#like a rolling stone has been stuck in my head since I bought the tickets and I’m not mad about it

[nodirectionhome-ao3]

Finally seeing the Bob Dylan movie today😊 Very excited!

[4birds-of-a-feather]

Chapter 27 - Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight (when it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night) [part 1]

Birds Of a Feather

(title credits: What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?, Ella Fitzgerald)

Eddie had almost finished his third cigarette when, from the distance, he noticed a silhouette running in his direction while waving its arms around – his lips curled into a smile and, before he had completely crushed the cig under a boot, the person had finally reached him. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Ed” Sara managed to mutter, panting like she had just run the New York Marathon “I had to bring The Godfather I and II back – and you know how Video Isle is literally on the other side of town – and then I caught a bus at the last second and also literally threw myself off of it when it didn’t seem to stop at that bus stop over there and-” “Hey, no problem at all: I already bought the tickets for both of us-no, don’t start with all that ‘you didn’t need to buy mine too’ bullshit, I wanted to do it” he stopped her protests, gaining a snort and a scowl from the girl (though her red cheeks and nose didn’t manage to make her look threatening in the least) “I’m sorry you had to go to the trouble of going to another store, sounds like you had quite the Odyssey” “Nah, don’t worry: it was quite good, I also found a couple of movies that I need for an exam and that El hasn’t been able to book for me, so it’s a total win-win” she grinned at him, taking the ticket he was handing to her and suddenly running toward the entrance “Popcorn is on me and that’s mandatory!” The guy shook his head laughing but followed her nonetheless.

************************************************************************************************ Layla was standing in the middle of her room, carefully examining the pile of clothes she had scattered on the bed. “Ok, I gotta make a selection now or I will still be here for the midnight countdown” she sighed and started grabbing and putting stuff back in the closet. “It’s New Year’s Eve so no sad colors… and no pants!” she put away all her pants and jeans, leaving out the skirts. The girl held up her denim mini skirt and let out a brief cackle as she remembered Eddie’s drunk rant about that particular piece of clothing; she shook her head and put the skirt away, then spotted a blue velvet micro dress. “... Jesus, I totally forgot this even existed” she recalled having worn it only twice, and both times it was with her ex boyfriend. The memory immediately made her throw the dress back into the closet, although she told herself the reason was it was a little too skimpy for a house party. “What about this?” Layla was now looking at a red lacey longsleeve, walked over to the mirror and held the top against herself to see if it could go. “Yeah, the color is great! But I’ll need a darker skirt to match” the choice fell on a black leather skirt which was basically the shortest one she owned. “Uhm… will it be too much?” she ended up trying on the skirt over her house clothes “Nuh, not that bad: nude tights and Docs and it’ll go” she clapped her hands and the doorbell rang right at that moment. Layla went to see who it was and didn’t think too much about it. “Hi, guys! Thank you for coming to help setting things up but you didn’t need to show up so early” she excitedly told Mike and Elias, letting them in. “Early? You told us like twenty times to be here at half past five, I even set an alarm! Anyway, very nice choice, you look great” Elias smirked, eyeing the girl from head to toe. Mike couldn’t punch him because his hands were busy carrying a big box full of stuff for the party and instead was about to stomp not so lightly on his foot but Layla was too shocked to be concerned with her Earth Day t-shirt stuck into her skirt and grey track pants underneath. “HALF PAST FIVE?? IS IT HALF PAST FIVE ALREADY?!” she started hyperventilating and bolted into her room, leaving the two guys standing dumbfounded in the hallway. “AND WHERE IS STONE?” she asked her friends as she passed them by again, sprinting into Sara’s – once Jeff’s – room. “He’s parking the car, he’ll be here in a minute… errrrr-where can I put this stuff?” McCready asked, struggling to keep the balance because of the heavy carriage. “Oh! Thank you Mikey, give it to me” Layla came out and snatched the box from the guitarist’s hands, then carried it easily to the kitchen as it weighed nothing, something that made him suddenly feel self-conscious. “I love strong women” Elias remarked and this time Mike was able to slap him on the nape. 

************************************************************************************************ “So… no Tom Hagen? He dies before the movie can even start? Just like that?” Ed muttered in disbelief, his mouth half-full with popcorn. “Fuckin’ bullshit, I can’t believe it...” the girl shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose in order to find some patience to endure the outrageous truth “They had the nerve to tell both my second favorite character of the whole saga and Robert Duvall to fuck off! Who let this happen??” “But who’s gonna be the new Consigliere? I mean, he was a brilliant lawyer and has worked with three Dons, how can you substitute someone like-” “I fuckin’ knew that filming this goddamn thing after 15 years would have meant turning everything into a giant pile of shit… Fuck my life” Sara sighed, dejectedly watching Sofia Coppola awkwardly flirting on screen with Andy García “UGH, look at her! She looks constipated, just look at her disgusted expression…! I can’t keep on watching this, who the fuck allowed this casting?!” “... did you seriously just ask me why the director’s daughter was chosen for a part in her father’s movie?” 

************************************************************************************************ “The number 1 should be a little more to the left, it’s too close to the 9… Yes, a little bit more… No, too much! Yeah, that’s it, Layla, good” Stone was leaning against the wall in the living room eating popcorn, giving orders to his friends “Elias, would you please stop checking her but-ehm, I mean, holding her ladder? It’s pretty safe, she doesn’t need your help. But those sparkly banners do, they won’t hang up by themselves... And come on Mike, with those balloons! We don’t have the whole day” “Are you kidding me? I’ve been blowing fucking balloons for an hour, I’ll have no breath left by the new year’s countdown!” Mike protested. “Ok, Mikey, don’t get all worked up for nothing. I was just saying that… you could do it a little bit faster maybe, I don’t know” Gossard innocently remarked with a shrug. “FASTER?? WHY DON’T YOU DO WHAT YOU’RE DOING A LITTLE BIT FASTER TOO? OH WAIT, YOU CAN’T, BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT DOING ANYTHING!” Mike blurted out, throwing a deflated balloon towards the other guitarist that missed the target and hit the wall beside him. “Oh oh pleeeease, you had no idea what to do before I arrived... You’d still be unpacking and playing with those party hats if I didn’t come and tell you what to do” Stone chuckled and Mike took a deep breath. “Come on guys, each one of us has a task” Layla tried to calm the two guitarists. “Yeah, Stone’s task is to get on people’s nerves” Elias remarked. “... And Mike’s and Elias’s task was to stick party cones into their noses, right?” Gossard smirked. “Actually, I had them in my ears” Elias pointed out and Layla rolled her eyes and got down from the ladder. “There! What do you think?” the girl looked proudly at the big number-shaped balloons she had just hung on the wall. “Uhm, well…” Mike mumbled something as Elias simply squinted at the decoration. “I think… that I really can’t wait for the Versailles Peace Conference, Jesus!” Stone exclaimed, barely holding back a laugh. “... What?” Layla frowned. “Your eyes are pretty, El, but I think you should put your glasses on” the guitarist kept on teasing her while the other two were shaking with laughters. Layla took the glasses she had left on the kitchen table, put them on and just snorted when she read 1919.

************************************************************************************************ “She’s useless but I love how she’s dressed – the yellow skirt was so pretty too!” Sara gushed over Mary Corleone’s latest outfit, a black tailleur matched with a cute hat of the same shade “... Holy Vittorio De Sica, I’m spending too much time with Maux” “Who’s Maux?” “Just a friend of mine who studies Fashion Design… now please, shut the fuck up because I wanna see if this storyline is heading where I think it’s heading – please, for once in my life I’d really like to be wrong about something” “Hmm-hm, judging from the sultry looks I think they’re almost there” Eddie munched a few popcorn, his grin growing wider when he heard her almost retch. “Oh yes, we Italian people get horny while making pasta together! Look at that chemistry born amongst the flour and-wait a minute, is he sobbing because he’s gettin’ an erection over his cousin??? I’m not watching this, I won’t be an accomplice to this disgust-EW, ABORT!” she covered her eyes but kept on peeping through her fingers, while the guy let out a hearty chuckle. “Didn’t know you guys had such strong bonds with your cousins…” he teased her, laughing even more when she let out a torrent of words that he couldn’t understand but that he knew were the best insults she could muster at that moment. At the end of the projection he had to ask for their translation, he simply had to. 

