a little space that I left out of this, which is while I wasn’t selling cartoons in the early days, I had notebooks, and I used to hang around in an art store in [Greenwich] Village, and I would fill them with funny drawings, and travel around, and when I was messagering… so I was really cartooning, but I didn’t have any place for them.

J: So as soon as you found a home for these drawings, everything came together?

A: Yes.

Find this print here!

J: With your career, you’ve been building towards things your whole life, and it almost seems like it just happened overnight, but it was actually years worth of working at it.

A: The first drawing that I sold, when I used to put stuff in the art show in [Greenwich] Village, the guys in the coffee shop, the beatnik guys, we would take some of my little sketches, and we would make little mats, and at the end of the end of the art show, people would leave, and leave spaces, so we would just throw my stuff up on the walls.

J: That’s one way to get into an art show!

A: I even got a write up in an Italian newspaper! But as soon as we’d make enough money for dinner, we’d head to the clam house—The Bocce House. That was a good time.

Find this print here!

Stay tuned for part two, which will be up next week! In the meantime, find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram! There is a Twitter as well. If you enjoy this blog, and would like to contribute a dollar or so to labor and maintenance costs, there is also a Patreon, and if you’d like to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi account as well!

[mr-entj]

MBTI Relationships: xxTJ and xxFP

Combined with the following asks:

Hi mr-entj fellow ENTJ here! I love your blog and I would like to ask you a question...What do you think a romantic relationship between an ENTJ and an ENFP would look like? What things would they argue about and how well would they get along? 

By reading your blog I am curious about your opinions on a relationship between an INFP and ENTJ? Are there troubles in which they might encounter that you could share? Many thanks!~Big fan from Singapore

INFP and ENTJ pairing? Is it possible?

As an INFP, I find myself highly attracted to the ENTJ type as they embody many of the qualities I admire although I do not unfortunately have too many in my lives (maybe Te but not exactly an ENTJ). Have you been with an INFP? What has that been like? Can you share? Thank you for your blog!

Input on an INFP (f) and ENTJ (m) match? I love your blog and I’ve read it over 3 times

Would the ENTJ and INFP chemistry survive in romance? What do you think? What about INTJ and INFP?

Not answering these questions. I’d rather tell you all a tale of three relationships– you figure out the message.

First, here’s the popular and widely accepted xxTJ/xxFP romantic relationship narrative recited 1000 times over on the internet:

Story #1: The FP Perspective (INFP, ISFP, ENFP, ESFP)

An FP and TJ meet each other, there’s instant chemistry, they find the conversation flows easily, and the connection grows quickly. Inevitably, they fall in love.

The FP is free-spirited, artsy, fun-loving, and passionate, but the TJ is stern, inflexible, insensitive, and stubborn. The FP just wants to pursue their passions in life and not be forced into the suffocating confines and expectations of society. The FP has picked up odd jobs here and there to create a perfect balance of work and leisure that fits their lifestyle. After a while, the FP feels pressured and attacked by the TJ to get a “real job”; they feel misunderstood by their significant other.

“I love you,” says the FP to the TJ. “I want to spend my life with you but I feel like you don’t respect me in this relationship and that you treat me like a child. I want to do what I want with my life because what’s the point of pursuing anything if you don’t enjoy it?”

“No,” says the TJ. “Give up your immature dreams and get a miserable 9-5 job. Practicality (x10). Money money money (x100). Go be a doctor/lawyer/businessman [insert Asian parent spiel here].”

“I don’t want to,” pleads the FP. “I want to be a [insert liberal arts/humanities/creative arts pursuit here].”

“Stop whining and stop being impractical. You’re never going to succeed in that,” replies the TJ coldly. “Give up on your hopes and dreams and do what I say. You’re so delusional, you’ll never make it.”

“I can’t be happy doing something I hate,” says the FP. “You’re trying to turn me into someone I’m not.”

“Too bad. Get over it,” says the TJ. “Get your shit together.”

The FP is stressed out by the abusive TJ and flees to Tumblr where they write a post complaining about Te being mean and oppressive.

Story #2: The TJ Perspective (ENTJ, ESTJ, INTJ, ISTJ)

An FP and TJ meet each other, there’s instant chemistry, they find the conversation flows easily, and the connection grows quickly. Inevitably, they fall in love.

