#ok well maybe under 350!?

[soriikai]

Ahahaa..heheheee..ahahee

I'm so close. Wonder if I can get them all before I hit 300 hours?

[sanguinifex]

Standard tip is 20%. It’s polite to round up. Getting good at calculating 20% accurately while tipsy is a legit life skill on par with doing laundry. Some bars (like my local) can only take card tips in increments of 25¢. If you’re paying cash, usually the tip is “keep the change,” but if the change is less than 20% of the tab, add some extra or use your card. Likewise if the change is way more than 20%, it’s ok to only give back part of the change (like if you just had one drink, so like $3-6, but all you’ve got is a $20).

Pricing:

(As of 2022/3, in a small US city)

Bottom-shelf vodka, rum, gin, tequila, or bourbon at a liquor store: typically about $16 for a fifth (750 ml), deffo not more than $20. (BTW, a fifth is about the same size as a wine bottle.)

Bottom-shelf whiskey that isn’t bourbon: well, this basically doesn’t exist, it’s gonna be on the next shelf up bc it’s going to be shelved with the nicer but still relatively affordable bourbon. Typically around $25/fifth. This is going to be like blended canadian whiskey. Anything that’s actually Irish will be like $30, unless it’s an Irish cream, which is a liqueur (sweet, low enough ABV it might be sold in grocery stores in some jurisdictions where beer is in grocery stores), in which case it’ll probably be under $20 unless it’s Bailey’s.

Sidenote: a character who’s an alcoholic probably won’t be drinking bourbon unless they’re desperate or actually like bourbon, which has a distinctive aftertaste that triggers a shudder in most people when insufficiently diluted. They’ll probably go for vodka or gin (which is essentially a specific form of flavored vodka).

Shot bottles: typically $0.99-3.00 depending on how fancy the brand is. There’s also “flask size”/half fifths, typically 350 mL, which are usually $5-10. Both are great ways to figure out what you like if you’ve just turned 21!

Macrobrew beers (bud lite etc) typically are a dollar per can or less if bought in a large pack; at a bar, it might be up to $3-4. Anything more and you’re being ripped off and should go somewhere else. Beer at stores is typically sold as a minimum of 4 or 6 units. Aluminum cans or glass bottles; I don’t think I’ve ever seen beer in plastic. You call it a “six-pack, twelve-pack,” etc. 18 and 24 are also common, particularly with cans. Standard can size is 12 oz; a 16 oz can is called a tallboy. However, the standard pour at a bar is 16 oz.

Craft beer is usually packaged in cans; this is cheaper for smaller breweries and cuts down on costs and breakage. You won’t usually find it at stores in larger than a 6-pack. Expect to pay up to $3-4/can at stores and at least $4.50 for the less expensive cans at bars; drafts will typically run $7 or more. And it’s worth it, too. The flavor is way better and you’re paying for high-quality customer service. IPAs and stouts tend to be more expensive than other varieties, but it also depends on the brand. Ciders tend to be on the less expensive side. (They also tend to be sweet rather than dry, which makes them great for people under 25, but I wish my local would make a super dry, hopped cider someday.)

Bars tend to separate themselves into “beer bars” and “liquor bars.” In many jurisdictions, the licensing and mandatory closing times are actually different! Most mixed drink bars will have a couple beers on tap, and most beer bars will have some canned cocktails (or ciders that taste like canned cocktails; the license distinctions are about the ABV available), but those are to keep the gf/bf who “doesn’t like beer” or “doesn’t like mixed drinks” happy.

Mixed drink/liquor bars tend to be dimly lit and don’t have much signage; maybe a small board for the specials but that’s it. You’re expected to know what you want and be able to tell the bartender what you want. James Bond, with his martinis, would be at home here. When in doubt, a vodka cranberry or a screwdriver (vodka orange juice) is always a safe choice, as is a margarita (tequila limeade). Not all bars will have pickle juice, but vodka pickle juice (with or without a dash of hot sauce) is a great option if sugar isn’t your thing. It’s even better if they’ve got pepper infused vodka, but that’s really a thing to make at home with cheap vodka and dried peppers (and whole black peppercorns, Sichuan peppercorn, bay leaf, and optionally juniper berries). It’s also great for bloody maries.

Beer bars typically have more lighting, 12-24 beers on tap (most or all will be craft beers), probably a cooler with a couple dozen more varieties in cans, and a chalkboard with the tap selections listed by tap number, price, ABV, name, and style. It’s acceptable to ask for a taste before you order, as long as you do actually order something! It’s also acceptable to order a half pour, for example if something tastes amazing but it’s high enough in sugar or alcohol that it’d be a bad day to drink an entire pint of it. Beers that are higher in alcohol may be poured in “chalices,” which are 10-oz stemmed glasses that look like squished wine glasses. The board will say whether a beer is a chalice pour. (A half pour for a pint might also be served in a chalice if the bar is out of clean half glasses or doesn’t stock them.) A half pour for a chalice is a flight glass. A “flight” is 3-5 (depending on the bar) small glasses of assorted beers, which is great for trying new things or for having a “chaser” for a really intense beer or mead. It’s usually fine to split a flight with a buddy. Price will vary based on the number of glasses in the flight, but will usually be a little bit more per ounce than a full pour.

Beer styles is a whole other post. Also, a wine expert is called a sommelier; a beer expert is called a cicerone.

Unlike at restaurants, at bars, the customer is not always right. They legally can’t serve you if you’re too drunk or high. Typically what will happen is the bartender will ask if you want a water, which is usually either free or like $1 (unless it’s a fancy brand of water; most bars will have whatever was cheapest at Sam’s Club as default), and then if you get drunker than that, they’ll cut you off (stop serving you alcohol) for either the next hour or for the rest of the night. If you start a fight or trash the bathroom or something, you’ll probably get banned from the bar. Also, unless they know you pretty well, they’ll probably take your credit card and keep it by the register; if you forget to pay, they can legally charge you your tab + 20% without you signing for it.

If a bar also serves food (other than like chips), you typically can’t bring outside food in (unless maybe if you have super bad food allergies). Food requires an extra license so some bars don’t have any food. In that case, it’s usually OK to order pizza or Doordash, though it’s polite to give the bartender a slice or one of your chicken nuggets or w/e in addition to the regular tip, especially if you know them well. Also, ask first before you order outside food. Don’t bring outside alcohol, though usually water or like gatorade is fine.

Salty food and gatorade help prevent hangovers.

Ok this is too long I’m gonna stop

Alcohol tips for newbie writers (or non drinkers!):

At bars, people who order “chasers” after their shots are ordering something to wash down the taste of their shot with. This can be juice, soda, more alcohol, or even pickle juice

Hard liquor is generally sold in stores as shots (tiny bottles), fifths, liters, and handles or in ml (50, 100, 200 etc)

Most people can’t finish an entire fifth of hard liquor (vodka, etc) on their own without being very ill

Conversely, many people can finish an entire bottle of wine on their own without being ill

Liquor can be “bottom shelf” or “rail” or “well” – all synonyms for the cheapest version of alcohol a bartender has. Bars generally keep several “levels” of alcohol stocked

You order a drink with the alcohol first, then the mix – e.g., a “vodka soda” or a “Tito’s and tonic”

When you “close out a tab”, you pay for all of the drinks you’ve had that night. Either the bartender already has your card (you “opened a tab” earlier) or it was quiet enough that they just kept an eye on you and tallied your bill up at the end

“Doubles” are drinks or shots with double the standard pour of alcohol

In the US, most shots (pours) are 1.5 oz by default. 

Mixed drinks (gin and tonic, vodka lemonade, cosmos, etc) are generally made up of 1-2 shots and a mixer 

If you don’t specify which type of alcohol you’d like in a mixed drink (vodka cranberry, for example) the bartender will put whatever the “house” liquor is – and this depends entirely on the establishment. A dive bar will pour rail by default, whereas a nicer tavern might make all vodka cranberries with Tito’s

PLEASE TIP YOUR BARTENDERS THEY WILL REMEMBER YOU I PROMISE

[stevestonbike]

8 minute hill.

I have been feeling pretty good. Not quite in full summer shape, but getting close. I felt is was time to try 8 minute hill. That is the hill I figure I am in decent shape if I can clear it in 8 minutes or less. My best time was pretty damn good about 3 years ago. I was under 7 minutes.

When I am doing a "try" I ride right out to the hill directly at a modest pace. Then I head to the base of the hill on 4rth Ave in Vancouver. It is about 2km long and 88 m high. Just a bump to real cyclists.

This time I had to start from a stop at a red light as I usually have a running start. But traffic is traffic. The two lights in the middle cooperated and I was able to get through OK. My time was 8:02. So Damn Close! I felt adequate, but not as strong as I have been before. That is consistent. What it means is I am capable of doing a north shore mountain climb, but that is all. I will make it. I have work still to do.

