#maybe ill publish a more polished version of these thoughts later. if i can get something better out ofnit

[sparring-spirals]

so, im still largely unable to write imogen meta about the last episode. mostly because i start thinking about Imogen, slightly ticked off about her role, Imogen with a nightmare of a headache trying desperately to keep her shit together in a sea of minds, Imogen freaking the fuck out as plans go sideways and she cant be the one to just yank it back on track, Imogen, overwhelmed and panicked and maybe a little angry, still pulling an ace performance when it's needed-

Imogen, still holding it together with sheer willpower and an edge of desperation, still laser focused on the goal, still ready to lie and charm on a moments notice-

and knowing that, for once, that wouldn't be enough.

That she can't grab the entire operation with both hands and wrangle it under control- can't overwhelm it with her mind or her powers, can't deliver a performance or a lie so stunning that it sweeps away their issue and leaves them home free.

Like once I start thinking I keep thinking about how that whole situation probably was (and continues to be) a Very Unpleasant Time for Imogen, but she can power through that. I think she could, and do it very, very effectively. So maybe the worst part is that she can, that she has- and she'd still need to bank on everyone else at the end of it.

I don't think she's unfamiliar with having a bad time or a plan gone sideways, but I doubt she's enjoying not having the power to just fix it.

[off-in-the-moors]

Joseph Kavinsky analysis, part 2

aka no voice and no dream pack

Warnings: spoilers for the whole Raven Cycle, mentions of: drug-use, abuse, death, s*cid, xenophobia

Part 1 // Part 2

Before starting, I wanted to thank for likes and support, not only on part 1 but also on my other posts. I was writing this more for the catharsis, after months of seeing and not really speaking about a lot of stuff. It’s nice to know, somebody read it. Some say, Kavinsky is their comfort character and, well, he will stay with me for a very long time. But enough of that. Let's talk about the point of view, xenophobia and the Dream Pack.

PoV

The running motif in TRC is, all antagonists get PoVs. No matter if they appear in one book (like Whelk) or reoccur (like the Greenmatles). The reader gets multiple chapters with their backstories, internal thoughts and goals. This move by the author is a double-edged sword, on one hand we get a better understanding of them but on the other, by knowing them better they become less effective antagonists and the air of mystery and surprise of what they're up-to/what they know is lost. E.g. In TDT we are first told about Colin Greenmatle and what is he capable of, making him a good threat for our main characters. But when we finally meet him in BLLB, with his attitude and scenes like dissing Ronan's Latin grammar or making cheese crackers while his wife is held at gun-point, he becomes more of a comedic antagonist than a villain to fear.

But here's the thing: I already lied to you. In TRC, all antagonists get PoVs, except for Kavinsky. It's a odd exception from the rule, considering Gray Man in TDT and The Wasp Demon in The Raven King, also got PoVs. But why? There are two things to look at. One I already mentioned. By giving a character PoV, the reader gets better understanding of them. By not giving Kavinsky one, Margaret didn't give anything to make K or his actions clear or understandable. By not knowing his motivations, K is left to pure interpretations, but how the reader will do it mostly will be influenced by his demonetization. Of course, not everybody will just accept what the book tells them without thinking for themselves but most fans don't.

"Bang", he said softly, withdrawing the fake gun. "See you on the street."

Alone, this single line can be interpreted in many different ways. Is it K being angry and threatening Ronan? Or maybe Joseph breaking inside because he was proofen, he really has no one? It all depends on the reader.

Second, when asked on her tumblr, if she'll ever write anything from K's pov (in 2015, before The Raven King was published), M*ggie said she won't, because: she already explored that type of character ("the thoughts and motivations of a powerful, suicidal, creative person with few inhibitions") in Sinner (2014, spin-off/companion book of her older series, The Wolves of Mercy Falls, 2009-2011 for the main three) with Cole St. Clair; that writing through PoV of such character is emotionally and mentally draining for her (which is understandable); and even if she wanted to explore it again in the future, she would through a different character's lenses than K's.