The TJ is confident, focused, disciplined, and charismatic, but the FP is indecisive, flaky, lazy, and overly sensitive. While the TJ’s peers were goofing off and relaxing– the TJ made huge sacrifices in blood, sweat, and tears to pull ahead in life and achieve their goals. Now, the TJ wants to finally enjoy life after all that hard work in a loving and peaceful relationship when things suddenly hit a speed bump. The TJ wants to move into the next phase of life but the FP can’t finish school, can’t hold a stable job, and shows signs of unreliability that makes the TJ question the long-term viability of this relationship. After a while, the TJ feels drained and demoralized by the FP failing to get their shit together.

“I love you,” says the TJ to the FP. “I want to spend my life with you but you’re not at a point where we can do that. You should consider getting serious about your future. How are we going to move forward if you don’t take responsibility for many factors in your life?”

“No,” snaps the FP. “Stop trying to rush me and force me into a life of meaningless pursuits and misery. I told you that I’m still trying to figure things out, not everyone is a workaholic like you.”

“I’ve been patient while waiting to see what path you choose. You have my support but I can’t wait forever,” replies the TJ. “And I’m not willing to carry the burden of life by myself– there’s rent, utilities, groceries– I need help and we need to have a partnership if we want to start a life together.”

“You’re not supportive of my goals,” the FP accuses. “You’re forcing me to get a real job and to give up on my dreams. All you care about is money money money!” [Insert FP spiel accusing the TJ of materialism]

“No, what I said was--” starts the TJ.

“–I don’t want to talk about this anymore!” the FP snaps defensively, shutting down the conversation.

The TJ finds that they can never approach this topic with the FP without triggering a meltdown. The TJ has to decide if they can live with this reality or if they need to leave the relationship.

The FP is stressed out by the “abusive” TJ and flees to Tumblr where they write a post complaining about Te being mean and oppressive.

Story #3: The Happily Ever After

An FP and TJ meet each other, there’s instant chemistry, they find the conversation flows easily, and the connection grows quickly. Inevitably, they fall in love.

The TJ is confident, focused, disciplined, and charismatic, the FP is free-spirited, artsy, fun-loving, and passionate. The TJ spent the first half of their life pushing and hustling to get to where they are today, the FP spent the first half of their life wandering and exploring all the options to them until they found a pursuit their heart and mind agree with. Eventually, the two of them meet at a point in their lives when the TJ is ready to ease off the throttle, relax, and allow love in while the FP is ready to commit to a path, grow with another person, and find stability in a partner without sacrificing the individuality they hold so dear.

The FP admires that the TJ is strong, resilient, hardworking, loyal, and fiercely protective of loved ones. At times, the FP can see stubborness and insensitivity in the TJ but is able to communicate clearly and concisely when something isn’t appropriate. Underneath the armor, the FP discovers the TJ is deeply affectionate and intensely passionate.

The TJ admires that the FP is intensely committed to causes and careers meaningful to them, relentlessly brave in their pursuit, patient, loving, and loyal to the end. At times, the TJ can see oversensitivity and impracticality in the FP but is able to communicate clearly and concisely when something needs a solution. Underneath the exterior, the TJ discovers the FP is laser focused and tough as nails.

As parents, the TJ and FP are able to give guidance to the children in developing them into productive members of society that also make meaningful and lasting contributions to humanity. The children are surprised to find that in many situations the TJ is actually the softer parent who is prone to surrendering to cute requests while the FP is the hardass and often has to lay down the law. Together, they team up to create a fine balance of logic and passion to bring out the very best in their children.  

The two of them navigate their relationship like adults, expressing thoughts and emotions without throwing tantrums, supporting each other in endeavors meaningful to each other, and remaining committed to working on their relationship when issues arise. It’s not perfect, but it’s love.

The FP and TJ live happily ever after and nothing about this story is ever posted on Tumblr so no one knows about it. 

The End.

[simsinluxury]

                                                                                                                NaNa

As the smooth sounds of Avant filled the air I heard my alarm go off indicating somebody was coming through my front door. It was almost eleven o'clock and everyone was gone for the night. Seeing as though I had set the alarm I assumed it was one of my stylist or receptionist coming back because they forgot something. I was on my last client for the night and I was so damn ready to get off my feet and spend the night in my bathtub with the jets on high. Not to mention Gummy Bear been on one heavy today.