************************************************************************************************ “I’m home!” Jeff yelled as he shut the door with a kick, since he was carrying shopping bags and couldn’t use his hands. “Hi, Jeff!” Layla answered from the living room. She had just arranged the balloon-numbers in the right order and now was laying a red cloth on the large table “Oh, and be careful to the-” She couldn’t even finish the sentence and Ament got caught in the gold foil curtain Mike had just hung over the doorway. “WHAT THE… WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” the bass player struggled to get free and almost let the groceries fall but instead managed to save them and enter the room. “It was Layla’s idea!” Elias raised his hands as he made eye contact with him. “Well, isn’t it nice? A magical entrance to a magical party!” Layla grinned nervously and made a mental note of getting back at him on the first occasion. “Yeah yeah, you know what would be very magical? SOMEONE HELPING ME WITH THESE FUCKING BAGS!” Jeff struggled to reach the kitchen until the girl finally helped him. “Thank you Jeff, you’re the best! Did you find everything?” she asked as she started to pick up the food from the paper bags. “Yeah… pretty much…” “He surely found the most important stuff!” Stone added from outside the kitchen, as he was bringing up beer and wine cases he and Mike had unloaded from Jeff’s truck. “Oh, you took whipped cream too! Good idea, Jeff! I can use it for something last-minute” Layla remarked as she took the can out of the bag. “Thanks but I didn’t do anything, it was on the list” Ament shrugged nonchalantly. “No, it wasn’t” “Yes, it was” he repeated and was about to help her, but the girl started rummaging faster and faster through the bags until she nervously tore the last one off Jeff’s hands. “No no no… tell me it’s a joke” “What the fuck is wrong with you now?” Jeff earned judgemental looks from his friends and corrected himself “Err-I mean, what are you looking for, darling?” “Whipping cream. Where is it?” “It’s right there in front of you” the bass player repeated as he pointed at the same can the girl mentioned before. “No, it’s not. That is whipped cream – I asked you for whipping cream, that’s what I wrote in the list” Layla almost whined. “Isn’t it just the same?” Mike asked, hoping not to start a war with that. “NO! I wanted to make chocolate ganache” she explained as it was the simplest thing in the world. “And… so?” it was Stone who broke the tumbleweed moment of silence. “You can’t make ganache with whipped cream, how will the chocolate melt? You gotta boil whipping cream and add chocolate and butter” “Uhm you… can’t you just microwave chocolate and then, you know, mix it with the whipped cream?” Elias came up with a solution and Jeff could see one of Layla’s eyes starting to nervously twitch. “No. I can’t do that.” she said and everyone took a sigh of relief because they were already expecting the worst reaction. “Do you think you can come up with a different recipe for the cakes, Layla?” Stone asked cautiously “If you can’t, I’m sure Jeff will be glad to go out and buy the right cream for you – right, Jeffrey?” “Fat chance” mumbled his bandmate. “Oh no, it’s freezing out there, I’ll never let you go out again just for that. I’ll think about something else” the girl was now her usually sweet self and just shrugged. <Disaster averted> Mike thought as he went back to help Stone with putting away alcohol in the kitchen. “Jeff, please, since you’re here, would you please move the furniture as I start cooking?” the girl asked him. <He can’t read shopping lists but at least he’s strong> “Why is this my apartment and you’re the one giving all the orders?” he squinted at her and Layla took him by the arm and led him to the middle of the living room. “Jeff, please! Ehm… do you really think I could ask those three?” she whispered and they both looked towards the kitchen, where Elias was spraying whipped cream in his open mouth directly from the can. “... Alright” he nodded and took off his jacket. “I’ll begin with the appetizers, so we can put them on the table and make space here” the girl added, walking back into the kitchen. <Maybe she won’t notice I ate all the bugles on the way home…> the bassist thought as he put his hands on the backrest of the armchair.

************************************************************************************************ “The Italian Communist Party welcoming the Corleones to Sicily with a banner! This is glorious, I’m so glad I didn’t miss it” Sara exclaimed, her sides already hurting because she was laughing too much. “Oh, so now you’re glad you’re watching this mess?” “Ed, you can’t understand: this is simply hysterical, it’s even better than hearing that pathetic excuse they keep on using as Italian languag-like that! Did you hear it? Oh fuck, it was so bad… I just wanna cry” “You sure look like someone who’s enjoying this” “Fake laughter to hide my real pain” she clutched dramatically at her chest, one hand flying towards her face in a gesture of exaggerated discomfort.

************************************************************************************************ “MIKEY! CAN YOU COME HERE, PLEEEASE!” the guys heard Layla call and the girl startled the guitarist right when he was about to grab something to eat from the table. <What the fuck? Did she put cameras?> McCready thought, as he looked up around the living room. “Hahaha, it’s not like she can see you, you dork” Jeff laughed. “Actually, she doesn’t need to see you, she already knows what you were doing” Stone remarks. “Now you’re screwed, man” Elias shook his head and then he happily put a sandwich in his mouth. “MIIIIIKE!” “Why only me and not you?” the guitarist complained as he watched him stuffing his face freely. “Sorry” Elias shrugged and the other two snickered in silence. “ALRIGHT, WHERE ARE YOU, LAYLA?” Mike timidly yelled as he was about to leave the room. “I’M IN MY ROOM, CAN YOU COME HELP ME WITH SOMETHING?” Mike smiled to himself. <Maybe she’s not calling me to scold me for stealing food, but it can be a tactical move… I’d better not let the guard off> “Hey! Maybe I can come help her too now that I-” Elias started to say but Mike put his finger against his mouth. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, then shrugged cheerfully and started to walk across the hallway, up to Layla’s bedroom, where he knocked on the door. “Come in!” the girl let Mike in, then shut the door right behind his back and whispered to the singer “Did you manage to go to the hardware store? You know, to buy those things I asked you?” “Oh! Yes, I did! I had almost forgot, sorry” McCready confirmed. “And you didn’t say or show anything to the guys, right? You know it was a secret, don’t you?” Layla wiggled her brows and he nodded, although he still wasn’t sure what she would need that weird toolkit for. “Sure, I kept it all hidden and slipped the bag into Jeff’s-I mean, Sara’s room as you asked” he replied. “Well done! Thank you, Mikey. You can go back with the guys now” “You’re not gonna kill me for stealing food, then?” “DID YOU STEAL FOOD? Come on, it’s for the party!” the girl’s smile disappeared from her face all of a sudden. “Of course not! I was just kidding! Gotta go now… see what those jerks are up to, you know” Mike left the room both awkwardly and quickly and Layla sighed, then left too and tiptoed to Sara’s room, sneaking in. She looked at the cute and fancy jumpsuit she had picked from Sara’s closet and remembered when she first saw it: Sara had spotted it at a thrift shop where they had gone together and had fallen in love with it instantly. It was ocean blue, sleeveless and with golden decorations embroidered all over it that represented the zodiac signs. It was simply adorable and, seeing her friend doing puppy eyes at the garment, Layla had immediately decided to buy it for her as a present. But Sara hadn’t worn it once yet. <I wanna see my present finally put into good use…> she thought <This is gonna be the perfect occasion> The only problem was: would Sara agree with Layla’s decision? That was why she had Mike buy her something that could give Sara a little push in the right direction…

************************************************************************************************ On screen Mary Corleone had just fallen under the bullets, while her mother’s desperate cries were already filling the air. Sara was about to give a sarcastic comment on Andy García’s monotone shout, when suddenly the first notes of Cavalleria Rusticana started to play; she immediately forgot her previous idea and focused her entire attention on what was happening on screen: Al Pacino was silently screaming into the void – the perfect embodiment of suffering, just like the famous Munch’s painting – and kept on doing it for forty endless seconds, until he let himself collapse on the stairs. She felt a shiver down her spine. Then, just when she had remembered to breath again, the screen erupted with images of Michael Corleone dancing with his daughter, but with Apollonia and Kay too – and all of that melted as she felt some tears rolling down her cheeks. Now Michael was sitting outside, very much older and still reminiscing much happier times of his life, and the crescendo of the music accompanied his fall on the ground – just like his father had once done. By the end of the scene, Sara was sobbing uncontrollably.     