Let's talk about St. Clair.

The characters of Cole and Kavinsky have some similarities: both are drug addicts, who are rich.

That's where they end.

Cole was a famous musician, having the stereotypical rock-star life (drugs, alcohol and sleeping with fans included) with good family relationships, while K was a son of a mobster who tried to kill him and a mother who was a drug-addict herself. While their perspectives would have similarities, there is also other problems. Cole St. Clair already got PoVs in his series and a stand-alone book, Joseph Kavinsky got nothing and will get nothing. Cole had friends that cared for him and helped him, Joseph Kavinsky had his Dream Pack (which whom we don't know what type of relation he had) and his customers who we can safely say, only cared for what he can provide them with, he tried to befriend or start a relation with Ronan who rejected even the idea of it and no one even reached out to him. Cole got his happy ending and (hinted at) a girl he loved, K got rejected by everyone and committed public suicide. (Now, I heard a opinion that K didn't commit suicide, because the dragon killed him. Here is the thing, K could move out of the way multiple times, even Ronan shouted to him to move. But he didn't. He watched the dragon fly towards him and just said "The world is a nightmare.". He choose death.)

People wanted K's PoV, because they wanted to know, what pushed him to do what he did in TDT. But, in my opinion, even if M*ggie gave K pov, she would use it to further demonize him than to make the reader understand him more. She already did write a whole post exaggerating and straw-manning the canon, just to also say "Kavinsky has a very logical backstory that leads him to this place". A backstory we as the reader never truly see and one she forgot to write into her book. At the end, she truly cared only about Ronan.

Xenophobia

The Raven Cycle is a very flawed and problematic series, there are already many other posts taking about racism, misogyny, lack of diversity and many other issues with it, but in regards to Kavinsky, I'll only touch on the xenophobia. (I could talk also about portray of metal-illness, but I'm not the person to talk about it and I would feel comfortable with it.)

Kavinsky is a stereotype of a Slavic person, one we see in American media since the Cold War, especially in 80s movies. The Evil Russian trope. The son of the mobster, drug-addict, forger who can get you anything even illegal stuff, a thief.

When describing Kavinsky, one of the things Ronan mentions is: "refugee's face, hollowed-eyed and innocent". One could argue, "refugee" has many meanings, but boiling it down, is a person who came to the country to escape and seek a refuge. Many people moved to America to find a better life, in the believe of the American Dream, and many of them where driven to do that, especially from ex-Eastern Bloc countries. Kavinsky's Bulgarian, unknown if an immigrant himself or a son of immigrants, but the point still stands.

About Blue’s comment "import from somewhere else" I don't need to say much. First, obvious: You don't import people, only foreign goods, like cars. Second: this shows, he is "the other" in the eyes of the characters.

There is more to it, then just the physical description. We need to look at the outfit he wears. White tank top, white sunglasses, a small earring in one ear and a gold chain around his neck. This gives two images: one of a typical douche-bag, party asshole and the rich kid; the second of a Slavic stereotype, especially of a Russian criminal. If Margaret wanted to make K even bigger stereotype, she would dress him like a dress/gopnik, in a tracksuit.

The thing is: M*ggie could had saved the situation if she had subverted the stereotypes. E.g. K didn't wanting anything to do with the crime live, his family was forced into by circumstances or K being the guy to get stuff from, but he isn't doing it for any gain.

The truth is, K being Bulgarian doesn't add anything to his character, except for xenophobia. (Personally, I tried to find where the surname "Kavinsky" came from. It is Slavic, that much I can tell you for sure, but the rest is my speculation and searching. My best guesses are: Russian (it appears most commonly in Russian, after USA and a use in Russia set novel) or Polish (because it has uncanny simulates to the surname "Kawiński", if it was anglicized like e.g. "Kamiński" into "Kaminsky"). This isn't a common surname and with Peter from the To All the Boys trilogy and the musician, it's hard to find any information.)