As I was clipping the last clip into my clients hair I heard somebody making their way up the stairs.

What did you forget?!

I called out.

Girl I don't work here! 

I didn't have to look up to tell who it was and if I wasn't so physically tired I would have bust out laughing but I let out a laugh mentally instead. She took a seat as I finished with my client. Five minutes later I was done and seeing my client out. 

Now you wanna tell me way you here so damn late?

Damn is that the hi you give your bestie?! I haven't seen your ass in two days.

I don't wanna hear it bish! I been calling your trifling ass for two days and even texted you. So yes that's the hi your ass get.

She bust out laughing at me.

I'm sorry boo, you forgive me right?

No.

She continued to laugh.

But I brought you gummy bears.

You can give me my damn gummy bears but I still don't forgive you.

Bear your momma is a grouch today ain't she.

I rolled my eyes.

Whatever.

She started to laugh once again.

No forreal I am sorry. I just need some space to clear my head boo.

To clear your head?

I gave her a raised eyebrow. I knew something must of happened for her to say this.

I don't know what the fuck is up with Jayhirad. Like since he got his studio up and running along with him working with the guys on the club he hasn't  been around really the past few weeks. So the other day I got tired of the shit. Like damn at least try to be home at a decent hour one day out the week you know. So I headed over to his studio to pay him a visit and take him his dinner. When I go there it was hella quiet and I didn't see him so I thought maybe he went with one of his friends somewhere and left his car there. So while I'm pondering my thoughts I hear a females voice but was like I think my ass is tripping because when I listened again I didn't hear anything. Something told me to go to his office, before I opened the door I heard the elevator. When I opened the door he looked shocked as hell to see me. Not only that this stank ass perfume scent was just lingering in the air. So when I asked him did I interrupt something and why he looked so shock to see me. He tells me he didn't hear me come in and he was finishing up a meeting. Shit just didn't feel right and not to mention he seemed so out of it. Like I knew what he was saying was bullshit, just like I felt when he lied about that Kimani shit. The scent was even in his damn shirt.

Wait a minute Bee, in his shirt? The bitch was that close to him that the shit was in his shirt?!

Yes NaNa.

What the fuck, did the room smell like they had sex or something?

No not at all, if it did I wouldn't have been able to keep from jumping on his ass. Girl I would have completely lost it. He didn't look like he had redress or anything either.

Humm, did you ask him about it?

I asked him was there something he wanted to tell me, of course he told me no. I told him cool, I didn't want to see him around the house anymore so pack his shit. He can move into the guess house outside or move completely but I don't give a fuck anymore.

Oh my gosh Bee you put his ass out.

I couldn't help but laugh somewhat because her ass was hella quick on shit.

Girl yes, fuck outta here.

Girl you know you are my sister but I don't know about this one Bee. Maybe some bitch was trying to come on to him.

Ok but NaNa why the fuck wouldn't he just tell me that?

Girl he a fucking man, you know they start being dumb as fuck when it comes to shit like this. I have no idea what they be thinking because them telling the truth about the shit is always the way to go verses them fucking lying about it. I mean look at the Kimani shit.

You're right you do have a point but still why would he think it was ok for him to lie about some shit like that after that Kimani shit. I'm so fucking done with him Natalia if I find the fuck out he lied to me about this bitch again. I was so serious with him when I told his ass he has no more fuck ups left.

Well for his own sake I hope he didn't lie about the shit but it is hella fishy. I know he probably flipped when you told him to pack his shit.

Girl you know he did, he refuses to move. He's been staying at a hotel since that night.

Has he tried calling you?

Girl yah, he started blowing my ass up the next day so I put him on the block list.

I fell out laughing.

Your ass is a fucking trip Bee. Where is Nina?

Girl probably at work somewhere, I swear she lives there. I'm just so happy to finally see her blossoming back into her old self before she met Troy. She keeps trying to move out on me every week and I act like I'm made at her each time, I'm not ready for her to leave me yet.

We both started laughing.

We talked for another hour along with us promising to meet up tomorrow before we called it a night and headed our separate ways home.