************************************************************************************************ The doorbell rang and Stone went to open the door since Jeff was helping Elias with the stereo (that is, Jeff was doing all the work) and Mike was busy in the kitchen with Layla. The girl smartly decided that the best way to keep an eye on him and prevent him from finishing all the food before the party even started was to make him work. “HO HO HO SANTA’S HERE!” a feisty Cornell appeared outside the door, holding a case of beer and waving it around dangerously as if he was ringing a Christmas bell. “Christmas was last week, Chris” Stone smirked and backed away a little from the door. “Oh, did I say Santa? I meant Satan. SATAN’S HERE!” “Hail, Satan! Give it to me” Jeff showed up and took the beer from Cornell’s hands to prevent a disaster, then went to put it in the fridge. “Don’t tell me I’m the first party guest… that’s so… not cool” Chris stated after he tried to enter the living room and got stuck in the middle of the foil curtain, only to be untangled and saved by Elias, who had come to the rescue. “It’s still early! Hi, Chris” Layla came out of the kitchen, cleaning her hands on the apron she had put over her fancy outfit. “I correct myself. That’s a good thing I came early so I can take my time to introduce myself properly to this beautiful piece of princess!” Chris took the girl’s hand and half of his speech was actually mumbled against Layla’s fingers, before he actually kissed her hand in a long romantic gesture. “Err… ok” Layla half smiled, not knowing what to do as she waited to get her hand back. “You may be the first one at this party but I guess you started a party on your own way before” Stone remarked and Jeff chuckled. “Forgive them, honey. They’re like… like… how do you call ‘em? You know, the Flintstones…” Chris kept ranting, keeping Layla’s hands in hostage. “... Cavemen?” Elias suggested. “Cavemen! Exactly! They don’t know the manners” the singer snapped his fingers at the correct answer then gave Layla a drunk smile. “And you know them so well, you use them every single time, right?” the bassist joked. He couldn’t decide what was more funny: Cornell’s intoxicated state or Layla’s awkwardness. He set up for both and went on to enjoy the show. “What the-” the singer frowned but was then interrupted by Mike, who wanted to spare him the embarrassment. “What Jeff and Stone are trying to say is that you already know Miss Boulais here” “Who?” “Layla” Mike repeated. “The girl who must have a desensitized hand by now” Stone added and pointed at the girl in the center of the room. “Oh sorry, darling!” Chris let go of Layla’s hand and then continued, turning to look at the guys and pointing at the girl, as if she couldn’t hear him “Anyway, what the fuck are you talking about?! I’d remember if I had met... such a… a megababe like this before” “I introduced you and Matt to her and her friend, Sara, don’t you remember?” McCready explained. “Another one? Was it a babefest or something?” Cornell kept on whispering in an actually very loud way. “They’re the neighbours… Sara is the one who slapped Jeff in the face after our first show… Layla is her vet friend” Stone added some info to the scenario. “Why do you always have to mention that episode?” Ament whined, rolling his eyes. “Matt did the other time, I’m innocent” Gossard raised his hands laughing at his bandmate’s face. “Yeeeeah! I do remember now! Sorry sweetie, I blame the shots of tequila I did with Kim before leaving, I’d never forget such a glorious slap” the singer took Layla’s hand again and the guys almost simultaneously facepalmed. “Not her! Her friend did!” Elias pointed out. “Oh! Sorry, well, you know, tequila and everything... what I said before... But where the fuck is Kim? How long do you take to find a fuckin’ parking place in this fuckin’ neighborhood...” Chris kept ranting as he made his way to the window and left the girl dumbfounded in the middle of the room, as the other three guys were doubled over with laughter.

************************************************************************************************

“So…” Ed cleared his throat, hands shoved inside the pockets of the jacket “Want to talk about it?” Sara, still feeling wobbly on her feet, shot him an icy glare and grunted: “Talk about what?” “About what happened back there… I-I’ve never seen anyone before having such a strong reaction to-” “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose” she sniffled, careful to avoid his inquisitive glance. “Yeah, but you surely can agree with me that this whole ordeal is a bit too much; I mean, don’t misunderstand me, I don’t wanna sound patronizing but-” he let out a long sigh “You know you can talk to me, right?” “We’ve met two months ago, I don’t see how you could be the right person for all this hypothetical venting I’m supposed to do” the girl retorted, picking up the pace like she wanted to lose him. “And that’s where you’re wrong, because you and me – we have the same trauma”  Sara turned around abruptly: “I don’t have any fuckin’ trauma! Don’t try to psychoanalyze me or project your own bullshit on me just because you’re fucked up and it makes you feel better, I won’t be your accompl-” she roared, but stopped when the guy took her by the wrist. “... I know what it means to lose a loved one” In response, the girl looked at him with wide eyes full of tears, then yanked herself free and started to run. “Hey! HEY! WAIT!” Eddie immediately followed her, cursing his big mouth “What the fuck’s wrong with me? Was it really necessary to push her like that?!” He saw her taking a couple of turns and ending in a small alley, where he almost bumped into her; she was leaning against the wall, with her hands supporting her and the knees a bit bent. Her breath was short and, at first, he thought it was because of that impromptu marathon she had just finished to run, but he quickly realized that something else was going on. “Hey…” he croaked, trying to speak as softly as he could “You okay?” “Just peachy” she managed to mutter, between a ragged breath and another “This is routine, nothing to wrap your pretty little brain around” “Routine?” “Look,” the girl finally looked at him, her face oddly pale “I just have a heart murmur – some congenital shit, okay? That’s fine, I just have to live with this… it’s no big deal, really” Eddie felt a wave of sympathy towards her, and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder; she was still shaking and, when he touched her, she startled, though she quickly regained a bit of composure.  “Sara… that’s not a heart murmur – or, at least, it’s not just that” “And what the fuck is this supposed to mean, huh? Are you majoring in Medicine, Doc? Did you suddenly develop an interest in cardiovascular diseases? What the-” “You’re having a panic attack” Ed interrupted her, mildly squeezing her shoulder “And quite a serious one, I must add” “You mustn’t, chief” she hissed back, shaking his hand off and wobbling towards the main street “I’m heading back home, El is going to have a fit if I’m not in time for the party” “Since when are you having these crisis, Sara?” “I told ya, it’s congenital – I was born with this, it runs in the famil-”“I meant the panic attacks” “... That’s not what they are” she stubbornly quickened her pace, not wanting to hear him blabber around like the clever meddler he was. “I think you should see someone – talk to somebody, maybe they can also prescribe something that could help you… It’s unnatural living like that, you don’t have to do this to yourself” “I’m not going to see a shrink, case closed” the girl cut short “Now lemme go home and do me the favor of keeping your big mouth shut… oh, and also-” “I will arrive at the apartment 10 minutes later than you, so anybody won’t suspect we have spent the afternoon together, I get it” “... you’d better do that” she gave him a last icy glance and turned around, disappearing among the crowd. Eddie sighed: he hadn’t offered to accompany her back because he knew she would have refused but, seeing how much she was still shaking, he was already regretting his decision.

[thisvaryingexistence]

My thoughts on Code Geass: Lelouch of the Re;surrection

So I finally saw the Code Geass movie last night and OH MAN DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS.

First of all I think I should start this out by saying this series came into my life at a very weird time I’d say. I first watched the show when I was in 7th grade (13 years old) and I don’t know why but it stuck with me. As soon as the last episode finished I immediately hit start on episode 1 (ah the good old days when Bandai had all the episodes on Youtube) to see what I was missing my first viewing. Since then I have easily watched the series over 10 times over both in English and Japanese. The show (and the fanfiction let’s be real here) got me through a lot of tough times. In my freshmen year of high school, I really took a turn for the worst and seriously thought I would die before I turned 15. That was when I met @projectcluclu and she (along with the show) became a really key part of my life. Her fics really made me fall in love with the pairing Lelouch and CC even more than I already had been with before. The pairing itself became a real comfort for me and just. TLDR: Code Geass is really important to me.

Writing now as a junior in college (20 years old), I could still say this series has my heart. Have I grown older now and seen many other things (mostly not anime related things)? Yes. Do I notice the endless plotholes in the story and how certain characters I once hated are actually okay and the characters I thought were flawless could actually be rather despicable? Yes again. But this story as a whole still makes my heart go BOOM. 

NOW TO THE MOVIE!

So when I first heard they were making a movie I rolled my eyes. I get it was an anniversary and the show had had many other specials before such as Lelouch’s Birthday, Nunnally in Wonderland, etc. However, this one was going to make or break this show. The creators seemed to know this and pulled something I laugh so hard at but at the same time THEY KNOW THEY GET TO MAKE THE CAKE AND EAT IT TOO. After realizing that “oh shit. We really did have the perfect ending. Legit half the viewers are going to be upset no matter what we do” they decided. “YOU ALL CAN THINK WHATEVER YOU WANT. This is an alternate reality.” Now, to me this was a cop out for sure. They knew no matter what they did, someone would be upset. Even I joked around with my sister and said if Lelouch got with anyone else but CC in the movie I would burn all my Code Geass merch. Still, the war still goes on from the original show whether he is dead or not. The creators wanted the ending to be ambiguous, but couldn’t even handle the inner-fandom war when the ending first happened over 10 years ago that they were like HE IS DEAD STOP FIGHTING. 