One year I actually caught and passed a few people on that hill. One had a high end bike and fancy team kit. Another had a utility bike with a big box on front holding a dog. I guess that one does not really count. I was showing over 300 Watts that day, peaking around 350 for bits. Usually it is more like 250. Watts the difference?

In other news the HUNT wheels are working. The ride is less cushy, but I can coast at a few kph downhill better. So Aero helps. I put Pirelli tires on and they work fine too. Holding pressure very well. I check every ride until I get a better feel for that. I can try tubeless, but I think that is not happening for a while if ever. I have heard bad things about tubeless for heavies like me.

I did find that the rear cassette was off a bit. I could not get the biggest cog. When I got home I checked the other wheel and there was a black spacer ring hiding on the free wheel. I swapped it in and adjusted the derailleur a bit and we are now good. I got the stump puller back. I usually only need it in the direst circumstances. 8 minute hill aint that usually.

It was a shorter ride at 54km. My FFF was 5.02 which is damn good for a day with some hills in it. I am just 97 km shy of last years May distance. I will do about 68 during the week with my YVR loops. So a modest club ride will cover that off. Of course everything is relative my 5 year running average is a couple hundred more than that.

Over the week I had one strange experience. I was out at Iona Park by VYR and this old guy pulls up and starts gabbing. Just that talk talk talk. He was thin. He was very grey, wrinkled and had a definite hunch to his back. Now cyclists are not known for good posture, but this looked permanent. He was going on about how he just got his racing license back and was going to race CAT 5 once he had a few more months of training. He had quit at 60 for a bit and missed the cut and thrust of criterion racing. (that is really rough and is like rugby on bikes) Maybe he landed on his head a few too many times.

The part that struck me is this. He looked old. If I had to say he had a couple decades on me and good for him for getting out! He said he was 68. This was two days before my 68th birthday! I actually shuddered. I guess I age slower than most people, but this was weird. My fitness app tells me I am in my mid 40s by fitness level. Most people think I am in my 50s. I'll take that. But this guy was my age and looked so old!

End games suck.

Keep the rubber side down droogs.

[pilferingapples]

So we know the Brick is... well, a Brick, but how long is each volume in it? And dividing further, how long is each individual book?

ooh ok ok let's do this! Les Mis By The Numbers! Tome, Book, Chapter, pagecount*! Tome 1, (Fantine): 8 Books, 70 chapters, 298 pages Tome 2 (Cosette) 8 books, 81 chapters, 271 pages Tome 3 (Marius) 8 Books, 76 Chapters, 241 pgs Tome 4 (Saint Denis & Rue Plumet) 15 Books, 76 chapters, 350 pg Tome 5 ,Jean Valjean 9 Books, 67 Chapters, 295 pages

okay okay okay but checking this out I realized something really interesting? at least to me and maybe to you!! Because there is sort of a Twist in those last two Tomes!!

So looking at these numbers on their own , right, we can see most of the Tomes are around the same length-- somewhere in the neighborhood of 250-300 pages. Except for Tome 4, which is a solid 350 pages long (making the barricade Tome the biggest single chunk of the book).

But!!!!

Tome 4 doesn't contain the entire barricade sequence! A really hefty block of that-- 24 chapters! about 86 pages!-- makes up the first Book of Tome V.

And that is structurally bizarre for this novel!

Every other Tome starts off with something that is generally agreed to count as The Digressions-- the Bishop's life, The Year 1817 (when it was 1817), Waterloo, A Few Pages of History. These are certainly not All The Digressions, but they are all among The Digressions. Every time! Every time until Tome V, Hugo starts us off with a chunk of theme/context chapters!

But Tome V starts off with extremely action happening! The War Between Four Walls! Major character death all over! Valjean frees Javert and that is barely 2 chapters out of that 24-chapter chunk! We don't get Leviathan--the Sewer Digression, the Tome's Intro Digression-- for 24 chapters! Why!

Well if you look at those first 3 Tomes , they are all 8 Books long. Nice, neat, regular. But also! EIGHT. Some people at least theorize that Hugo had his own concept of Numerology going on (in LM and tbh probably in general). In that setup, 8 is a Bad Number. 9 is fine, 7 seems to be ok, but 8 is..unfortunate. And so are its multiples, although maybe less so.

Splitting off that last Book from Tome 4 and giving it Tome 5 breaks them both away from the cursed 8. Instead of two tomes with 16 Books and 8 books, now there's a Tome with 15 Books and a Tome with 9.

Which means things are getting better. Even while dearly loved characters are dying and revolutions are getting buried and families are falling apart under the weight of secrets. The numbers themselves tell us that these chapters may not be happy, but they're no longer cursed , or fated to just keep repeating the same bad things. The barricade breaks the miserable stasis of 8s and it stays broken by Valjean.

there is probably a lot more to interpret about this but this is a long post already- but I'm so happy you prompted me to finally do this math!

*Note: while Tome/Book/Chapter numbers are solid across any unabridged adaptation, the page numbers of course are going to vary from edition to edition. I've used the FMA translation, 2013 edition to do the page counts. As for book/chapter counts, I'm using the index of the hapgood translation, here.

[person-with-multiple-interests]

Tomorrow Hill chapter 2 part one

A scream that was of sheer terror filled the house and immediately woke up Bump from his sleep. He knew he had to get to the basement quickly. Sure it was 2:30 am in the morning but he didn’t care he had to help that kid, rushing down the stairs as fast as he could go. Bump made his way to the door leading into the basement and practically bolted down the stairs to the basement his mind going a hundred miles a second as parental instincts were kicking in.

He found Hunter in bed although to say that he was fine would be basically neglecting to notice how much he was suffering. Hunter was shaking like a leaf, breath’s coming out in short and uneven bursts as tears were streaming down his face. Bump knew what this was. It’s a night terror. Bump pulled Hunter close to him so he could keep Hunter grounded.

“Hunter, Hunter it’s okay, your okay.”

Hunter was still breathing unevenly at this point he was hyperventilating. He was still shaking and it didn’t help the fact that he was having a night terror. Still, Bump in all his years of fostering kids and all the night terrors he helped kids through he never saw one like this. This night terror is on the borderline of panic attacks. Well time to use this trick again hope it’ll work with Hunter.

“Shhh…shhh….I’m here, I’m here.”

“Come along with me

And the butterflies and bees

We can wander through the forest

And do so as we please

Come along with me

To a cliff under a tree

Where we can gaze upon the water

As an everlasting dream.”

Hunter’s tremors started to die down a bit, his breathing was still uneven but he was trying to take deep breath’s only being interrupted by a cough or him clearing his throat, and those loud sobs started turning into pained whimpers. Bump took notice and continued singing that lullaby.

“All of my collections

I’ll share them all with you

Maybe by next summer

We won’t have changed our tune

We’ll still want to be

With the butterflies and bees

Making up new numbers

And living so merrily.”

The tremors had completely disappeared at this point Hunter was still whimpering but it was lesser than before, and he finally got back control over his breathing. Bump knowing that his job is done for now decides to give him a kiss on the head and whisper a soft good night to Hunter before tucking him in again.

Hunter woke up, he was already mentally preparing himself to go out in public and long story short he wasn’t looking forward to that. Walking up the steps he opens the door to see Bump seemingly waiting for him.

“What time is it?”

“11:30am.”

Hunter froze in place at that.

“11:30?!?! Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!”

“It’s Saturday and it’s the last three days before summer vacation ends.”

“Oh…”

“You want something to eat first, before we go?”

Hunter nods.

“Okay then come here take a seat.”

“Though I wouldn’t mind if you come here and help me with the cooking.”

Hunter chose the latter as much as he was afraid of messing it up with one of his tics he was still eager to learn how to cook. He slowly walked towards his foster father, his breathing picking up slight speed.

“Ok before we make this are you allergic to nuts?”

“No.”

“Ok then good, now on to your late breakfast do you know how to make banana nut muffins?”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Alright then I’ll teach you how.”

“First off we need the dry ingredients, do you mind putting them in the bowl next to you?”

“No I click don’t mind.”

“Great kid, ingredients should be in the cabinet near the microwave ok.”

“Ok what do I need pop again?”

“1 1/2 cup of flour, one teaspoon of baking powder, baking soda, and salt, then we need one teaspoon of cinnamon, cardamom and nutmeg.”

Hunter was still feeling somewhat uneasy during this. (Why are you acting like this?!?! You’re supposed to be having fun with learning how to cook. Why are you so messed up!?) ignoring the buzzing anxiety in his head he did what he was told to do.

“Next you need to whisk them together. Do you need help with that or will you manage?”

Why is he being so patient with me? That was the question that was repeating in Hunter’s head. He just didn’t understand the patience of his foster dad he didn’t understand.

“I can manage.”

Bump handed the whisk to Hunter, though that doesn’t stop him noticing his foster child’s breathing picked up a bit of speed almost as if he was anxious.

