#oh look a self portrait for the first time in 80 years

[bigmammallama5]

do you ever just. yeah.

[brainysmurfofficial]

Evolution of Brainy Smurf, Part 5: Quotations of Brainy Smurf

Years covered: 1983-1985.

(Don’t forget to check out my previous posts on this blog if you haven’t!)

Our look into the Brainy of the 80s cartoon series continues! But first, let’s return to the world of the comics for a moment.

In the story Easter Smurfs (from what I can surmise, publication date would be 1983!), we can see Brainy’s egoistic streak rears its head: he contemplates giving Papa Smurf a portrait of himself as a gift for Easter. We also see that scheming, manipulative side usually shown by cartoon Brainy, but in the comics this time: he steals Baker Smurf’s personally-made gift for Papa Smurf to pass it off as his own.

We also see the interior of his home, where we can note books lining the wall, as well as a smurfified version of the phrase “Dura lex, sed lex” (“The law is harsh but it is the law” – yeah, definitely on-theme for comics Brainy!)

Brainy’s characterisation in this comic definitely feels a little different from what it had been before in the comics – a bit more aligned with that of his cartoon counterpart. Seeing as the cartoon show was already well underway by this point, could it be possible that his depiction here was influenced somewhat by his characterisation in the cartoon? An interesting possibility to consider.

But let’s finally get back into the show then, shall we? I’d like to proceed and have a bit of a look at seasons 3-5.

By this point, the basis of Brainy’s distinct 80s cartoon personality is more than established as the know-nothing know-it-all - a bluffing egotist desperate to project an illusion of knowledge who is also prone to indulging in melodrama. He is someone who loves to boss around others, to criticise and critique, to needlessly complicate and bureaucratise… He loves rules, he loves procedures, and he loves enforcing such structures. Continuing these trends, seasons 3-5 are abundant with demonstrations of all of these facets, and more.

In Love Those Smurfs, it’s no coincidence that it’s Vanity, Snappy and Brainy who are the only smurfs not affected by the spell of self-love – naturally, in plots like that, the writers tend to have the unaffected smurfs be the ones who already exhibit given trait(s) that a spell would invoke.

We’re told that Brainy’s very first word was gobbledegook, a perfect encapsulation of… Well. One only has to look at the false diagnoses he loves to throw around:

Brainy: My diagnosis concludes that Baby Smurf has a severe case of grumpirumpititus, aggravated by rumpus moisitosis, aggravated by- Papa: Brainy! There’s no such thing. Brainy: Oh. [Laughs sheepishly]

Of course, it’s not all bad. Episodes like Papa’s Family Album and The Dark-Ness Monster certainly show Brainy’s capacity for greater depths.

That said, in these seasons, Brainy really does not hesitate to show off how exceedingly overconfident he is – considering himself a “smurf of all trades”, such as in The Gingerbread Smurfs, assuming himself to have sufficient standing to posit himself as a better baker than Greedy Smurf despite an obvious lack of expertise, to say the least.

Funnily enough, there was one episode that made me go “Huh, Brainy’s characterisation here reminds me a lot more of his comics version, and isn’t (usually) what I’d strictly expect of him in the show…��� and what do you know, I then noticed that Peyo himself indeed worked on that episode! I refer to Smurf the Other Cheek and Brainy’s lecture on “the virtue of cleanliness”.

Of course, bossiness and lectures and what have you are nothing new for Brainy, but it’s really the subject matter that made it rather reminiscent of comics Brainy for me. It’s a lecture on virtue, which comics Brainy has really based himself around – cartoon Brainy will lecture others on anything and everything (including virtues, as this very episode demonstrates), however, the “anything and everything” lack of focus makes the sudden lecture on virtue all the more noticeable when it’s coming from cartoon Brainy. And while cartoon Brainy has shown a love of bureaucracy, order, procedure, etc. – all of that is still different from something like cleanliness. A concept like order certainly has its overlaps with cleanliness, but I would argue that you cannot deny they are still two separate, different things. He hasn’t really shown any strong focus on the theme of cleanliness on its own specifically prior to this point. But espousing virtues of all kinds – the theme of virtue – is a very comics Brainy thing.

All this to say: I felt that Peyo’s influence really showed through there! Both comics version and cartoon version already have their subtle influences on one another, perhaps.

One point of clarification: although cartoon Brainy does have a sort of lecturing-on-virtues theme when he, say, chastises Lazy for laziness, Greedy for gluttony, etc – but I would argue that the point of those interactions always seems to be more focused on a theme of bossiness and telling others what to do as opposed to promoting traditional virtues when 80s cartoon Brainy is the one carrying it out. He will just as readily tell Handy how he should build things, how Painter should paint, how Tailor should make clothes – and none of those things have anything to do with virtue.

The virtue/morality/prig theming is, basically, a lot more prominent with comics Brainy.

Another episode I’d like to take a look at is the one in which the smurflings were introduced. In their introductory episode, they burst onto the scene in a challenge of tradition and convention- they buck traditional smurf attire for their own preferences and also challenge other areas of smurf life with novel and unique approaches.

What they bring to the table is fresh and new. They are a force of change.

Of course, this analysis doesn’t have the smurflings as its focus – rather, what the smurfings bring about, what they represent, has been elaborated on here in order to contrast it with our dear, hapless Brainy. More specifically, I would like to highlight how the episode itself contrasts the smurflings’ arrival and their ways with Brainy. He is cast as the traditionalist, all about structure, rules, all about enforcement of the orthodox and of conventional procedures, “old-timey”. Someone who will freely declare “smurflings should be seen and not heard”.

If the smurflings are a force of change, then Brainy, as an opposing force, is one aspiring to an enforcement of a perceived or constructed status quo. Indeed, he gets outright referred to as “old-fashioned” within the episode.

Though smurfs like Tailor balked at the smurflings turning their backs on traditional smurfwear, everyone seems caught up in the thrill of the moment when the smurflings begin performing onstage – that is, everyone except Brainy. The look on everyone’s faces is akin to surprised delight, meanwhile Brainy is more baffled and disapproving. The new musical style confuses him, and he simply can’t abide by it.

Brainy: Papa Smurf, what kind of music is that?? Papa: Er, I don’t think there is a name for it, Brainy. Clumsy: Oh, gosh, it’s so new, it doesn’t even have a name!

Brainy: I’ll give it a name, it’s phooey. Papa: Now, now, Brainy, the uh smurflings are merely – aheh – expressing themselves.

And on that cue –

A wave of gasps goes up amongst the crowd that sounds somewhere caught between pleasant surprise (as one can see the smiles remaining on the smurfs in the back of the image) but almost bordering on scandalised as well, as Brainy and Papa’s expressions both turn to shock – Papa himself is momentarily stunned. Yes, as it’s then shown, the smurflings are expressing themselves – in this moment, not just through their music, but also through dance.

Brainy: Papa Smurf, that is not the dance of the hundred smurfs we’ve all grown to know and love!

Brainy sounds truly affronted – upset. He finds this new style of dancing an insult to what he knows. He is entrenched in the Old Ways, inflexible and not ready to adapt. In contrast, Papa is more welcoming of the change the smurflings bring and represent – speculating that he may be a smurf “ahead of his time”, which is a ready contrast and indication that Brainy is someone rigid and steeped in the past, seeing as Papa has only just been speaking to Brainy who had reiterated his distaste for the smurflings’ music at the episode’s end. He really doesn’t “get” it – it being the new style.

It's testament to the fact that Brainy is truly the resident naysayer, ready to (try and) shoot things down that no smurf else seems to have a problem with, to enforce norms and standards and, in this case, presents a push to “stick to what is known”. This is not to say he always presents with the latter viewpoint – but rather, that this is his role within this episode, and can indicate much about his positioning within the show, and tell us something about his character overall.

Quotations From Brainy Smurf

Finally, I would like to address another point of interest which this post’s title draws upon directly: Brainy’s authoring of his own works. I would also like to comment that the overall title of this post (“Quotations of Brainy Smurf”) is actually something of a misnomer when it comes to a consideration of how these works are actually referred to in-canon; the title of this section (“Quotations from Brainy Smurf”) is actually used with far greater frequency.

As mentioned previously, Brainy writing his own books is a phenomenon that is nowhere to be found within the first two seasons. The third season marks the beginning of references made to “the complete works of Brainy Smurf” (Episode: The Smurfs’ Time Capsule), his memoirs (Episode: Greedy and the Porridge Pot) and, of course, Quotations from Brainy Smurf (Episode: The Golden Smurf Award). (We also get a reference to “Quotations of Brainy Smurf” in A Chip Off The Old Smurf). And for the whole of season 3… that seems to be about it!

Season 4 is more abundant with references to this aspect of Brainy, now that the concept has been introduced by the writing team in the previous season – they pick it up and really run with it! Of course, within the canon of the show itself, we are lead to believe that Brainy has been writing books of his own for most of his life, and that it’s simply an aspect of his character that had not been made salient previously (nor would it have really been present in the minds of the writers prior to its introduction).

It’s not until season 5 that we’re shown Brainy actually branching out into different realms of subject matter beyond mere quotations and journal-ing and memoir-writing. It’s not enough for him to merely write about himself, or to impose his “wit and wisdom” and his quotations onto others: Brainy Smurf will write a book on just about anything, as he is under the unassailable assumption that he is an expert on all things and thus all things are under his purview to be written about. Whether it’s Brainy Smurf’s Secrets to a Successful Future or Games According to Brainy Smurf, he’ll have just the book you’re looking for! Or at least… that’s what he’ll claim, anyway.

Brainy: Mrs Porcupine, when it comes to babies, I wrote the book!

Designated Naysayer

To return to the earlier mentions of naysaying –

Fundamentally, Brainy Smurf fulfilling the role of the naysayer is done alongside being a prolific complainer. He is someone who loves to complain and will typically be written to oppose whatever thing he can be presented as being the most annoying or foolish for opposing in a given scenario. Because that’s the other thing – he is almost always supposed to be the smurf who is In The Wrong – whether that’s playing the role of the fool who falsely believes obvious untruths or the overly skeptical and oblivious fool who can’t notice the obvious, just as an example. It matters not whether he seemingly contradicts himself with his stances at different times (readily and eagerly believing in supernatural phenomena in episodes operating within a framework that suggests such a thing is ridiculous, then refusing to believe in the supernatural in episodes where it makes the most sense to do so) because the only thing of paramount importance (from a writing perspective) in these cases is that he’s usually being an antagonistic against something, whatever that something is.

(And of course, the writers frequently “have their cake and eat it too” by throwing in a nice layer of hypocrisy – when he tries to act like the staunch skeptic, he will often be the first to become afraid by something seemingly supernatural. When he does believe something that turns out to be false, he will claim he knew the truth from the beginning!)

He will support something when it’s counterproductive to do so and oppose something when it is the best solution, because Brainy is someone who is always readily available to act as an antagonistic force on the whim of the writers.

From a diegetic perspective, one can also argue that this is one realm where Brainy’s hypocrisy shines through and that even beyond a Doylist framework, the explanation from a Watsonian point of view is that he is a smurf that likes to be antagonistic “for the sake of it” and enjoys fulfilling this role.

Next time, we will return and see how his character continues to be represented in further seasons of the cartoon show. Thank you so much for reading!!

[vinceaddams]

What would your ideal outfit for a ball at Lost Hope be?

Ooh that's a good question! In the book they all wore very up to date fashionable clothing there, but 1810's is later than my favourite eras of fashion, so I'll assume I can dress more like they did in the mini-series where everyone's in fashions of various different eras.

(Not the most accurate, but hey, they're mostly extras and it's a fantasy scene so I don't mind, especially since the main characters have such good costumes.)

With the lighting it's hard to tell what the colours are, but it looks to be a lot of pale greenish greyish colours, which I quite like. I am very fond of lichen-y greens.

My first instinct would be to say a 1740's or 50's suit with frogging on the coat, kind of like this one, but in foresty colours to give it a mossy appearance.

(Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon, by François-Hubert Drouais, 1753.)

I'm not sure if that would be appropriate for a ball though. I don't know for sure, but I get the impression that these frogged coats tend to be more informal? And quite a large portion of them are fur lined ones which I think are more for at-home wear.

It would be so much fun to make frogging that looked like little clusters of lichen and mushrooms, on a fabric that's.. hmm, maybe light brownish grey silk brocade that's woven to look like stylized tree bark texture. And I'd have a contrasting waistcoat in lichen green, with a lichen and mushroomy pattern either embroidered or woven to shape.

And of course the usual accessories - shoes with pretty buckles, white stockings, queue bag, plain white neck stock. I'd have my hair nicely styled like this (or Maybe a wig, since my hair is getting quite thin and harder to style):

(Maurice Quentin De La Tour, Self portrait, 1751)

But if propriety forbids my possibly informal frogged coat then I think I'd have go 1730's. I do love love love the fashions of 1785-95, but I'm honestly not so keen on the court dress from that era. That particularly popular style of polychrome floral embroidery on dark velvet with little woven geometric patterns just doesn't do it for me. Late 80's-early 90's is my long time favourite, but more for the fun mix and match stuff, and all the wacky patterns and embroideries. I'm also not quite as fond of the cuts of late 18th-early 19th century court suits as I am of everything else.

But the 30's! No weird mixing of dark geometric velvet and bright florals! And the fuller coat skirts would look nicer while dancing. (I don't know how to dance at all, but I'm assuming I'd learn pretty quickly if I was kidnapped by fairies and sent to dance at a ball all night every night.)

I'd want a suit that's cut basically the same as this 1730's one I finished last year.

But with the breeches and the coat in plain velvet in either green or brown, and the coat cuffs and waistcoat in a contrasting brocade in mostly pale greens and greys. I like it when the coat has contrasting cuffs made of the same fabric as the waistcoat, and it continues well into the 18th century in some capacity, but was much more popular earlier. Which makes sense, since it works so much better with those bigger styles of coat cuff!

(John Vanderbank - John Bourchier, 1732)

Yeah I could just use a plain contrasting silk and embroider it instead, but I'd prefer to do that thing where you've got a gorgeous brocade with an absolutely enormous asymmetrical pattern and the repeat is so big that you can't see the whole design on your waistcoat, and certainly not on your coat cuffs, so you've got unique and varied little chunks of the design.

(Young Knight of the Order of St John by Antonio David, c. 1730, detail)

(Portrait of a Gentleman, Louis-Michel Van Loo, 1734, detail.)

So a big brocade like that, but in a more whimsical pattern depicting twisty old trees and mushrooms and lichen and such. It's a good thing the fabric I'm describing doesn't exist to tempt me, so I can't add this to my already horribly long "to sew" list.

And with the buttons and buttonholes all done in silver thread, like the ones above. Not this layout though, I'd want mine evenly spaced and I wouldn't put those extra buttons on the buttonhole side.

The shirt would be pretty much like the one in the above portrait, just a normal fancy shirt for the 30's with some nice lace. And as long as I'm describing fantasy textiles for a fairy ball, I also want a pattern of little mushrooms woven into the lace itself. Ohhh now I'm sad that I can't have some nice cotton or linen lace with a pattern of little mushrooms in it :( Maybe I could do some whitework embroidered ruffles like that someday...

Ok, yes, that is what I'd wear! 1730's suit in muted brown or green velvet with a waistcoat and coat cuffs in pale green/grey brocade with a huge woven pattern of forest-y things, and with silver buttons & buttonholes. Same accessories as I said for the one with the frogging, because stocks and queue bags and buckle shoes are in fashion for quite a long period of time. Normally the shoes and queue bag are black, but for this maybe I'd soften them down to a nice grey. Early 18th century men's shoes aren't nearly as cute as late 18th century men's shoes, but oh well! I'd still feel darn cute in such an outfit, with my big swishy coat and my hair in nice little poofy curled sections at the sides.

That was really fun to think about, thank you for asking!

[goldenraeofsun]

in my defense, I have none

A redo of the first installment of this verse!

Castiel scrawls his name on a nametag and offers Becky at the makeshift welcome desk a hesitant smile.

She beams back. “Hope you enjoy the reunion!”

Castiel strides down the familiar halls of Edlund High School and does his best not to regress to his teenage self, dodging glances and hunching his shoulders to make himself smaller. It’s been ten goddamn years; he has changed. 

He passes a couple of his old classmates - he doesn’t recognize them - pointing at a poster with old pictures, excitedly naming names.

“Look at Dean Winchester, oh my god, I haven’t thought about him in years! I had the worst crush on him, you know?”

Her companion snorts. “You and everyone else.”

Castiel snorts. Everyone else, indeed.

He walks deliberately on, following the music to the gym. The bass thumps in a vaguely-familiar rhythm, but Castiel can't name the song or singer for the life of him. In high school, he didn’t listen to much contemporary music. His mother preferred the classical stations at home, and Dean, of course, only played his version of the classics in his car.

“Music stopped being good after the mid-80s,” Dean said as they drove down the dark highway, no headlights, only them. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.”

Castiel doesn’t remember what he said in return, but he remembers the way Dean laughed, how his eyes crinkled, how he tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, how he looked, looking back at Cas.

Castiel steps into the reunion. The gym has been festooned with what looks like old prom decorations. Streamers hang off the walls in Edlund’s school colors, and bunches of mostly-inflated balloons are taped along the collapsed bleachers spelling out their graduating year. A slideshow of old yearbook photos flashes against the far wall of the gym.

Castiel stares out at a room full of strangers.

Inwardly, he sighs. He was hardly a social butterfly in high school. The exact opposite, actually. He can’t name a single person - except one - that would be able to put a name to his face. 

“Clarence!”

Make that two. 

Castiel spins around at the familiar voice. “Meg?”

He should have known. But if Castiel has learned anything over the past few years, it’s Meg Masters defies all expectations. He’d been surprised enough when she marched right up to him at his old school - Morning Star Academy - and asked him out to lunch.

After listening to him awkwardly explain that he was gay, Meg rolled her eyes and told him she just wanted to catch up. They had gone to the same high school, she said.

She didn’t seem very bothered when he said he didn’t remember her. All she did was make him pay for that first lunch, and that was the extent of his punishment for forgetting. 

When Castiel took his current job at Carver Preparatory in their hometown school district, they started meeting up for drinks instead of lunch.

Meg smirks. “I didn’t think you were going to this little shindig.”

“It didn’t come up,” Castiel says distractedly as he scans the gym.

“Yet here you are, skulking the old hallways.”

“I didn’t skulk.” Castiel turns to her, offended.

“Unlike some people, my memory of high school is impeccable,” Meg says loftily, “You skulked in that coat with all those books in front of your face. I was always surprised you didn’t mow down more unsuspecting freshmen.”