                                                                                                               Nina

I felt around the bed for my phone with my eyes still closed trying to shut of my alarm. Tired was an understatement. My body felt like dead ass weight and all I wanted to do was sink deeper into the covers and continue to catch z's. I sat up in bed as I tried to pull myself together.

Today was the day that my father would be coming home. If I wasn't so damn tired I would be bubbling over from excitement. My sister and I have been counting down this day for 2 months and I could kick my own ass for working so late last night. I was going to make a mental notice to really look in to expanding my staff because I worked more hours now than I did before I owned my own shit. I finally peeled out of bed and did my everyday morning routine.

As I was putting my shoes on I heard a knock on the door. 

I knew it was my sister seeing if I was ready.

Come in.

I called out. When she came in I noticed we were kind of dressed similar.

Oh my gosh again Bee!

Twin minds think alike!

I started laughing.

Clearly. Girl you driving because my ass is gonna tip over before we make it to the car.

So you just gonna leave me hanging and go to sleep on this two hour ride.

Even if I wanted to my eyes are not gonna stay open.

You are the worst riding partner I tell you.

She said laughing.

Well I know what riding I am good at.

I said winking at her.

NINA OH MY GOSH! You are so fucking nasty, it's too early in the morning for this shit!

I couldn't help but die laughing at her. Whenever I would say something sexual out my mouth it was like my sister would turn into the littlest fly and be ready to fly the fuck out of dodge. The shit was so funny to me every time. I grabbed my bag and we headed to leave. In another two hours I would be seeing my father after nine years, it still didn't seem real.  

                                               *Two Hours Later*

I felt Lyyn nudge me which caused me to open my eyes. I blinked a couple of times to adjust my eyes to the sunlight as I looked around.

I already went in, dad should be coming out in a few minutes.

Why didn't you wake me up?

Bish you were hella snoring.

I started to laugh as we got out the car.

I was not!

Yes you were, mouth hella open and shit.

She started to illustrate while trying to keep from laughing which made me laugh harder.

As we continued to goof around we heard someone clear their voice making us stop immediately and look in their direction. Silence took over for what seemed like minutes instead of seconds.  

So y'all just going to stand there and stare at your old man?!

A smile spread across his face as we embraced him. He kissed the top of our heads as he hugged us tight.

I missed you girls so much!

We missed you to dad!

Lyyn and I both said in unison. It was crazy how he still looked the same as I remembered after all these years, he hadn't changed a bit.

You ready to go dad?

Yes, let's get the fuck from here. If I have to look at this place any longer imma fucking start to itch.

Lyyn and I started to laugh as we made our way to the car.

Lyyn this you baby girl! Look at you!

He was checking out her car. My father always since I could remember has been our number one fan. If nobody in this world wanted us to succeed my father did. We could bring home a brown paper bag covered in macaroni noodles and glitter that we decorated, he would make us feel like that shit belonged in the museum of fine arts.

Oh my gosh dad stop!

Hell nah, don't make me start yelling like I use to do at your dance meets.

I couldn't hold my laughter in anymore.

My girls are grown ass woman man, I don't know how to deal. My girls are out here balling, I am so proud of y'all. I don't care how old you guys are I will still be that embarrassing extra ass father cheering y'all on.

We know dad.

Just making sure y'all didn't forget that, now let's go because I have been dreaming about steak and string beans for nine damn years.

We bust out laughing as we got in the car, my father was still a fool.

Dad do you need to stop anywhere before we go to my house.

No but we are going to my house.

Lyyn and I looked over at him.

Your house?

Yes, my house.

He told her the address as she typed it into her GPS. When we arrived my sister and I was in awe. The outside alone was beautiful, I couldn't imagine the inside.

No dad seriously, who's house is this.

He chuckled a little.

It's mine NiNi.

But how? When you went away you and mom lived together, we were a family.

Didn't I always teach you never to put all your cookies in one jar?

Yes.

This was me not putting all mines in one jar NiNi. Yes we were a family but I knew what I was doing. I knew it was a chance that shit could go south and I knew deep down that your mother eventually wouldn't be there if shit happened. I don't blame her for not holding me down because she begged me time and time again to leave shit alone but I wouldn't. It wasn't about the money anymore, we had more than we could spend in a lifetime. I just got to a point where I was comfortable and that's when I should have cut shit. I'm still set for the rest of my life but I would give all this shit up to get back the years I missed with you guys.