But for now, K's portray is one of the many issues.

The Dream Pack or the lack of it

The Dream Pack is the unofficial name for K's group, with whom he parties and races (the canon name is "Kavinsky's Pack of Dogs" which is ugh). They're unfortunately, a non-characters. It's bolt to even call them background characters. Their portray, or again, lack of it, leaves them as props, their only role is to be K's followers and to show K as a leader on a equal ground as Gansey. We're lead to believe, they are like Kavinsky, yet another raven boys, and to make are main characters so “not like the other raven boys”. Problem rises in connection to the previous point, out of four members, only one has an English surname.

Prokopenko is a Ukrainian surname and for his description, we get "ears like wingnuts", "crooked shoulders" and his voice as "milky with drugs". It's said he had "recently attained official crony status", and was noted being in close desecrate to K for a while. Later we discover Proko is a forgery, a dream creature like Matthew and Aurora. It's heavily implied the real Prokopenko is dead, but if K had something to do with it, is unknown. He is the only character to "chortle", which Margaret said she hates and also "fratty boys and the chortling men they turn into". From this we can deduce, that not only the Dream Pack and people at K's parties but all raven boys (with the exception of the main characters) were writen like this on purpose as the personification of everything M*ggie hates. We are also informed, he drives a Golf.

Skov, who according to a deleted scene, full name is Blake Skovron, is polish (or at least anglicized version of it). In said deleted scene he's described as "major asshole, minor bigot" (unfortunately I couldn't find it to confirm it). The only canon stuff about him is: he drives a RX-7 (Mazda RX-7).

Jiang is Chinese, making him one of three canon Asian characters we see in the series (not counting Henry's father, because he's just mentioned, same goes for the Vancouver crowd). Like Proko, his role is a little bigger. In the Raven King, after Ronan finally returns to school after a long time of skipping, he tells him: "Hey, man, I thought you'd died". Ronan doesn't respond, but tells the reader he doesn't want to see Jiang outside of his car, racing. The only other thing we know about him: he drives a Supra (Toyota Supra).

Swan is the only one with an English name, but all we know about him is: he drives Volkswagen Golf, one that matches Proko's.

(For future writers: what car a character drives, isn't a personality trait.)

With the already minimal diversity, this shows the non-Americans as the antagonists or at least "the worst". On the opposite side, we have our main characters. Richard Campbell Gansey III, who has the whitest and British name I ever saw; Adam Parrish, born and raised in Henrietta, Virginia; Ronan Lynch, son of a Irish immigrant, whose Irish identity starts and ends on tit-bits; Blue Sargent, who is half-tree and ambiguous, but was drawn as white by the author multiple times (Yes, I am aware of the Instagram post, but Margaret herself said, she isn't confirming anything that isn't already written in her books. She couldn't even confirm Adam's hair color and made a joke out of it.) The only exception is Noah Czerny, whose surname is Slavic (probably Czech), but this bares no effect on his character.

The Dream Pack are the whole communities babies, created by head-canons and fanons, their relations with Kavinsky and themselves are explored, who they are as people, their appearance, their interests... This is beautiful how many different versions and interpretations of non-existing characters is there. (I, myself also made a version for a rewrite, based partly on the fanon.)

But at the end of the day, the fans did the author's job of creating believe friend group and in the end, their only function was to show, Kavinsky is a king, just like Gansey.

[cringeynews]

New Post has been published on

New Post has been published on http://cringeynews.com/featured/to-understand-britney-spears-you-need-to-understand-her-hair/

To understand Britney Spears, you need to understand her hair

Pogs. Furbys. Juicy Couture tracksuits. American Pie. Willa Ford.

These are just a few of the trends Britney Spears has outlasted in her long and storied career, which spans nine albums, 20 years, and countless iconic moments that today’s celebrity Snapchat wars could never hope to replicate.