Hunter began to whisk the dry ingredients together, his breathing becoming a tad bit faster. (Don’t mess this up everything will be ruined if you do. Don’t mess up. Don’t.) His breathing hitched.

“That’s good you can stop now.”

Hunter snapped back to reality and jerks his head back hoping that his foster father didn’t notice. In the back of his mind he was thankful that Bump grounded him even if for a brief moment.

“Ok what’s next?”

“I already smashed the bananas so you’re going to need 2/3 cup of dark brown sugar, the melted butter is already next to the stand mixer, so next you need a egg, two tablespoons of milk and one teaspoon of vanilla extract.”

Hunter gathered the rest of the ingredients and placed them near the stand mixer.

“Okay first the milk with the vanilla extract, then the dark brown sugar, after that you have to crack the egg and-” he messed up. He slammed the egg too hard and made a mess.

“Sorry hiccup I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m pop sorry.”

Hunter was crying out apologies. (Not even a week and you’ve already messed up? Oh god everything is ruined he’s going to throw you out.)

Bump knew he had to reassure him that it was a accident and he didn’t mean to do it on purpose.

“Hunter it’s ok, accidents happen. Everything is okay.”

Bump reached to put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder to comfort him but the boy quickly curled up and made himself smaller, as if to avoid a hit. Bump knew the kid didn’t have a good life before he got put into the system but now he’s seeing how broken Hunter was.

“Hey Hunter, it’s okay I’m not going to hurt just because of an accident. You made a mistake and that’s alright I will never ever hit you. Do you understand that.”

“Yes. I think I do.”

“Alright I’ll get another egg for the muffins and put the butter in for you okay?”

“Okay.”

Hunter was trying not to tell Bump that he wants to do it because he clearly thinks he’s made a mess of himself.

“Alrighty you feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you still want to help?”

Hunter nods wanting to forget about what just happened.

“Alright next we have to combine both ingredients and then we put 1/2 cup of chocolate chips and walnuts.”

Hunter was silent but got what they needed. Bump turned off the stand mixer.

“We’re almost done so bare with me here, can you preheat the oven to 425?”

“Ok.”

He set the oven to the temperature that was requested.

“Great now set it to bake for five minutes and after that I’ll set to 350 and bake for fifteen minutes.”

Hunter just wanted this over with so he did what he was told.

“Sit on the couch and wait alright.”

“Got it.”

Twenty minutes had passed and the muffins were done. They looked pretty good despite the mess that happened while making them. Hunter grabbed one headed towards the car and his foster father followed suit.

“Ready?”

“sigh ready.”

[oscars-wifeyyy]

Chapter 7 (The Innocent)

Now it was Thanksgiving break that was filled with nights with Monse and days with Oscar then the crew. Thanksgiving was obviously spent with family until the sun went down and everyone met at Ruby's place. Everyone was walking and having a good time, but Elizabeth knew that Monse and Ruby were still hurting from seeing their loved one with another person.

"Where's Mario? I was hoping to see him," Jamal asked.

Ruby smirked, "he went with his new bougie girlfriend to Nevada,"

"Instead of coming home?" Monse asked.

"Monse, he is in the bone zone with his new girl," Elizabeth chuckled.

"True,"

"Can you pass the tres leches?" Olivia asked, "my mom makes the best tres leches for my birthday. Guess not this year,"

"Don't say that," Monse comforted, "maybe your folks will be home before your birthday,"

"In a week? I don't think so," Olivia looked down.

"Wait," Ruby paused, "your quince is in a week? And you didn't tell us?! Mom, dad! Olivia's quince is in a week!"

"It's not a big deal," Olivia tried to tell Ruby.

Ruby's family came to the main room and surrounded the girl, "is this true?"

"Olivia, don't you worry about a thing. I can get my shift covered next weekend and we can have it here next Saturday," Ruby's dad said.

There were cheers coming from everyone except for Olivia, who went to hide in her room. Elizabeth nudged Cesar, pointing towards her room. The two went to the room to look inside and saw Olivia crying, but she quickly wiped them away when she heard them coming in. They moved to sit next to her when Monse opened the door again to join them, but soon after all three pulled each other in a hug.

"You don't have to do this," Olivia sniffled.

"We're not doing anything. This is for me," Monse smiled at the crying girl.

"And me," Cesar and Elizabeth said in sync.

"We felt the need to hug. Now accept the hug, damn it," Elizabeth chuckled with everyone.

"I can't believe I'm about to have my first birthday without my parents and it's my quince," Olivia wiped under her nose, "it's so ironic. I mean, since I was able to walk, my mother has driven me crazy talking about my quinceañera. Trying recipes, cutting magazines, making playlists. My dad, practicing our waltz so he'd have it down on the day. He's been practicing for years. Years!"

"That's a lot of dancing," Monse said.

"Yeah. He has no rhythm. Like none. So, my feet are shredded, all in the name of my mother's obsession, which I used to pray to stop. But now it has...I miss it," Olivia finished.

Ruby walked in, "what's going on?"

"Nothing. You just totally and completely devastated Olivia by suggesting she have a quince," Monse said.

The short friend walked over to the hug pile and joined in, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rub salt on the wound,"

"It's not your fault. I haven't seen my parents in months and I've barely talked to them. It's just a nightmare situation,"

Ruby stood up, "which is why you should have a party!"

"Ruby, she doesn't want to celebrate. Are you even listening?" Monse looked at Ruby in disbelief.

"I am," Ruby rolled his eyes, "what I'm hearing is how important this party is to her mom,"

"I can't do this without her," Olivia said.

"But that's why you have to. You're not betraying your mom to have a quince if she's not here, but you would be betraying her to not have one because she's not here," Ruby stood in front of his friends' eyes, "not after all her planning,"

"I side with Ruby on this one," Elizabeth shrugged.

"I never thought of it that way,"

"Because I'm good at making people understand the right side of an argument," Ruby gloated.

"Or annoying them to submission," Monse retorted, high-fiving Elizabeth.

"Do you have any idea about what you want?" Ruby asked Olivia.

The next day came around and there was a squad meeting at Ruby's, but Ruby said to bring a computer or a phone so Elizabeth just brought her phone. Everyone was present except for Olivia and Ruby, but Ruby walked into the dining room with a headset and a huge binder, slammed it onto the table.

"Everyone please open your e-devices and find the email I sent titled 'winning'. Find it? Good. after copious hours of searching through Olivia's quincespirations, I've compiled the best ideas on a Pinterest page on the link below her head shot," Ruby informed.

"Where's Olivia?" Cesar asked.

"The princesa doesn't need to be bothered by details. Now, anyone else have a dumb question? Huh? Good. before we really get going, I'd like to remind you that we're not just friends and family, we're damas and chambelanes in Olivia's court of honor, which means being honorable and dedicated," Ruby looked at everyone, "take a look at our mandatory rehearsal schedule and..." his phone began ringing, "excuse me, I have to take this. Ruby's Fancy Festivities,"

Elizabeth had gotten a call so she looked at her phone and saw Oscar's contact name. Quickly excusing herself, she went to the backyard and accepted the call.

"Wassup? Everything ok?" Elizabeth asked.

"Whatchu doing right now?" Oscar disregarded her questions.

"At Ruby's for a meeting for Olivia's quince. Look like I'm a dama too," Elizabeth sighed.

Oscar started laughing so Elizabeth hung up the phone and went back inside to go back to the group to see Ruby done with his call and contemplating something.

"...think the twins can pull it?" Ruby asked.

"No," Cesar looked at Ruby weird.

"Fine. Moving on. The following are individual responsibilities," Ruby said.

"I'll handle music," Cesar said.

"I'll handle the baking," Elizabeth said.

"Great minds think alike, compas. Monse, given your expert penmanship, you're gonna do the invitations,"

"No," Monse rolled her eyes.

"Use cardstock," Ruby turned to Jamal, "Jamal, you can cater. And by you, I mean your dad,"

"How many people?" Jamal asked.

"Well, there's us, and then the whole block, and...300," Ruby said nonchalantly.

"300 people?!?" Jamal raised his voice.

"You're right. Better make that 350,"

"Jamal will do the flowers. I will do the food," Abuelita said from the kitchen.

Elizabeth fell asleep on the table, but it was interrupted when Ruby woke her up and told her to go to the living room for dance practice. She stood from her seat and made her way to Monse and Olivia, staring at Ruby.

"He's eccentric," Olivia tried to give Ruby the benefit of the doubt.

"Not eccentric," Elizabeth yawned, "more like quincecabra. Anyways, I'm out, I gotta go to the restaurant,"

She walked out of the house and into the red Impala that was waiting with the guy that was so hung up on her without even realizing it. She greeted him with a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek as they began their short drive to the restaurant. Once they got there, Oscar walked her in and went back out to waste four hours since the things that had to be done were done.

Oscar walked around the area and noticed the looks of fear directed towards him because of his appearance, but he reveled in the fear-filled eyes. A store caught his eye so he went inside and looked around, not caring about the security guards that watched him closely. Something shined in his eye so he turned his attention and saw a simple necklace with an O dangling on it so he called one salesman over and pointed at the necklace.