Dad.........

Yes Lyyn?

Do you think y'all will get back together?

Honestly that's a question that's way in the water right now. Like I said, I don't blame your mother for not being there for me. Now everything else she did sets me on fire. Rell has told me bits and pieces of shit but I know it's way more to it. On top of her keeping y'all away from me, I don't know what type of shit your mother is on but I do know I don't want someone in my life like that.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Lyyn broke it.

Well I'm ready to see your house dad!

Shit so am I, I barely remember it.

We got out laughing. Before we could get to the front door it opened, there stood a maid.

Welcome home Mr. Howard.

She said once we made it to the door.

Thank you Grace.

She smiled before she disappeared in the house.

Dad you have a damn maid, how and when?!

Lyyn started laughing at me.

Since yesterday.

He said winking before he walked inside. We explored this huge ass house until we made it back around to the kitchen where Grace was cooking.

My father excused himself to go take a shower and change. I looked at the food that Grace was preparing and frowned.

That shit didn't look good or done at all. I looked over to Lyyn and she was obviously thinking the same. I nicely excused Grace and told her she was finished for the day. I could tell she wanted to protest but decided it was best for her to not try me. She gathered her things and made her way out the door.

What the fuck is this?!

Lyyn was holding up a piece of chicken that Grace considered done and I couldn't help but to die laugh.  

Bish that shit is sick as fuck!

We doubled over in laughter.

Dad is gonna need to find another maid because this shit is fucking horrible yo. Who the fuck she thought was gonna eat this shit! I don't even see a hint of seasoning any where.

My fucking stomach hurt I was laughing so hard. We gathered up what we needed from the refrigerator to fix dinner and got started.

Another two hours later we were almost finished when my father came back down.

It smells good in here! Y'all ran Grace the fuck away?

Dad she was going to fuck your ass up!

I pointed to the chicken on the plate that she had considered cooked and he died laughing.

Y'all so got damn mean! Why y'all ain't help her ass out?

Dad I'm not helping no damn maid cook! You paying her ass all this money and you think imma help her learn how to cook? That's part of her damn job!

He continued to laugh at us and shake his head.  

Dad we gonna hire you somebody else because Grace ain't making the cut.

You girls are so damn mean...........

Before he could say anything else the door bell rang. He went to get it and came back with my brother in tow.

Oh gosh it just had to be you Ty'Rell!

Don't y'all start your shit today!

Whatever! Make yourself useful and help take some of this stuff to the dining room.

You see this dad? I haven't even been here five minutes and they already bossing me around!

Whelp, sucks for you son!

I stuck my tongue out at him and he mean mugged me but started grabbing shit like I told him.

That's why I hope your big headed ass trip and fall NiNi!

You're so damn evil Ty'rell!

My father chuckled as he listened at us going back and forth just like old times. When I came back into the kitchen I heard my phone ringing.

I didn't bother to look nor answer because I already knew who it was from the ringtone. That reminded me I needed to hurry and get everything I needed straighten out so I could change my number.

You're not gonna get that? This is the third time it has rang in the last two minutes.

I had blocked Troy's number but that wasn't enough for him. He now calls my phone from a private number.

It's nobody dad.

I tried to slip back out the kitchen but he wasn't having it.

Nina they are calling from private so it's somebody. I know I don't know shit about what's been going on in your life and that's a conversation we can save for another day but what I do know is I don't have a problem fucking somebody up for you, your sister, or your brother. I give no fucks when it comes to you guys and you know that. I won't press you right now but I know you been through some major shit with whoever is blowing you up. If that fucking phone rings one more time I am telling you I am going to answer it and make sure I find this motherfucker who can't get the picture. From here on out if a nigga is fucking with you or some shit happens you come and tell me. I don't care when, where or what time of day it is. Do you understand me?

Yes dad I understand.

With that he walked out of the kitchen. I hurried and grabbed my phone to turn it off.

I didn't want any drama or bullshit to pop off because off Troy's bitch ass and ruin this happy day for my family. I headed to the dining room to join them and took a seat. We laughed, joked, and brought up old memories the entire time through out dinner.

Afterwards we headed to the theater to watch some movies. 