All that being said, I obviously knew I had to see this movie. I’ll admit the spoilers that it was a CluClu ending did give me a slight push to hit buy tickets on my online order, but I knew it was important to my sister and I. We drove an hour away to go see it and the theater was actually pretty damn packed. We anticipated being 2 of like 7 people there but it was FILLED. It was pretty cool to here people talking about the timeline under their breath and getting excited about the movie. So the movie. My God I laughed so hard. Like tears were streaming from my face. First, I saw it in English. I love my Johnny Young Lelouch so much and Kate Higgins as CC is great. Everyone else had the same voices as well but. It literally appeared everyone but CC forgot how to say Suzaku’s name and called him “Sooz-a-koo.” Legit sounded like fucking Shinjuki. The first time LELOUCH said it I was like who he is talking ab- OMFG ARE YOU KIDDING ME. My sister and I were in tears and I was shaking so bad. The new characters got me confused. Where the fuck was this big ass nation in the show? (Obviously non-existent as this is an alternate universe”) But I was like what is geass did anyone at the studio actually figure it out? In the show they got nowhere close to explaining it, but we got a very good understanding on what it does, it’s limitations, who had it and why, etc. This movie was like oh you have geass?! CHECK MINE OUT! The princess (at least I think she was a princess) was weird? That scene with her and her brother in the bath after she saw her prophecy was fucked. I laughed so hard again as everyone around me was saying WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? With these new characters, why is Cornelia now the head of them? 

My brain did not take it seriously and just laughed at how crack-fic this movie was. They showed almost every character and it was beautiful and almost bought me to actually cry no matter how weirdly they were placed and who they were placed with. Like why was Schneizel with Rakshata?? In a daycare place?? Why?? Ohgi and Viletta’s wedding though. My heart exploded Lloyd and Rakshata dancing? I approve. THE BABY? I approve. 

The main characters. I know it has been ten years and it could be seen, and there were definitely moments where they were, out of character. One thing I saw a lot of before I saw it was that CC was out of character because she cared so much for Lelouch but to me? I think she was pretty in character. It had been a long time for her and Lelouch. As soon as Lelouch died, Shirley bought his body to CC and she had to take care of him as they looked for his lost consciousness. I imagine she was a bitch in the beginning to him but quickly realized she did this. 

She did this.

She is the reason Lelouch is alive at all.

This is why I believe she was in character. It shows how she is not a stagnant character from the beginning of the story. When first knowing about her in episode five of the series, it was clear she was a stone cold bitch who made her own rules for her life (which makes her CC my favorite character so I’m not saying this as a bad thing). As the show moved forward, we saw her at her most vulnerable and how as a child she was desperate for someone to love her. After her own geass story and her immortality, she saw quickly it must have not been in the cards for her and how she was “utterly alone.” Even as she and Lelouch started to become closer to each other, she was rather distant. I don’t think she really let it show how important he had become to her until her backstory episode 15 of R2 when she would not let him take her immortality. Even when she was dying, mind you the only reason she went after Lelouch in the first place, she was crying at the thought of leaving. In the penultimate episode of the series, she and Lelouch had a very touching scene that Kallen had to ruin, but she voiced her care for him. Therefore, in the movie when it shows her caring so much for him, I do not find it out of character for her. It was already shown in the show and sound episodes that she was not sure what she thought her feelings for Lelouch were and she was confused and frightened by them. She was afraid she ruined his life by giving him the power in the first place, and she was selfish enough to do it again by reviving him knowing full well he intended to die for all the things he did in the rebellion. 

I teared up at the trailer watching CC cry trying to find Lelouch in C’s world. You could tell that man is her new “meaning for living” so to say and she realized how close she was to losing him again. I teared up when they were in the knightmare and Lelouch was about to issue a surrender. She pulled her gun on him similar to episode 7 of the show and told him this was not the Lelouch she knew and bought back. That moment of shaky tears and words made Lelouch into his self again. They are the missing pieces the other has always lacked. They are better off together and they know it. Another reason why the scene at the end hit so strong when he told her he would follow LL and abandon the name Lelouch. He was stating how he was ready to let go of his past and begin a new life with her. Her face welling up and crying. Those scenes of them together were my favorite parts of the movie for the obvious ship reason but also for the fact that I felt more connections to the original story and the characters seemed to be staying true to their old selves. 

Lelouch. He was pretty much in character. I do believe leaving Nunnally to make her own choices and let her grow up is something he would do. After all the lessons CC told him about keeping people you love at a distance. He was a little more flirty than usual but again? The scenes that mattered the most, he was Lelouch. 

Suzaku. Excuse me Soozakoo was a pretty much his character from R2. Kind of a douchebag with a heart of gold. His scenes with Lelouch were very very in character and really touching.

Kallen was a little out of character. The one scene that touched my heart is when she cried (which by the way was fucking hilarious because the English cry was so bad) when Lelouch kept staring at her with his dead eyes. That was a really beautiful scene and I could admit that even though I despise the two of them together.

Everyone else was pretty much thrown in with no explanation. Ohgi apologizing to Lelouch made 0, no pun intended, sense. Cornelia leading this new nation? This new nation of a whole? How did Lelouch know where everything was and how to work this foreign computer network and equipment? Why was mostly everyone else not phased by the fact that Lelouch was alive? So many things were not explained in this movie.

THE ANIMATION. The characters were beautiful as ever but damn. Sometimes they left blobs and mouths moving and it was so funny. The close up shot of the camels had me laughing in my seat.

THE ENDING. And I mean the post-credit ending. I feel like the creators found this famous fanart of Lelouch and CC:

And were like LET’S GO WITH THAT! They were pretty much dressed like this and looked like they were having a wedding type thing? But they gave a weird vampire feel which was hm. Okay? 

Overall, this movie was what it was. An anniversary movie to give the fans and give some more spotlight on Lelouch and CC’s relationship. In the moments it had its key characters, it was beautiful. Hell, it was all beautiful. However, it really did feel I was watching a crack-fic fanfiction in HD. That being said, I would not change anything about this movie. My heart is so full and I was smiling the entire time. So glad I got to go see it! 

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 6 paragraph xviii

Xandra was out cold by the time they all left—asleep so deeply that Boris got a pocket mirror from her purse (which we had rifled, for pills and cash) and held it under her nose to see if she was breathing. There was two hundred and twenty-nine dollars in her wallet, which I didn’t feel all that bad about taking since she still had her credit cards and an uncashed check for two thousand and twenty-five. “I knew Xandra wasn’t her real name,” I said, tossing him her driver’s license: orange-tinged face, different fluffed-up hair, name Sandra Jaye Terrell, no restrictions. “Wonder what these keys go to?” Boris—like an old-fashioned movie doctor, fingers on her pulse, sitting by her on the side of the bed—held the mirror up to the light. “Da, da,” he muttered, then something else I didn’t understand. “Eh?” “She’s out.” With one finger, he prodded her shoulder, and then leaned over and peered into the nightstand drawer where I was rapidly sorting through a bewilderment of junk: change, chips, lip gloss, coasters, false eyelashes, nail polish remover, tattered paperbacks (Your Erroneous Zones), perfume samples, old cassette tapes, ten years’ expired insurance cards, and a bunch of giveaway matchbooks from a Reno legal office that said REPRESENTING DWI AND ALL DRUG OFFENSES. “Hey, let me have those,” said Boris, reaching over and pocketing a strip of condoms. “What’s this?” He picked up something that at first glance looked like a Coke can—but, when he shook it, it rattled. He put his ear to it. “Ha!” he said, tossing it to me. “Good job.” I screwed off the top—it was obviously fake—and dumped the contents out on the top of the nightstand. “Wow,” I said, after a few moments. Clearly this was where Xandra kept her tip money—partly cash, partly chips. There was a lot of other stuff, too— so much I had a hard time taking it all in—but my eyes had gone straight to the diamond-and-emerald earrings that my mother had found missing, right before my father took off. “Wow,” I said again, picking one of them up between thumb and forefinger. My mother had worn these earrings for almost every cocktail party or dress-up occasion—the blue-green transparency of the stones, their wicked three a.m. gleam, were as much a part of her as the color of her eyes or the spicy dark smell of her hair. Boris was cackling. Amidst the cash he’d immediately spotted, and snatched up, a film canister, which he opened with trembling hands. He dipped the end of his little finger in, tasted it. “Bingo,” he said, running the finger along his gums. “Kotku’s going to be pissed she didn’t come over now.” I held out the earrings to him on my open hands. “Yah, nice,” he said, hardly looking at them. He was tapping out a pile of powder on the nightstand. “You’ll get a couple of thousand dollars for those.” “These were my mother’s.” My dad had sold most of her jewelry back in New York, including her wedding ring. But now—I saw—Xandra had skimmed some of it for herself, and it made me weirdly sad to see what she’d chosen—not the pearls or the ruby brooch, but inexpensive things from my mother’s teenage days, including her junior-high charm bracelet, ajingle with horseshoes and ballet slippers and four leaf clovers.