"How much for that?" Oscar asked.

"Oh," the salesman looked dumbfounded because of the simplicity of it, "that's 300, sir,"

Oscar nodded and took out the three hundreds from his wallet, handing it over to the guy, "that cover it?"

"Y-yes, sir," he fumbled with the box and put in the necklace before pushing it into the cholo's hand, "h-have a good d-day, sir,"

"You too," Oscar walked out and smirked as he went out of the store and back to Elizabeth's job.

He waited for another twenty minutes until the familiar girl came walking out with a huge smile on her face. She jumped into the Impala and they went off to go back to Freeridge, but Oscar had felt his stomach drop nervously. The usually hard cholo had taken glances towards the younger girl who was humming to the music playing on the radio so he just went for it.

"Elizabeth, be my ruca. For real like be official, baby," Oscar cleared his throat while facing the freeway, "I don't care about my strikes, I just want you to be mine,"

"Oscar..." Elizabeth sighed, "you might be fine with the risk of getting caught, but I'm not. I won't be the reason Cesar doesn't have you with him again. I want to be with you, but I gotta turn eighteen first. I'm about to turn seventeen and that's not even close to legal age, Oscar,"

"It's my choice too, Eli," Oscar flared his nose in anger, "I want to take that chance to be with you! We can be careful and keep it under wraps,"

"Then are you willing to not be able to go on dates and just stay in?" Elizabeth stared at the older man, "I mean it, Scar. You can't flaunt me around at least not publicly."

Oscar nodded, "done. I can do that,"

"Then yeah, I'll be yours," Elizabeth had a small smile.

Oscar grinned and grabbed her hand to kiss her knuckles, causing Elizabeth to blush. She also moved to their joined hands to repeat the action and rest their hands on her thigh. Their moment was interrupted by Oscar's phone ringing.

"Hermanito," Oscar answered the phone.

"Oscar! I just got pulled up on by LaTrelle. Monse's with me right now," Cesar freaked out on the phone.

"Where are you?" Oscar seethed.

"At the bodega,"

"Be there in 10. Stay there," Oscar hung up with a tight face, but slightly relaxed when Elizabeth took his hand with both of hers and kissed the top of his hand.

10 minutes later, Oscar and Elizabeth were at the bodega and Elizabeth immediately got out to hug Cesar and Monse, glad that they were alright. Everybody was too scared to even notice that the two unlikely friends came to the scene together.

[disneybooksandanimearemylife]

Mirror, Mirror by Jen Calonita

This was one of the shorter books in the Disney Twisted Tales series; just under 350 pages. I got to admit that it was short and sweet. Simplicity at it’s finest.

PLOT: This story follows the original 1937 movie almost to a tee. From the characters lines, Snow White finding the Dwarf’s cottage, to the Evil Queen turning into an old hag. However there are some altercations to the story. Instead of the Queen poisoning Snow White she poisons the prince in Snow’s place. And it turns out the Queen has known the Magic Mirror for much longer than we realized. Snow White must take her place as Queen and find a way to cast the Evil Queen out of the kingdom.

PROS: I really appreciate that Jen kept most of the characters simple. Snow White is kind but knows when to rise to the occasion. Prince Henri is caring but let’s Snow run the show. The Seven Dwarf’s got to keep their traits, the only complex character is the evil queen (Ingrid) which makes sense. Yes she’s still a villain, but Jen gives Ingrid an interesting backstory showing that Ingrid used to be just a bitter little girl wanting a better life. Ingrid had let the power of the mirror consume her to the point where she and the mirror became one. So whatever happens to the mirror can in effect hurt Ingrid; and vice versa. 

Snow White does grow as a character. She learns that she can’t just hide from her problems and pretend that everything’s ok. Yet at the same time I still felt like I was reading the original character from the movie. So kudos to Jen for finding that balance. 

CONS: Once again, I have to say that the ending was rushed. It was only the last ten pages and I felt like everything had to be pushed so Snow can get her happily ever after. I only wish that maybe the climax was twenty pages beforehand so it could last longer, that way the ending would feel more satisfying. There was a ton of build up for what was supposed to be a huge battle between Snow’s rebels and Ingrid’s army; but it never happened. The possibilities could’ve been so cool!

I liked it well enough. It was a nice note to end the Disney Twisted Tales with the first ever Disney film. I rate this book an 8/10.

[chubbydrawer]

George Gingerbread

They say there is a tale of a father named George who always put his family off during the holidays, working long nights. Choosing to make money rather than be with his family. Until that fateful day on Christmas Eve. While driving to work he got into a car accident instantly killing him. Santa saw what had happened and the regret the man had for not seeing his family. So his soul was turned into a gingerbread man and in exchange for helping Santa convince other fathers to spend less time at work and more with their families, he could see his family every holiday.

Kyle sat at the office working hard on his board for demonstrating a new idea to the office by January second. It was December 24th and everyone was just leaving the building to go home to their families. Kyles friend Doug stood in the doorway shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you are going to continue working when you are free to go home to your family!” He said disappointed l.

“I gotta get this done! It’s very important, especially if I want that raise!”

“Kyle I get wanting more money but you need to go home! You have a wife and two kids waiting for you to come home!”

“I will I will! Just staying later till this is finished.”

“Well suit yourself. I am heading home for the holidays! See you next week.”

Doug turned to gather his coat and left on the elevator home. Kyle however sat plugging away at numbers.

A few hours went by and it was now 10pm Kyle got thirsty so he went into the offices break room to grab some water. As he headed back to his desk he saw a small little box wrapped in red and had a green bow on it.

“Hello, who dropped this off?”

Nobody replied, he figured it was maybe Doug or someone in the office who left it hear and left while he got the water. He sat in his office chair and slid the small box in front of him. On his desk. He ran his hand through his full brown locks wondering what on earth it could be! He tugged at the bow until it came loose and gently peeled back the wrapping paper to a red box with a lid. He slowly lifted the lid revealing a cute gingerbread man cookie. Funnily enough the cookie was dressed just like him and had the same features! It had slightly long brown hair piped with frosting and his chestnut brown eyes too! He even wore the same blue button down shirt and Kahkis followed by his brown Clark’s boots! He stared at the cookie amused! Must have been a funny office prank from one of his co workers. The only weird part about the cookie was it didn’t look like a normal cookie cutter type this cookie was rounder like it was supposed to resemble a chubby man. Maybe the cookie just got too spread out when it baked her thought. He was a tad hungry so he put the cookie up to his mouth and took a bite. It was absolutely delicious! He promptly finished the cookie within a few bites and got back to work!

It was another thirty minutes after he had finished his cookie when he heard a strange noise. It sounded like small footsteps entering his office but when he looked up he saw nobody.”Hello?” He called out, but nobody replied. He thought it was his imagination until someone called out his name “Kyyyle.” He looked up again a bit startled seeing there was nobody there. He pushed himself away from his desk in his chair a bit scared.

“Who’s there, don’t try to scare me!”

“You should go home to your family Kyle!” The voice said.

“I don’t know who you are but leVe me alone I’m trying to work!”

Just then he saw a small gingerbread man hop up onto his desk. Kyles jaw dropped in disbelief!

“What the fuck” he said surprised

“Hiya the names George Gingerbread”

Kyle just stared at him confused and shocked. How was a cookie talking to him!

“ listen buddy I tried the ole scary tactic to try to get you home but it obviously didn’t work so I’m going to try another approach here. First off yes I am a gingerbread man so close your lip and stop gawking!”

Kyle closed his mouth but kept staring confused.

“Icame here today because you are here on Christmas Eve rather than at home with your family.Its Christmas Eve you need to spend time with them, money isn’t everything trust me!”

“How can you talk!?” Kyle said still shocked

“I used to be a man just like you but I made a mistake and now I’m a gingerbread man and I’m trying to prevent people like you from doing the same!”

“People like me?”

“Yes workoholics who would rather choose work over their families.”

“ listen I just want to get a raise that’s all it’s not wrong to work hard for the people you love!”

@ sure it’s not wrong for you to work hard for the people you love but it is wrong to ignore them day to day and especially on a holiday!”

“ I’m just going to finish my work and then I’ll head home I. A few hours.”

“It’s already late and you still want to work l...I’m obviously not getting through to you. I used to be like you a working man who always thought about the money or the next raise and my family suffered. It only took till me dying in an accident to understand how wrong I was! Don’t suffer the same fate!”

“ Im really sorry that that happened to you but promise in a few hours I will go home I just really want that raise.”

“*sigh* I guess if you want it that bad. I would just be careful with these desk jobs. I hear they’re notorious for causeing people to pack on the pounds!” George said with a small smirk.