“I -” Castiel breaks off, unable to deny any of her accusations. It’s true he wore his old trenchcoat nearly every day (in his more poetic moments, he saw it as a foil to Dean’s everpresent leather jacket) and he tried to shut everyone out by reading while walking from class to class.

“Don’t worry about it,” Meg says with an easy pat to his shoulder. “Teenagers are the worst. I thought I was so cool back then, with the boots and the bleached hair.” She shudders at the memory.

“I’m sure you were very cool,” Castiel says diplomatically.

Meg snorts. “You bet your ass I was not cool.” She tips her head over to where a group of well-dressed alums stand below the basketball hoops. “They were cool. And now look at them.” She sighs. “I would still set their extensions on fire if I could. Oh well, some things never change. Look at Victor. Talk about aging like fine wine.”

Castiel vaguely recognizes some of them from the poster outside the gym. But for the life of him, he can’t identify which one is Victor.

Meg smiles at his clueless expression. “You seriously didn’t pay attention to anything but your books?”

“I - ” Castiel breaks off, the faintest twinges of embarrassment curling in his gut. He paid attention to exactly one thing outside of his studies in high school.

Meg eyes him critically. “You’re usually chattier than this. I think you need a drink.” She steers him towards the makeshift bar on a folding table.

With newly acquired drinks, they retreat to the far end of the gym. Meg makes a game out of forcing Cas to try to name people from their class.

“I want to say, Jeremy?” Castiel guesses as Meg not-so-subtly points out a man at the end of the drinks line.

“Close,” Meg says with a smirk. “That’s Gordon Walker. He was captain of the football team.” She subtly points to a very pretty woman scrolling through her phone near Gordon.

“She looks like a Mina to me,” Castiel says critically.

Meg throws him an incredulous look. “How did nobody know you were gay in high school?”

“I’m guessing her name isn’t Mina.”

“Bela Talbot,” Meg corrects. “You don’t remember her English accent? Pretentious as fuck. Just like Principal Crowley - not that you have to deal with him any more, since you’re over at Carver, you lucky bastard.”

Crowley was one of the main reasons Castiel left Morning Star. In tightening the budget, he cracked down on students’ late lunch bills among other unacceptable measures. Crowley was not pleased when he found out Castiel regularly squirrelled away peanut butter and a loaf of bread in his desk for emergencies. 

Castiel tried to explain it was for his lunch emergencies, but Crowley wasn’t hearing any of it. Castiel was fired, and, after a harrowing year of substitute teaching, he used his family connection to get his current job at Carver Preparatory. 

“Eliot,” Castiel tries next.

“There isn’t a single Eliot in our class,” Meg says, laughing. “How can you not remember Lee Webb? He wore that stupid cowboy hat all sophomore year.”

It continues. The only person Castiel gets right is Tessa, and that’s because they had gone to the same church.

“You have to remember him,” Meg says as waves over a newcomer entering the gym.

Castiel’s mouth goes dry. Yes, he does recognize Dean Winchester. How could he forget?

Castiel might have been a friendless loner in high school with only his books for company, but he wasn’t dead. He knew who Dean Winchester was, with his leather jacket, muscle car, and stunning green eyes that would make a romantic portrait artist weep.

Castiel can recall with perfect clarity the moment he found out he’d been assigned to tutor Dean in Latin in the beginning of their senior year. A mixture of elation and dread filled his stomach before Ms. Siege had even finished speaking. He’d get to see Dean. He’d have to spend time, probably alone, with Dean Winchester. And, most terrifyingly, he’d have to open his mouth and actually say words in front of him.

When Castiel looks at Dean for the first time in ten years, he doesn’t think about when Dean would do his damndest to distract Castiel from tutoring and tease him to lighten up. Instead, Castiel remembers Dean’s flushed cheeks and grasping fingers the first time Cas made him come, and the way the Impala’s windows had fogged up, just like in the movies.

* * *

Castiel can tell the exact moment Dean spots him because he nearly trips over his feet.

“I - I need to go,” Castiel says to Meg, sheer panic flooding his veins.

“What?” she asks. “Already?”

“Bathroom,” Castiel blurts before he can think of a better excuse.

“That time of the month?” Meg asks with a faux-sympathetic frown.

Castiel doesn’t bother dignifying her question with an answer. Instead, he spins on his heel and makes for the second gym exit, the one that leads to the locker rooms instead of the rest of the school.

He breathes deep as the door closes behind him. Shivering from nerves with the close call, he takes a moment to get his bearings. Are his legs shaking?

At one of the sinks in the boy’s bathroom, he turns on the tap and pats his heated face down with a damp paper towel.

He’s such a mess, and he hasn’t even spoken to Dean yet.

What a goddamn joke. He hasn’t changed in a decade. Still running away from Dean like a coward.

Castiel has been - well, he wouldn’t say looking forward to this reunion - but he’s been mentally gearing himself up for it. Castiel promised himself, ever since he heard Dean took a teaching position at their old high school, to go to their next reunion and formally apologize.

He splashes more water on his face, grimacing as dark spots dot his tie. Somehow it’s already gotten turned around. Castiel halfheartedly fiddles with it, trying to get it to lie straight.

The door opens behind him. Castiel freezes, but it’s not Dean.

The stranger shoots him a weird look before slipping into one of the stalls.

The man’s belt unbuckles, and Castiel inwardly sighs. He can’t hide in here forever. He leaves just as the sounds of a clearly painful bowel movement start up behind him. 

Right outside the gym, he steels himself. He owes this to Dean; the worst Dean can do is make a scene, and it’s not like Castiel has any plans to ever set foot in Edlund High again, anyway. He teaches at their rival school, after all.

He’s here for Dean. He can do this and go home.

Back inside, he spots Meg without difficulty. She’s alone and tapping away on her phone.

Castiel approaches her, already bracing for a wave of uncomfortable questions. “Hello, Meg.”

“Hey,” Meg says distractedly. She squints up at him. “What was with the Houdini act?”

Castiel shifts his weight to the other foot. “Where did Dean go?”

Meg jerks her head to where their ‘popular’ classmates congregate, now with one added Dean Winchester. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

Meg places both hands on her hips. “I think you forget that as a fellow educator, I have a stellar bullshit radar.”

“It’s personal.”

“Come on, Clarence,” Meg says, the faintest note of pleading in her voice, “This reunion is boring as hell. Nobody’s gone into porn or killed anyone since we graduated. I’ve been robbed. You have to tell me, what did Dean Winchester do to you way back when?” Her eyebrows raise as she takes in his conflicted expression. “Or should I say, what did you do to him?”

Castiel sighs. He frowns at the floor. “In senior year we were… involved.”

“Involved how?” Meg asks, her eyes gleaming. “Don’t tell me he broke your heart.”

Castiel slowly shakes his head. “The other way around.”

“Holy shit,” Meg breathes, her eyes as round as the balloons festooning the walls. She sneaks a peek over at Dean, still standing with his group of old school friends. “You’re serious.”

“I never pegged you as a gossip, Meg,” Castiel says dispassionately.

“Call me desperate,” Meg says, waving his criticism away with an idle hand. “It’s either ten-year-old gossip or watch that fucking slideshow for the fifth time in a row. If you have anything else you’d rather talk about, I’m all ears.”

Castiel jumps at the opening. “I have been wondering,” he starts, “how other schools have been integrating the state board’s recommen-”

Meg interrupts him loudly, “Anything except work.” 

Castiel snaps his mouth shut with a glare.

“Come on,” Meg wheedles, “You got the class loner act locked down, but it’s not like I particularly want to see any of these people ever again.” She gestures around the gym.

“Then why come at all?” Castiel asks, honestly baffled.

Meg smirks. “Did you not hear my comment about the porn and murder?”

“If anyone did, I hardly think they’d advertise it at their class reunion.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She shoots him a pointed look. “But we’re getting off topic. You and Dean Winchester. Spill, Novak.”

Castiel sighs. “I was assigned to tutor him in Latin at the beginning of senior year.”

“Ohh,” Meg croons, “Somebody got hot for teacher?”

Castiel grimaces at the crude reduction of Dean’s feelings. “You could say that,” he says cagily.

Meg turns to look out across the gym, her dark eyes zeroing in on Dean. “I imagine your little heart wasn’t made of stone either.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Meg claps her hands delightedly. “What happened?”

“I ended things,” Castiel says hollowly. “We were about to graduate, and I had plans to go to college.”

“And he did not,” Meg surmises.

Castiel shakes his head. “He was considering community college.”

To set a good example for Sam, Dean had said. He didn’t particularly care for higher education one way or another, not like Castiel, who saw college as his one way out of their hometown, out of his family, out of everything he hated about his first 18 years of life.

But somehow Dean wound up getting his degree anyway - he must have, or he wouldn’t be teaching English at their old high school.

Castiel has so many questions, but the likelihood of getting answers from Dean dwindles smaller and smaller the longer he puts off doing the very thing he came here to do.

When Dean breaks off from the group to grab another drink, Castiel seizes his chance.

Meg lets him go with a half-mocking, half-supportive, “Go get ‘im, champ!”

Castiel flips up his middle finger over his shoulder as he takes off after Dean.

He shoves his tingling hands in his pockets, finds walking with his hands in his pockets awkward and removes them, and somehow doesn't bolt in the opposite direction. By the time he catches up to Dean, it’s hard to think through his cloud of anxiety.

He just needs to tell Dean he is sorry; Dean was right; Castiel should never have ended things between them like he did.

Dean always did like being right - that can’t have changed much over the past ten years.

Castiel waits for Dean to see him, staring hard at the side of Dean’s head until he’s noticed.

Dean’s eyes go round, and he almost drops his cup of beer. “Christ,” he says, staggering off to the side of the bar table. “Someone should put a bell on you.”

“My apologies,” Castiel says gruffly.

This is not how he would have liked to start his first conversation with Dean Winchester in ten years. Not that Castiel had expected much better - if he learned anything from their tutoring sessions and later hookups, Dean always had at least one surprise up his sleeve.

Dean inhales a deep breath. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

* * * 

Castiel swallows nervously. All that preparation at home and in the bathroom, and not a single word comes to mind.

“How, uh, how’ve you been?” Dean asks first. He takes a quick sip of his beer.

“I’ve been well,” Castiel says stiffly. “And you?”

“Can’t complain.”

The conversation is almost unbearably awkward, even for him. How in the world did Castiel get stuck making smalltalk with Dean Winchester? So much for best laid plans. 

 “I heard you teach here now,” Castiel says.

“I do,” Dean says, his eyes wandering around the gym. “English. Started this year. You?”

“Latin and French at Carver Preparatory.”

Dean’s eyebrows rise. “No shit,” he says, a bitter note to his voice. “You’re teaching those elitist assholes?”

Castiel blinks. True, he didn’t expect Dean to exactly welcome him after everything, but the deliberate antagonism is a surprise. “I wouldn’t - they’re not all assholes,” he stutters. He can’t bring himself to deny the elitism. He’s loyal, not blind.

“Hm,” Dean grunts, not giving an inch. “I hope you’re not here to sabotage anything.”

“Between Carver and Edlund?” Cas asks, baffled. “This is high school, not Soviet Russia.”

Dean tips back his beer and takes a large gulp. “Tell that to the seniors who got sued over a prank.”

“They stole five hundred dollars’ worth of Carver uniforms,” Castiel says incredulously, “for an internet fad.”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “I think you mean a meme. And it was hilarious.”

“A what?”

Dean snorts. “Never mind.” His expression closes off again. “And the seniors only borrowed them. All the uniforms were returned - no harm, no foul.”

Castiel has to put a sincere effort into not letting his disgust show on his face. The whole fiasco did not endear Castiel to anyone at Carver who called for the legal case. Even if they did not make up the majority of the faculty or parents, they had the numbers (and the money) to push it farther than it should have gone.

“The parents who paid for those uniforms definitely didn’t see it that way,” Castiel says to Dean.

“Sucks to be them,” Dean smirks, “If their biggest worry is leftover sweat from an Edlunder, better not tell them how bowling shoes or vintage clothing works.”

From Castiel’s parent-teacher conferences, he’d be surprised if any Carver parent had ever stepped foot in a bowling alley. He’s positive the Naomis and Bartholomews that make up the PTA would sooner give up their second homes than voluntarily wear a pair of bowling shoes.

Dean tosses back his drink. “Anyway, it’s not like they can’t afford to get the douchey uniforms dry cleaned.”

“I didn’t say they were right,” Castiel says carefully, “In fact, I think Carver’s reaction was completely overblown, but you probably don’t want to hear about our administration politics behind the decision.”

“Nope,” Dean says, lips popping.

After a beat, Castiel asks, “How do you like teaching here?”

“Can’t complain,” Dean says as he eyes the dregs of his beer. “Bobby - Principal Singer - retired last year, but he put in a good word for me with Principal Mills.”

“I’ve heard good things about her ideas for Edlund.”

“She’s all about finally bringing us into the digital age. She’s been talking with Charlie - do you remember her?” Dean explains, “She was in our history class junior and senior year.”

The name rings no bells for Castiel. He shakes his head.

“Really?” Dean pauses. “Red hair? Queen of the Nerds?”

Castiel gives another headshake, eyes narrowing.

Dean tries again, “You gotta remember her novelty tee shirts.”

Castiel says dryly, “I think you’re vastly overestimating how much attention I paid to our classmates.”

“But-”

“Dean,” Castiel says impatiently, “You are the only person I remember from high school.”

Dean balks for a moment, his cheeks flushing. “No way,” he says flatly. “You can’t seriously - I saw you talking to Meg Masters a while ago.”

Castiel eyes the mostly-depleted drink in Dean’s hands enviously. He doesn’t have enough alcohol to discuss his social deficiencies as an adult - or as a teenager. “We worked together briefly,” he admits, “at Morning Star.”

Dean whistles. “Well, I guess Carver is a step up from that.”

“Indeed,” Castiel agrees wryly. “I was only there a year. The administration at Carver is a nightmare, but at least they’re not sadists.”

“I haven’t heard great stuff about Morning Star,” Dean admits.

“There isn’t much good that goes on in that school,” Castiel says wearily. “Principal Crowley - well, the less said about him the better. Meg hates him. The students, though,” he swallows, “they deserve better.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “They always do.”

“Anyway,” Castiel says quickly because going down that road always makes him want to smite something - preferably Crowley’s smirking face, “I didn’t remember Meg either until she told me we went to school together.”

Dean lets out a surprised laugh. “I guess you always did have your nose in a book.” He makes a face and gestures around the gym. “Then why come to this snoozefest? The whole point is to catch up with old friends.”

“According to Meg, the point is to discover who went into pornography or to prison over the past ten years.”

Dean chuckles. “You can mark me down for ‘no’ on both counts.”

“I - I had thought so,” Castiel says awkwardly.

“Oh, so…” Dean drifts off, for once at a loss for words.

As the silence ticks on, Castiel’s reason for coming to the reunion crowds at the tip of his tongue. But he can’t make the words come out.

Dean drains his beer. He lets his gaze drift away from Castiel, lingering on someone or something over Castiel’s left shoulder. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Cas, I’ll see you ar-”

“I came here to apologize to you,” Castiel blurts.

Dean’s eyes snap to Castiel’s face. “What?”

Castiel swallows nervously. “For high school.”

“Okay,” Dean crosses his arms across his chest. “A lot of things happened in high school. Specifics would help.”

Castiel inhales a deep breath. “I’m sorry for how I handled our… relationship.”

Dean’s mouth twists, his expression darkening. “I wouldn’t call what we did a relationship.”

“Right,” Castiel says, biting his lip. “Our arrangement, then. What I did - what I did to you - it’s one of the biggest regrets of my life.”

Dean purses his lips. “What would’ve you done differently?”

“Excuse me?”

“Humor me,” Dean asks, and it doesn't sound like a suggestion. “If you could go back. Get a do-over. What would you do?” His eyes narrow. “Would you have come out? Or maybe stopped me before we got down and dirty in the Impala in the first place? ‘Cause I’ve played this game a few times, and I know which one I would’ve gone for.”

Castiel thinks it over. “Rationally,” he says,slowly, sounding the word out as he tries to put the rest of his thoughts into words, “I should have kept our interactions to our tutoring sessions.”

Dean’s jaw clenches. He nods.

Castiel can’t tell if his explanation is hurting Dean further. He feels like he’s been dumped out at sea while only knowing how to doggy paddle. Mouth dry, he barrels on, “But realistically, there’s no way that could have happened, so I probably should have asked you to wait for me.”

Dean blinks in surprise, his hardened exterior cracking the tiniest fraction. “Wait?” he echoes faintly.

“I couldn’t come out in high school,” Castiel says dully. What he wouldn’t give for another drink. “If my mother got wind of my sexuality, she would have put conditions on my college tuition without another thought, or forced me to take a gap year to do churchwork or something equally horrendous.”

Dean’s tense shoulders sag. “I didn’t know that.”

“I was ashamed,” Castiel drops his gaze to the floor, “You clearly loved your family, and your father… well, even with his flaws, he seemed to accept you. My situation was nothing like that.”

“Dad didn’t know about me either,” Dean mutters. 

“Sorry?” Castiel asks, raising his head.

“Dad didn’t know I went for dudes and chicks,” Dean explains. “But he was hardly around, so if I didn’t tell him and Sammy didn’t tell him, odds were he’d never find out.” He bites his lip as he meets Castiel’s stare head-on. “How long?”

“How long?” Castiel repeats, confused.

“How long would you have asked me to wait?” Dean asks, a hard edge to his words.

Castiel hesitates, wrong-footed at their backtracking conversation. “Until I had started my first semester at college.”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “What?”

Castiel frowns. “I had no plans to be in the closet after I moved away. My mother has too many connections here, with the junior league, the civics board, HOA, and who knows what else. But in my college town, she knew no one. I could finally be myself.”

Dean splutters nonsensically before he says, “You didn’t think to ask me to wait one measly summer for you to get your head out of your ass?”

“But I wasn’t just asking for ‘one summer’,” Castiel protests.

Dean’s outrage falters at Castiel’s air quotes.

“It would have been one summer and four years of long distance. I knew you had… feelings,” Castiel doesn’t pause at Dean’s wince at the word, “for me, but I had already taken so much from you. Are you saying you would have waited?”

“I don’t know!” Dean says, sounding slightly manic. He runs a hand through his hair distractedly, muttering to himself under his breath. 

Castiel inhales a deep breath to calm himself down. He forces himself to look Dean straight in the eye. “A part of me was looking forward to a completely fresh start, too. But, of course, I was the same as ever,” Castiel chuckles without a trace of humor, “friendless, caught up in the details, narrow-minded. It didn’t take long to realize I was only ever a different person when I was with you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, staring right back, “I had no idea.”