Even as new generations of bobbleheaded pop stars keep cropping up to snatch her crown, Britney has been a unique fascination from the moment she danced her way around a Catholic high school in 1998’s “…Baby One More Time” video.

Even escaping to Las Vegas for a multiple-year residency — an eternity in the celebrity news cycle — hasn’t stopped Spears from being one of the biggest and most instantly recognizable stars on this whole dumb planet.

When the aliens come, don’t be surprised if they don’t care about us taking them to our leaders when they could meet Britney Jean Spears instead.

She’s also gone through so many career transformations, rock bottoms, and comebacks that it can be hard to remember how, exactly, Britney Spears became the icon she is today. As any of her devoted fans will tell you, though, Britney’s always played the poker game of celebrity with one painfully obvious tell: her hair.

If you want to know how Britney Spears is doing, all you have to do is look at her hair (or the wigs and weaves she wears to approximate it) — which, when you think about it, makes her about as relatable as a pop star can get.

So as we celebrate Brit’s 35th birthday, let’s take a break from our own mundane lives to look back at the 20 years that brought Britney Spears to this point, by way of her mood ring hairstyles.

1) Britney Spears Original Flavor: dirty blonde (1998–2001)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

When Britney Spears charged into the spotlight on the edge of a new millennium, her naughty Catholic schoolgirl routine for “…Baby One More Time” was tempered by the fact that the bubbly 17-year-old also seemed like your kid’s favorite babysitter — a contrast that was, of course, purposeful.

As we later came to realize, Britney’s family and managerial team carefully calibrated her public persona, and in the beginning that meant selling sex while being a paragon of virtue. So while the other pop starlets in Britney’s early orbit — Christina Aguilera, Jessica Simpson, even Mandy Moore — defaulted to brighter, louder blondes, she started off as a softer honey blonde, to slightly undercut her salacious image.

2) Blonde(r) ambition (2001–2005)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

Soon enough, though, Britney couldn’t escape the blonde — nor, arguably, did she want to. Though her team kept assigning her a virginal narrative even throughout her high-profile relationship with cocky N’Sync leading man Justin Timberlake, Britney pushed back against that sterile persona, becoming more openly sexual, even a little dangerous.

By the time she debuted her legendary “I’m a Slave 4 U” performance at the 2001 VMAs, she’d amped up not only her dance moves but also the amount of peroxide in her perpetually whipping hair.

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From there on out, Britney made clear that she was — say it with me/I am so sorry — not that innocent. (First and last one, I swear.) She became the sex symbol her image had always teased, vamping it up with a self-aware smirk. This glorious time included her 2003 album In the Zone — widely considered one of her best — not to mention her 2003 hit “Britney makes out with Madonna at the VMAs.”

[embedded content]

But by 2004, Britney’s grip on her world was starting to slip — or maybe more accurately, Britney started to slip from the world. Forces within both her own circle and the salivating music industry were pulling the sweetly dorky Louisiana girl in a thousand directions, and it was only a matter of time before she broke.

2004 was the end of polished Britney. Reports of drug use and mental health breaks started circulating in the tabloids, and then a Vegas trip with childhood friends ended in a spontaneous wedding — and hasty annulment — that gave the press ammunition for years. She met Kevin Federline, a backup dancer with cornrows and a “who gives a fuck?” vibe that Britney probably found refreshing. Finally, her tour got delayed when she tore her ACL during dance rehearsal — and shortly thereafter, she proposed to Federline.

This time is maybe best summed up by the 2005 reality show Britney and Federline starred in, featuring footage they shot of each other acting stoned and snorting through Cheetos: Chaotic.

3) The debut of “Brunetteny” (2006)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

One of the first signs that Britney was about to go even more dramatically off script came when she ditched any semblance of blonde for a dark brown weave in 2006.