Just then Kyle felt a small rumble in his belly.he looked down to see his belly slight visible under his shirt which was impossible! He was a skinny guy with a nice bit of muscles, there was no way he had a belly! He thought it was bloating until he saw it expand before his eyes pressing tighter into his button up.”what the fuck?” He pressed his fingers into his belly but what he felt shocked him! Instead of a stiff hard belly it was soft and dough like. “What the hell is going on?!” He looked angrily at George

“Just giving you your just desserts! Let me show you the toll years in the office sitting on your ass will do to you in just one night!”

“How are you doing this!”

“That cookie you ate had magic in it... just in case I had to be more persuasive...”

“Ah please make it stop!” He said as his stomach continued to expand further tightening his shirt.”

“Go home to your family”

“I can’t I have to work!”

“Then you can enjoy your new size while you work!”

“Gah no! P-lease”

His belly was now the size of a basketball, his shirt revealing strips of flesh between his buttons. He sat there in his office chair holding the sides of his belly watching and feeling it expand under his fingers! “Oh fuck” he said feeling aroused and terrified at the same time. His pecs were not starting to swell with his belly now causing the top buttons of his dress shirt to tighten. Around his growing form. He started to feel pain around his waist as his love handles grew thicker,further tightening his pants . PING! He watched as his pants button flew off of him sending his belly surging forward. The button flew across the room smacking George clean i. The face knocking him of the desk! “Ah damn that smarted” he said rubbing his head. For the minute that distracted George making Kyle stop expanding for the moment. He looked around at his body. He could tell by the way his arms pressed into his shirt that they lost all definition his thighs were also seemingly bigger making his pants more skinny jean like. He could also feel his ass had grown taking up a bit more of the chair. George hopped back up on the desk. “Now where were we? Oh yes I was making you a dough boy!” He grinned and the Kyle resumed expanding! “ please stop everything is so tight ah!” There is only one way I’ll stop and that’s to go home!”

“I need the promotion”

“Hm wow your persistent. We’ll go on with work then don’t mind me!”

Kyle was still growing! He felt a POP! And then another POP! One buy one the buttons around his belly pinged off and shot across the room. His belly wobbled forward flopping into his lap. His sleeves and pant legs were now so tight they were tearing at the seams. RIIIIIIPPP.!!!! “Oh my it seems your fat ass got to big for your britches!” George said mockingly! “You are gonna pay for this!” Kyle said in anger!” “Oh I highly doubt it but I know you definitely are!” Kyle looked in a mirror on his wall in the office. He couldn’t recognize himself. His face was no longer angular but now was filled with fat blending into his neck. His belly was big and round and covered most of his lap now! He looked 350 lbs a pure lard! “Oh fuck” he said shocked at his size. With another big surge of his body his shirt and pants completely burst of sending his body into a fit of quivering.

“PLEASE make it stop I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?”

“Yes please I don’t want to be so huge” as he said this the chair broke from under him causing him to fall to the floor his whole body shaking as he fell.

“ ok I will not only stop this but also make you thinner if you agree to leave work and spend the entire holidays with our family from now on!”

“Fine whatever you want! I get it I love them and I promise I will just please make this stop!

“Ok it’s a deal!... but before I stop this and change you back.... I want to see you fill up this office.”

“Oh gosh please no. I want to be thin again!”

“I promise after I will but come on let’s have some fun!”

“ uh...fine but only if you change me back once you’re done!”

“Perfect!” He said with a grin.

With that Kyle grew and grew! He laid flat on the floor as his body thickened and his belly continued to rise. He was bearing 400 lbs and his underwear was feeling every inch of it! He just got fatter and fatter. He didn’t want to admit it to George but now he was secretly enjoying it. He continued to grow and grow his whole backside was now causing him to round out with fat. He filled out more and more of the room. Every bit a growth causing hi. To quiver! He rounded out more now so fat that his appendages were being sucks so to his bulbous frame. By the time he stopped his whole body took up half the room and looked like a marshmallow. He laid there imobile. Just then he felt his whole body ripple as George jumped all around his belly like a giant trampoline!

“Wow you are so huge and squishy!”

“Haha I guess I am!”

“Hmmm part of me wants to keep you this big forever!”

“Oh god please no!”

“Don’t worry I won’t! You wouldn’t really be able to be a dad if you were this size!” So I’ll shrink you down!”

With that jack started to decrease in size all his blubber melting away. Jack stood up now completely naked!

“Hey I thought you were going to make me the size I was before? Well I was but u think you look good with a bit of chub!

He looked in the mirror and observed himself! He looked well built and had a nice structure of muscle but was covered in a nice thick layer of fat and he had a nice round belly.

“Haha thanks man I guess I do look good this way!.... do you think you could get me some clothes?”

“ OH YEAH SURE!”

A red button up and green kahkis appeared before him and he through them on ready for his travels home to his family!

“Thank you again for making me realize that I had been wrong.”

“It’s what I do now go get your family! Also I want to give you a gift!”

He handed a small red box to Kyle. He opened it to reveal a pair of red and green underwear!

“I know you secretly enjoyed getting fatter so whenever you put these on you will have the powers to control your weight to any size you want!”

“Wow thanks! I’ll admit I kinda did!”

He gave George a high five and left to go to his wife and kids. George’s work was done so he transformed into his normal self and headed to see his family. Meanwhile As Kyle drove home he was wondering how he was going to explain his new size to his wife. And he also couldn’t wait to try out his new gift

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Home sweet Home - Chapter 2

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC

Summary: Emily Wines and Chris Evans have been friends since they were kids. When Emily needs a break from her life she moves in with Chris back in Boston. It sounds easy, but things never go as planned, right?

Warnings: swearing, violence, past trigger memories, eventual, possible smut.

A/N: This story has been on my mind for a while, and I have started writing it on AO3. So yes, I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I will writing it. There will be angst, fluff, an attempt of humour and maybe… maybe a bit of smut. Enjoy :)

Wordcount: 2243

Tags: @southerngracela

PREVIOUS

MASTER LIST

Standing in the middle of the Airport made all of the memories about home, come back. The first time she travelled here with her mom, the first time she saw her house, her own room, the neighbourhood, and the first time she met the Evans' family. The times she has made life-long friendships between those weird-ass kids, that have welcomed her to their theatric group, and made her sing to some Disney songs.

She missed this town. When she moved to DC for her studies and then went to Paris for an exchange programme, Boston was something far away, something forgotten, even though it was still hidden in the deepest places of her heart. She was enjoying her Uni life, her new starting career and awful relationships with guys that well... Let's just say weren't good enough for her. But she did have a life. An amazing life if she looked back. At the age of 27, she opened her first restaurant in DC, a year later it got her first Michelin Star. At the age of 30, she had a restaurant in DC, New York and planning to open in Madrid. She was successful, her bank account was full enough to make her quit now and live a normal life for what she had now, but she wasn't happy. There was something missing. Every night she was going to sleep with a cold side of the bed. Even if she dated, no guy was there when he really needed it, and whatever they both called it, was over before it really happened. She was a 35 years old woman, with no good romantic history.

But she was happy now. She hasn't felt so happy and excited about anything since her first own restaurant opened. After the Madrid place got another Michelin star, she decided to step away and move back home. She was still travelling places and was checking out on it, but she was not cooking anymore, she was not a part of the working bees in the kitchen. She was a manager, the CEO. And she felt that it was just enough for her. She came back here wanting to open a small coffee-book place and just enjoy small-town life.

"Hey, shorty!" She turned around hearing a so familiar voice behind her. With no cares in the world, she threw her handy bag on the floor and hugged the man in front of her. He was so tall and big. Something she didn't notice through FaceTime. Of course, she watched his movies, but damn seeing him now was a completely different aspect. She smiled and snuggled into his chest like she did whenever she had a bad day when they were still kids. He smelled so good, so familiar. So much like home. "Come on, let's get you home before people start to stare too much." She could sense the joking tone in his voice, however, she did understand that there was some seriousness into it. He was Chris Evans after all, the Captain America. Oh, how many times has he complained to her about the lack of privacy, so it was only natural for him to be wary of his surroundings.

He took her small bag, encircled his fingers with her, and head out for the exit. She looked down at their hands, and couldn't think about anything else except that fact that his hands were huge, but nicely and surprisingly soft. They haven't seen each other face to face since they said goodbye to each other for his College. And well, he has changed so much. Not only the fact that he became taller, bigger, but the beard on his face did give him more charm than the camera would show. She smiled sadly, realising something. He has become a man. A very handsome and attractive man.

She stopped in front of the car and whistle. There it was, the beauty that she has only seen through the FaceTime camera, and on the internet. An old enough to be changed but loved by both Chris and her, Lexus ES 350. It's classy and beautiful but should not bring too much attention, which was probably the reason why he has chosen to come here with.

"Ma' told me to get you there for dinner", She chuckled seeing his apologetic look on his face, when they started to drive to his home. "Sorry, tried to argue with her that you need some time to relax, but..."