I couldn't have asked for a better day with my family. After nine long years our dad was home and it felt like the missing chip was put back for all of us.

                                                                                                                   NaNa

Here I sat on a Saturday night stuffing my face with slices of pizza as I continued to watch the movie Get Out. I just couldn't understand this dude, why the hell did he continue to stick around. My ass would have been ghost as fuck soon as that bitch momma said she hypnotize people. She be trying to read your brain and see your memories in your sleep, no ma'am. Whatever happens to his ass is on him. He gonna act like shit wasn't alarming when he seen that dude running in the middle of the damn night, ninja that was your sign to get the fuck out! I was pulled out of my thoughts by the ringing of my phone.

I didn't bother to see who it was before I answered, by the ringtone I knew it was Nice.

Hello?

Oh no "Hey baby" today?

I rolled my eye like he could see me as I continued to watch the movie.

So your mean ass ain't gonna say shit?

I continued to ignore him which made him bust out laughing.

Ain't shit funny Nazar.

He laughed even harder which annoyed me more.

Damn you calling me my whole shit now, you that mad at me Na?

Whatever Nazar.

He chuckled.

Look you can be mad at me all your mean ass want but I don't care. I am making sure your hard headed ass does what your doctor tells you.

But it was just one damn day Nazar.

I know Na but I'm not taking no chances, besides you get off bedrest on Monday.

I sucked my teeth.

I missed my babes game today Nazar. I haven't missed a game since he started and you make me miss his last one.

"I missed my babes game".  

He said marking me.

You get on my damn nerves Nazar. You just mad because I'm not calling your ass my baby.

He once again started laughing.

That's why Major's ass so damn spoiled yo, you always babying him. I recorded it for your mean ass.

Whatever you know that's my baby and I can't wait to see it.

I bet.

He sounded hella jealous, now it was my turn to laugh.

I know your ass is not jealous Nazar?

When he didn't answer I continued to laugh.

Your ass is ridiculous.

Whatever him and Jaz always blocking trynna hold you all to themselves.

Although I was laughing I found it cute he didn't like to share me.

Aww baby stop it.

On the real though, is your ass in bed?

I'm on the couch Nazar.

Your ass is supposed to be in the bed Natalia not on the damn couch.

Oh my gosh come on Nazar I am sitting the hell down. Y'all gonna stop acting like I can't do shit because I'm pregnant. I wanted to sit up I can't lay in that bed all damn day.

Your ass so damn hard headed NaNa.

Ok your ass try being 5 months pregnant and feeling like you carrying two babies instead of one. Every time you lay down your ass can't get comfortable.

I'm not trying to stress you, I'm sorry Na.

That's what the fuck I thought.

I just want you two to be fine.

Baby we are fine, I would never do something to hurt our baby you know that.

I know Natalia. Did your mom leave for the night?

Yah, my grandmother needed her so I told her to go ahead I'd be fine.

Ok, I should be home in another hour or so. You know this damn bus take forever like shit.

I chuckled a little, he always complained about having to take the bus with the other parents and kids.

Ok.

I love you and my little mans.

There you go, you gonna stop calling my baby your mans.

I don't know how many times we gotta go through this, it's a boy.

You don't know that Nazar.

I do so he's my little mans.

I tell you he gets on my damn nerves.

Whatever, I love...........

Before I could finish what I was saying I heard a loud noise like glass had been shattered.

NaNa what the fuck was that?

I don't know but the shit sounded close as hell like it was one of the windows. I'm getting ready to see what the fuck it was, hold on.

I took the phone away from my ear but kept it in my hand as I got up.

I could hear Nice now calling my name through the phone. As I walked into the sitting room I noticed one of the windows had been completely shattered and there was glass all over the floor.

What the fuck!

Instantly my blood started to boil. This was nobody's doing but Taysha's fucking ass. I am so fucking sick of this bitch ass hoe. It was like because she knew she couldn't whoop my ass she started to do dumb shit to try to fuck with me. I guess she got tired of getting her ass beat. Before I could answer Nice back a man appeared out of nowhere scaring the shit out of my ass making me scream and drop my phone.

When he saw me start backing away he came at me full speed. Before I knew it I felt an excruciating pain rip through my abdomen.