Castiel shrugs. “I never told you.”

“You should’ve,” Dean says shortly.

“I should have,” Castiel agrees.

Dean bites his lip, looking conflicted. His gaze flits around the gym, behind Castiel, where undoubtedly more of their classmates vie for his attention. And, that’s good, because Castiel finally said his piece. He can go home, and never think about Edlund High School or Dean Winchester again.

(Because that worked so well when he left Dean the first time.)

Castiel takes a step backwards. Personal space, he remembers. Stiffly, Castiel says, “Anyway, that’s why I came to the reunion. To see you. To tell you that. I shouldn’t keep you any long-”

“Are you single?” Dean interrupts.

Castiel’s brain takes an embarrassingly long moment to understand the question. “Yes?”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Dean asks, a strange glint in his eye.

“I do,” Castiel says truthfully. “I don’t like social engagements.”

“Some things never change,” Dean says with a small grin. He gestures to the door. “What do you say to a drive?”

Castiel blinks.

“For old time’s sake,” Dean says, with a fucking wink.

Castiel’s mouth falls open. “I - is this a joke?” His brow furrows. “Retribution for refusing to see you outside of our… trysts?”

Dean’s face goes through a multitude of expressions Castiel can barely hope to read - shock, guilt, perhaps cautious optimism? “God no,” Dean says quickly. He coughs and shifts his weight to his other foot. “Shit, I was trying to make a joke. Sorry. Not there yet.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“Look,” Dean starts, “since we’re apparently crap at asking for what we want - we’re both single,” Castiel’s eyebrows rise because this is news to him, “and this reunion is boring as hell, so I’m asking if you want to do something else instead.”

“With you?” Castiel asks because it sounds implied to him, but he can never be too sure when it comes to Dean Winchester.

Dean glares. “Yes, with me, Cas.”

Castiel chews on his lip as he tries to figure out why Dean would initiate an activity with him, apart from the obvious. As Castiel fails to come up with any sensible reason, and Dean’s foot tapping becomes audible in its intensity and speed, Castiel has to ask, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Dean throws both hands in the air. “I swear, you’re being dense on purpose. Since you need everything spelled out for you: will you go out with me, Castiel Novak?” Without waiting for an answer, Dean tacks on, “Jesus Christ, high school really never does end.” 

But he doesn’t really seem all that mad. So Castiel tells him, “Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you.”

Dean grins. He jerks his head towards the door. “Wanna go?”

“But,” Castiel waves one hand in the direction of the multitude of people behind them, “aren’t there people you’d rather talk to first?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not right now, no.”

* * *

Dean takes the steps down to the parking lot at a bit of a jog. He makes a beeline to the very familiar hulking beast, parked at least three spaces away from any other car. 

A frisson of anticipation thrums up Castiel’s spine at the sight, a dormant instinct he’d thought ten years dead. Castiel pauses outside the passenger side of the Impala and tries not to fidget as he waits for Dean to notice him. 

“Everything okay?” Dean asks as he yanks open the car door.

Castiel asks bluntly, “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Dean braces both elbows on the Impala’s roof, his face serious. “You were seventeen.”

That’s not an agreement. It’s an excuse.

“I was old enough to know what I was doing to you was wrong,” Castiel counters.

“Come on,” Dean rolls his eyes. “If there’s anything I learned from teaching, it’s that teenagers are morons. Uncle Sam allows them to go to war and vote, but I sure as shit don’t. Kids are idiots.” His mouth lifts into a tentative smile. “Even the ones with a 4.0 GPA and perfect attendance.” 

Dean taps his fingers on Impala’s roof, but he doesn’t seem impatient, more pensive. It’s a look Castiel never saw on teenage Dean. “I’m sure you were doing the best you could’ve under the circumstances. I might not have got it then, but I get it now.”

“It wasn’t perfect,” Castiel mutters as he gets in the Impala.

“Sure it wasn’t,” Dean says sardonically as he slams the door behind him and starts the engine. “It’s not like I can’t hack the old attendance records and see for myself.”

“That seems like a lot of work to make a point.”

“If you think I wouldn’t do it, you don’t know me at all,” Dean says gravely, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, I don’t doubt you’d do it,” Castiel says, “You broke into Principal Singer’s office to steal back the switchblade that you brought to school for some unfathomable reason.”

“You remember that?” Dean asks, surprised.

“Your detention derailed an entire week’s worth of tutoring,” Castiel says dryly. “We couldn’t finish Cicero in time for your exam.”

Dean chuckles. “Figures you remember that part.”

“I had also recently fingered you for the first time,” Castiel reminds him, “I was very put out about waiting a whole week to do it again.”

Dean chokes on air as they come to an abrupt stop at a red light.

“I forget very little when it comes to you,” Castiel finishes placidly.

Dean shakes his head as the light turns green. “Christ,” he says, his eyes flitting briefly to Castiel’s face before settling back on the road. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” Castiel asks. It seems they got into this whole mess precisely because Castiel refused to say exactly what he thought about Dean Winchester.

Dean opens his mouth, but no words come out. A ruddy flush crawls up his neck and face, just visible in the darkened car interior.

Castiel runs a disbelieving hand over the dash, reading the minute grooves and divots like he’s rediscovering his favorite book. “I never thought I’d be in the Impala again.” 

“You were the one who wanted to wait,” Dean rolls his eyes, “I think ten goddamn years is long enough.”

[alannah-digitalcommunities]

Week 7: Face Filters

In this week's post, I am going to divulge the reality of face filters within the social media landscape, and how filtering is associated with a digital embodiment, beauty standards and pressures ingrained in societies culture. For this week, we exemplified the effect that face filters have on ethical digital citizenship, an individual's self-worth, body image, and in some cases, how it can result in 'Digitised Dysmorphia'. In one of the readings, Coy-Dibley (2016, p. 5) addresses the reality in which digitised cultures are similar to online beauty fixation, which in most cases, woefully results in 'Digitised Dysmorphia' and surgery. 

What is Face Filtering? 

AR “face filters” — a mask-like augmented reality that adds virtual objects to an individual's face—have become wildly popular on Instagram, Snapchat, and even video calling on FaceTime. ... Often seen as play, AR face filters can provide an engaging and personal art experience. ("Face Filters for Instagram and Snapchat Are the New Frontier of Surrealist Art", 2019)

How do face filters work? 

They detect an image of a face and superimpose virtual elements onto that face via AR. As the subject turns their head or makes different facial expressions, they activate the AR experience.

“Mask Off” by Jon Han. The filter pictured removes a user’s face, revealing a new identity underneath

Popular face filtering apps: 

1. Facetune 

Facetune is a photo editing application used to edit, enhance, and retouch photos on a user’s iOS or Android device created by Lightricks. The app is often used for portrait and selfie editing. 

“The massively popular photo-editing app Facetune is driving a generation of young women to extreme and obsessive lengths to look flawless online.” ("Selfies, Surgeries And Self-Loathing: Inside The Facetune Epidemic", 2021)

Before and After example from Facetune: 

^ As you can see in the above image that on the left is a woman’s face with no filter and no makeup and on the right, her face in FaceTune with bigger lips, a smaller, straighter nose, and zero blemishes in sight.

From using the “Reshape” tool to cinch in your waist and give yourself a breast lift or even make your butt rounder, Facetune has many options to chose from to alter your appearance. It is addicting and can become an obsession for many. Some people even purchase the paid version of the app to have access to “more technical tweaks”, like individually repositioning your eyebrows and narrowing the tip of your nose. 

According to Facetune user, Sky Lane, “It can get super obsessive because the second I take a photo I feel like I need to Facetune it,” “Now I’ll be like, ‘Oh my God, I’m chubby, but I can fix that.’” ("Selfies, Surgeries And Self-Loathing: Inside The Facetune Epidemic", 2021). Facetune makes it harder for people to love themselves, but at least they can love their edited photo, right? 

Sky Lane’s Facetune image that she uploaded to Instagram: 

2.  Photoshop Fix 

Photoshop Fix is not as easy to use as some of the other apps but it’s well worth learning. It includes a large range of photo retouching tools. The Lighten tool is great for teeth whitening and you can use the Smooth tool to even out skin. (Hermans, 2021)

The Healing brush will correct spots and blemishes quickly without effort. The standout feature is the Liquify tool, which allows you to make adjustments to facial features. (Hermans, 2021)

Why do people use filters? 

Filters could prime us for biometric observation. (Rettberg 2017)

They have the potential to change self-perception on a mass scale. 

They also offer us the ability to positively explore identity through digital dis/embodiment. 

How Does Social Media Affect Beauty Standards and Mental Health?

Face filtering has been around for decades now, however with spending more time than ever on social media due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the face-tuning epidemic has only accelerated... There are only consequences to using face filters. 

The pervasiveness of these filtered and manipulated images can seriously affect a person's self-esteem. Using these beautification filters can have severe consequences; they not only make you feel bad that you are not in the real world, but can also lead to digitised dysmorphia. They affect both self-image and self-esteem.

Believe it or not, the filters that are causing the most harm are those which alter facial features such as having larger eyes, blurred skin or bigger lips. It may not sound extreme, but perversely, it can lead us to believe a false sense of reality.

https://big.assets.huffingtonpost.com/athena/files/2021/05/18/60a40b5ee4b014bd0cb1ddc0.mp4

What is Digitised Dysmorphia? 

Digitised Dysmorphia (Coy-Dibley 2016) is theory that helps us understanding the pressure placed on women to alter the digital image.  

Digitised Dysmorphia is on a spectrum with BDD, but differs for two reasons: 

- It is not a medical condition but a “socially constructed condition that is enabled by digital technology.” 

- It is not inherently negative, and there is potential for positive uses of beauty technology. 

Face Filtering and their link to Digitised Dysmorphia: 

Woefully, for those obsessed and addicted individuals who use face filtering for every one of their images, their digital selves are the only version people see of them. And unfortunately for many, they can’t distinguish between their virtual persona with their reality which is a result of body dysmorphia. Dysmorphia at the extremes defies basic human psychology with an increase in unattainable beauty standards.

From FaceTune to Surgeries: 

According to Huffpost, a teenager got her first Botox and lip fillers as a junior in college. That same year, she brought a Facetuned photo of her nose to her surgeon to turn it into a reality.

Facetune isn’t just a planning tool for people who are already considering cosmetic surgery. A study published last year by Dr. Michael Reilly revealed that “using Facetune actually instills and increases people’s desire to go under the knife”. ("Digital Appearance Manipulation Increases Consideration of Cosmetic Surgery: A Prospective Cohort Study", 2021)

YouTube video link about a teenager girl getting a nose job based on a facetuned photo of her nose: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D5ZOpLpSNW6c&psig=AOvVaw17OSXBQYTL53-RQMD1BNSR&ust=1621946791186000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CA0QjhxqFwoTCJDl9-ms4vACFQAAAAAdAAAAABAJ

Are there any positives to using Face Filters? 

Despite the dangers of face filtering, I personally believe that there are benefits concerning creativity. And I'm not the only one who agrees... According to an article, "Face Filters for Instagram and Snapchat Are the New Frontier of Surrealist Art". Jessica Herrington says, "By making AR filters, artists are creating tools. Instead of creating a singular experience, an individual with access to AR face filters is able to express, collaborate, and share multiple versions of themselves at any time. This way of producing and sharing multiple selves on such a massive scale is completely new in the history of art creation." ("Face Filters for Instagram and Snapchat Are the New Frontier of Surrealist Art", 2021). 

Examples of Face Filtering used as AR Art: 

“Badland” by Johanna Jaskowska. The filter places red lighting over the user’s eyes acting as a mask.

“Love Machine” by Marc Wakefield. The user’s face is opened to reveal a robotic skull underneath.

“Beauty 3000” by Johanna Jaskowska. The filter pictured applies a shiny, luminescent skin to a user’s face.

References: 

Selfies, Surgeries And Self-Loathing: Inside The Facetune Epidemic. (2021). Retrieved 24 May 2021, from https://www.huffpost.com/entry/facetune-selfies-surgeries-body-dysmorphia_n_60926a11e4b0b9042d989d48

Coy-Dibley, I. 2016 “Digitized Dysmorphia” of the female body: the re/disfigurement of the image, Palgrave Communications, vol. 2, 16040, Retrieved 24 May 2021, <https://doi.org/10.1057/palcomms.2016.40>.

Face Filters for Instagram and Snapchat Are the New Frontier of Surrealist Art. (2019). Retrieved 24 May 2021, from https://onezero.medium.com/the-power-of-face-filters-as-augmented-reality-art-for-the-masses-65a95fb4a577#:~:text=AR%20%E2%80%9Cface%20filters%E2%80%9D%20%E2%80%94%20a,even%20video%20calling%20on%20FaceTime.&text=Often%20seen%20as%20play%2C%20AR,engaging%20and%20personal%20art%20experience.

Hermans, J. (2021). 7 Best Photo Retouching Apps for Smartphone Portraits 2021. Retrieved 24 May 2021, from https://expertphotography.com/photo-retouching-apps/

Digital Appearance Manipulation Increases Consideration of Cosmetic Surgery: A Prospective Cohort Study. (2021). Retrieved 24 May 2021, from https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/32503384/

(2021). Retrieved 24 May 2021, from https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26469879/

[butimacommander]

I made a post a while ago about some of my favourite wlw movies, and I though I’d continue this list by sharing some more of my favourite movies, both wlw and mlm. 

The Way He Looks (2014)

This Brazilian movie is about a blind teenager who is trying to find his independence and falls for the new guy at school. This movie is so good and heartwarming and it gives us some much needed disabled lgbtq+ representation.

The Handmaiden (2016)

The whole stereotype that we can’t get a movie that’s 1, good 2, gay and 3, that has a happy ending was destroyed latest with this movie. This movie is beautiful, deep and genious and i won’t even try to explain its plot because i wouldn’t do it justice. A TW for physical, emotional and sexual abuse though.

Maurice (1987)

Maurice is one of my favourite movies of all time. It’s set in 1910s Cambridge and tells the stories of two university “friends”. Young Hugh Grant is so incredibly beautiful in this movie that I’m second guessing my sexuality. This movie was directed by James Ivory who also wrote the screenplay for the movie. James Ivory also wrote the screenplay for Call Me by Your Name 30 years later and this movie really is the Call Me by Your Name of the 80s. 

Call Me by Your Name (2017)

Is Maurice the Call Me by Your Name of the 80s, or Call Me by Your Name the Maurice of the 2010s? Anyways, if you’ve somehow managed to avoid this movie, now it’s about time to watch it. I think this movie actually lives up to the hype and even if you wouldn’t care about the plot at all, it’s so so beautiful to watch.

A Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

Speaking of beautiful movies, this is probably the most beautiful movie there is. A painter is hired to paint a picture of a woman so that the painting can be sent to a possible husband and plot twist they fall in love. This movie is all about looks and looking and about being seen. This movie will make you want to listen to classical music and move to a remote island. 

Gia (1998)

Gia is a biographical movie about one of the first supermodels Gia Marie Carangi. The movie is about her rise to stardom, her struggles with addiction and loneliness and her relationships with the people around her, most notably with her on-off girlfriend Sandy. Angelina Jolie makes one of the greatest performances of her career and this movie has an ending that will follow you for weeks. Also, Mila Kunis plays young Gia.

Pride (2014)

Pride tells the true story of a group of lesbians and gays coming together to help miners during the 1984 miners strike in the UK and forming the Lesbians & Gays Supports the Miners movement. That this is a true story is absolutely mind blowing and a testament of how two very different groups of people can come together to help each other. This movie is both extremely funny and moving as hell. 

Carol (2015)

This movie is already a wlw classic and if you didn’t love Cate Blanchett already, you will after this. Controversial opinion though, I didn’t fully understand the hype around this movie when it first came out, but it’s growing on me more and more and I do see where all the Carol fanatics are coming from.

Show me love (1998)

This Swedish movie tells the story of two teenagers, their self-discovery and relationship, and the struggles that come with being a queer teenager in the 90s. I remember watching this movie at school in Swedish class when I was 13 and honestly I don’t even remember if the actual movie was that good, but I remember how it changed my life and that’s why it deserves its place on this list.

Handsome Devil (2016)

Handsome Devil is an Irish comedy-drama and the perfect movie if you just need something nice to watch. The movie is set in an Irish all boys boarding school and tells the story of the ostracised too cool for school but then again not cool student Ned and his friendship with the school’s new star rugby player. This movie shows queer friendships and identities so well, and we get mlm room mates and a mlm teacher, and none of these people end up together. Wlw movies could never. Oh and Andrew Scott plays the teacher. 

[booksandwords]

Bad Girls by Jane Yolen & Heidi E.Y. Stemple. Illustrated by Rebecca Guay

Rating: 5/5

Age Recommendation: Tween Art Style: Hand drawn almost art nouveau Topic/ Theme: Bad and Strong women Setting: Various Historical

This review ended up being a lot longer than my usual for this style, mostly because I list all the entries. TL:DR It's a good read, I think quite whitewashed, the art is quite nice and the women are a range of "bad".

Possibly the first thing one needs to remember reading books like this that cover different periods of history, especially when it is female-centric, is that time changes all things rights, perceptions. You cannot judge these women by modern standards. Even comparing them is a bit much. As an example, Anne Boylen is largely misunderstood she was a pawn in a game she had no control over. Her and Katherine Howard both paid the price for Thomas Boylen's social climbing. But that perhaps disconnect doesn't detract from the book it does a good job of laying out a story in a way that is understandable to the intended demographic. While this is written for younger audiences I can see people off all ages enjoying it, it's a fast read. Those of us that are older may learn about a new badass woman (as I did with Moll Cutpurse and Madame Alexe Popova) or be able to see where the simplification is. None of the stories goes into detail with how much some of these women did, with some Elisabeth Báthory that is a very good thing. I'm pretty sure everyone will appreciate Rebecca Guay's art to some degree.

Each profile has a portrait of the bad girl(s), birth and death dates, their story and a comic. The comic is Jane Yolen and Heidi E. Y. Stemple as they researched the book. They are cute. But hard to read on my un-zoomable digital edition. It is worth saying that each of the portraits has the bad girls' name hidden in it somewhere. For example, Delilah's is woven in her hair, Belle Starr's is in her lasoo and Bonnie Parker's is not hidden just boldy over her head.

This section is a list of the women in the book and some comments about their write-ups.

Delilah — Damn... okay look she wasn't bad she was badass. A woman needs to use her assets. Beauty and brains.

Jezebel — I don't know enough about Jezebel to judge this one. But it is kinda gruesome in a way. Her death was just ugly.

Cleopatra — This is entry is just cleverly written given that it is covering some content that certain readers may find shocking. Like Sibling marriages and sizable age gaps and polygamy.