"Oh, please, no! I'd love to come." She answered, assuringly putting her hand on his hand which was sat on the gear. "Can we just go to your house first? I want to take a shower and change." He nodded and looked at the road. She stared back over the window, remembering every street and corner she’s been in when they were kids. She missed this place so much.

"I have got info from the company, that your stuff will be here tomorrow." She nodded and smiled to herself, sinking into the sit. She did not even know how tired she really was until she sat in this too comfy for her liking car. "You look tired. You sure, you wanna join us for dinner?"

"Come on, Evans, I'm starting to think you don't want me there" She winked at him and smiled hearing him laugh out loud.

"Well, I said yes for you to move in with me, so too late for that now." She giggled and bit her lip. "A penny for your thoughts?" She raised her brows not sure what he meant. "You always bit your lip when there was something on your mind." She shook her head, not believing how well he knew her.

"I'll be out of your hair as soon as I..." But she stopped, feeling his hand moving from the gear up to her thigh, squeezing it a bit.

"We've talked about it, Shorty", she rolled her eyes, hearing his nickname. "You can stay with me for as long as you wish. I'm happy to have you back here." Her cheeks blushed, and she turned away for him not to see. He smirked and took his hand away from her leg.

**

"Shanna and Carly are going to kill you for those, you know?" He laughed seeing all the gifts she has bought for the kids. He was still surprised to find how she was able to pack them all into this bag.

"Oh come on, cause you never buy them anything", she pouted, which made him laugh even more. "The last time I saw them was before Christmas a year ago." He calmed down and sent her a soft smile. He was happy inside to see how close she got with his family.

"What's that?" He asked taking a small tea set. She smiled and put it away from him.

"I promised my mom to visit her tomorrow", he frowned but then smiled and nodded his head. Her mom was laying in the hospital for the last half a year. He visited her a couple of times. She did not look too good, but she was hanging. He always wondered how Emily was taking all that. When she found out about her mother in a hospital, she flew all the way from Madrid for a couple of days. From what he knew, she was paying for every treatment, not being able to be there for her. That was probably also the reason why she came back. All this work and travelling caused her to not be able to be close to her mother, which may have probably broken her heart, with every day.

"Can I come?" She widened her eyes at his request. "I saw her a week ago, so if you're going there anyway, I thought I can tag along?" She opened her mouth to say something, but she only hugged him. He smiled and hugged her back, kissing the top of her head.

"Thank you, Chris." He shook his head when she pulled away.

"No need to thank me, Em. We are like a family." She nodded and straightened up. "Ok, ready for the Evans' family?" She giggled and followed him. They didn't drive, decided to take a walk, in case any of them would like to have a beer or wine for dinner.

"I missed this place", she whispered, as to herself, and he nodded, as he would understand her feeling. "Home is home, after all, right?" She looked up into his blue eyes and smiled sweetly. Without a word, he encircled his fingers with hers, just like at the airport. "I can take the bag", he frowned at her statement. "I can see you're struggling". She put all the gifts for the kids in the bag.

"Again... My ma' would whoop my ass if she saw I let you toss that around." She laughed out loud at this gentleman's way. "Plus it's not heavy. You just coaxed them in such a shitty way", He snickered when she shoved him gently on the arm. "Good to know not everything changed." She raised her brows, waiting for him to continue. "Come on, you really want me to say that?"

"Say what?" she chuckled, looking confused as hell.

"So many things changed since I have seen you last, all those years ago. You have your own restaurants, you're not an annoying brat anymore", another smack on his bicep. "And fuck Emy... You are really hot, you know", she blushed, and looked away, feeling even more blushed, when he started to laugh at her reaction.

"Well, you don't look bad yourself." He licked his lips and smiled. "But you're still a dickhead!" He grabbed his chest at the side of the heart, pretending to be hurt. He winked at her and knocked at the doors to his mom's house.

"Emily, sweetheart!" Lisa pulled the girl for the bear hug. "I have missed you so much."

"Hello mother, good to see you too!" Chris chimed in, making Em giggle under her breath, of his 'mommy's boy' jealousy.

"Oh, shush you. I saw you yesterday." Lisa laughed and pushed them both to the living room, where everyone was waiting. "Go with Chris I will bring something to drink. Beer for Chris, how about you, sweety?"

"I'll have the beer as well, please." She answered, smiling at the woman. She was about to say something more, when she heard the kids, screaming happily seeing Chris.

"I've got a surprise for ya!" He laughed, taking Milo into his arms.

"Aunt Emily!"

**

"So Madrid, New York, DC... damn girl that's some good locations!" she laughed at Scott's statement. "I remember I wanted to eat in NY and there was no place."

"Oh gosh, you should have told me. I would call and make it available!" She huffed, surprised to hear that for the first time. It was getting close to 11. Kids were already asleep, so only the adults left. With some beers already gone, the atmosphere was even more relaxed. She was leaning on Chris' arm, with his head laying on hers.

"See she doesn't even cook in her own restaurants anymore... she's become miss important" Scott continued making everyone laugh, including Chris, who was trying not to fall asleep. She smiled seeing it and got up, making him frown.

"I'm sorry guys, but I'd really need some rest." They all nodded and stood up hugging her and Chris. Both of them got some extras from dinner into the bag and left the house, after promises that they will see both of them soon.

"Thanks." He whispered, walking with her arm by arm. She looked at him and just now realised how tired he looked. "And sorry. You wanted to stay, right?"

"I'm actually tired as well, so no need to apologise." She reassured him, holding his hand, just as he did before. He looked down and clenched his fingers a bit. After a while, they were already at home. As much as Chris was tired, he didn't want to go to sleep. He missed her too much to just end the day like that. He didn't unwind their hands, which made her look back at him. "I've got 'inside out' which I still haven't watched, wanna join me?"

"I thought you were tired?" She chuckled, going to sit on the couch when he went to the kitchen to grab some more beers and popcorn.

"Fresh air gave me some extra energy" he lied, shrugging his shoulders. She frowned and smiled, but nodded. She tilted her head, when he sat next to her, pulling her to him into a side hug. "I missed that", he said into the top of her head, inhaling her smell. "What's that? Coconut?" She giggled and nodded her head which made him hum in approval. "I missed you." She hugged him a bit tighter, enjoying the warmth of his body, feeling so safe.

"You haven't put the movie on..." She finally stated, when the TV was still pitch black. "Let me..."

"Let's just stay like that... I think I really am tired", he whispered, enjoying this little friendly time between the two of them. She smiled and kissed him on the chest through the shirt. Something that may look romantic, was a normal thing for them, something they did millions of time when they were kids and teenagers. Just being there and enjoying their presence.

NEXT

[rahullkohli]

A LITTLE ON NUTRITION AND HEALTH

ok buckle up kids, because i have a load to share on this subject. in this post there will be no shaming of bodies, diets or knowledge - only of idiots who act like they know shit, but in fact are ignorant fools. i.e. idiots who advice people to go on diets, or otherwise treat their nutrition irresponsibly.

also, this is not a ”how to get skinny”-post. this is merely a post to inform about a topic that so many people is dangerously off on. my own personal goal is to lose weight, because my BMI is too high. if you think that you need to lose weight, consult a doctor who can help you figure out if you actually need to lose weight, or if you maybe have an unhealthy relationship with food and/or your body, and that is the issue you need help with.

disclaimer: i am not a licensed nutritionist or health professional. all of my knowledge comes from: me loving to read, me recovering from eating disorders which have prompted me to research on my own plus talk to professionals, me having worked with a nutritionist for over a year where i got to regular updates and have mealplan created specifically for me. also, my mom being a licensed fitness trainer where she also had courses on nutrition.

so, this post came to be because i saw a long post about people being shamed for eating fruit, because some assholes tried to tell them that “fruit is almost pure sugar and bad for you”, or something to that effect, so i will definitely touch on that as well.

the thing is that nutrition is complex and one of the biggest issues in the way our society sees health and nutrition is that it takes a starting point in “one size fits all”, which it most certainly does not. the details of what diet your body needs is unique to you, and magazines/celebrities/blogs/etc. who tries to tell you otherwise either don’t know what they’re talking about, or are feeding you lies on purpose. usually with the goal of money.

as mentioned above; nutrition is damn complex. one diet does not fit all bodies, because our genetic makeup is different. for example, all my three sisters has been diagnosed with PCOS, and i have not. this means that my body can handle carbs better than theirs, because of cysts on their ovaries that overproduce a hormone that makes it harder for their bodies to break down carbs. (feel free to correct me on this one, because i have not researched this condition in details so i may be off on this. i just know people with this diagnosis usually require a low carb diet, the whys and hows are more iffy to me, but this was how i understood it when it was quickly explained to me.) so it is so unique that even four women who share both mother and father doesn’t even match when it comes to dietary needs. it also changes for every person depending on age, so the diet i need now is most likely not the diet i needed as a teenager, or in ten years, and definitely not after menopause because of the hormonal changes.

every single person needs all three macronutrients in their diet, in order to assure the proper function of their body; carbs, protein and fats - yes, fats! as a general rule, it goes most carbs, medium protein and then a healthy, but not too much, amount of fats. but then there are different examples where one needs more or less of one of these because of for example a diagnosis of PCOS. i am not a doctor, so i won’t try to talk about these, because i don’t have the correct information.