Boris straightened up, pinched his nostrils, handed me the rolled-up bill. “You want some?” “No.” “Come on. It’ll make you feel better.” “No, thanks.” “There must be four or five eight balls here. Maybe more! We can keep one and sell the others.” “You did that stuff before?” I said doubtfully, eyeing Xandra’s prone body. Even though she was clearly down for the count, I didn’t like having these conversations over her back. “Yah. Kotku likes it. Expensive, though.” He seemed to blank out for a minute, then blinked his eyes rapidly. “Wow. Come on,” he said, laughing. “Here. Don’t know what you’re missing.” “I’m too fucked-up as it is,” I said, shuffling through the money. “Yah, but this will sober you up.” “Boris, I can’t goof around,” I said, pocketing the earrings and the charm bracelet. “If we’re going, we need to leave now. Before people start showing up.” “What people?” said Boris skeptically, running his finger back and forth under his nose. “Believe me, it happens fast. Child services coming in, and like that.” I’d counted the cash—thirteen hundred and twenty-one dollars, plus change; there was much more in chips, close to five thousand dollars’ worth, but might as well leave her those. “Half for you and half for me,” I said, as I began to count the cash into two even piles. “There’s enough here for two tickets. Probably we’re too late to catch the last flight but we should go ahead and take a car to the airport.” “Now? Tonight?” I stopped counting and looked at him. “I don’t have anyone out here. Nobody. Nada. They’ll stick me in a home so fast I won’t know what hit me.” Boris nodded at Xandra’s body—which was very unnerving, as in her face-down mattress splay she looked way too much like a dead person. “What about her?” “What the fuck?” I said after a brief pause. “What should we do? Wait around until she wakes up and finds out we ripped her off?” “Dunno,” said Boris, eyeing her doubtfully. “I just feel bad for her.” “Well, don’t. She doesn’t want me. She’ll call them herself as soon as she realizes she’s stuck with me.” “Them? I don’t understand who is this them.” “Boris, I’m a minor.” I could feel my panic rising in an all-too-familiar way—maybe the situation wasn’t literally life or death but it sure felt like it, house filling with smoke, exits closing off. “I don’t know how it works in your country but I don’t have any family, no friends out here—” “Me! You have me!” “What are you going to do? Adopt me?” I stood up. “Look, if you’re coming, we need to hurry. Do you have your passport? You’ll need it for the plane.” Boris put his hands up in his Russianate enough already gesture. “Wait! This is happening way too fast.” I stopped, halfway out the door. “What the fuck is your problem, Boris?” “My problem?” “You wanted to run away! It was you who asked me to go with you! Last night.” “Where are you going? New York?” “Where else?” “I want to go someplace warm,” he said instantly. “California.” “That’s crazy. Who do we know—” “California!” he crowed. “Well—” Though I knew almost nothing about California, it was safe to assume that (apart from the bar of “California Über Alles” he was humming) Boris knew even less. “Where in California? What town?” “Who cares?” “It’s a big state.” “Fantastic! It’ll be fun. We’ll stay high all the time—read books—build camp fires. Sleep on the beach.” I looked at him for a long unbearable moment. His face was on fire and his mouth was stained blackish from the red wine. “All right,” I said—knowing full well I was stepping off the edge and into the major mistake of my life, petty theft, the change cup, sidewalk nods and homelessness, the fuck-up from which I would never recover. He was gleeful. “The beach, then? Yes?”

This was how you went wrong: this fast. “Wherever you want,” I said, pushing the hair out of my eyes. I was dead exhausted. “But we need to go now. Please.” “What, this minute?” “Yes. Do you need to go home and get anything?” “Tonight?” “I’m not kidding, Boris.” Arguing with him was making the panic rise again. “I can’t just sit around and wait—” The painting was a problem, I wasn’t sure how that was going to work, but once I got Boris out of the house I could figure something out. “Please, come on.” “Is State Care that bad in America?” said Boris doubtfully. “You make it seem like the cops.” “Are you coming with me? Yes or no?” “I need some time. I mean,” he said, following after me, “we can’t leave now! Really—I swear. Wait a little while. Give me a day! One day!” “Why?” He seemed nonplussed. “Well, I mean, because—” “Because—?” “Because—because I have to see Kotku! And—all kinds of things! Honest, you can’t leave tonight,” he repeated, when I said nothing. “Trust me. You’ll be sorry, I mean it. Come to my house! Wait till the morning to go!” “I can’t wait,” I said curtly, taking my half of the cash and heading back to my room. “Potter—” he followed after me. “Yes?” “There is something important I have to tell you.” “Boris,” I said, turning, “what the mother fuck. What is it?” I said, as we stood and stared at each other. “If you have something to say, go on and say it.” “Am afraid it will make you mad.” “What is it? What have you done?” Boris was silent, gnawing the side of his thumb. “Well, what?” He looked away. “You need to stay,” he said vaguely. “You’re making a mistake.” “Forget it,” I snapped, turning away again. “If you don’t want to come with me, don’t come, okay? But I can’t stand around here all night.” Boris—I thought—might ask what was in the pillowcase, particularly since it was so fat and weirdly shaped after my over-enthusiastic wrapping job. But when I un-taped it from the back of the headboard and put it in my overnight bag (along with my iPod, notebook, charger, Wind, Sand and Stars, some pictures of my mom, my toothbrush, and a change of clothes) he only scowled and said nothing. When I retrieved, from the back of my closet, my school blazer (too small for me, though it had been too big when my mother bought it) he nodded and said: “Good idea, that.” “What?” “Makes you look less homeless.” “It’s November,” I said. I’d only brought one warm sweater from New York; I put it in the bag and zipped it up. “It’s going to be cold.”

Boris leaned insolently against the wall. “What will you do, then? Live on the street, railway station, where?” “I’ll call my friend I stayed with before.” “If they wanted you, those people, they’d have adopted you already.” “They couldn’t! How could they?” Boris folded his arms. “They didn’t want you, that family. You told me so yourself—lots of times. Also, you never hear from them.” “That’s not true,” I said, after a brief, confused pause. Only a few months before, Andy had sent me a long-ish (for him) email telling me about some stuff going on at school, a scandal with the tennis coach feeling up girls in our class, though that life was so far away that it was like reading about people I didn’t know “Too many children?” said Boris, a bit smugly as it seemed. “Not enough room? Remember that bit? You said the mother and father were glad to see you go.” “Fuck off.” I was already getting a huge headache. What would I do if Social Services showed up and put me in the back of a car? Who—in Nevada —could I call? Mrs. Spear? The Playa? The fat model-store clerk who sold us model glue without the models? Boris followed me downstairs, where we were stopped in the middle of the living room by a tortured-looking Popper—who ran directly into our path, then sat and stared at us like he knew exactly what was going on. “Oh, fuck,” I said, putting down my bag. There was a silence. “Boris,” I said, “can’t you—” “No.” “Can’t Kotku—” “No.” “Well, fuck it,” I said, picking him up and tucking him under my arm. “I’m not leaving him here for her to lock up and starve.” “And where are you going?” said Boris, as I started for the front door. “Eh?” “Walking? To the airport?” “Wait,” I said, putting Popchik down. All at once I felt sick and like I might vomit red wine all over the carpet. “Will they take a dog on the plane?” “No,” said Boris ruthlessly, spitting out a chewed thumbnail. He was being an asshole; I wanted to punch him. “Okay then,” I said. “Maybe somebody at the airport will want him. Or, fuck it, I’ll take the train.” He was about to say something sarcastic, lips pursed in a way I knew well, but then—quite suddenly—his expression faltered; and I turned to see Xandra, wild-eyed, mascara-smeared, swaying on the landing at the top of the stairs.