It took for me to see the knife to fully register that he was stabbing me. I couldn't scream or talk. I could barely breathe as I dropped to my knees and he took off running.

I started to crawl to reach my phone but with ever move I could feel the blood gushing from my stomach.

Tears started rolling down my face because I knew I was losing my baby. I knew he or she wasn't going to make it and it was a strong possibility I wasn't either. The harder I cried the more I couldn't breathe. Before I knew it my body started to completely shut down and I couldn't do anything.

Previous

[jacewilliams1]

Lake Placid: anything but

It was mid-spring of 2017, and I had about three months on my shiny new fixed-wing license. I’d been flying Apache attack helicopters for the Army for 16 years and had finally gotten off my butt that spring and gotten my fixed-wing ratings. Up until that time, my flying had been purely for work and the thought of “flying for fun” was a bit of a novelty.

Stationed at Fort Drum, New York, I had conducted many training flights out to the Adirondacks, fueling at Saranac Lake (SLK) and often flying over Lake Placid (LKP). We never landed there as the runway would not support the 17,500 lb Apache, nor did they have jet fuel. I always wanted to stop there, though. The little bowl that the airport and town of Lake Placid sits in is beautiful and the town is within walking distance of the airport.

On a free weekend, with beautiful weather (sunny, warm, with a steady 15-20 knots out of the WSW) I called up two of my friends from work, Laura and Amanda, and offered a trip out to Lake Placid for the afternoon. Both of them are also Apache pilots, and we had all just returned from a deployment together that winter. They both eagerly agreed and we met up at the Watertown International Airport (ART). Despite being the about size of a McDonald’s, Watertown does have flights from Canada so they wear the “international” moniker. This would be my first flight ever that had no specific training/mission objective (civilian or military). Simply recreational.

I arranged for one of the two 172s available for rent on the field and off we merry three went. We made good time eastbound towards the mountains. Despite the wind, the air was stable and smooth even at the 1000 ft “sight-seeing” altitude I held along the way. (Mind you, for three attack helicopter pilots, anything above about 1000 feet above the ground seems rather unnecessary.)

After 16 years of flying attack helicopters, what could possibly go wrong in a Cessna 172?

And it’s worth noting at this point that that little Cessna now contained the collective experience of over 30 years of aviation, almost 10,000 hours of helicopter time, over ten years of combat deployments and less collective airplane hours than we had years on this earth.

As we got into the lower Adirondacks, we found a few bumps being generated by the terrain, but still a very comfortable ride. I swung the flight north to line up for a low pass over the Saranac Lake (Adirondack Regional) runway 23, as it had an ILS and I wanted to test my new handheld radio that had an ILS function. Test complete: Success! Departing 23, we turned left, direct for Lake Placid making calls on Unicom to an otherwise empty sky.

At this point, we were having a blast! Just flying around, goofing off was so very unusual to the normally serious and brooding personality of an attack helicopter pilot. Laura had some fixed-wing training before the Army and had been doing most of the flying to this point, Amanda was in the back with my iPad navigating us around with ForeFlight (new to all of us), and I was just enjoying the whole experience.

I switched us over to the Lake Placid Unicom and began making calls stating we were inbound from the northwest. Not a lot of traffic that day, I noted. As a matter of fact, the frequency was absolutely silent. The first half of the 13 mile leg was uneventful and had us all peering over the dash looking for the runway, which was just ahead. We were lined up with runway 14, and, with winds generally out of the west, I told my “crew” I’d enter a left downwind, check winds and planned on landing 32. I ran through the before landing checks from the laminated checklist card and right about then Laura announced she had the field in sight.

Then a bump. Not a vertical bump one would expect on a warm summer day, but a fairly stiff bump with a bit of roll. “No big deal,” I thought. Some mechanical turbulence is to be expected in the mountains. We fly out here all the time and feel a few bumps anytime it’s windy.

Two miles out and maneuvering into a left downwind, the air around that little Cessna had become rather unstable. “Anyone see the wind sock?” I can’t remember who first saw the tetrahedron that adorns the field, but I remember thinking, “Every time I look at the damn thing, it’s pointing a different direction!” At this point I was fighting to correct the attitude of the little plane every five or ten seconds. At one point, passing very close to the 1980s Olympic ski jump towers (which are mid-field in the downwind), I had the yoke to the roll stop for what seemed like a very long time. I remember very distinctly hitting the stop, the plane was still near 30 degrees in roll and not correcting and I thought, “Well, surely it’s gotta roll back eventually…” It did, and I continued to fight the turbulence around to final. I made a quick radio call, set flaps to the second notch and pulled out the rest of the power. We were not descending. In fact, the altimeter was bobbing up a bit!