CARBS: so why do we need carbohydrates, and why are those what we (usually) need the most of? carbohydrates are what gives us our energy. carbs gets broken down into glucose before entering the bloodstream (this is why athletes love bananas, they're filled with good stuff that gives a good kick after just spending a ton of energy being overly active). this is where the the fruit and vegetables comes in – sure, fruit and some vegetables contain a lot of sugar, but this is fructose which our bodies can easier break down and use for energy rather converting it to fat depots. the sugar that our bodies have trouble breaking down, is refined (often called white, but it also pertains to brown) sugar. simplistically speaking, the sugar we add to our food ourselves.

now, this doesn't mean that you should just eat uncontrollably of fruit and vegetables. as with any other food, overindulging is too much. in denmark the government department for nutrition has for years campaigned that it is important that we get Six A Day. this means six servings of fruit and vegetables every day. due to the high levels of sugar in fruit, for most adults the reasonable choice is 250 grams of fruit, and 350 grams of vegetables every day. the best choices are high in fiber and proteins. especially green ones like apples, broccoli, spinach, peas and green beans are good. note: you also need carbs from stuff like pasta, rice, potatoes, bread, bulgur, quinoa or other in the same category.

PROTEINS: the proteins are responsible for building and maintaining our muscles. this isn't just for bodybuilders/athletes, this is for every single person out there. you need proteins to be able to move your body. protein is also what builds and maintains our hair, nails and skin. a lot of girls/women are in a protein deficit, especially if they work out, because they are afraid it will make them look masculine. this is severe misinformation. as a cisgendered girl/woman you cannot eat or train your way to the look of a stereotypical cisgendered man, you will need to take steroids for that. if you are a trans woman, i will advice you to speak to a professional about this, as i have no information about this, and considering every trans woman's situation is unique in relation to hormones.

protein is most widely known to come from meat and fish, but this can also be found in some vegetables, nuts, soy, quorn and dairy, which is a very good alternative for vegetarians/vegans.

FATS: there was a time where fat was the number one scare in health media, and it hasn't quite been let go since, which is terrible because fats are so incredibly important for our bodies to work the best they can to keep us healthy. fats are responsible for helping your body absorb vitamins, and help keep your heart and organs healthy. if you don't get enough fat, you risk severe constipation and may need surgery. healthy sources of fats are fish and nuts.

so these are the three nutrient groups that we need in order for our bodies to be at our best, but of course it isn't that simple. it also matters how many calories you get, and how you spread them out throughout the day.

as mentioned above, i have been seeing a nutritionist for over a year, and i have lost 20kg by following a mealplan that was tailored to me specifically from information about my gender, age, height, start weight and general activity level. we found that the reason i wasn't losing weight despite my high activity levels, was that i simply wasn't eating enough – yes, another thing media ignores is that eating too little can cause weight gain – and that i didn't spread my food reasonably out over the day, which caused my bloodsugar to be unbalanced.

i started out with one mealplan with x amount of calories spread out on five meals throughout the day. however, since i plateued in my weightloss i just recently got a new plan with more calories and an extra meal a day. this means that i now have three big meals + three snacks, with never more than 2-3 hours between these to keep my bloodsugar leveled all day.

but aside from this you also need to consider vitamins, fiber, minerals and omega 3s. so yeah, it really is about having a balanced diet, but it's much more than just remembering to not eat too much meat, or too much fruit.

why weightloss diets are bullshit and unhealthy: not only is a weightloss diet a waste of time, because if you eat a certain way for x amount of time, and then lose weight to reach your goal, but then go back to eating as you did before, you will just gain the weight back. if you and your doctor think that you need to lose weight, what you need is a lifestyle change. maintaining a healthy body – regardless of size – is a commitment for life. it sounds overwhelming, but breaking it down it is about creating healthy and stable habits, in the form of varied nutrition spread out over your day.

what my experience also tells me is that it is important to not be too restrictive, since this is setting yourself up for failure. if you promise yourself to not have anything unhealthy like chocolate or soda then there's a bigger chance that once you do have it you will end up overindulging. besides, what kind of life is it if you can't enjoy it? sure, healthy and balanced food can be so good and delicious, but there also needs to be space for having pizza with friends, or cake at a birthday party, or a fancy coffee because you just fucking deserve it. you will not ruin your body if you decide to have ice cream one day, or if you just feel like you can't eat anything at all; just do your best to get back to the healthy habit you have worked hard to create.

the key is to not let it be every day, but if you find the diet that fits you specifically, you shouldn't even be craving these things all the time, because all your needs will be satisfied. if you do find that you crave overindulging at all times, you may need professional help. overeating is a disorder and should be taken just as seriously as undereating – both are rooted in psychological issues, and this can't be processed just by getting a mealplan.

i feel like i have been around most of it by now, but if you have any questions (or you actually know more than me and have constructive criticism) you are more than welcome to message me. i hope this was informative and understandable. english isn't my first language, so i apologize for anything that may not make sense in terms of linguistics.

as a last note i want to stress that i am not a professional, and if you are struggling with body image or your relationship with food, please seek help from someone licensed to handle those kinds of things. never try some fad diet because a magazine or a celebrity said it helped them, because it could damage your body than it could do good.

[fuck-customers]

TLDR: Im ready to quit because of ONE coworker even though I love the rest of my department and new manager. Sorry for a long rant but it's been a long time coming. This is a fuck coworkers. I work in the bakery as a Baker n main weekly closer, at the grocer of rotten, been at this hell hole for about 5.5-6years, and I've only quit once n came back to because of one coworker whom we will call H. Now before H came back I had heard stories about her n her craziness. I tried shrugging it off, after all how could I judge someone I'd never met based upon one bakers comments? I was dead wrong. She started out nice, acting like I was her buddy. We hung out a few times, n little by little she would snitch to our bakery manager things i "wasn't" doing or saying false things to her that "I"had said about outmr manager, who was a raging jerk who made so many people quit under her as well. She would also unload all her work on me in various ways, " oh I couldn't get WXYZ, I know you have a lot do but can you do those for me too?" on an almost daily occurrence. I eventually had enough of H and her backhanded, lying, and manipulative ways, along with my jackass manager that I eventually put in my 2weeks. I was free and happy, got about 6 months away from there before I got a text from H. She was miserable now that I was gone and our manager was making her the newest target for her hatred. She was allowed to transfer to bulk, but they had to have a replacement for her and she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown that would lead to self harm if she couldn't get out of the bakery. Reluctantly I agreed to come back, but with almost top pay because if I had to dressn with our manager again I'd be at least paid to deal with her bullshit. H was happy, she thrived in bulk, and eventually was promoted to scanning n signs, cool beans, whatever. I stayed in bakery, went through evil manager, another manager who was a fellow baker(dumb as a rock n stoned out of her mind half the time but as long as we had hours n product not my problem.) Stoned manager eventually gets into enough trouble having only been the manager maybe a little over a year and is demoted for various reasons: So many people quit because of her as well, her shrink was always too high, inventory wa never on par with what Corp wanted, she wa leaving early, etc. We get our newest manager, J. She's fabulous, she's willing to work with everyone n give them a weekend off of they want, she always tells you that you're doing a great job, how much she appreciates you, lets us giggle talk n listen to music n we are in general a much more upbeat bunch now. Well this changed when H was forced to step down n be relocated to bakery due to whatever reason (rumor mill says she was sleeping with an ASM, which I can believe because I already know she slept with an ex ASM when she was still in bulk, n such relationship was reported to HR). Our SM n H are bff, she's kissed enough ass since she came back to the store that she can do no wrong in his eyes. So he moves her instead if firing her, claiming it was to help us since we were incredibly short staffed at the time. We also got an extra clerk, a guy who was a cashier, so it seemed like a general SM move. H gets put on coldcase, which kind of pissed me off because I'd been trying my hardest every night to maintain the damn thing, n get backups done to prove I should be coldcase. H isn't bad at the job, just knows how to waste huge amounts of time on one task n over fills the case every week. But everything looks nice so management doesn't call her out on it. I stop helping make backups cause fuck it that's her job now and she's here 5 days a week for 8hours, that's enough time to have everything you need done right??? NOPE APPEARNTLY NOT. She constantly leaves stuff off, doesn't clean up her area, leaves passive aggressive notes about "I need you to do this for me" leaves early or calls out on some days only to come in on her days off to "make up"her hours, is constantly using products we aren't supposed to use on things we make, n gives customers whatever they want on such short notice, but will give attitude to customers if she's in a bad mood, and overfills the coldcase with so much product that I eventually dump days later. The most I dumped one week (all on one day) was over $350 from her bullshit. And once again this gross waste of Corp time and money goes without a shit given. Last night (8/21)was the last straw however. I came in n a guy from grocery immediately tells me H was screaming and yelling and talking shit about me to our new ASM, n telling him "SHE NEEDS TO DO THESE THINGS FOR ME, I WANT YOU TO MAKE A LIST FOR HER." Like BITCH REALLY!? You're 👏not👏my👏supervisor👏 So I plug in the few missing items cause I have nothing to do til I can start pulling items from our self serve anyways, but I notice on the list at the bottom " make backups of cupcakes and out of stock items" n ya'll I lose my shit. I was ready to cry out of anger. I told our ASM I refused to do backups for her, the last time I did she didn't use anything but the cupcakes and honestly i'm not making shit if she's gonna waste it on overfilling the case, and that she's here 5days a week for 8hours, NOT my problem that she can't find time to do that. I also pointed out she came in Sunday for about 4 hours on HER DAY OFF to make up hours n bullshited like 3 large fruit tarts when she could have actually done backups (I had even pointed that out to her). He just nodded n said ok (which I'm kinda scared I'll get in trouble for saying no) Like im going to have a LONG talk with our bakery manager when she gets back from vacation about how I feel, n maybe transfer to bulk to help the specialist there cause she has hours n its just her. I love helping her package candy up when I close(I seriously have nothing to do most nights since we hired a new girl for midshifts), n I get to nibble on any leftover candy(with in reason). Its super relaxing and smells so good, it really is the only reason I haven't just quit on the spot.