We looked at her, frozen. After what seemed like a centuries-long pause, she opened her mouth, closed it again, caught the railing to balance herself, and then said, in a rusty voice: “Did Larry leave his keys in the bank vault?” We gazed horrified for several more moments before we realized she was waiting for a reply. Her hair was like a haystack; she appeared completely disoriented and so unsteady it seemed she might topple down the steps. “Er, yes,” said Boris loudly. “I mean no.” And then, when she still stood there: “It’s all right. Go back to bed.” She mumbled something and—uncertain on her feet—staggered off. The two of us stood motionless for some moments. Then—quietly, the back of my neck prickling—I got my bag and slipped out the front door (my last sight of that house, and her, though I didn’t even take a last look round) and Boris and Popchik came out after me. Together, all three of us walked rapidly away from the house and down to the end of the street, Popchik’s toenails clicking on the pavement. “All right,” said Boris, in the humorous undertone he used when we had a close call at the supermarket. “Okay. Maybe not quite so much out-cold as I thought.” I was in a cold sweat, and the night air—though chilly—felt good. Off in the west, silent Frankenstein flashes of lightning twisted in the darkness. “Well, at least she’s not dead, eh?” He chuckled. “I was worried about her. Christ.” “Let me use your phone,” I said, elbowing on my jacket. “I need to call a car.” He fished in his pocket, and handed it to me. It was a disposable phone, the one he’d bought to keep tabs on Kotku. “No, keep it,” he said, holding his hands up when I tried to give it back to him after I’d made my call: Lucky Cab, 777-7777, the number plastered on every shifty-looking bus-stop bench in Vegas. Then he dug out the wad of money—his half of the take from Xandra—and tried to press it on me. “Forget it,” I said, glancing back anxiously at the house. I was afraid she might wake up again and come out in the street looking for us. “It’s yours.” “No! You might need it!” “I don’t want it,” I said, sticking my hands in my pockets to keep him from foisting it on me. “Anyway, you might need it yourself.” “Come on, Potter! I wish you wouldn’t go this moment.” He gestured down the street, at the rows of empty houses. “If you won’t come to my house —kip over there for a day or two! That brick house has furniture in it, even. I’ll bring you food if you want.” “Or, hey, I can call Domino’s,” I said, sticking the phone in my jacket pocket. “Since they deliver out here now and everything.” He winced. “Don’t be angry.” “I’m not.” And, in truth, I wasn’t—only so disoriented I felt I might wake up and find I’d been sleeping with a book over my face. Boris, I realized, was looking up at the sky and humming to himself, a line from one of my mother’s Velvet Underground songs: But if you close the door… the night could last forever… “What about you?” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Eh?” he said, looking at me with a smile. “What’s up? Will I see you again?” “Maybe,” he said, in the same cheerful tone I imagined him using with Bami and Judy the barkeep’s wife in Karmeywallag and everyone else in his life he’d ever said goodbye to. “Who knows?” “Will you meet me in a day or two?” “Well—” “Join me later. Take a plane—you have the money. I’ll call you and tell you where I am. Don’t say no.” “Okay then,” said Boris, in the same cheerful voice. “I won’t say no.” But clearly, from his tone, he was saying no. I closed my eyes. “Oh God.” I was so tired I was reeling; I had to fight the urge to lie down on the ground, a physical undertow pulling me to the curb. When I opened my eyes, I saw Boris looking at me with concern. “Look at you,” he said. “Falling over, almost.” He reached in his pocket. “No, no, no,” I said, stepping back, when I saw what he had in his hand. “No way. Forget it.” “It’ll make you feel better!” “That’s what you said about the other stuff.” I wasn’t up for any more seaweed or singing stars. “Really, I don’t want any.”

“But this is different. Completely different. It will sober you up. Clear your head—promise.” “Right.” A drug that sobered you up and cleared your head didn’t sound like Boris’s style at all, although he did seem a good bit more with-it than me. “Look at me,” he said reasonably. “Yes.” He knew he had me. “Am I raving? Frothing at mouth? No—only being helpful! Here,” he said, tapping some out on the back of his hand, “come on. Let me feed it to you.” I half expected it was a trick—that I would pass out on the spot and wake up who knew where, maybe in one of the empty houses across the street. But I was too tired to care, and maybe that would have been okay anyway. I leaned forward and allowed him to press one nostril closed with a fingertip. “There!” he said encouragingly. “Like this. Now, sniff.” Almost instantly, I did feel better. It was like a miracle. “Wow,” I said, pinching my nose against the sharp, pleasant sting. “Didn’t I tell you?” He was already tapping out some more. “Here, other nose. Don’t breathe out. Okay, now.” Everything seemed brighter and clearer, including Boris himself. “What did I tell you?” He was taking more for himself now. “Aren’t you sorry you don’t listen?” “You’re going to sell this stuff, god,” I said, looking up at the sky. “Why?” “It’s worth a lot, actually. Few thousand of dollars.” “That little bit?” “Not that little! This is a lot of grams—twenty, maybe more. Could make a fortune if I divide up small and sell to girls like K. T. Bearman.” “You know K. T. Bearman?” Katie Bearman, who was a year ahead of us, had her own car—a black convertible—and was so far removed from our social scale she might as well have been a movie star. “Sure. Skye, KT, Jessica, all those girls. Anyway—” he offered me the vial again—“I can buy Kotku that keyboard she wants now. No more money worries.” We went back and forth a few times until I began to feel much more optimistic about the future and things in general. And as we stood rubbing our noses and jabbering in the street, Popper looking up at us curiously, the wonderfulness of New York seemed right on the tip of my tongue, an evanescence possible to convey. “I mean, it’s great,” I said. The words were spiraling and tumbling out of me. “Really, you have to come. We can go to Brighton Beach—that’s where all the Russians hang out. Well, I’ve never been there. But the train goes there—it’s the last stop on the line. There’s a big Russian community, restaurants with smoked fish and sturgeon roe. My mother and I always talked about going out there to eat one day, this jeweler she worked with told her the good places to go, but we never did. It’s supposed to be great. Also, I mean—I have money for school—you can go to my school. No—you totally can. I have a scholarship. Well, I did. But the guy said as long as the money in my fund was used for education—it could be anybody’s education. Not just mine. There’s more than enough for both of us. Though, I mean, public school, the public schools are good in New York, I know people there, public school’s fine with me.” I was still babbling when Boris said: “Potter.” Before I could answer him he put both hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. And while I stood blinking—it was over almost before I knew what had happened—he picked up Popper under the forelegs and kissed him too, in midair, smack on the tip of his nose. Then he handed him to me. “Your car’s over there,” he said, giving him one last ruffle on the head. And—sure enough—when I turned, a town car was creeping up the other side of the street, surveying the addresses. We stood looking at each other—me breathing hard, completely stunned. “Good luck,” said Boris. “I won’t forget you.” Then he patted Popper on the head. “Bye, Popchyk. Look after him, will you?” he said to me.

Later—in the cab, and afterward—I would replay that moment, and marvel that I’d waved and walked away quite so casually. Why hadn’t I grabbed his arm and begged him one last time to get in the car, come on, fuck it Boris, just like skipping school, we’ll be eating breakfast over cornfields when the sun comes up? I knew him well enough to know that if you asked him the right way, at the right moment, he would do almost anything; and in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car laughing if I’d asked one last time. But I didn’t. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn’t—I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while. More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I’d stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tongue, the thing I’d never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street—which was, of course, I love you.

[showmethesneer]

The Beatles asks

I did this for my all-time faves Arctic Monkeys a while ago but given my recent attack of Beatlemania, i decided to try it out on the original incarnation

General

1. What was the first Beatles song you heard?

Unlike Arctic Monkeys, The Beatles were already deeply ingrained in the culture before I was born so I couldn’t pinpoint this. I think It might have been “She Loves You” 

2. What was the first Beatles album you bought?

I have never purchased a Beatles album but my sister did own that 1 compilation album, which i listened to a lot in high school

3. What was the last Beatles song you listened to?

“The Night Before”

4. Have you ever seen The Beatles live?

Seeing as I was born after 1980, this would be impossible.

5. Have you ever met any of the members?

not even close

6. What do you think their next album will sound like? Which of their covers is your favourite?

Their “Twist and Shout” is iconic. I also really enjoy “Besame Mucho” or some reason and their “You Really Got A Hold On Me” jam in Let It Be. but i’m a George girl, so “Roll Over Beethoven” might be my favourite. 