Salome — Not bad, just manipulated. Sorry.

Anne Boleyn — Oh Anne. I'm not going to say she didn't do some questionable things in her time but Henry is Henry.

Bloody Mary — Mary Tudor should have been referred to by her name, not her moniker. It's an interesting read though for someone who knows Tudor well. Not wrong just weird.

Elisabeth Báthory — I actually question the choice to put The Blood Countess in here. I think her slot could have been better used by an Asian woman. Only because it is too hard to write this entry in a way that makes sense for the demographic. Yes, Báthory was awful and I won't argue that.

Moll Cutpurse — I'd never heard of Moll Cutpurse. But she reminds me of another woman from much later in history. Making her living as a fence and a gang leader.

Tituba — Tituba feels a bit more like tragic figure after reading this. I think there is a lot missing.

Anne Bonney and Mary Read — This is just plain wrong or at least terribly misleading. There is an indication as to Mary's end, heavy suspicions abut Anne's. That said Anne's last words to Jack will go down in infamy. “If you would have fought like a man you need not be hang'd like a dog."

Peggy Shippen Arnold — Yawn.... I'm Australian American War of Independence mean virtually nothing to me. That said this woman was scary manipulative.

Catherine the Great — "She may have been called Catherine the Great, but she could have been called Catherine the Ruthless, for she was bever afraid to fight dirty." I mean yeah. It's hard to do Catherine the Great but this is a pretty good simplification.

Rose O'Neal Greenhow — This entry is so short, it's a Civil War setting and I'm guessing that a lot of what is missing from the story is not child friendly. Tragic death though.

Belle Starr — Belle is amazing. I respect any woman from that timeframe who can run with the men and even outdo them at times. Her love life is one of my fave parts of this story oddly, it's kinda tragic and not in detail here.

Calamity Jane — Unlike Mary Tudor, I'm happy Calamity Jane wasn't referred to as Martha Jane, I never even knew her real name. I do like how she got the Calamity moniker though.

Lizzie Borden — Of course, this starts with the rhyme and explaining how it's wrong. Lizzie appears early on as an example of we make no judgement her too.

Madame Alexe Popova — I have total respect for Madame Alexe Popova. Seriously. Women then had no choice marriage was a lifetime commitment situation be damned. That this woman eas willing to help says a lot and makes me wonder why she started. Herself, mother, sister or daughter?

Pearl Hart — I did not know only one woman ever successfully robbed a stagecoach. But is that US or globally?

Typhoid Mary — Such a tragic figure. Calling her a bad girl is just wrong. Okay, sort of. This whole entry takes on a new light in the era of covid.

Mata Hari — I like referring to her as M'Greet and actually explaining why she did what she did. I had no idea how old she was when she died.

Ma Baker — This is one of my fave entries because it shows a whole other kind of love. While most of the others show a love of self or romantic love (or slight sociopathy) this show the love of a mother for a child. Yeah, she did some bad things but it was always for her sons.

Beulah Annan and Belva Gaertner — I didn't know that Roxie and Velma are (very loosely) based on real women. Because I didn't think to look. Coldblooded bitches. Belva whom Velma is based off lived until she was 80 died in 1965. Oh and one of the best lines in the whole book a quote from Belva Gaertner... "no woman can love a man enough to kill him. They aren't worth it, because there are always plenty more."

Bonnie Parker — Why is it so many of these women have a thing for truly bad men? I get the appeal of a bad boy but not for life.

Virginia Hill — I've heard of Virginia Hill in relation to Bugsy Siegel, mobsters are something I've looked at for fun over the years (by the way Siegel... attractive man, the lady liked pretty things). But I never knew much about her not likely to lookup more but this is interesting.

It's worth saying this is not a dry book. The writing is sassy and definitely feminine. I found myself laughing at times despite the undoubtedly dark history involved, which as an older reader I know. If you are interested in more on these women I know the youtube channel Biographics has done videos on quite a few of them, the authors also leave a bibliography for readers to follow.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Alonso’s Legen-Wait for it-Dary Dating Rules

Note: Inspired by HIMYM’s Barney Stinson’a dating rules and theories as seen in these videos. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IWQF9fuQ2pA#, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xDD5nv3Phzg&t=9s, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=m9vXJ4HB2fU, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1Cg62TySYvk https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iKAHEZRJUUU&t=80s

Marzel and Alonso are basically my new brotop even though they have never met. Thanks to Lady B for looking this over, and @missnobodynobodius and @shasta627 for completely agreeing with me that Alonso = Barney and encouraging me to do all this. 

“Ah Prince Marzel, just the man I was looking for!” A floppy-banged prince who seemed to be about his age slung his arm across the sirena prince’s shoulder, nearly jostling him off his chair.

The scene was at the palace of Paraiso, one of the most luxurious and extravagant palace Marzel had ever seen his life. In fact it was the most. The walls were ceiling to floor golden emitting bright light which unfortunately blinded him everytime he glanced to his sie. This had the embarrassing effect of him tripping more so than usual when he walked.

He had been getting pretty good with his land legs and he had improved enough to play frisbee without falling on his face but he had a feeling that the royals at this year’s retreat were not seeing that progression.

“Who are you?” Marzel made an effort to smile politely but the guy was taking up too much personal space and seemed to have forgotten his greeting in favor of admiring himself in the blindingly golden dinner plates.

“Wha-yes, I’m Prince Alonso, heir to the Royal Throne of Cordoba!” The guy declared with a flourish and paused, obviously expecting some sort of recognition or perhaps applause.

Marzel looked helplessly to the other side of the table where Elena was in deep conversation with her royal wizard, Mateo and the host of the retreat, Princess Valentina and he couldn’t see his sister anywhere.

“Hi?” Marzel gave a weak wave and grimaced at his high-pitched voice, he coughed, “I mean hello.”

“Heh, you really are new to the land, aren’t you?” Prince Alonso sniffed once seeing that Marzel had nothing else to say.

Marzel was about to react defensively to his tone but Alonso leaned toward him conspiratorially, “I see that Elena hasn’t told you about me. I don’t blame her, there are so many brilliant ways to describe me and my looks and my awesome deeds, she couldn’t think of where to begin. It doesn’t matter. Now in the past, I have been accused of being a little bit self-absorbed and just a tiny teeny bit lazy. But no more. I’m turning over a new leaf. And being a new kind of man, I am helpful!”

Marzel didn’t understand why Alonso was telling him all of this so he nodded blankly and paused again seeing that Alonso was waiting for him to say something.

“Congratulations on turning over a new leaf. That’s very...mature of you.” Alonso was still staring at him expectedly and it started to dawn on Marzel what Alonso might be waiting for, “And I’m fine. I don’t need your help. Elena has already helped me.” “Yes, I’m sure Princess Elena has helped you with basic stuff like ruling and social etiquette and blah blah blah. But she hasn’t taught you about life, has she?” Alonso raised a knowing eyebrow.

“Life? I don’t need help with life. I haven’t died yet. I think I can handle it.” Marzel brushed Alonso’s arm off his shoulder.

“You’ve fallen twelve times walking down a hallway.” Alonso pointed out, putting his arm on Marzel again.

“It’s too bright here, how can anyone see?” Marzel grumbled.

“What advice I have to offer, isn’t any advice Princess Elena or anyone else can give. It is bro advice. From now on, I pledge my support to you as a bro and a wingman as you will be mine-” “I haven’t agreed to this.” Marzel protested.

“-Do you know how to get out of a date that you don’t want to be in?” Alonso abruptly asked.

“...No?” Marzel answered. Admittedly, he had never been on a date since he had been busy with royal training and the fact that anyone who dated him had to uphold the standards fitting for sirena royalty. Though there were many fish in the sea, he hadn’t found one that fit that standard yet. But he wasn’t going to admit that.

“It’s called the Lemon Law. In Cordoba, we have a law that if someone buys an item, let’s say a lemon, from a street cart and finds that it is a rotten lemon, the person can return it. Same goes for dates. This applies this to dates. A person has five minutes within the date to decide whether it continues for the rest of the night or not.” Alonso smiled smugly at his knowledge.

“Wow, that’s- I didn’t know.” “That’s why you need me.” Alonso sipped his recently poured drink.

Marzel rubbed his neck as he thought about what Alonso was proposing. It was true that he didn’t know much about land culture beyond what his mother told him from her fragmented memories. And he knew less about girls and romance in the dating world. 

He could ask Elena but it seemed that she was in the same boat as he was dating-wise, ie. no dates just the kingdom. Besides Alonso seemed to know what he was talking about and he kinda liked the idea of having a “bro” as he kept saying.

Marzel clasped hands with Alonso, “I’ll do it. Let’s be bros.”

“Yes!” Alonso crowed, “This is gonna be legen-wait for it-dary! Legendary!”

“Where are we going?” Marzel stumbled s Alonso grabbed his arm to drag him to the bar-room.

“To get you a suit. One of the most important things to attract a woman is a suit. So, let’s suit up!”

_______________________________________________________________________“Why can’t you clean the dishes? I did it yesterday.” Marisa crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Because..just because..I’m older than you!” Marzel retorted.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Marisa rolled her eyes.

As guests and royals at the retreat, technically they didn’t have to wash the dishes. But their mother said they should take this as a chance to learn about chores on land, and reminded them that she had washed dishes when she was a human. It was about honoring their heritage which they both were sure was some sort of trick because their mom had complained about their laziness in underwater chores.

Marzel considered his words before talking again. Yesterday, after confirming their “bro-lationship” with a suit fitting and celebratory drinks, Marzel had asked Alonso for advice on his problems with dating and girls, even his sister since Alonso said arguing with girls was the same with all of them, no matter the relation.

Alonso had given him the exact argument he should use and he needed to remember how it was said.

“Hmmm sounds annoying. Chores are the worst. So menial. That’s stuff for servants to do like rookie, here.” Alonso pointed to Gabe who was on the other side of the bar with Manuel.

Gabe looked over at them and glared at the arrogant prince, “I don’t do dishes, and I’m not a rookie. I’m the captain of the guard.” “I’m sure you will be soon.” Alonso waved him off.

“I am already.” Gabe corrected, stalking up to them but Alonso ignored him in favor of continuing their conversation.

“Now here’s what I would do if I were in your position. I’d come to the room and she’d leap into my arms and we make out. Her small body leaning against mine, her lips just..”

“Dude, that’s my sister!” Marzel stared at him in horror.

“I wasn’t saying what you should. Just what I would do in that situation. If I was there, we would be getting it on. Not that I would in real life, a bro never touches another bro’s sister unless she makes the first move.” “Just continue.” Gabe hissed through clenched teeth, seeing Marzel’s eye vein throb distressingly.

“Okay fine. We eat dinner and Marisa says, “Sweetie, are you gonna wash that?” Now I say or you should say, “I’m glad you bring that up, Marisa. No, and here’s why.” She gets on my lap, “I know you don’t like a dirty sink. But does that make it my job to clean it? If one day I look up on the living room ceiling and decide I want a replica of my royal portrait up there, would it be your job to paint it?

She says, “No, of course not.”

I say, “Exactly. So darling, by the same logic, if you don’t like a sink full of dirty dishes, shouldn’t it be your job to clean it?”

Then Marisa would understand the reason behind it all, and agree, “Thank you for explaining that. I get so confused.”

“You’re kidding me.” Gabe interrupted, laughing.

Marzel understood the flaws with the argument since they were arguing over whose turn it was to help the kitchen staff, not the fact that they disliked looking at a dirty dishes. However, he was on his third glass of champagne so he had a warm, giddy feeling assuring him that if he said it right, Marisa would see reason just as Alonso said she would.

“Let me finish…” Alonso looked disdainfully at Gabe, “Once I have her attention, it’s time to bring out the big guns. “Look, Marisa I love you. But with the little energy I have after the meetings, I want to shower you with love, not wash some silly dishes.”

And Marisa says, “Oh you’re right, Alonso, you’re always right. I’ll do the dishes from now on. Right after I do this.”

So then the lights dim and she turns around and dances for me. Her butt’s firm, round…”

“Are you going to hit him or should I?” Gabe asked, but Marzel was too busy envisioning an afternoon not having to help with the dishes.

The time had come.

“Marisa, I’m not doing the dishes and here’s why.”

Marisa looked at him irritability. Staring at her, Marzel lost his train of thoughts. The next part of Alonso’s vision called for her to sit on his lap and that was just gross. He remembered that Alonso had been saying his argument had to be modified since they were siblings and now all he could think of were the disgusting phrases Alonso had used followed by the even worse image of Marisa doing them.

It had made so much sense when Alonso said it last night, what was wrong?

He manfully tried to scrape out the appropriate parts of the argument to use and came up with this,“I’m not doing the dishes and here’s why. You don’t want to dishes, but it’s like if I wanted our baby pictures on the wall..I-I-I mean ceiling. All our baby pictures and family pictures painted on this ceiling. Would you do that? No I mean, first. Let me start over. It’s not job to do the dishes because.. Um I? Dance for me. Eww no. I don’t uh-”

“HUH?” Marisa stared at him as if one half become a malandro and he sprouted three more heads. Just a face of confusion and disgust.

“I-ugh” Marzel stuttered then hung his head in defeat, “I’ll do the dishes.”

_______________________________________________________________________“Are you sure you’re reading the map correctly? Give it to me. I’m an excellent navigator, I was the first one in my team to orient us to win the scavenger hunt.” Princess Valentina sighed as she and Marzel wearily walked down the side of one of Paraiso’s lush mountain ranges.

“Here,” Marzel handed it off to her miserably.

It was midnight and what started out as innocent date led to them walking on the side of the mountain for hours, and he was pretty sure it was the same side of the mountain. They weren’t even going around it, just back and forth.

He really wished he never accepted this date.

He didn’t dislike Valentina exactly, it was just that she was too..much for him. She talked so much, usually about herself, always pointing out how Paraiso was the best, best in chocolate, best in sports, best in everything.

With all her talk about how the best she was in everything, he never would have thought she would have interest in him since he wasn’t the best in walking much less second best in subjects..behind her, of course.

But Alonso had pointed out that when she entered the bar, her eyes had went straight towards him and her eyebrow raised before she quickly flounced out followed by her guard, Manuel.

That-the eye contact and eyebrow raise-was a clear sign she was interested in him, which was only confirmed a few days later when Valentina invited him to have a talk about the personal Coronado-Paraiso treaty.

“Personal Coronado-Paraiso romance!” Alonso high-fived him when Marzel told him. Marzel didn’t want that at all. It was too late to back out of the date without potentially offending her, but thankfully, Alonso gave him advice to prevent a girl friend from becoming a girlfriend.

“You see Marzel. The rules for girls are like the rules for gremlins.” “Gremlins?” Marzel never heard of such a creature and wanted to ask but Alonso plowed ahead with his advice as usual.

“Yes, gremlins. Rule number one: Never get them wet. Aka never let them shower at your place.”

Marzel thought that eliminated almost all the sirenas but then reasoned that these rules must be specific only to mortal girls.

“Rule number two: Keep them away from sunlight. Aka don’t ever see them during the day.”

Rule number three: Never feed them after midnight. Aka she doesn’t sleep over, and you don’t have breakfast.” 

“What about brunch? Is brunch cool? Marzel asked. Marisa had recently introduced him to brunch through Elena and he rather enjoyed the idea of having a snack between breakfast and lunch.

Alonso looked at him in disgust, “No. Brunch is never cool.”

In an effort to keep things platonic, Marzel requested to have the meeting at night since he never seen the moon rise in Paraiso before which Valentina eagerly grabbed on to the idea to lead up to Paraiso’s highest peak and show him the best view.

The date was not romantic in the slightest way. Valentina had kept things professional and they discussed how trade would be conducted between their two kingdoms. 

Marzel had figured this platonic nature was due to the nighttime setting just as Alonso said it would and was relieved when the meeting finished at 9 without any sentimental overtones.

It was when they left that things went downhill literally. Valetina said they must have taken a wrong turn at the waterfall or somewhere because they had been walking for three hours and there was no sign of the valley or the palace and the nighttime heat was covering them like a smothering blanket. As Princess Valentina proudly told him when he said it didn’t feel cold at all up in the mountains, “Paraiso has one of the warmest climates in the Ever realm. No one suffers from hypothermia or frostbite here.” “Just potential heatstroke” Marzel thought darkly to himself as felt sweat dripping from his forehead down the bridge of his nose.

“Marzel.” Valentina panted, fruitlessly fanning herself with her hand, “Can you hand me some of the water?”

Marzel was about to hand her the water when he remembered Alonso’s rule about not getting the girl wet.

Marzel clutched the water bottle from the picnic basket she had brought, and promptly poured it all over himself, “Sorry. Sirena, you know. I need more water to compensate for being on land for so long.”

“Oh okay.” Valentina nodded understandingly which made Marzel immediately feel bad for his lie. Her hair which had been put in her usual ponytail had frizzed out and bigger thanks to the humidity and her face seemed to have gone pale from exhaustion.

They walked for what seemed like miles but must have been a few minutes when they crashed through a brush to see the palace.

“Yes!” They cried simultaneously. They would have run to their destination, but tiredness made their feet drag oh so slowly on the manicured lawns of the Paraiso palace.

“Marzel, do we have any food left in the basket?” Valentina asked weakly.

Marzel frowned, “No.” There had been a few apples left in the basket but he had thrown them out after their meeting in compliance with the third rule of making sure she didn’t eat after midnight.

He took another good look at the princess who seemed slumped, dejected and near collapse.

“You don’t look yourself, do you want me to carry you?” Marzel approached her, gently taking hold of her shoulder.

“No I can handle it” Valentina slurred and fainted onto the grass.

Adrenaline took over Marzel’s body, tiredness forgotten, he picked the princess up in a bridal carry and raced her over to the palace’s front door where Manual opened it, gasped, grabbed Valentina out of his arms and took her to the infirmary.

Marzel paced restlessly, guilt gnawing at his stomach. Who cares if she wanted a date with him? He should have let her have the food and water! It was all his fault that this happened-

The royal physician opening the door for visitors interrupted Marzel’s guilt-ridden reverie. Manual pushed Marzel out of the doorway in his rush to get to the princess.

Manual tenderly lifted Valentina’s face towards his as she slowly opened her eyes, and smiled, “Oh Manual, I’m fine. Just a little dehydration. I’m not going to die.”

“I was so worried.” Manual murmered in a choked up voice and swept her up in a deep, full kiss.

“You’re dating?” Marzel meant to only say it in his head, but it came out in an awkward squawk.

The couple turned to him, Valentina contedly resting her head in the crook of Manual’s neck.