Two years after she tore her ACL, “Brunetteny” — as her fiercely loyal self-described “Brit Army” of fans call this bizarro version of her — played by a different set of rules than the pop star we’d come to know.

She abandoned her old persona completely, embracing the chaos of being exactly the opposite of everything people thought she was before. Then Britney got pregnant, and Brunetteny became an even more clearly different persona, separate from her previous blonde teen princess act. She had two sons within two years — Sean Preston in 2005, Jayden James in 2006 — and backed off the grueling performance schedule she’d been under since she was just a kid herself.

Britney was done trying to be the slick package of sexed-up stardust the industry had sold her as, and Brunetteny was her way of saying so.

But if anyone thought Britney’s rebellious stage would culminate in something as banal as a Vegas wedding, an ill-advised investment in a shady backup dancer, or brunette wigs … well, they were mistaken.

4) Shaved hair, don’t care (2007)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

In 2007, Britney’s marriage to Federline crumbled into a fine powder, and her mental health became the subject of worldwide discussion. Once her family and Federline took her sons away from her, she spiraled hard.

She tried rehab, ditched rehab, and cut out her family and friends for a new circle of people whose close ties with the paparazzi ushered in an unprecedented new era of scrutiny into Britney’s personal life at the exact moment when she was at her lowest.

The situation, Rolling Stone wrote then, was dire. When Britney left rehab without completing any kind of program, her family and friends wondered if she was about to self-destruct:

She arrived at Federline’s house for her babies, but he had joined forces with Lynne [Britney’s mother] and Rudolph [Britney’s manager], and wouldn’t talk to her until she registered at the Malibu rehab center Promises. She circled his house three times, furious at having to concede to their demands, before pulling into a random hair salon in the Valley and taking her hair off in big clumps, less as a penance than a liberation. Then she stayed up for forty-eight hours straight, driving around, sucking down dozens of Red Bulls, afraid that she was being followed by demons, or that a cell-phone charger was taping her thoughts, and obsessively listening to the radio for news about Anna Nicole Smith’s death earlier that month. That was her fate, she declared — she was next.

Everyone — including Britney, apparently — thought they knew what was coming. But when she did snap, she still managed to surprise the hell out of all of us.

You know the pictures. Britney, peering at herself in a mirror, shaves off what’s left of her brown hair with a giant grin. Britney, bald head peeking out of a loose sweatshirt, gets tattooed. Britney, wild-eyed, grips an umbrella and beats the hell out of a paparazzo’s car.

As “fuck you”s go, though, this one was pretty spectacular.

5) The pink wig (2007–2008)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

The moments after the head shaving were dark for Britney. Rehab wouldn’t take, she had lost custody of her kids, and Kevin Federline was screening her calls. But Britney’s always been able to put on a show, and in 2007 she might’ve singlehandedly staged the most compelling entertainment of the year. (Google reminds me that the Oscar winner for Best Picture that year was The Departed, but I don’t care, I stand by it.)

Britney’s biggest fans at this point might have been the paparazzi, who stalked her from her driveway to Starbucks and back again. They learned how to anticipate when she was likely to give them something of interest beyond detailing which Frappuccino flavor is her favorite. (She revealed in 2011 that it’s strawberry, and also, the fact that we still cared about what her favorite Frappuccino flavor was a good five years after we were done caring about Frappuccinos speaks to Britney’s strange charisma.)

One detail of Britney’s appearance was a particularly solid indication that something strange was on the horizon: a hot pink bobbed wig, crumpled and frizzy, like she’d just fished it out of the bottom of a long-forgotten Party City sale bin. As one charming paparazzo told People then: “When she puts on the pink wig, you just know something crazy is about to happen.”

And so it did. She’d throw on the wig and tear around the Los Angeles canyons, leading the paparazzi on wild goose chases while taunting them in a British accent, seemingly manic and desperate for approval. Sometimes she’d even stop to hang out with them — which is how she met boyfriend Adnan Ghalib, a former paparazzo whose job used to be to follow her around.