Songs and Albums 7. Favourite Beatles song?

it’s been “Come Together” since i was in high school and even though i’ve recently made a point to listen to all of their albums, i still can’t say that i have a different answer

8. Favourite Beatles album?

Rubber Soul is the real answer BUT Abbey Road is a much better cohesive album and i can’t think of a single song on that album that i don’t like... so it’s difficult.

9. Favourite album era?

i love me some Hard Day’s Night era rowdy boys but also Magical Mystery Tour era is very good and like prime Beatles. Let It Be era is the most heartbreaking.

10. Least favourite Beatles song?

i think because i have ears, i do truly dislike “Revolution 9″ but also I guess a few from Sgt Pepper’s like “Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite” “Good Morning Good Morning” and “She’s Leaving Home”. also “Within You, Without You” and I know it’s blasphemy but I kinda don’t care for “Penny Lane” so much even though I love the character in Almost Famous

11. Least Favourite Beatles album?

Beatles For Sale is so uninspired and blah

12. Least Favourite album era?

probably Let It Be because of how depressing it is 13. Favourite song off Let It Be?

Every single Paul song on that album is pretty much the most important thing to ever happen. “The Long And Winding Road” might be the realest one.

14. Least favourite song off Let It Be?

“One After 909” probably

15. Favourite song off Abbey Road?

“Come Together” is my favourite song anyway so by default it should be that. the George songs on that album are in top form, super strong. “Octopus’ Garden” is great. I also shamelessly love “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” so there’s that. “Carry That Weight” and “The End” and “Her Majesty” are also so great like I honestly love this album and I don’t know how to choose a favourite.

16. Least favourite song off Abbey Road?

”Sun King” but only by default I’m sure.

17. Favourite song off Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band?

“A Day In The Life” is iconic. and the title song.

18. Least favourite song off Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band?

“She’s Leaving Home” I think

19. Favourite song off Rubber Soul?

can’t decide between “In My Life,” “Michelle,” “The Word,” and “Norwegian Wood”

20. Least favourite song off Rubber Soul?

maybe “Think For Yourself”

21. Favourite song off Help!?

”Help!” and “Ticket To Ride” and of course the lesbian anthem “You’re Gonna Lose That Girl”

22. Least favourite song off Help!?

“You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away” maybe 23. Favourite album/ single artwork?

i mean Let It Be has the best cover. I kind of hate the Yellow Submarine art style, but then that’s not even any of them who drew like that.

 24. Favourite b-side?

“Lady Madonna” is technically a b-side I think? and therefore that is my answer

25. Least favourite b-side?

I don’t really know what Beatles b-sides are tbh so.. I think “Hello Goodbye” is one? if so, that’s my answer

26. Favourite music video?

I really like the “Lady Madonna” video

27. Favourite lyric?

“and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make” –“The End” from Abbey Road

28. Song that always gets stuck in your head?

so many. they were earworm masters. probably “Can’t Buy Me Love”

Members 29. Favourite band member?

George Harrison always has been and probably always will be my favourite, but the more I learn about The Beatles history, the more defensive and protective I grow of Paul.

30. Favourite Paul hair style?

he looked DELICIOUS with that beard. I know it was a depression beard and that makes me sad, but he looked A+ with that long hair he continuously tussled and god knows I love a beard. very good.

31. Favourite John hair style?

i prefer it long I guess. Let It Be was the best looks era for all of them.

32. Favourite George hair style?

I really liked his Ed Sullivan era look. but also Magical Mystery Tour thru Let It Be was a devastating hottie.

33. Favourite Ringo hair style?

i love his Rory and The Hurricanes hair actually

34. Favourite Paul fashion/ outfit?

actually in some of the Get Back/Let It be sessions, he was wearing this simple black vest that John made fun of saying he looked like “a Victorian miner” but I literally loved it. I also love pretty much eveyr ugly sweater or sweater vest I’ve seen him wear

35. Favourite John fashion/ outfit?

i am a fan of the white suit on the Abbey Road cover

36. Favourite George fashion/ outfit? 

actually the denim ensemble from the Abbey Road cover is probably also my favourite look for him? I also love the school boy uniform from the “Crackerbox Palace” video

37. Favourite Ringo fashion/ outfit?

I don’t really know. the lion costume for their Midsummer Night’s Dream skit

Misc. 38. Funniest Beatles moment?

literally any?

39. Favourite live performance?

I particularly love the “Don’t Let Me Down” performance on the rooftop gig—the one where Paul does his little shimmy. I don’t know why I just feel like they were all exactly in tune with each other and having the time of their lives and everything in their careers together was leading up to this one moment and I am emotional now.

40. Favourite interview?

so many. probably the one where Ringo says he doesn’t even smoke.. as he takes a puff from his cigarette. it’s the same one where John is asked what kind of girl he likes and he says his wife, then George is asked and he says “John’s wife.” that is probably altogether my favourite interview.

41. Are you a fan of The Rolling Stones?

not nearly as religiously but “Start Me Up” is my fucking anthem and I support them

42. Do you ship McLennon?

look.. i try not to ship real people. but Yoko kinda confirmed that John was bisexual and John and Paul fucking loved each other and it is hard for me to believe that during a time with such mainstream homophobic beliefs that these men did not have repressed feelings for each other that they didn’t want to admit to. so yeah, I kinda ship it.

43. Do you have any other Beatles ships?

i really don’t ship real people

44. Do you know how to play any Beatles songs on any instruments?

i do not

45. Would you like the Beatles to collab with anyone? who? What’s your favourite Beatles cover?

either “Helter Skelter” by Dana Fuchs or “We Can Work It Out” by Stevie Wonder… or “The Long and Winding Road” by Ray Charles or “Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight” by Jennifer Hudson… or “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” by Girl In A Coma 46. What other bands do you listen to?

Arctic Monkeys, The Last Shadow Puppets, The Clash, Fleetwood Mac, Led Zeppelin, Green Day, Girl in a Coma, The Seshen, Coheed and Cambria, Queen, Imagine Dragons, No Doubt, Dragonette

47. Favourite non-Beatles band?

Arctic Monkeys

48. Favourite non-Beatles band member?

Billie Joe Armstrong

49. Favourite non-Beatles song?

TAINTED LOVE BY SOFT CELL

 50. Favourite post-Beatles song?

“Jet” by Wings or “Got My Mind Set On You” or “Wah Wah” by George Harrison

[disturb-mindlessness]

my bones are full of soul look at me now ✨

trigger warning this got so much more personal and longer than intended;

✨ this is dedicated to the ones who sent lovely little texts to check on me from time to time, to the ones who were thinking of me sometimes and maybe even missed me a little bit, for the ones whose “i wish you were here” and “i wish you would have experienced this with me” texts have let me travel back in time for 6 hours (Western Australia time difference) or even 8 hours (Queensland time difference) to live in those moments with them.

Ok, imagine this scenario: I was living my ordinary life, working as a graphic designer for a small company, spent a lot of time learning and panicking over my matriculation (i googled that word), being caught in some unhealthy habits and always having this dream of feeling and experiencing more of what this life has to offer. I had the plan of moving to Berlin with my wonderful best friend after I passed my final schooling and to then to start my studies in probably psychology or maybe journalism and english and german but maybe some business studies and at best everything at once. That sentence was a bad try to make obvious how confused I was and that I had no idea, at all, what i wanted to do with this life, that suddenly made me feel like hiking and not knowing which way to face first. But thank god, or the universe or SCIENCE or whatever; life is what happens when you make plans. I didn’t pass my matriculation . Since i’ve been horrible in maths because I hardly ever paid attention to teachers or took time to actually practice, I decided to start at the bottom and so I bought a book, that basically explains the best ways for our brain to understand maths. And by what I learned, by far, the most important thing is to not invest hours to solve a problem after being stuck and desperately trying to figure it out , but to step back and return to your problem once your brain has had time to focus on something else and let the question you’re seeking envolve in the back of your mind. Rather than on focusing what exactly it was you did wrong, your brain will come up with a completely different way of how to solve this problem. Amazing how that works, isn’t it? …if only that could work for everthing…

So guess what, thats what I decided to do; step back and trust, that my problem, in this case my final schooling degree, will be waiting for me when I was ready. With a whole new outlook and hopefully a healthier way to cope with learning.

And suddenly this failure, that I felt so insecure about and that shook up my whole existense in such a face punching real way, was the thing that suddenly allowed me to dream big. To let my mind wander, to take my time off, to go exploring and to go wild and go funning and running, while my mind, in the background, would do some grounding and growing up work for me; for my second try.