“Yes, we don’t like to show it off in front of everyone but we are very much in love.” Valentina answered, rubbing her nose with her guard.

“She’s my shining light, and I’m her shining knight.” Manual agreed.

“I could never lay my eyes on someone else.” Valentina mused.

But she did---wait. Marzel thought back to the bar. The guards had been behind him and Alonso. She must have sent that eye contact and eyebrow to Manual.

This whole thing had truly been a Coronando-Paraiso treaty meeting. With a groan and Marzel face-palmed himself.

_______________________________________________________________________”Do it. Do it, Naked man!” Alonso cheered as he passed by Naomi’s room.

“I will. I will. Just go already.” Marzel shoved Alonso away from the door to the room.

“What pose are you doing?” Alonso called

“Just go!” Marzel yelled at him and shut the door.

Marzel was going on his first official date, where it was certain that both people knew it was a date, with Naomi who was visiting Paraiso to pick up some diplomatic scrolls and gift Valentina with the Avaloran chocolate that Elena accidentally forgot.

Though Naomi had been hesitant of him at first, particularly after how she acted the last time she saw him, but after they played olaball together and she taught him some sail knots, he asked her out.

They agreed for it to be a friendly date. Unlikely to be serious, more like two friends hanging out with potential for kisses among other things.

Alonso had been in favor for ‘the other things’ part and urged him to do ‘The Naked Man’.

At first Marzel was hesitant but another part of him was very curious as to how it would play out especially since Naomi said this date wasn’t supposed to be serious, just fun.

And from the way Alonso put it, ‘The Naked Man’ was the best way to amp fun.

It was yet another technique Alonso had explained the night they became bros.

Alonso clinked his glass against his as he explained the brilliance of the naked man on a friendly date.

“It goes like this. You’re on a first date, you’ve had a few drinks. You go up to the room, once she leaves the room. You strip naked and wait. When she comes back, she laughs and is so charmed by your confidence and bravado, she sleeps with you. Boom!” “No way that works.” “Two out of three times. I would not lie to you mi amigo. Two out of three times. Which is why it is important to pick your pose to display your naked man in.” And so he began to display the poses.

“There’s the Superman.

The Capitan.

The ‘Oops I didn’t see you there.’

The Thinker.

The Lounge.

The Fencer.

The Gymnast who stuck the Landing.”

He had laughed at Alonso at the time just as Gabe had when he left them, shaking his head.

But now he really was going to do it.

Naomi had gone into her guest room to find the fiddle her mom had been teaching her to play while Marzel stood outside. Now he crept in and stripped and after much deliberation chose to do the ‘Capitan’ in honor of his sea roots.

Naomi entered, “Now promise you won’t laugh. I’ve been practicaack!”

“Ta-da!” Marzel showed proudly.

Naomi gasped,her face turned red and she exploded, “Oh my GOD! What is the matter with you! Get out! I can’t believe-ugh Sirenas! GET OUT!”

Marzel looked at her in horror. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why wasn’t she charmed and laughing?

He face burned as he realized how bad this situation was and how he appeared. He wanted to explain but he could clearly see this wasn’t the time for it and tried for desperation.

“Wait-I-my cloth..”

“OUT YOU CREEP! You sick son of-” Naomi yelled.

“Wait! My suit is very expensive...”

“I’m going to call the guard on you.” Naomi threw a pillow at him which he promptly grabbed to shield his private parts and ran as fast as he could to his room.

He slammed his door closed,highly embarrassed, Marzel sank to the ground with a groan, “Why did my first time have to be that third time out of three for ‘the naked man’ to fail?

_______________________________________________________________________“Ready?” Marzel asked his sister as they entered the bar-room where Alonso was flirting with the bartender.

“I got your back. You will be avenged.” Marisa intoned menacingly with an evil cackle.

“Don’t do the laugh.” Marzel shook his head.

“It’s my evil laugh.” Marisa pouted but did as he motioned and sasheyed toward Alonso in the slinky purple dress she borrowed from Elena.

“Hello” Marisa purred, exaggeratingly fluttering her eyelashes that made Marzel think she had something in her eye, “Wow. I have to admit, there’s nothing sexier than a man in a suit, and you..are sexier than most.”

Alonso did a double-take before he formed a slow smile, looking her over. “And I appreciate your appreciation, and” His lips curved to a wicked grin, “Your sexiness.”

Marzel saw that Marisa pursed her lips, a sure sign that she was trying to hold back a laugh. He cringed but the laugh never came. Instead she continued with their plan.

“Is your suit cashmere?” “Cashmere. No, this is handspun. The fibers are less than twelve microns thick.” Alonso scoffed and gulped as Marisa began to feel up his arms.

“Twelve microns.” Marisa gushed breathlessly, “I love a tiny fiber.”

“You’re in luck. Mine’s the tiniest.” Alonso bragged, “And the more you touch it. The softer it gets.” Marisa giggled and Marzel felt himself being jostled by the sudden appearence of Mateo, Elena, Gabe and Naomi.

“Is it happening? Is he falling for it?” Naomi asked eagerly.

Elena had come to yell at Marzel after his awful date with Naomi and he had confessed all the things that happened after he had followed Alonso’s advice. Elena had calmed down a little bit when she told them that, understanding where such a crazy idea came from and explained to him that while Alonso was trying to turn over a new leaf, he had a long way to go and was not the best role model to follow or a good advice-giver. 

“I realize that, trust me.” Marzel blushed sheepishly, “I just don’t get how it all worked for him and not me. How did I mess it all up?”

“Well like I said before. It’s best to be yourself. And if it makes you feel better. I don’t think those techniques would have worked for everybody, not even him. All of that is an awful way to seduce a girl. Bragging about yourself? Just sleeping with them without thinking of their feelings or being serious? He might have been just messing with you.” Marzel shrugged, “Maybe he should see how it feels to be a failure with a woman?” Elena looked at him curiously but a mischievous glint was present in her eyes, “Aren’t you bros? Bros don’t get revenge on other bros.” “This isn’t revenge. This is just a lesson. I think I need your help.” Marzel said.

Elena had been on board with getting revenge and apparently so was the rest of Team Avalor, even Naomi after she heard from whom ‘the naked man’ originated from. Marzel originally had wanted Elena to flirt with Alonso but apparently he was aware of her relationship with Mateo, and Naomi refused to do it, citing some other incident where he tried to flirt with her.

That left Marisa to do the job even though it rankled him to see Alonso acting like a lecherous guy to his sister. Marisa, on the other hand was all too excited to play the part of evil seductress. It was a little unnerving.

“Yes, shush.” Marzel motioned for them all to duck lower behind the door and the bar as they discreetly watched the action unfold.

Marisa continued to girlishly giggle, “I was actually looking for you. But there was such traffic in the ballroom. I was at the inter-sex-tion from ballroom and the dining room and I had only a few sex-onds to get in an opening in the crowd. And then people start yelling at me to move over and it totally sex-cked, but I can’t move because a man tripped on one of the tropical bird’s sex-crement.”

Alonso was breathing heavily and gulping as he listened to Marisa’s purposefully innuendo, “G-go, go on.”

“Hmm” Marisa looked him over, and did what Marzel was assuming to be her version of a sexy pout but looked more constipated, “Let’s go my room.”

Alonso nearly tripped over his feet as he and Marisa speedwalked through the halls with the rest on their heels from a safe distance.

The door was open just a crack so they all could press their ears up against it and hear the ensuing conversation.

“Alonso, you should know.When I get into bed with a man, my body becomes a machine. Fueled by desire and lust, and a singular hunger to satisfy my lover’s every carnal need.” Marisa sighed, her voice practically oozing with moans and breathiness.

“Such a shame we all have to go home tomorrow. So let’s go like it’s the last night we’ll ever see each other.” Alonso growled.

“Yes, yes. Well, good night.” Marisa walked out the door.

“Wh-What!” Alonso came rushing out behind her, “Why are you leaving? I thought your body was going to become a machine fueled by desire, lust and a singular hunger to satisfy my every carnal need?” Alonso’s voice cracked at the end.

“Yes. But no. I don’t sleep with people who think I would dance for them after agreeing to do the dishes.” Marisa raised an eyebrow in his direction, crossing her arms with a triumphant smile.

Alonso froze dumbfounded, and soon realized he was in the presence of a small crowd, all trying their best to muffle their laughter.

“Huh-I-I I’m so confused.” Alonso muttered.

Marzel took pity on him and slapped on the back, “This is called a lesson.” “For what?” Alonso shrugged Marzel’s off of him.

“The dishes. The gremlin rule. The Naked Man.” Naomi listed.

“Oh, I-okay that was good advice.” Everyone gave him a look, “I’ll admit the results that happened to Marzel were pretty funny, but I wasn’t setting him up I swear! All of that advice was from a desire to help you. We’re bros.” Alonso protested.

Marzel smiled and grabbed Alonso in a side-hug. He sounded sincere and considering what Elena had told him of his upbringing, it may have been true that all those things worked for him. If not less so because of his looks and charm and more so for being the crown prince.

“We’re bros.” Marzel confirmed, “I’m your wingman and your mine. I am just never listening to your ridiculous rules or advice on dating ever again.”

“Not even about the Hot-Crazy Scale or the Three Day Rule? The Three Day Rule is an unofficial social rule.” Alonso insisted.

“Even that.” Marzel said and so arm in arm the two bros parted ways until the next adventure. 

[helloprettybb]

drawing you in

The long Spencer x Reader is taking, well a long time. So here’s a semi-short one and I really hope the other one will be done by next week. Also, this is a high school AU because I haven’t done one in a while.

Warnings: like a curse word or two. I don’t remember how many.

Word count: 1.3k

Going into freshman year of high school, you expected to be the lowest at the totem pole. In fact, you weren’t even surprised when upperclassmen may or may not have purposely shoved you in the hallway. But what you didn’t prepare for was the sudden abandonment of your friends. Although not all of them left, the ones that stayed weren’t in any of your classes and didn’t share a lunch with you. The lack of close friends forced you to befriend some acquaintances from middle school. Luckily you knew at least one person in all of your classes, so for the first days, you clung to them to prevent yourself from acting even more awkward. 

It was fine until your Biology teacher opted for new seats. Much to your chagrin, you were moved from the only girl you knew in your class. Your teacher claimed the seating chart was generated randomly by the computer, but you mentally called bullshit because a group of boys, who you assumed were friends from the cringe-worthy handshakes and loud laughter, were grouped together in the back corner. As you watched seats being filled, you finally heard your name and sat in your assigned seat. Luckily it was in the back of the classroom because aside from the arbitrary seating chart, the teacher already got on your nerves. 

Opening a book to block everyone else out when a voice broke your concentration, “Hello. My name is Spencer Reid.” You close your book and meet eyes with a boy who looked too attractive to be a freshman. His well-groomed, brown hair and sharp clothes betrayed his youthful eyes, which screamed underclassman. 

“Hi, Spencer. I’m Y/n.” you introduce politely. Although you didn’t know everyone in your grade, you’ve never seen him before high school. You definitely would have remembered a face like that.

As if he read your mind, he informs, “I’m new. I just moved here this summer.” 

“Technically we’re all new,” you comment offhandedly, trying not to sound too bitter towards someone you just met.

“At least you have friends. I don’t even know who I’m sitting with at lunch today.” he shrugs, trying to act casual but you could see some anxiety by his fidgeting hands.

Maybe it was to spare him of another lonely lunch or the small, primal attraction you have for him, but you offered, “You can sit with me.”

“Aren’t you sitting with other people? I’m sure they wouldn’t want to sit with me.” he chuckles a little at his self-deprecating joke.

“I’ve just been sitting with people I barely know. Sitting with you wouldn’t make a difference.” you shrug, not knowing why you are trying to convince the cute boy to sit with you.

“Okay.” he gives in and smiles. He looks even prettier smiling. You didn’t know why you thought that way about someone you just met but didn’t know whether to mentally scold yourself or let it be. Luckily the teacher started lecturing which allowed you to distract yourself from him. The lesson was a review of the past years, so as you almost drifted off, you glanced over at Spencer’s paper. You watched as he sketched a rabbit. Before striking up a conversation, you checked to see if your teacher, who you inferred was a little hard-of-hearing because of the number of times it takes to get his attention.  

“That’s really good.” you compliment quietly to not draw attention from the teacher, who is still invested in the lesson. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” he repudiates nonchalantly while shading in the ears. You continue to watch him draw until the bell rings. You and Spencer leave class together and start down the hallway to the lunch room. You keep a respectful distance in the crowded hallway into a stranger shoves you into him. Due to your heavy backpack, you almost topple to the ground, but Spencer catches you before you could fall, although he couldn’t prevent the embarrassment from showing on your face. 

He lets go of you and stepping away from him slightly, you apologize meekly, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” he chuckles politely. Unable to recover, you walk in silence until you reach the cafeteria. You and Spencer find an empty table and set your belongings down. You catch a couple making out over his shoulder and instinctively cringe. Spencer sees the expression on your face and turns to see what’s behind him. 

“Did you know that one 10-second French kiss transferred 80 million germs from one partner to the other?” he asks, even though you obviously wouldn’t know that.

“It’s not even the germs that disgust me.” you scoff, thinking Spencer wouldn’t care about your rant over gross PDA. 

“No?” he asks, raising his eyebrow as if challenging you to elaborate.

“I’m fine with couples, even though most don’t even last in high school. But it’s just repulsive to me that people have the nerve to exhibit this intimate past time in front of hundreds of people. I came here for school, not to watch a bunch of horny teenagers suck on each other's lips.” you realized it became a rant and expected it to be offputting for Spencer, but instead he chuckled lightly which caused you to laugh comfortably. “And don’t even get me started on couples holding hands in the hallway. They form a slow-moving line in the hallway that prevents people from getting past. If they’re going to hold hands, at least walk briskly!”

“I agree, although you explained it more vividly.” he smiles which causes you to mirror him. “Personally, I don’t like all the germs that come along with public displays of affection. There are already so many germs in the atmosphere in a public space and sharing saliva with a person makes it even worse.” he shares a little more scientifically.

You sigh and admit, “Maybe I’m just bitter because I’ve never had anyone to do that with.”

Over the course of a couple weeks, you and Spencer grew closer by sitting with each other at lunch every day and working together in biology. You realized from the beginning the extent of Spencer’s modesty when he spouted out answers quickly all while claiming it wasn’t a big deal. Much to your dismay, you still had lingering feelings for Spencer. Although you felt like your feelings were reciprocated since he started this sweet flirting thing between the two of you.

You and Spencer find your now usual table and sit next to him. He pulls out his notebook, which you gave him when scrap paper wasn’t enough. “Did you draw anything new?” you question curiously, unable to see his notebook. What started as a polite inquiry has now transformed into an investment in his endless sketches.

“Only the most beautiful person in the world,” he replies absentmindedly. You glanced over at his paper and see a face that resembles yours too much.

“Is that supposed to be me?” you ask assuming it was part of your little game and instead of a response, Spencer just smirks as he continues to fill in your hair. You feel a slight blush forming so you joke, “It can’t be. She’s too perfect.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re perfect in my eyes.” he flirts, giving you a cocky grin.

You loved the endless flirting, but it bugged you a little that this was all for fun. Knowing what it could do to your blossoming friendship, you decided to be upfront. “Do you actually think that about me?”

Spencer softens and confesses honestly, “Of course. I’ve thought that way since the first day we met.” 

You smile the jest, “You know, if we weren’t against public displays of affection, I’d probably kiss you right now.”

He tilts his head innocently then states, “I think we can make an exception.” You laugh and give him a quick, sweet kiss on the lips. Spencer turns to his notebook and draws a heart around your portrait as you rest your head on his shoulder.

[woodenwedges]

1 through 100. Let's go! Answer em aaaalll!