The terrain under this leg of the pattern at Lake Placid rises up, away from the runway. I realized fairly quickly that we were in a mechanical updraft caused by the westerly winds climbing up the mountain to our rear. Still more turbulence. I deployed full flaps, fighting with the yoke with both hands and nosed the plane over in an effort get us down to what some could argue would “look” like a glide path. The approach end of the runway began to get swallowed up by the dash and my pride took a back seat to my aviator’s sensibility. “Well, shoot…” I muttered and applied power, brought the flaps up and radioed for a go-around.

At this point, it hadn’t occurred to me, but the once busy intercom had been deathly silent for quite a while now. As I turned left crosswind, I looked over and back at my “crew.” There wasn’t any fear in their expressions, but we were all definitely back to “serious and brooding” mode. The yoke made yet another journey to the stops in the downwind and I thought to myself, “If this one doesn’t work, we’re going to Saranac.” I made my turns for base and final with no flaps and at a considerably lower altitude this time. Still fighting the yoke, we crossed the tree line with and headed for the numbers. Just as we rolled out and began the flare, as if to say “You’re not done yet!” a gust of wind tried its best to blow us off the right side of the runway. Touchdown was made unceremoniously to the right of the centerline with a fair bit of lateral pull as I struggled to recover the plane back away from the grass.

A beautiful town, but not the flattest terrain.

The mood lightened considerably by the time we stopped at the fuel pump. We all hopped out and talked as the attendant topped off the plane. Once finished, I asked the man where he wanted us to move the plane to, as we would be there a few hours. He looked at the plane, looked at the pump, then looked around and said, “I don’t think anyone’s gonna’ be through here today. You can just leave it.”

We then walked into town, talking about the crazy turbulence and how much different a 3000 lb plane is than Apache. (DUH!) We had a great time in Lake Placid, having lunch at an outdoor café and checking out all the shops and of course, letting our inner children buy us some candy from a candy store. It wasn’t until on the walk back when it dawned on me. I stopped walking and exclaimed, “Wait a minute!” What the airport attendant was really saying was, “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be through here today. EXCEPT YOU IDIOTS!” We had a good laugh at that one!

I made our departure using the whole runway to get the best speed before peeking over the tree line, then transitioned us into a best climb attitude and headed for an altitude that would provide relief from the washing machine below.

The journey back was slow with the nearly direct 20-knot headwind. Along the way, I noted all the somewhat remote lakes we flew over, as they were the only option for a survivable forced landing in this country. At one point, I took notice of a boat speeding across a rather remote lake. On a second look, I saw the boat had stopped and its wake was in the shape of a tight “J”, as if it made a sharp 150 degree turn and stopped. I looked at it out the right windows with a frown for a bit and Laura asked me “What is it?” I expressed concern that if that boat caught a bad bounce and the driver was ejected, that could be a bad deal. The waters up here were still pretty cold and that’s a remote lake. From 2000 ft it was hard to tell…

Now we were all looking at the boat as it passed behind the right wingtip. As if to satisfy the unspoken requests of my friends (I knew they were thinking it… so was I), I reduced the throttle, began a descent and turned toward the little boat. I swung around the lake at a little below 1000 ft and circled left around the boat. As we came around we saw the craft start to move again and collectively, we all let out a kind of “Oh, okay. They’re good.”

A few minutes later and back on courses, Amanda announced, “Dude! Do realize how ironic that was?” “Three Apache helicopter pilots (hunter/killers), in a Cessna airplane, doing Search and Rescue Ops?!?!” The three of us had a few good minutes of laughter on that one! Still joke about it today.

The intercom was quiet once again on our approach into Watertown. I think nerves were still a bit tender over the landing at Placid. The landing was uneventful, and it may just be in my mind, but I remember it as being the smoothest landing I have ever made in an airplane to date!

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from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2018/10/lake-placid-anything-but/