So whats the best way to get to know yourself? Being alone. And I read once that foreign languages have this thing to let you live a completely different side of you. (Thats a thing that I also experienced when I lived in Italy for a year and speaking Italian let me be someone else, but still me at the same time, just different ways of thinking. And i guess thats what happens sometimes when you have limited and basic vocabulary. You can’t be as confusing and over the top and grasping to explain yourself without words you don’t know. I guess slowing down and having to be simple and not having to explain myself in another language was exactly the thing I needed back then. I strongly believe that thats good for everyone once in a while) I always had this thing with languages, they are this one thing I’m good at. speaking and words and reading and understanding and also listening; just my thing. And as much as I love german with all its confusing ways to say the same thing in a hundred different ways and those little nouances with whose saying the same thing can have a hundred different meanings, I always loved how english lets you strive for a plain and unconfusing and eternal clear way to make your point. (write hard and clear about what hurts #bukowski) So probably obvious by now, my first decision was to learn english. And since, thanks to education, everyone (at least everyone reading this haha) has learned english to some point, by learning english I mean live(!) english and breathe english and make it part of my being. To make myself able to be understood in a language that isn’t the one that I’ve always (or maybe not always) been understood in.

My next decision to make was to decide in what destination I wanted to reach those goals of making this language a part of myself. In my head I listed down a few places where english is the native language; America (noo i’m not 21 and also i don’t wanna get fat and everyone i know who has been there came back with more than just heavier suitcases), england (nooo thats too close and even tho i love the accent its not the accent i would choose to imprint on my english), Australia. And to be honest, once those thoughts stared rolling and envolving, i made this decision in a heartbeat. Everything in me knew that Australia was the place to go, which is actually funny because I never _really_ thought about Australia. I didn’t know a lot about this big wild country except a few facts that I learned in 2. grade. I knew there was the ayers rock and I knew a bit about aborigines and their traditions and culture and of course I knew there where kangaroos and koalas and from what you hear lots of big spiders (i got warned about a million times about those apparently so big and scary animals that would be found everywhere in australia. and to this day i saw like 5 spiders in 5 months, the biggest one of those probably the size of my smallest fingernail. and btw spiders after 12 mean good luck (thanks kim).) I guess I didn’t even know the capital city of Australia (Sydney btw) but since I am srsly the worst with geographical and orientation stuff, that probably doesn’t mean a lot, I wasn’t more ignorant towards Australias Geographics than towards any other part of the world.

The seed was planted and from there things started to roll. First my kangaroo key chain holder got loose and fell off my keys and I took that as a little sign that i had to be on the right path. i saw australian stuff everywhere, or the word alone australia, or australian music coming up all the time and as the universes help seeking little bugger I am I took it all for little signs, that made my heart smile. And as I got more secure with the idea of travelling to Australia, i slowly started telling people about my to this point wanky plans. First it was just “something that i’d maybe like to do” until i told my coworker, who stepped the last tiny stone loose that convinced me that this was the right thing to do. he gave me the contact details of a family who was living in perth, but was residensing in a beautiful big ass villa during the holidays in the town I lived in. I took all my courage, no space left for these crippling thoughts that were afraid of such a big change and called. And i remember that this phone call lasted for exact 38 seconds. I got invited over for coffee and to meet the kids. Thats probably the part of the story where its time to explain that i decided to become an aupair (which is basically a full time nanny living with the family and watching over the kids). everyone who knows me well is and was probably surprised by that choice. kids are not exactly my favorite thing in the world… don’t get me wrong, there are some outrageous special little ones that are sometimes so much more than most adults ever could be and I always wanted to count myself to those grow(ing)n ups who always made time to understand kids and explain some of the fantastic truths that I came across during my lifetime. I just never liked those kids whose parents treat them like retarded monkeys and feel the need to sugarcoat and cencore every little thing. Unfortunately I soon noticed that those kids, brought up by this family that I was almost going to live with, were of the second kind. I’m sure everyone of you experienced at some point in their lives how mean kids can be. I also hope that you met some of those pure soft little souls that I’m gonna tell you about later on. And those kids and me were just a thing that just wouldn’t fit together, but when I figured that out, it was too late. I had already booked my flights. (For the ones that said stuff like “her rich parents paid for all of that”, even though I hope no one of you is reading that, if you do: My dad paid €300 for my flight ticket as my birthday and christmas present for the past couple years :D) First, after figuring out that me living with this family is something that won’t happen, i was utterly afraid. But then I thought “Fuck it!” I always wanted an adventure, so whats more adventures than a one way ticket, no plans, €1000, $500, a (very) heavy backpack(/suitcase), some books, a tummy full of butterflies, and absolutely NO idea what the next months will bring? After I at least tried to get my visa and arranged all those annoying things for my take off, I was ready to go. My loved ones made the best surprise party one can imagine!!!! Some liters of tears, so many hugs, some little presents and a million times saying goodbye later I was on my way to the airport and I was so excited!! I can’t remember a moment I felt as alive ( …maybe when I arrived at my dream destination) I can remember that I already made connections with people on the plane. I wasn’t even afraid anymore. When I arrived at the hostel things just kept rolling, I met so many lovely and interesting personalities that I wish to keep knowing for the rest of my life. On my third day in Perth I met a lovely Woman with 2 unbelievable beautiful kids who would later become my host mum. Living with this amazing little family let me see so much of australias best sides and of what being family means. Kerry grew within the first week to one of my closest friends, we just clicked so naturally and it felt as if I have known her forever. We worked out together, we went out together, we cooked together (mostly u lol thanks ❣️), we lived together and shared everything from the car and toothpaste (and some other things :D) to our workplace. Within my first week I met Kim. Oh my god, I wish everyone of you knew Kim. She’s just one of those BOOOM people. Who are just there and the whole room sees them. Kims mum owns a hotel in WA and when I met her, they were currently looking for a graphic designer!!! Seriously what are the odds. Best part about all of that is that the Visa (that I didn’t even have) declared me as a tourist and not being able to work in Oz. Guess what :D We had 3 amazing months, the happiest time of my life. I wish I could tell you about every single beautiful person that I met on this path, but this got already far too long…

So i had a full time job as graphic designer, I was a nanny, I was a friend. In between that I went exploring, on some tinder dates, cuddled all the puppies I could find, made friends with everyone, loved my life and the world, wrote into my diary, tried to exercise and do yoga, made home calls, looked at the stars and went partying and to concerts. I had the most amazing time. Everything was new and exciting and I loved every second of my journey. After 3 months I got a mail that my visa got refused. While I was in the country. The guy from the immigration center was so confused when he tried to explain to himself and me how that could be even possible. His exact words were “Someone or something wanted you to be here. I’ve never heard something like this in my life” So for some reason I had a visa, just not the one I applied for. But this that I had visa only let me stay in australia if I left the country for a couple of days every 3 months. instead of panicking I thought “BALI here I come!” bali wasn’t exactly my thing and I probably ate a dog but except that, traveling by myself again awakened the urge to try something (or somewhere) else. A month later I moved to Brisbane with my Slim Kim. Saying goodbye was horrible, especially because you never know if you ever see this place and all its people again… I kept reminding myself “to make an end is to make a new beginning”. Brisbane with Kim was just WHOOO! Parties, the best views, amazing food, favorite movies marathons, a million deep and meaningfuls, working on graphic stuff (i’ll never do a menu again in my life) playing on playgrounds, music loops, more tinder dates, dog walks ❣️But also thinking lots about going home. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t Heimweh (i think that german word fits really well here) it was more getting excited to get back into my life and finishing all those things, that I’ve started. But with a fresh outlook and a new philosophy. When I went to Australia I only put a few things on my list: * doing yoga in every city I visit * speaking english fluently * writing into my diary * learning how to let go * being back in june

I’m gonna be the maid of honor for my best friend in June, so that was the time i had to be back. I wanted to help plan some things while being away but as you can imagine, that’s a bit hard being on the other side of the world and when the future bride called me and said she needed me, I knew it was time to come home. My brain has had enough time to get a different point of view by then so I was ready to go! Saying goodbye again was so hard, but i was SO excited to see my loved ones again! Especially my puppy, no one can imagine how much I missed this little thing. In the end there’s still so much to say but most importantly: i traveled the world. i saw western australia, queensland, bali, taipei and dubai. i met hundreds of sparkling and wonderful people, i can express myself in another language, i found myself and i’m not afraid anymore. And I’d always do it again