Omg Kate you’re absolute mad!!! Thanks tho’ I love answering these things ❤️😁Hoo boy here we go!1. What is you middle name?Don’t have one! Neither does my brother.2. How old are you?203. When is your birthday?The 15th of may 🌸4. What is your zodiac sign?Taurus ♉️🐃5. What is your favorite color?Baby pink! 6. What’s your lucky number?Dunno about lucky number but my favorite number is 77. Do you have any pets?Yep! Two dogs.One sweet, blonde girl named Emsi (based on the danish word Emsig meaning officious)And a neurotic chihuahua named Henry. We got them both cause their owners no longer could take care of them and I love them to the moon and back ❤️8. Where are you from?Hirtshals in Denmark! I love my town to death9. How tall are you?Uuuh around like 1,65 m10. What shoe size are you?3911. How many pairs of shoes do you own?Too many.... we get a lot of free stuff so I have a lot. Probably around 10 pairs?12. What was your last dream about?The only thing I remember from my last dream was that I got a pimple on my forehead lol13. What talents do you have?I’m good at art, dancing and just performing in general and I’m getting pretty good with makeup!14. Are you psychic in any way?Nope15. Favorite song?Right now it’s brain damage and eclipse from The Dark Side of The Moonby Pink Floyd. They remind me of my mom ❤️16. Favorite movie?Don’t actually have one! But the last film I think I saw was carol and I absolutely loved it.17. Who would be your ideal partner?Just someone who’s intelligent and kind I guess! And has a similar sense of humor18. Do you want children?I do, but I’m probably never gonna birth any cause I have an illness I don’t want to risk transferring and also might be going on T soon!!19. Do you want a church wedding?I don’t really care20. Are you religious?Nah. I’m a spiritual atheist21. Have you ever been to the hospital?Only as a visitor. I’ve gone to the emergency room but I’ve never been admitted.22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?Nope23. Have you ever met any celebrities?My cousins a model who’s dating one of the Danish x-factor judges so yea.24. Baths or showers?BATHS25. What color socks are you wearing?White. I prefer just plain whites rn, but there’s was a time in my life where I always wore fun, colorful socks and never matching them26. Have you ever been famous?Lol no but a stranger did come up to me last week and told me she’s a huge fan of my work ❤️ a lot of the locals like my watercolor portraits27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?Honestly yea I do fantasize a lot about it 28. What type of music do you like?Music is a huge part of my life! My main Spotify playlist is 161 hours now and it’s all extremely diverse!The only music I don’t particularly like is blues and trap cause i find it boring. Right now I’m really into old grungy rock, punk, experimental stuff, rap and disco 💃🏼 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?Sure have! I did it countless times this summer at the beach. There’s nothing more freeing than swimming naked in the ocean 💙30. How many pillows do you sleep with?Just one, but it’s a really good one. Oh and sometimes and extra one just to cuddle 31. What position do you usually sleep in?Fetus position is my fav but I’m trying not to do that cause it’s bad for your back32. How big is your house?Pretty big. Two stories plus a garage where my friends and I hang out. And also a two bedroom annex33. What do you typically have for breakfast?Toast or oatmeal with nuts and berries34. Have you ever fired a gun?No35. Have you ever tried archery?I tried it a couple of weeks ago and it was really fun! 36. Favorite clean word?I like words like clean and crystal and chemical 37. Favorite swear word?Fuck.38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?Don’t remember. Pretty long. But I’ve started to be very careful with sleep cause my mental health REALLY depends on it39. Do you have any scars?Lots. Anything from self-harm to getting burned by a marshmallow lmao40. Have you ever had a secret ?Bitch my whole personality used to be a secret. So yea a lot41. Are you a good liar?Yup. I’m very creative and anxious so if I feel like I’ve done something I shouldn’t I immediately have a good lie ready. Also I’ve had some problems with compulsive lying whoops42. Are you a good judge of character?Nooo not really cause I always feel bad for disliking ppl so I force myself to keep an open mind. But I’ve learned to just follow my instincts a bit more43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?I’m pretty good at like southern American accents and also an American accent In Danish is so fun and cute. 44. Do you have a strong accent?It’s pretty strong. I used to fake a British accent out of embarrassment but then I started feeling pretentious so I let it go45. What is your favorite accent?I love a Colombian accent and French ofc. Also Indian and Chinese. Oh and a lot of African ones too, especially the ppl from Congo! But I love accents in general. They’re literally my go to ASMR trigger46. What is your personality type?INFP47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?My winter jacket... my mom wanted to buy me one that was new and when we finally found one that didn’t give me dysphoria I was so excited I forgot to look at the price tag... and she just bought it for me anyway.48. Can you curl your tongue?Yea and I can stick it between my tooth gap49. Are you an innie or an outie?Outie all the way50. Left or right handed?Right51. Are you scared of spiders?No, I used to have pretty severe arachnophobia but i worked through it and now I actually really love them! Also I don’t care how scared you are of them, don’t you dare kill them in front of me! That makes me so uncomfortable. Just let me know there’s a spider and I’ll get it safely outside for you 52. Favorite food?Love sushi with crab meat or fried shrimp!53. Favorite foreign food?Well probably sushi? Lol. Or anything Italian!54. Are you a clean or messy person?Super messy but I’m trying my best!55. Most used phrased?“Bid I det sure æble”. Basically “bite the bullet” in English 56. Most used word?Probably bitch. I use it in an affectionate manner towards friends lmao57. How long does it take for you to get ready?Very, very long58. Do you have much of an ego?Yea I think so59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?Suck60. Do you talk to yourself?Nope. 61. Do you sing to yourself?Yes!62. Are you a good singer?I’m decent. Think I could get good if I got a vocal coach63. Biggest Fear?Getting ridiculed, being misunderstood and being unwanted 64. Are you a gossip?I love gossip...65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?I don’t really know sry!66. Do you like long or short hair?Love all hair. I love running my fingers through long hair. I prefer short hair for me tho67. Can you name all 50 states of America?LOL NO68. Favorite school subject?I really liked art and foreign language classes69. Extrovert or Introvert?HUGE introvert!70. Have you ever been scuba diving?No but I’d love to try it!71. What makes you nervous?Public embarrassment is a big one. But racism, homophobia, transphobia and misogyny will also make me very, very nervous.72. Are you scared of the dark?Not at all73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?Depends on the mistakes? Never on like grammar and stuff like that.74. Are you ticklish?Very. I can tickle myself. But then again I am schizophrenic lol75. Have you ever started a rumor?Once in high school my friends and I started a rumor that I was “a hermaphrodite” and we kept it going for years. At first it was just to fuck with people but then I started getting like a kick from it. For some reason I loved the idea of people thinking I was intersex. Aaaand that was the start of me getting gender identity issues lol76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?I used to teach dancing lessons for kids at a local church lol does that count?77. Have you ever drank underage?Only a couple of beers. But the drinking age is here is 15 so that’s not a huge problem 78. Have you ever done drugs?a couple of times. Done ecstasy and Valium once which was really fun. And I’ve tried speed a couple of times but it has no effect on me. I also love weed if you consider that a drug 79. Who was your first real crush?Had a huge crush on a guy at my boarding school. And also a girl at the school... they became a couple and I remember wanting to die asdgsa80. How many piercings do you have?None! Had a septum once, but I never had my ears pierced as a child or anything 81. Can you roll your Rs?“Yea82. How fast can you type?Pretty fast!83. How fast can you run?I’m not a great runner but I’m getting better84. What color is your hair?Blonde85. What color is your eyes?Green86. What are you allergic to?Nothing. Tho I do get allergic reactions to extreme swifts in temperature 87. Do you keep a journal?Yup!88. What do your parents do?Both retired now but my dad used to be a fisherman and my mom ran a daycare and later worked with elderly people who suffered from dementia. 89. Do you like your age?Yea?90. What makes you angry?It takes a lot to get me angry but unnecessary hate and harassment usually gets me to tick91. Do you like your own name?I really like it actually! 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?I have but I don’t remember them... think I repressed those daydreams when I decided never to bear children :(93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?Idc94. What are you strengths?Intellectuality, kindness, curiosity, creativity and bravery. Also I get a lot of praise for being so open and aware of my mental illnesses and for fighting so fiercely to get healthy. 95. What are your weaknesses?Bad self criticism, naïvety, laziness and having trouble asking for help and taking initiative 96. How did you get your name?My brother decided it.97. Were your ancestors royalty?Pff highly doubt it98. Do you have any scars?Already answered this99. Color of your bedspread?That really popular, white IKEA one with flowers100. Color of your room?White, although I cover them up with posters, drawings and sometimes literal trash when i get psychotic cause white walls make me hallucinate like crazyThis was a fucking blast!!! Thanks Kate 😚❤️

[urbanadventureleague]

It’s over, right? 2017? Whew! What a year!

Despite the overall nature of world events, I managed to have a pretty good year. Better than the past several. So this won’t be another one of those “woe is me” posts, no. I’ll concentrate (mostly) on the positive.

JANUARY

Man, it was a very snowy and cold month for these parts. A good half of the month was filled with unrideable conditions, and I felt it. Still, I managed to get a bike overnight with friends at the end of the month to Battle Ground Lake, so all was not lost. Plus, I had a bunch of work done to the Raleigh Crested Butte.

FEBRUARY

The weather improved somewhat, but it was still wet wet wet. I rode out to Stub Stewart to cabin camp with Peter Rhodes and others. Luckily I had a dry and warm place to sleep! And despite everything, I led a cold/damp/snowy Chehalem Range Ramble (aka my most cancelled ride) and people didn’t kill me. Oh yeah, got a new fancy front wheel for the Bantam, laced around a Shutter Precision hub!

MARCH

The weather started to slouch towards spring, with (a bit) less rain and (a bit) milder temps. Coupled with the longer amount of daylight, I started to ride more. I didn’t get in a bike overnight this month, though. I did do a major trip to the Bay Area, my first one in three years. I took the train down, hitting up Sacramento on the way, and spent a couple nights in Marin at the tail end. It was fun, but the weather was wetter than I hoped. Oh well. I still got to visit Rivendell!

APRIL

April was a three-speed centric month, with the first Three Speed April Challenge happening, a Three Speed Ride on Sunday April 2, and the Tweed Ride (which I help organize) on Sunday April 9. No bike overnights, so getting behind on that, but I did see my first bike tourists of the season at the hostel, so that’s something, right?

Self-portrait at the top of the hill.

Loaded up.

A man and the Sandy River.

MAY

We got our first taste of summer weather around these parts. I got on the bike as much as I could, between planning rides for the upcoming Pedalpalooza. I didn’t go to Lake Pepin this year (after 3 in a row), but I did do some camping and touring. I went to Oxbow Regional Park for a quick overnight at the beginning of the month with my friend Stasia. And towards the end of the month, I did my first multi-day tour since the fall, a four day adventure riding out to the Coast. This one featured a mix of old and new roads, an 80 mile day (first, and really only, long day of the year), and camping at a familiar spot (Nehalem Bay) and unfamiliar (Barview Jetty.)

The Pedalpalooza art matches Michael Andersen’s outfit!

JUNE

A big–and important–month! All month was Pedalpalooza, and I organized several rides. Maybe too many–I always want to do a lot, and halfway through the month I realize that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. When will I ever learn? Also, I had a week long tour through the Columbia Gorge and into Eastern Oregon. This tour didn’t go as well as I hoped, and I rerouted the second half on the fly, but it was still fun. And most importantly, I found love in the name of Emee!

JULY

Summer in full effect, so busy that I didn’t even really blog about it here. (Sorry!) That’s why I tell ya to check out my InstaFlick feed! Anyways, I attempted to attend a seersucker social in La Conner, Washington, but ended up hanging out in Bellingham and camping in the San Juan Islands (both Shaw and Lopez) instead. And I did my second bike tour to/from the coast, this one a group joint with friends. I took the bus to Tillamook, rode to Cape Lookout State Park (my favorite coastal campground) for a night. Then we rode back to Portland via Nestucca River Road in two days.

Me at trailhead

Our camp in the AM

Alpine meadows

AUGUST

Emee and I celebrated my birthday weekend by camping at Rainbow Falls State Park outside of Chehalis, Washington, then on the coast at Cape Disappointment, and a night in a hotel in Astoria. This was the first time Emee and I camped together (verdict: we survived!) and the first time I car camped in ages. Also, I did my first backpacking trip! My friend Steve and myself hit up Indian Heaven Wilderness on the north (Washington) side of the Gorge. It was fun, and I look forward to doing more backpacking adventures.

SEPTEMBER

The biggest bummer month. Just a week after the backpacking trip, the Eagle Creek Fire started in the Gorge on Labor Day Weekend, threatening one of my most loved and cherished areas (Columbia River Gorge), and also tainting the sky with smoky haze and ash. It seemed like the whole Northwest was on fire, and I saw my plan for a grand week-long bike tour in Southern Oregon fade. And when I planned on a backup tour around the Olympic Peninsula, the much-needed rains arrived. Good for fire, bad for bike touring. All my enthusiasm for touring drained, so nothing happened in that department.

Still, I did manage to have some fun: Emee and I had a quick roadtrip out to the Central Oregon Coast on Labor Day Weekend, mostly to escape the smoke. I got to see areas I hadn’t seen in awhile. And we also spent a day in the Gorge (fire be damned) and stayed in a lovely house on Lake Cushman by Olympic National Park. I also got a quick overnight towards the end of the month to Oxbow.

OCTOBER

October was a month occupied with challenges. There was the Coffeeneuring Challenge led by Mary of Chasing Mailboxes, and I put together the second annual Three Speed October. I also led a Three Speed Ride, where Emee’s green Raleigh Sports made her debut. I also snuck in a bike camping trip with Todd B to Battle Ground Lake, both of us doing it on our three speeds. I also led a Sunset Moonrise Ride and an East Portland Cemeteries Ride, both of which were fun.

NOVEMBER

Getting busy around here! The beginning of the month saw me wrap up the Coffeeneuring Challenge. I snuck in a West Hills Hike, my first in ages. But the biggest thing to happen was a trip to the East Coast. Emee and I visited Boston, New Haven, and New York right before Thanksgiving. It was my first time being back there in ten years, and my first time flying after almost four years. It was a whirlwind of a trip, and I wish we had more time. But I’ll be back…

DECEMBER

And another busy month to wrap up the year. I started it with a cabin camping trip with Emee to Stub Stewart, her first time bike camping. It was a success! Then I tabled at Bike Craft Fair, our (usually) annual bike art/craft thing. Emee and I snuck in a quick overnight adventure to Grand Lodge in Forest Grove for Christmas night. And we wrapped up the year in Vancouver BC for New Years, bikes in tow.

**** As you can see, it was a pretty busy year filled with a lot of fun adventures on and off the bike. And I managed to camp nine out of the twelve months, though only eight of those months were by bike (and two of the bike months were cabins, which some may consider cheating, but I digress…) Now all I can hope is that 2018 will be even better…

2017 year in review It's over, right? 2017? Whew! What a year! Despite the overall nature of world events, I managed to have a pretty good year.

[mwitchipoo]

In the past few years, I’ve done portraits of famous musicians and icons, such as David Bowie, Lemmy Kilmister, Quentin Crisp, Prince, Muhammad Ali, Elizabeth Taylor, Wendy O Williams, and a few others. My focus are on those who had some sort of impact on my psyche, whether it’s small or significant.

Which brings me to Marc Bolan. My introduction to the ’70s Glam band T Rex was through covers by Bauhaus, Violent Femmes, Powerstation, Siouxsie and The Banshees, etc. Being curious, I decided to go straight to the source.

  Recently came the news that T Rex is going to be an inductee into the 2020 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Usually I don’t give a rat’s ass about who’s been included. Being part of Gen X, I should’ve been happy for Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails. Instead I’ll wait to rejoice when Kraftwerk gets in. I’m always that one person who goes against the grain.

For those who don’t know who Marc Bolan is, here goes. Marc Bolan, real name Marc Feld. His father was an Askenazi Jew, his mother English. Marc was born for the showbiz life. He first appeared as an extra on the British television show Orlando as a Mod. Age nine he was given his first guitar, and his life course was set. After being expelled from school at the age of 15, he tried modelling. It’s rumored he was bisexual, piling his trade as a ‘rent boy.’ In 1964, Marc met his first manager. The result was one of Bolan’s professional recordings. The track was in the style of U.K. teen idol Cliff Richard. Marc soon moved on to a second manager. He had changed his style, adopting a Boho-chic look. The contract was later sold to a landlord to back off back rent, in which the contract was later destroyed. In 1965, Marc signed Decca Records. It was this point Marc switched his stage name to Marc Bolan. Two Decca released singles went nowhere. In 1966, British music producer Simon Napier-Bell, met Bolan, listening to Bolan’s claims about how he was going to be a ‘big star.’ Napier-Bell was managing The Yardbirds at that point. He put Bolan in the band John’s Children, which had some success. It was short-lived, so Marc had to reconstruct his plans for stardom. Influenced by fantasy and romance, he came back with the first formation of T Rex, originally known as Tyrannosaurus Rex

Tyrannosaurus Rex gained a cult following among the U.K.’s Hippie subculture, releasing four Psychedelic-Folk-Rock albums. However, Marc wanted more. Despite charting success, percussionist Steve Peregrin Took was terminated due to drug use. Tyrannosaurus Rex then developed into T Rex, adding electric to the sound. Took was replaced with Mickey Finn on the bongos.

1970 saw the release of the rebooted formation with the self titled album T Rex. As the cliche goes, the rest is history. Marc reinvented himself yet again, setting the bar for what would be known as ‘Glam Rock.’

  The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. This also synchronized with David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. In fact, both T Rex and Bowie worked with the same music producer, American Tony Visconti and the same manager, Les Conn. Hippies were replaced with teenage fans as Marc performed on stage wearing satin and glitter. This is the iconic T Rex everyone knows. At one point T Rex was as huge as The Beatles over in his native country. T Rex did have success over in the U.S., with the top 40 hit ‘Bang A Gong’, but never as massive as they were back in the U.K. With releases such as Electric Warrior and The Slider, the band was rumored to be selling 100,000 records a day.

What’s up with these ’70s rock stars wearing pants a certain way? 

It really should be noted that Marc would probably never had the success if it wasn’t for his wife, June Ellen Child. June Child already had connections within the British music industry, and was instrumental in T Rex’s success. Finally Marc achieved the rock star status he so desired.

Marc and June on their wedding day

Marc Bolan and June Child

Marc Bolan and June Child

The wave continued to ride high, appearing in Ringo Starr’s film, Born To Boogie. After the album Tanx in 1973, the success T Rex had started to taper off. His marriage was disintegrating too. Marc found new love with American R&B singer Gloria Jones. Jones has her own interesting history. She was involved with Motown. Finding success in the U.K., she was the Queen of  the Northern Soul movement. Most importantly, Jones was the original vocalist for the song Tainted Love, later made internationally famous by ’80s New Wave band Soft Cell.

Marc and Gloria’s paths first crossed in 1969. It wasn’t until 1972, when Jones got a gig as T Rex’s backup singer.  You can guess the rest, as Jones and Bolan became romantically involved. Out of that union, Jones gave birth to their only son, Rolan Bolan in 1975. By that time, Bolan’s star was fading. He had gained a bit of weight, acquired a drug habit, and record sales slowly declined. Jones and Bolan continued to collaborate. In 1975 Jones did background vocals for the T Rex album Bolan’s Zip Gun. Unfortunately the tenth studio album did poorly, only being released in the U.K. (The American version was Light of Love, released on then new Casablanca record label) Another pairing for Jones’ 1976 album Vixen. Jones continued her tenure with T Rex with the albums Futuristic Dragon and Dandy In The Underworld.

Marc’s luck turned around in 1977, when he landed his own variety show on Granada Television. Now this synchronized with the imminent U.K. Punk movement. (The Damned opened up for T Rex on a later British tour) Marc had a few appearances from bands like The Jam and Generation X (with future ’80s New Wave superstar Billy Idol). Thin Lizzy also did a guest spot on Marc. The rest was littered with local performers, never to be heard from again. David Bowie was the most significant delegate, with a spot on the last Marc episode. Bowie was both a rival and a friend – but later proved himself to be a loyal friend as we’ll find out later.

Marc was renewed by Granada, but the next season never came to be. After celebrating on September 16, 1977, Marc and Gloria got into a car crash. Jones was the driver of the Mini 1275GT. While Jones survived, Bolan died instantly. Marc Bolan was only two weeks from his 30th birthday.

While the funeral was taking place, Gloria Jones was hospitalized in a coma. When she came to, to her horror she discovered the home she had shared with Marc had been looted dry. Further matters were complicated because Bolan never divorced from his estranged wife June Child. This meant that Bolan’s was tied up, freezing both Jones and the child she had with Bolan out. Skipping the U.K. legal inquiry over the car crash, Jones and the son returned back to Los Angles, California. Jones continued to be involved with the music industry, but destitute. This is where David Bowie comes into play. Bowie just happened to be the godfather to Rolan Bolan. Refusing to have Rolan continue suffering, Bowie stepped in providing financial assistance, paying for Rolan’s education. It was all due to Bowie’s loyalty towards friendship he shared with Marc Bolan. It wasn’t until June Child’s death in Back in the U.K., a plaque was placed where the crash occurred. For decades, the site has, become a small pilgrimage to T Rex fans.

Over the years, people have held torches in Marc’s memory. Marc On Wax was a label run by two former heads of Bolan’s fan club. Most importantly, the influence Marc and T Rex had continues. As mentioned earlier, many late ’70s/’80s Post-Punk and Alternative bands have covered many a T Rex ditty.