Consider all this when you realize that in October 2007 — eight months after she shaved her head — Britney still managed to put out Blackout, her best album to date.

The wig reluctantly went into retirement once her father, Jamie Spears, stepped in, securing a temporary conservatorship over his daughter’s life and finances — a drastic measure, and one that’s since become a permanent fixture of Britney’s life.

Britney still loves wigs, but that pink bob is imprinted on her history like a bruise that refuses to fade.

6) Finding a new normal through questionable blond weaves (2008– 2013)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

These were the best of times. These were the worst of times.

As Spears tried to grow out her hair underneath a series of excruciatingly bad weaves, her career ramped back up into high gear — though she clearly wasn’t ready.

Watching her now-infamous performance of “Gimme More” at the 2007 VMA’s is like watching someone sleepwalking, and not being sure if waking her would be the best or worst thing. Instead of really dancing — always Britney’s favorite part of performing — she listlessly wandered across the stage, looking less like a pop star than a figure skater who got bored and started thinking about where to get lunch.

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In a 2008 cover story titled “The Tragedy of Britney Spears,” Rolling Stone called her “a perfectly proportioned twenty-six-year-old porcelain doll with a nasty weave.”

Slowly, though, Britney clawed her way out of her hell. Though her father’s conservatorship monitored her every decision — and, again, continues to do so today — she recommitted to being a pop star. She released solid pop albums Circus (2008) and Femme Fatale (2011), before the more introspective Britney Jean (2013). In 2013 she announced her Vegas residency, a show called Piece of Me that would run 50 times a year.

In her exclusive announcement with Good Morning America, Britney smiled from behind enormous sunglasses, a helicopter whirring away behind her. “I’m definitely ready,” she said.

And she was right.

7) A new contender — “Auburtney”? “Redheadny?” — appears (2014)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

As Britney settled into the role of anchoring her own Vegas experience, she turned back to her Brunetteny roots, this time with more of a red sheen than she’d ever had. This was a brief period, but still significant if only because Britney trying brown hair on for size usually signals a restlessness with her own image.

Vegas was a whole new stage for Britney’s career, and though she ended up embracing it to the point where she’s now extended her stay through 2017, she was still figuring out exactly what it — not to mention she — was going to be. For Britney, that usually means dusting off another wig, slipping on a different persona, and trying something new for the sake of it.

8) Mermaid Britney (2015)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

Maybe the best sign of Britney’s improved mental state is her Instagram. In 2015, the boilerplate posts telling fans to go to Vegas in unsettlingly stilted social media speak disappeared. Britney’s Instagram became way more personal, filled with videos of her sons doing skateboard tricks in their Vegas backyard, motivational quotes, and more pictures of sparkly fairies and apple-cheeked babies than Anne Geddes could stuff in a teapot.

At one point, Britney got her hands on a phosphorescent mermaid tail, which she wore to lounge around the pool with her sons and niece in the Vegas heat. She dyed the tips of her hair to match, and thus, Mermaid Britney — a determined performer and goofy mom — got her name.

Also: Mermaid Britney came to slay.

When she started the show in 2014, she was tentative; in 2015, she owned that stage. Her performing is more solid than it’s been in a decade, as she switches up her Piece of Me dance numbers and incorporates new jams for dozens of high-octane performances a year.

9) Back to blonde (2016–?)

Javier Zarracina / Vox

Today, Britney Spears has settled into her role about as comfortably as could be expected, given the fact that she’s spent her entire life trying to be a person while everyone surrounding her tries to fold her into boxes.

But at 35, Britney’s fully twice the age she was when “…Baby One More Time” came out and her life changed forever. She’s a mom who posts inspirational memes and videos of her sons with her giggle as their soundtracks. She’s a performer who churns out show after show, who released a ninth album that has more variation than any she’s done, who knows everything you think of her and has become her own person in spite of it.

Glory be.