As for Gloria, she later co-founded with the Light of Love Foundation UK, a music school in Sierra Leone, West Africa named in honor of Marc. Called Marc Bolan School Of Music, it gives children opportunities to learn all facets of music and film. Oh, and in 2007, she did a duet with Marc Almond once on a U.K. stage performing Tainted Love.

Gloria Jones and Marc Almond on stage. 2007. 

Honestly, I don’t know why there’s hasn’t been a biopic film about Marc. If they can do one on Freddie Mercury and Elton John, surely they can do one on Marc. I digress.

Now that you’ve read more about Marc Bolan than you originally wanted to, here’s my portrait of him, just in time for his induction into the class of 2020, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Hand drawn, pen, ink and watercolor. There’s a tiny bit of sheen and glimmer with the watercolor, but I don’t think Marc would’ve minded. Here’s a little Marc in your heart.

Marc Bolan. Pen, ink, watercolor. Illustration by Michele Witchipoo. Completed March 2020. 

    Marc Bolan – T. Rex In the past few years, I've done portraits of famous musicians and icons, such as David Bowie…

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

ALRIGHT I have apparently a lot of things I’ve been tagged in (recently or otherwise) so we are gonna do one big post of those things under the cut here to save your dash (sorry if you’re mobile and the app isn’t doing a read more D:) - stating it now I’m not gonna tag anybody bc I took so long to get around to it oops

10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms things -Ami Mizuno (Sailor Moon) -Elizabeth Corday (ER) -River Song (DW) -Delilah (Firewatch) -Velma Dinkley (Scooby Doo) -Molly Grue (The Last Unicorn) -Lady Macbeth (Shakespeare) -Yang Xiao Long (RWBY) -Dana Scully (The X-Files) -Tuppence Beresford (Agatha Christie)

Writing Tag 1. How many works in progress do you currently have in progress? “Just” three - Princess and the Goblin AU, a personal project, and an original work about the world’s grumpiest immortal old lady 2. Do you/would you write fanfiction? Yes and yes :P 3. Do you prefer paper books or ebooks? Paper books to own, but for schoolwork I’d much rather use ebooks as they’re a lot easier to search through when writing a paper and needing that one quote. 4. When did you start writing? Age six! We still have the word document from 2003 where I wrote an epic tale about myself helping the Boxcar Children solve a mystery in which my mom was, for some reason, a police officer. 5. Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with? Knight! 6. Where is your favorite place to write? At home, sitting on my bed. That’s where I work best in general; I don’t do well with the distractions of public places. 7. Favorite childhood book? Oh gosh. I was a ridiculously avid reader all through childhood. I don’t know that I could pick a single one, but the Nancy Drew series had me from very early on. 8. Writing for fun or writing for publication? For fun! But in an ideal world there would also be publication in the future lol. 9. Pen and paper or computer? Computer! I used to do pencil and paper when I was in middle school/high school and filled up a few composition notebooks, but I get too easily sidetracked with pencil and paper and tend to end up doodling if I try to use it for writing nowadays. 10. Have you ever taken any writing classes? I have! I did a fiction/poetry combo the summer of 2014 which was very nice, a poetry class fall of 2015, and am currently in another poetry class. One day I’ll get to have my fiction workshopped again! :P 11. What inspires you to write? Lots of things - music, dreams, other people, daydreams...

Last sentence you wrote:

She’d thought maybe she was doing it wrong, and that was why, but she didn’t quite know how to ask.

Top 5-10 songs you listen to: 1. Fire Escape by Love, Robot 2. Cherry Tree by The National 3. I Wish I Was Your Cigarette by K.I.D. 4. Pretty Girl by Hayley Kiyoko 5. Beneath the Brine by The Family Crest

that one tag thing it didn’t have a title sorry Name: Mouse Star sign: Cancer Average hours of sleep: 5-8 depending on the day Lucky number: 7 or 27 based on numbers I like, but the OCD demands repetitions of 12 or 20 so take that as you will Last thing I googled: “panko crumbed turkey schnitzel” because I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THAT WAS AND I WANTED TO KNOW IF I COULD EAT IT Favorite fictional character: Yes I Have Lots of Those What are you wearing right now: Batman pj pants and a soft green plaid buttonup When did you start this blog: May 2013 :’) please don’t go look at my first posts I was an embarrassing child What do I mostly post: Sailor Moon, Alex Kingston, helpful art things, and lately a lot of middle-of-the-night squawking about Scooby Doo Do I get a lot of asks: on the art blog! not here though lol Why did I choose this URL: River Song + memento mori

another one that doesn’t have a title I think sorry again O N E -name: Audrey || nickname: Mouse || zodiac sign: Cancer -height: 5′2″ || orientation: ace lesbian || ethnicity: white enough to make hiding in laser tag very difficult -favorite fruit: apple || favorite season: winter -favorite book: The Last Unicorn || favorite flower: carnation? -favorite scent: vanilla || favorite animal: cat -coffee, tea, or hot cocoa? no thank you -cats or dogs? cats -dream trip: I go to an abandoned, isolated castle in the middle of a wide-open field of green. no one is around. I am wearing a soft, billowy dress. I run through the halls of the castle to echoing sea shanties. in the tallest tower of the castle I sit and fill up an entire sketchbook and it doesn’t even matter if I mess up on a couple pages because I have brought sticky notes to try that cool thing where you just slap a sticky note over the mistake and keep going. -aesthetic: old empty buildings, soft blankets, girls holding hands, scuffed up knuckles and fingertips, the pages in a sketchbook where marker has bled through in just a few spots to make it look splattered, the smell of old books, antique brass pocketwatches, cold grey skies -favorite band/artist: Anberlin -fictional character I’d date: River Song, Elizabeth Corday, Makoto Kino -Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw T W O -countries I’ve lived in: US, UK I guess now? idk does it count -favorite fandom: uhh... if we’re talking about the fandom itself then Scooby Doo, there’s so little drama and everyone is just super into these goofy kids solving mysteries, it’s great -languages you speak: English, and I’m passable enough in Spanish that I could PROBABLY survive if I were dropped in a Spanish speaking country -favorite film of 2016: I have No Concept of Time and also don’t watch that many movies. did Wonder Woman come out in 2016? that’s like the only movie I’ve been to see in theatres recently. idk I apologize -last article you read: uhh something for class, so something about Gothic feminism -last thing you bought online: a maroon sweatshirt with Scooby’s face on it. I am the coolest adult and 12yo me would be proud. -how would your friends describe you: sweet but a huge dork, very little common sense, means well -how would your enemies describe you: I am always trying my best to not make enemies so?? I don’t know?

questions Nikki asked specifically 1. You spend an entire year in another time and place for the next three years of your life. When/where do you choose and why? THESE KINDS OF QUESTIONS STRESS ME OUT because on the one hand, access to everywhere and everywhen!! BUT ON THE OTHER HAND IF I GO TOO FAR BACK INTO THE PAST I LOSE ACCESS TO THINGS LIKE MEDICINE WHICH I NEED AND POSSIBLY CONTAMINATE THE POPULATION WITH MODERN-DAY GERMS WHILE IF I GO TOO FAR INTO THE FUTURE I GET EXPOSED TO BACTERIA/VIRUSES I HAVE NO IMMUNITY AGAINST. it’s a lose/lose. so... picking close enough to not do too much damage, I’ll spend one year following Agatha Christie around sometime in the 60s, mentor my younger self in 2010, and go through all of 2014 again just so I can go see the Armory production of Macbeth. 2. Okay, be honest: do you put your laundry away immediately, or does it sit somewhere in a pile for entirely too long? IT SITS AT THE END OF MY BED FOR WEEKS YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS 3. Describe yourself as if you’re in a fic. (Scent, appearance, aura – everything & anything is game.) “She was small and mousy, in the sense that she was a bit skittish of everything and squeaked sometimes when she talked, always too quiet for the ‘real’ grownups. She stepped lightly, and tried to take up as little space as possible, and was almost a ghost for her efforts.” 4. What non-essential thing(s) do you blow the most money on? MARKERS AND BOOKS I am a simple woman with simple desires 5. Did you have extracurricular activities as a child? Any that you wish you’d done? I did ballet and cheer in elementary school for like two years, gymnastics for a bit; journalism in middle school (say hello to the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper y’all); drama in high school - I can’t say that I wish I’d done any more actually 6. You can time travel (or not) and have your portrait done by any artist. Who do you choose? I'm gonna go with El Greco simply because his “Penitent Magdalene” haunts me 7. You’re out in public. You see a cat. How do you react? point at it and say CAAAAAAAT and hope it doesn’t run away 8. What kind of weather do you thrive in, and what can you simply not do? A bit cloudy and 50-60 degrees F is ideal. I cannot abide heat. Anything above 80 degrees is repulsive. 9. Om nom nom, breakfast! What are your favorite breakfast foods? CEREAL AND WAFFLES 10. Do you like running up and/or rolling down hills? ...not particularly... I have a weird thing about heights, and inclines do not really help D:

[soradinnersready]

ALL OF THE QUESTIONS

*cracks knuckles* OKAY HERE GOES NOTHING

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

If they were down hell yeah

2. You talked to an ex today, correct?

Incorrect

3. Have you taken someone’s virginity?

No

4. Is trust a big issue for you?

It’s my biggest issue m8

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?

I don’t like anyone so no

6. What are you excited for?

For this school year to be over, and kh3

7. What happened tonight?

Nothing but I have to take a shit

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?

Not really unless it’s one of my friends and I have to baby them

9. Is confidence cute?

There’s….a thin line…. we’ll just say confidence is great

10. What is the last beverage you had?

Water……..because……that’s all I ever drink

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?

Maybe one

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?

I have like 15 pairs they’re the only jeans I wear

13. What are you gonna do on Saturday night?

We’re hosting a baby shower at my house but the mommy-to-be isn’t even going to be there

14. What are you going to spend money on next?

Who can ever tell…..probably…..food….unhealthy food

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?

No thank GOD

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?

Well…January is about that time…..prime time…..yeah I’ll be even shittier than I am now

17. Who do you feel the most comfortable talking to about anything?

For most things, ryry :)

18. The last time you felt broken?

This morning

19. Have you had sex today?

No

20. Are you starting to realize anything?

A lot of things but I’m trying to not make this whole thing depressing

21. Are you in a good mood?

I suppose so

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?

No. I have nothing against sharks they are lovely but I do not feel comfortable near any kind of sea animal even fucking minnows please don’t nibble on my toes

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?

They sure are

24. What do you want right now?

To be able to hug my internet friends, to not suffer, to go take a shit

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

Like I said this person doesn’t exist but the person/people closest to it? I’d probably be happy for them idk

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?

Half of it yes

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

If there even is someone who can’t make me laugh they’re probably a spawn of the devil because….I laugh at everything….so no

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?

Ryder saying he doesn’t dance in the car….he P E R F O R M S

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?

Every second of every day with every bone in my body

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?

My old self would say yes but….no

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

I could never

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?

Again, hypothetical person/people, no

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda pop?

Ya got me…..I am one of THOSE people

34. Listening to?

FUCK okay I’m not going to lie I am listening to She Looks So Perfect By 5sos I swear to god I’m not in a phase

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?

Um yeah we all make mistakes okay people who write in pen can fuck off

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?

I sure do he’s sitting his no life havin ass right at home playing xbox like always with respect because that is also me

37. Do you believe in love at first sight?

No way

38. Who did you last call?

Elizabeth Tudor My friend

39. Who was the last person you danced with?

This girl whom I have reserved a special place in hell for

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?

Because I felt like I had to

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?

This question has bestowed much sadness upon me, I don’t remember pls someone send some my way

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?

No

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

Shit probably

44. Do you tan in the nude?

No but when I get my own place you can bet ur ass I will

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?

Yeah he’s got some chapped ass lips

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?

No but I fell asleep WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REPLY COUGH COUGH

47. Who was the last person to call you?

Someone in Georgia????

48. Do you sing in the shower?

No but again, when I get my own place….u can bet ur ass I will

49. Do you dance in the car?

I P E R F O R M

50. Ever used a bow and arrow?

Yes and I highly recommend it’s very calming

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Other than school pictures, I was like 3

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?

Not really cheesy more like annoying but I usually don’t mind them

53. Is Christmas stressful?

If I were a good person this answer would be yes

54. Ever eat a pierogi?

What in bloody hell is that

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?

Apple but I’m not a pie eater

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

I didn’t know, but the first thing I thought of was an astronomer

57. Do you believe in ghosts?

Not exactly? Spirits maybe if that’s even what I’d call it

58. Ever had a deja-vu feeling?

Too often

59. Take a vitamin daily?

Not anymore

60. Wear slippers?

Whenever I get new ones but I always forget I have them so I just have like….10 pairs lying around

61. Wear a bath robe?

I wish I were that person

62. What do you wear to bed?

The ugliest and coziest clothes I have, in the summer no pants :)

63. First concert?

Uggggghhhhh OMGmusicfest…..the magcon days…..

64. Walmart, Target, or K-Mart?

Walmart

65. Nike or Adidas?

Nike

66. Cheetos or Fritos?

CHEETOS???? fuck fritos oh my god

67. Peanuts or sunflower seeds?

Sunflower seeds

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jb2stN7kH28

69. Ever take dance lessons?

No

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

Uhh first of all I can’t picture myself having a spouse

71. Can you curl your tongue?

Yes I can do lots of things with my tongue and I swear to god that’s not supposed to be dirty

72. Ever won a spelling bee?

I couLD HAVE IF MY DUMBASS DIDN’T SPELL CALCULATOR WRONG

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

Probably but……I can’t remember the last time

74. What is your favorite book?

Zeus Grants Stupid Wishes

75. Do you study better with or without music?

Needs to be dead fcking silent

76. Regularly burn incense?

No but it was tradition when my friend and I smoked

77. Ever been in love?

*cringes* yes

78. Who would you like to see in concert?

I don’t have the energy to answer this question

79. What was the last concert you saw?

Lol OMGmusicfest

80. Hot tea or cold tea?

No tea please

81. Tea or coffee?

Coffee

82. Favorite type of cookie?

Sugar cookies with or without the frosting, or my grandma’s cookies

83. Can you swim well?

Well…..I mean…..I can swim but I probably couldn’t do it to save my life

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

Assuming this goes with the previous question, no I can’t heh

85. Are you patient?

Yes unless I’m in a reallly bad mood

86. DJ or band at a wedding?

DJ

87. Ever won a contest?

I’ve won awards but not sure if that’s the same thing

88. Ever had plastic surgery?

No

89. Black or green olives?

No olives please yuck

90. Opinions on sex before marriage?

Nothing wrong with it

91. Best room for a fireplace?

Living room….? no lets put it in the fuckin closet

92. Do you want to get married?

No

[tumbleon]

Go well, Celia

The first time I saw Celia Mancini was on celluloid. 

Three years ago, my flatmates and I headed out in the rain to catch a screening of Margaret Gordon’s documentary about the Christchurch band Into the Void at Alice’s, a theatre in the centre of town that holds about 30 people. 

Most of the documentary consisted of the band laughing about how they drank together far more often than they made music. 

But the atmosphere changed when a clip from King Loser’s ’76 Come Back Special video jumped off the screen. A presence appeared: a femme fatale with jet black hair and red lips. She sprinted in short heels through the streets of Auckland, picking off men with whatever she had lying around: a car, a rifle, a karate chop. 

King Loser, ‘76 Come Back Special 

“Wow,” I breathed. 

Onto the next one... Still from the ‘76 Come Back Special video. Get it, Celia. 

One of the people she murdered in the video was her bandmate Chris Heazlewood. Their personalities sparked when they met in Auckland in 1992. Celia spit venom, and Chris liked it. Celia liked him, too. King Loser was born shortly afterwards. 

King Loser press shot for Flying Nun Records. Left to right: Celia Mancini, Lance Strickland, Chris Heazlewood. Not pictured: Sean O’Reilly

“That whole video was all her idea!” he cried. “She’s got a real good eye for iconography. She was like, ‘I need to be in a black vinyl catsuit, and I need to be killing everybody, and I need to die at the end.’” 

Celia was larger than life. She was also still very much alive. Unlike the actual members of Into the Void, who were somewhat useless at remembering the finer details of their history, Celia had scrapbooks full of newspaper clippings. More than 20 years after the fact, she still had everything saved, as if she always knew that someone would need it one day. She was a rock star and an archivist. My heart glowed. As disparate as our lives seemed, I could relate to her in that one small way. 

Media is often talked about as if it is some evil, homogenous lump of globalised ephemera with no real connection to anything or anyone other than capitalism and corporate profits. But in New Zealand, people step out of celluloid and cross over from the screen into everyday life all the time. You just have to know where to look, and who to find.  

At one point in the documentary, Into the Void played in a gravel lot on High Street where their practise room used to be. One kid watched from the sidewalk, his hair bouncing. An hour after the screening, Mary and I were at the darkroom, and so was he. 

“We just saw your movie,” we crooned. “Loved your scene.” 

Though Celia first became known for her presence in Christchurch bands like The Stepford 5 and The Axel Grinders in the 80s, she didn’t live in Christchurch anymore. 

(You can hear one of The Stepford 5′s songs here). 

Although King Loser was born in Auckland, the band also lived in Dunedin for a bit. Part of that history included joining Peter Gutteridge in a reformed line-up of Snapper. The New Zealand poet David Merritt referred to their triumvirate as “an axis of good and evil”.

Self-portrait of Snapper, c. 1992 by Chris Heazlewood. Left to right: Peter Gutteridge, Celia Mancini, Chris Heazlewood. Not pictured: Mike Dooley. 

Though their relationship didn’t last, they remained close friends. 

Celia always used to introduce Chris to people with the line, “And this is my guitarist, Chris Heazlewood.” Photo courtesy of Chris Heazlewood, who said: “Note proprietary position of hand on shoulder.”

Celia’s and my paths first crossed two years ago in a bar on Karangahape Road in Auckland. Though I had killed a lot of time on K Road – I had written a novel there in another life, years before moving to the South Island – I had never seen Celia before. This time around, I was doing an oral history project on Peter Gutteridge. This time, I knew who I was looking for. 

Chris Heazlewood was playing at the Audio Foundation, though I missed it (what gig finishes by ten?). Apparently, Celia appeared with a drummer and demanded that they play. Chris conceded. They smashed it. 

After the show I ended up at Verona, and Celia was there too, in a black silk dress. Her arm was in a cast. One of her front teeth was chipped. The bar was loud and crowded. She talked with a drawl, and a bit under her breath. Her words rolled together like liquid and I couldn’t make out a thing she said. After a few moments she held up her cigarette and announced: “I’ll leave you for more conversation with this one.” She nodded to me. “Scintillating.” That I understood. I broke into a smile. I had just been insulted, but I didn’t care. She was funny. 