Via

[clairedmaddox]

Wasting Time

The following is an excerpt from The Lund Loop Newsletter. To learn more click here.

It was an interesting week.

Sunday was Father’s Day and I didn’t get in a fight with my wife. That’s a major accomplishment because it seems like right before every holiday – both major and minor – we get into an argument.

The blame is mostly mine for not being mindful of the stress these holidays give her, and thus treading lightly in the 24 to 48 hours before they begin.

I made the same mistake (again) this year on Mother’s Day – though I was oblivious to it at first.

Rising early, I got everything set up to celebrate the day, but by 11:00am, my wife had not come downstairs. A text inquiring if she was up yet went unanswered, so I decided to run out and do a few errands.

Being a heroic husband, I texted again around noon to see if she wanted me to pick her up something for lunch.

Ding!

“No, thanks” was the response.

Whew, I thought. I’m in the clear.

But I wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

Ding!

“By the way, I’m mad at you.”

That was followed by a series of “dings”, each indicating that a new one-line text had come through, none of which were very flattering towards me.

“I’ll give her a minute to cool down,” I said to myself. But a few minutes later, the dings were still coming in hot and heavy.

It reminded me of playing slots in Vegas and hitting 7 – 7 – plum – cherry – 7. It’s a winner but not listed on the payout chart, so you don’t know how much you’ll get or when it will stop.

At five texts I thought about defending myself, but before I could think of something to say, we were at ten texts, and at that point, even I knew better.

After strategizing a bit, I decided to reply with “I hear what you’re saying.”

But before I could hit “send” my wife must have seen the three floating dots indicating I was writing because she preempted me with “don’t even start texting right now.”

Backspace, backspace, backspace…

At fifteen I thought it’d be safe to use the emoji version of “I hear you,” and begin giving every fifth text the thumbs up symbol.

Suffice to say, there was a lot of venting going on, and though I was fully prepared to let it run its course, she could have at least taken some etiquette from Twitter and let me know how long the textstorm was going to last.

“1/432 You’re an asshole.”

But on this Father’s Day, I (finally) learned my lesson. Though it is my day – in theory – I tiptoed around the days leading up to it and made sure I didn’t do, say, or even think anything that would get me in trouble.

Tuesday found me wrapping up another year of my kid’s scholastic career. It’s always a painful day for me.

My father liked to work with his hands and always had a project going on. When he died, he was in the middle of building an old-fashioned children’s sled -which was rather odd as we lived in Southern California and there were no children in the house.

His process was meticulous.

The garage workbench was the nexus of the project. It was there where he kept the plans, tools, and materials needed to build the sled, as well as the custom-made hardware, decals, and ornamentation, each stored and labeled in their own specific pullout drawer.

Each piece had significance. Each piece had import. And losing just one of them – even a single stainless-steel screw – could stop the project in its tracks.

But the moment he died, the project – and the pieces that made it up – lost their meaning.

The hand-carved runners. The polished blades. The rose and thistle stenciling. Every part of the sled suffered a terminal loss of what made it important.

A small death brought on by a larger one.

Fully aware of the dramatics the statement carries, the end of the school year is a small death of sorts for me.

The backpacks and lunch boxes so deliberated over just nine months prior are cast aside, tattered and torn.

The required folders for each subject, decorated with doodles of boredom and superheroes of inspiration, have no more part to play.

The science project we stayed up until midnight to finish, the lines for the school play we memorized, and the 36 grammar and spelling packets we stressed about weekly no longer mean a thing.

And my kids could care less, so it’s up to me to sift through the ephemera from their final day to determine what things – if any – I should save.

Lecture notes, quizzes, and homework assignments are easy – trash, trash, and trash.

It’s a toss-up with the art projects, term papers, and report cards, things they might look back on with fondness – or at least curiosity – 20 years from now, but then again, may not give a damn about.

I used my best judgment and saved about 2/3rds, while the rest went into the trash.

But the backpacks and lunch boxes aren’t as clear cut.

In my mind, I envision mounting them chronologically – trophy hunter style – along a highly lacquered piece of oak, with appropriate grade level and teacher’s names on brass plaques under each.

I will then present these totems – with great pride and tears in my eyes – to my children at their respective wedding receptions.

To which they will, if I’m lucky, respond with a gentle hug and “there, there” pat on the back, while winking at the crowd behind me. But more likely, will just stare in shocked embarrassment, then give the DJ a frantic head nod, meaning, “quick, play some Bruno Mars so we can get out on the dance floor.”

So, I put them in the “we’ll see” pile.

Finally, I come to the gut punch pieces. The “Why I Love My Mom/Dad” type pieces. The easy pieces.

When I turned 20 my mother kicked me out of the house – rightly so as I was an insufferable A-hole. But when I left, boxes of my belongings – packed by her – came as well.

In those boxes were years of art projects, term papers, and report cards, but also “Why I Love My Mom” projects. To this day I can’t figure out why? Why didn’t she want to keep those for herself?

I made them for her.

When it comes to my kids there’s no question about those types of items – I want them all. And so, I hoard every single one of them.

Friday found me lying in a dimly lit room as a technician moved warm gel around my abdomen with an ultrasound wand.

No, I’m not pregnant.

Two weeks ago, I went in for my annual physical. For the most part, everything checked out okay.

But when the labs came back, there were some minor issues.

My cholesterol was slightly above normal. This is a semi-regular occurrence since turning 40 and means I’ve been too sedentary. I start riding my bike, running on the treadmill, and limit my Double-Double intake to once every other week, and like clockwork it goes back down into the normal range.

I also had slightly elevated liver enzymes. And when I say “slightly,” I mean “slightly.”

Google “normal liver enzyme range” and you’ll universally get a range of between 10 and 40. However, for some reason, my doctor/labs say 10 to 35 is the normal range – and I came back at 38. Last year I was at 37.

To me, this was not very worrisome. Lot’s of things can raise your enzyme count. Alcohol. Check. Prescription medication. Check. Tylenol. Check. Let’s just say, it was no mystery to me as to why my levels might be slightly elevated. But my doctor suggested an abdominal ultrasound.

I’ve got great insurance, so why not?

Lying on the table, I tried my best to avoid playing “game the technician,” but it was unavoidable.

The rules of the game state that the technician will know exactly what they are looking at on the screen. Kidney stone, swallowed car keys, stage IV cancer, they can discern them at a glance.

And so, I watch the technician for telltale signs.

A furl of the brow. A twitch of the eye. The almost imperceivably quick frown which says, “WHOA! THIS MUTHER FUCKER HAS CANCER.”

But my tech had a poker face and wasn’t giving away any clues.

No problem. I have a fallback plan.

She was taking a lot of time on my right side. And one spot – just under my ribs – seemed to have a particular interest for her.

Back she went to that same spot, over, and over again.

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT…SHE’S FOUND SOMETHING,” I screamed to myself.

Okay, calm down, I thought. You don’t know how this is done. Maybe this is part of the standard procedure?

Desperation breeds genius, and in a stroke of revelation I came up with a plan. If she spends the same amount of time scanning my left side as my right side, then everything is normal.

The right side had taken about 5 minutes, so when she started on the left side I began counting.

“Okay, we’re done,” she said.

It had only been two minutes.

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, I’M DYING. I’M A DEAD MAN!”

The report came back fine. Everything is fine.

But laying on that table it occurred to me that everything could change in a moment. You go along in your life thinking everything is great, then you get hit by a car, your child gets ill, or they find a tumor on your liver.

And it also occurred to me that if that happened, I’d be so mad at myself for having wasted time arguing with my wife, or stressing out about keeping worn out backpacks, or worrying about getting sick while I was healthy.

As I said, it was an interesting week.

Wasting Time published first on your-t1-blog-url