Later that night a boy at the bar leaned in my face when he heard I was writing about Peter Gutteridge. 

“Who?” the boy spat. 

“He’s a musician,” I replied. 

“Who?” he asked again, louder.

“Uh…” I tried to think of which band to mention first.  

“I know who he is,” the boy seethed. “He was a friend of mine. Do you think he would have wanted you to write about him?” 

He hit a nerve. I almost cried. 

Celia wasn’t like that at all upon learning I wanted to write about Peter.  

“I have no questions to ask you,” she said. “I’m just grateful.” She championed the project to several of their mutual friends, and put me in touch with all of them. 

We did her oral history on a sunny winter day in Auckland in 2015. Celia didn’t have a permanent address, so we met at her friend’s flat in Grey Lynn. 

Celia wanted food: she requested a pizza with anchovies, capers, and olives. I had a rockmelon. “Bring both if you can,” Celia said. Before I left, she doubled down. “I’m not joking about the rockmelon. I am half Indian, you know.” 

When I arrived, Celia was waiting in the backyard. 

“Hi!” I said as I approached. “I’m Hannah.” 

She smiled slow. “I know.” 

I had brought along the rockmelon, but by that point it had been long forgotten. 

Oral histories ought to be recorded somewhere quiet, but Celia wanted to go find some sun. 

“Lindsay, we need your keys,” Celia announced to her friend. “Hannah’s going to borrow your car.” It came off a bit abrupt, but Lindsay didn’t seem to mind. He tossed me his keys. I also needed power; he handed me eight rechargeable batteries and told me to keep them. 

Boxes of Celia’s archives formed towers around Lindsay’s toilet. Even though she didn’t have a home, she hadn’t lost them. Her friends seemed unusually patient and generous.  

As I drove, Celia drank. 

“I'm a bit confused lately because I don’t live in Auckland,” Celia said. “I really want to be going home. I’ve been trying for two years.”

“Where’s home?” I asked.

She looked as me as if I was blind. “Dunedin!” she cried. “Always.”

We ended up on a park bench near the lake in Western Springs, where ducks were basking in the late afternoon sun. 

Celia poured whiskey into a mug from her flask. “Would you like a drink, darling?” She doled out the word darling like candy. 

“I would, but I can’t,” I protested. “I drove us here. I need to drive us home!” 

Celia’s mind moved a mile a minute. As she talked, her words started to blur again, and I struggled to separate them, just like at the bar. My replies were flat. Most of the time I managed only a generic response once she had finished. “Oh. Hm.” I wondered if she was making any sense. 

Later, when I listened back and slowed down the recording, Celia was totally lucid, and I sounded like an idiot. She would go off on three separate tangents in the middle of a sentence – but at the end of every sentence, she offered up about seven ideas. 

Much of what Celia said blasted apart the two-dimensional statements that have been repeated so many times about rock music in New Zealand, they are often passed off as truisms. One is that the scene is full of amateurs who learned by the seat of their pants. 

Celia didn’t ascribe to any of that bullshit. She loved classical music, played ragtime and honky-tonk on the piano from the age of five, and was a brass player in several orchestras as a kid. 

And then she fucking rocked.

Another one of the two-dimensional truisms was that being on stage came with no pretence. Everyone wore street clothes. 

Celia didn’t give a fuck about precedents. The world was her stage, and she was going to own it.  

Celia and her band Mother Trucker performing ‘Eric Estrada’ in 1998. 

“People turned their back on the audience,” Roy Colbert told me over coffee. “Then, here comes Celia walking the stage like it’s a runway in a nightie. People had never seen anything like it before. Jaws were on the floor.” Roy laughed.

Celia and I reminisced about Peter and purred.

“I miss his tone of voice,” she said.

“So gentle,” I agreed.

She smiled. “So sweet.”

Although our first encounter was a bit acerbic, Celia treated me like gold ever since I wrote about Peter. She said my dissertation rendered her speechless. A rarity, one of her friends mused. Don’t worry, another chimed in. I’m sure it’ll wear off soon. Her reputation remained contentious, but she also remembered my birthday. 

About a year later, word spread that King Loser had started to play together again. Shows were scheduled across the islands for September. As the dates neared, rumours rumbled through Dunedin that communication in the band had started to break down. There was talk the band might not make it.

But they did—curiosity regarding their arrival turned into cries of lament from Port Chalmers that Celia had demanded the entire stage be moved at the last minute.

Danny and Nikolai of Elan Vital had been drinking at Mou to mourn its last day before being sold; a brief sojourn to pick them along the way turned into a two-hour detour.

“Have shots with us,” they pressed.

“I’ll have a beer; I can’t have shots though,” I said. “I really want us to make this show.”

That night outside the Tunnel Hotel, the atmosphere was giddy. Nikolai leapt at Danny and pulled down his pants. Renee was draped over the fence outside the hotel in a fur coat, eyes glistening and grin demented. King Loser was back.

Chris Heazlewood passed us on the street on the way in.

I lit up. “You made it!”

“Agh,” he muttered. “Dragged that bitch all the way from the top of the North Island to the bottom of the South...”

I smiled. “Well, we’re glad you did.”

The bar was packed. There were black leather miniskirts that looked like they had been dusted off from 20 years back.

There was no sign of Celia. Sometime after midnight, the band started to play without her. Eventually Celia stalked in an oversized fur coat from stage right. Her hair was teased and piled up a mile high over a white collared shirt buttoned up her neck and a black silk tie. 

If looks could kill... Celia at The Tunnel Hotel in Port Chalmers, September 2016. Photo by Esta de Jong

Celia threw her coat behind her over a lamp. Their drummer—Lance Strickland, aka Tribal Thunder—carefully removed it.

Once they started playing, it all came together. Chris and Celia taunted one another. Lance was on point. At one point Celia almost knocked the keyboard into the audience, but Lance leapt out and caught it. Elan Vital and Death and the Maiden threw themselves into each other in front of the band, manic.

“I love you Celia!” Renee crowed. 

“Another whiskey, please, somebody?” Celia posited to the audience.  

“Somebody get her a whiskey!” Renee hollered, carrying the decibel of the request over to the bar.

“Thought she wasn’t going to make it for a minute there,” I mused to Roy Colbert, who happened to be standing in front of me.

“Don’t be fooled,” he said. “Celia wanted all eyes on her. She loved it.”

Word of King Loser quieted down a bit again after the shows.  

The following summer I moved to North East Valley, and not long after that cycled past Chris Heazlewood walking a dog along North Road.

“King Loser is playing at the Crown this Sunday afternoon,” Chris said. “So, Celia’s down obviously.”

The cover charge was only five dollars. My whole flat came; those with a bit of extra money covered for the ones who couldn’t afford it.

By the time I arrived, Connie Benson was on her last song. Afterwards, King Loser were even tighter than before. There was no false starts, no long wait. The first song came like a bullet train. Wham! Celia introduced another. Wham! Then another came straight after, without any introduction. Wham!

King Loser kill it at The Crown Hotel in Dunedin, March 5, 2017. 

“Shall we have Connie Benson come up and play our last song with us?” Celia asked before the set ended.

The crowd cheered. Connie’s eyes widened.

“Come on, Connie.” Celia started a chant. “Connie! Connie!”

Connie slowly took her guitar out of the case.

Connie glanced between Celia and Chris as the band launched into a riff. She watched Chris’ fingers and slowly started to imitate them. Lance lifted his chin at Connie, encouraging her to go faster.

Celia stopped the song after about 30 seconds. ““All right, Connie,” Celia insisted until the beast ground to a halt, it’s E, F#, A...” Celia rattled off the notes they were playing.

I melted for the girl for being put on the spot to play a song that she didn’t know. Connie didn’t seem to mind, though.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Celia asked the audience at the end. “Connie Benson!” I couldn't tell whether Celia had been trying to humiliate her, or not. Celia ran over to Connie after the set.

Celia Mancini performing a matinee King Loser show at The Crown Hotel in Dunedin, New Zealand, March 2017. Photo by Jacque Ruston. 

“Man,” my flatmate Caitlin marvelled. “What do you think she is like in person?”

“I’ve met her a few times,” I said. “I think what you see is what you get.”

Caitlin wouldn’t have to wonder for long. That weekend, Celia turned up at our flatwarming in the valley with a small entourage round midnight.

Marcus apologised on her behalf. “You know Celia,” he said. “She wanted to make an entrance.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I smiled. “Come as you are, whenever you like.”

It was a great night. Celia insulted the music, the lighting, and everyone at the party straightaway. 

“What is this?” Celia’s head swiveled. “You’re living in some student flat?”

Yes. But it has a band room... 

Caitlin tried to tell her a joke. Celia didn’t let her finish. “I’ve got a joke!” she declared. Then she forgot the ending, and cracked herself up anyway.  

Caitlin stared. “I’m laughing. Your joke is really funny.”

“Cunt!” Celia crowed. 

Caitlin put an arm on her shoulder. “Celia. I’m glad you’re here. But this is my house…”

Celia had already moved onto the record player. I tried to apologise for Celia, but Caitlin didn’t care. “Oh, I think she decided I was all right in the end.”  

“What is this music?” Celia cried. My flatmates had put on something... electronic. “Change it!” she hollered. 

I was more hesitant. “Someone wanted to hear this...”

“Put something that you like on,” Celia insisted. “You have good taste.” 

She had no knowledge of my taste, but was charming enough to get people to go along in spite of how little what was said stacked up against facts. 

At one point she sallied up next to me as I messed around on the organ in our hall. “That’s really good,” she encouraged, her eyes locked onto mine. 

Immediately after I put on some rock and roll, a boy started dancing in our lounge with a broom. 

Celia smiled. “See?” She cranked up the volume. 

“We have to keep it down,” my flatmate Icky insisted. “Noise control already came. I don’t want my stereo taken away.”

“The neighbours only called noise control because of that shithouse music you were playing before,” Celia insisted. “They didn’t like the BASS. It has to do with FREQUENCY. This is a higher frequency, it’s fine.” She cranked the volume back up on her way out to the backyard. 

Icky stared after her. “I think I’m in love.” He turned it back down once she had left. 

“This lighting is awful,” Celia mused. “Lighting can make or break a party.” We turned a few lights off. “Better,” she insisted. 

“She wasn’t that bad,” my flatmate Jenny said later on. “She wasn’t causing drama for the sake of it. Everything she was saying was about trying to make the party better.” 

Celia was still putting records on when I slithered off to bed around two in the morning. The next day my flatmates told me that she was one of the last to leave. 

Our time together was so short when compared with those who loved her and spent decades by her side. Yet as her spirit drifts from the bottom of the South Island to the top of the North Island and flies out over Cape Reinga, it feels still like I ought to share the little that I knew. If there was a legacy to carry forwards from the short time I spent with Celia, it was to engage. Celia can be channeled anytime someone moves with a certain modus operandi: Pay no mind to precedents. Focus on making the music good. Improve the party. 

I have been lucky enough to find something in New Zealand, though I can’t quite yet describe it. If all of the people who had an impact on each other’s lives all over these islands could be seen at once, it would light up the night like rich constellations in a cloudless winter sky. But as time passes, clouds are forming. The brightest lights are slowly fading, and some are disappearing altogether from sight. 

Yesterday, another soft glowing star faded from the constellations that tell the story of a time and a place. 

Go well, Celia.

Celia Mancini by Brigid Grigg-Eyley            

[withlovefromlina-blog]

Budget and Boujee

Unless you’re my mom or dad reading this you’re most likely familiar with the 2016 hit by Migos called Bad and Boujee, and have probably heard the basic definition of the expression Bad and Boujee from Urban Dictionary. If not, take a quick pause, pull up a new browser and get acquainted. 

I started today, February 5th, being back on my own again after having spent a fun filled week in Tulum with two of my Canadian friends. I also started being back on my budget! The joke of the week with my friends was when I shared with them my ambitious goal of a 100 MXN a day budget I had been working towards up until their arrival. We thought we were on the same page over our first lunch when they also said 100, but we quickly burst into laughter when we realized I was talking Mexican pesos and they were talking Canadian dollars!

Rewind to before this last year, I’d been blessed with a career that provided me with a healthy flow of dispensable income, and never really thought twice about the small luxuries I afforded myself. Needless to say my friends and I shared this same blessing/trait/bad habit.

But things have changed, and I’ve been out of the employment world for about one year now, and I’ve had to make adjustments in my lifestyle and habits. People often ask me how I am able to afford to do what I’m doing. Now as much as I didn’t worry about money, I never got myself into debt, and was still able to save along the way. 

In addition I sold a property and many of my belongings, so I have some relative wiggle room while I gallivant the world. But I have become frugal and do my very best to get by with a lot less than I used to. I like a challenge and it’s almost become a bit of a game each day to see how well I can do. Mind you, I tend to be very good at finding great deals and yummy meals so I don’t always feel like I’m missing out!

That is until…..friends who are still in the world of employment pop into town!

Then I have a hard time keeping the boujee side under wraps.

But here’s what I’ve learnt, it’s possible to bad, boujee AND on a budget!

No doubt, money can be spent easily in Tulum. From the hippie chic boutiques, to the beach front hotels, to the endless 5 star restaurants and cocktail hideaways in the jungle, you can eat, drink and shop your way through any budget without even leaving the beach strip. We definitely tried to have a balance, and stay within our pre-determined budgets, but…you can’t win ‘em all, can ya!

That being said, I found that if I kept my fridge stocked with a few basics, and didn’t over-eat the way I so frequently did back in North Amercia..budget Mexico Lina is very achievable. My Air Bnb’s come with filtered water and coffee which get me through the morning. A salad made at home for either lunch or dinner makes sure I have a good 100 MXN a day for a meal out! 

And so far in downtown Tulum these are my fav spots that are in line with the “budget” give or take a peso or two.

Burritos from the street corner down the block from the main park..yup that’s all I got for you direction wise. He’s the only one who advertises Vegan and Vegetarian! 75 MXN

Gluten free Vegan option from Burrito Amore - 120 MXN

Pizza from Il Bacaro - 200 MXN

Thai food from Thai Tulum - great pad thai - 90 MXN, Massive veggie filled spring rolls - 80 MXN

Vegan Tacos from La Hoja Verde, huge potion with a very very generous topping of guacamole - 90 MXN

Stir Fry Veggies, Tofu and Rice Noodles from Uno Japanese Noodle - 100 MXN

From the local street vendors I got mango, avocado, cucumber, lettuce, onion, zucchini, bananas, carrots, apples, limes and hibiscus flowers for about 250 MXN and this lasted me all week!

Because I did tacos so much within the first few weeks, I actually seemed to avoid most tacos here in Tulum, but there are plenty of options near the main park on Tulum Avenida and down most side streets if you are adventurous to wander a bit.

Splurgy Eats on the beach - A bit more Boujee

Rosanegra, this place was amazing from the moment we walked in. The detail in the decor, the lighting, the artwork, the bathroom experience which ended in free champagne! And the music all created a very cool vibe. We shared appy’s of salmon coconut ceviche, spicy street corn, chargrilled calamari and burrata plate with arugula, but anything here looks amazing!

Mezzanine for Thai food, only for the money bags! Pun intended, it’s the name of an appetizer. We also shared pad thai which was delicious and served in a beautiful banana leaf.

ARCA and Hartwood are other must try’s for which we had many recommendations for but unfortunately missed out on these.

We didn’t drink much alcohol in Tulum, but there are a number of places that do happy hour and two for ones so you can try and find those if you’re feeling like having a drink!

A few of my other practices when I’m on my own that tend to keep expenses down are:

Filtered water versus still or sparkling bottled

Shared colectivo, bike or walk versus taxi

Sand versus beach chair

Re-usable water bottle

Staying away from the shops! (I have zero space for anything extra so this one hasn’t proven to be too difficult yet)

Getting out and in with the sun, for safety reasons but also I find this regulates my eating habits

Making something with the local produce that feels like a treat so you’re not tempted to grab a cold beer, I am working with hibiscus flower fresh brew tea these days!

Sticking to local shops and street food (I must admit I seem to be able to stomach almost anything on my travels and some aren’t so lucky, so be easy on this one and feel it out for you!) versus restaurants. That is until I found the pizza that dreams are made of….so I had it one last time today before I move on from Tulum tomorrow!

Doing my own laundry, as long as the weather cooperates for drying!

Self taught yoga and workouts

Food and budgets aside, we rocked our colourful beach wear, bandanas, braids and bold lips! We adventured, we biked, we swam with the fish in the cenote (after a long mental battle on the part of some as the steps into the water were swarming with the fish, and these fish were the nibble your feet and body kind of fish!), and we ate fish (not the same fish although that would have made the fear factor very ironic!). 

We called the Cenote “chay-notay” because it so easily slipped off the tongue as we longed for cold Italian sodas. We got pooped on by pigeons as the crowds around us yelled reassuringly that it was good luck! We spoiled ourselves yet kept finances top of mind, and boy oh boy did we laugh. We took turns at being the voice of sanity, reason, adventure and motivation.

What I love so much about the dynamic the three of us have together is that it’s 100% real. Wacky and fun and real. We say how we feel and what we think, even if it’s not pretty, politically correct or what the other might want to hear. It’s real and it comes from a place of love. You always know where you stand, and this creates trust. We talked business ideas, furthering education and general future plans. It made me think of how lucky we are to have the space and freedom to draft the blueprints of our futures.

We nursed sun burns and all too anxious minds. We took time out’s as needed: walks on the beach, Oprah/Eckhart Tolle podcasts, and some good old Tibetan singing bowl meditation music. Of course we took selfies, and took turns getting just the right portrait shot. Which I must admit I am grateful for as I mostly have scenery shots when I travel alone! I will miss their company to say the least. But, as the sign in the magical jungle read, KEEP GOING, and this is what I’ll do. Feeling grateful and feeling the love for my Canadian friends.

For me right now financially, it’s really a mind set. As much as I want to keep a safety net ready and waiting for the next downpayment on a home, or for whatever else might lay ahead, I know money comes and money goes but time cannot be recovered. I also know (and am kindly reminded by the cheerleaders around me), I worked very hard for the past decade, and I now have the means and time to live out a dream and to truly be alive in such beautiful places. Work, and therefore more money, is definitely in the near future but for now I know I can balance between budget and and a little boujee just fine.

So if you’re looking to do Tulum on a budget, splurge a little, or do a combination of the two, just give me a holler, I’ll give you the scoop.

Just for giggles:

Rain drop,  Drop top

We did Tulum in flip flops

Rain drop, Drop top

You aint nothin without your crop top

With All the Love From Lina #badandboujee