[y-not-loki]

When The Day Met The Night | Pepperony

Anonymous asked:  Uhh for the 350 follower writing thing, Pepper/Tony and When The Day Met The Night by Panic! At The Disco? (I bet you can tell who this is oof)

(I’m sorry about how late this is and if it’s really crappy I’m doing this behind my parents’ backs) (but I have a feeling I know who it is) (holy sheep I just finished and I suddenly realise I don’t really know how to characterise and I’m shit at writing, but please do enjoy) (also, I know this was meant to be a love letter, but this came to mind when I listened to the song so uh bye)

Warnings: Swearing, unedited writing + sleep-deprived writer.

When the moon fell in love with the sun All was golden in the sky All was golden when the day met the night

The bright lights of Tony’s lab flickered off as he rose up the stairs and into the golden light of the living room that he and Pepper shared.

When the sun found the moon She was drinking tea in a garden Under the green umbrella trees In the middle of summer

When the moon found the sun He looked like he was barely hanging on But her eyes saved his life In the middle of summer (summer)

Tony stumbled out of his workshop at 4 in the morning, having worked on a few projects, he was so tired, after not sleeping for three days straight (nearly a record, but Friday managed to overload a circuit he was working on as a reminder and he eventually gave up trying to work on it). Nearly tripping at the top of the stairs and sloshing the coffee in the mug in his hand around, he quickly caught himself and was startled at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Glancing around, his eyes caught on a vaguely human-shaped blur sitting on a long brown blur next to a green blur. Pepper sitting on the couch with the houseplant she had been so freaking stubborn about buying for the living room. “And where have you been for the past three days?”

“I, uh....” Shit, which lie was this one again?

“You were....” Pepper gestured with maybe a hand or something (his brain had gone numb a few hours ago, but that didn’t stop his hands from moving), possibly to try and push his answer out of him. “You said you were away with the Avengers doing Avengers business.” He didn’t need to see her face to understand that she was giving him the Stare of Disappointment.

“Pep, I’m so sorry, it’s just that I just got a new idea, I just didn’t have the time and the only way-”

There was a weary sigh and an answer, “I understand. Now come to bed with me.” She came closer to him and came into focus, her beautiful blue eyes seemed to hyptonise him. They were just so beautiful how could he have not noticed before? They were as bright as his arc reactor and as concerned as could be, with the object of concern being Tony.

In the middle of summer All was golden in the sky All was golden when the day met the night Summer (summer) All was golden in the sky All was golden when the day met the night Summer, summer, summer, summer All was golden when the day met the night

Summer was usually his busiest time of the year anyway. With global warming and stuff, the air conditioning system seemed to malfunction every single day, and everyone’s suits had to be adjusted to be able to keep them the right temperature during the heat. He didn’t mind. Really. He swears.

(he does mind just a little bit, because there could be so much he could be working on if he wasn’t stuck upgrading their suits) (but then again, he had so many ideas, he couldn’t possibly get through all of them) (unless he pulls a three-nighter, like he just did)

“At least I finished the upgrades this time.” He whispered to himself, and Pepper hummed an agreement.

“Yes, and I’m proud of you, but if you ever do that again, Bruce and I will take away your coffee for a month, okay?”

“Nooooo....” Tony complained without energy, “You wouldn’t really do that, would you Pep?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes and she snorted.

“What do you think?”

She could, would, and probably should.

So he said, "Would it be all right If we just sat and talked for a little while If in exchange for your time I give you this smile?"So she said, "That's OK As long as you can make a promise Not to break my little heart Or leave me all alone in the summer.

"Well he was just hanging around Then he fell in love And he didn't know how But he couldn't get out Just hanging around Then he fell in love

“Maybe....” Tony’s mouth kinda went floppy for a second, and Pepper quickly ushered him towards the couch, noting that he was dead on his feet. “Give me a few minutes to regain some energy, Pep.” He rested his head on her shoulder, and she ran her hands through his hair.

“Sure, just don’t fall asleep, okay?” She held his face between her hands, making sure he looked her in the eyes.

“Sure thing, Pep.” He replied, falling asleep.

In the middle of summer All was golden in the sky All was golden when the day met the night Summer (summer) All was golden in the sky All was golden when the day met the night Summer, summer, summer, summer All was golden when the day met the night

Summer, summer, summer, summer In the middle of summer, summer, summer, summer The middle of summer, summer, summer, summer The middle of summer, summer, summer, summer In the middle of

Pepper sighed from underneath him, getting comfortable on the couch as best as she could in the summer heat with an over-grown cat on her lap. Tony had fallen into a deep sleep, finally giving into his body’s needs and actually getting some freakin’ sleep.

“I love you....” She whispered to him. “I love you too much, I just hope you won’t leave me next summer.”

Apparently he wasn’t that deep into his slumber, for he whispered, “I love you too, Pep, and I would never leave you. You’re my sun. You’re my light in the darkness. I would never leave you.”

[nickgerlich]

Roll Baby Roll

Think back to when you were young, and your parents took you on the Great American Road Trip. More than likely you saw or even stopped at one of the white and teal-roofed buildings that sold gas, souvenirs, candies, and burgers. It was Stuckey’s, home of their renown pecan log roll and coonskin hats, among other things, and there were once 350 of them.

OK, maybe you need to ask your parents and even your grandparents if they remember, because the chain had been in a steep slide for many years. At least one generation of Americans may have missed the pleasure, as well as the memories. But not to worry, a woman has rescued the company and is sending it back to American highways where it belongs.

Stephanie Stuckey (56) bought the company in 2019, and three years and one pandemic later, is enjoying a meteoric rise in popularity both as a motivational speaker as well as CEO of travel centers. She’s just using a slightly different model than the two generations of family before her.

If you know the shape of them, you can still find repurposed or abandoned Stuckey’s buildings in the wild, just like it is easy to spot 1960s-era Denny’s with their trademark batwing roof. But Stephanie has her sights set on revival, not the religious kind, and envisions many hundreds of those teal roofs across the country.

Stuckey, a former lawyer, state legislator in Georgia, and self-professed tree-hugger with the City of Atlanta, traded it all in for an entirely new career managing and reinventing a brand that was once as common as Buc-ee’s has become among travelers today.

The chain had withered to scarcely more than a dozen outlets, but Stephanie knew that there was a strong nostalgic pull for this once-iconic stopover, and especially for their signature pecan log rolls. So she built a new business model for the company that had been founded in 1937 by her grandfather.

The new emphasis would be on licensing, like a franchise, and merchandise sales. Essentially, licensees get to use all of the Stuckey’s trade dress, and sell coon skin hats, pecan log rolls, and all the things that once made this business so popular.

The company had actually sold in 1964 and again in the late-1970s, and under the ownership of increasingly large companies, lost its way. The Accidental CEO, as Stephanie likes to refer to herself, represents an anomaly in that she has clawed the family business back from the clutches of a soulless corporation that couldn’t figure out what the secret sauce had been all along.

Stephanie is also quick to admit the folklore about the third-gen of a family business being the one that messes it up. But there were those 55 years of corporate ownership in between for all that, and the brand was about as messed up as it could be without actually going out of business. She can only go up from here.

While she has had great success thus far, including a 550% growth in online sales, her quest is no small challenge. This is especially true when you consider highway mainstays like Pilot, Flying J, Love’s, Petro, and, of course, Buc-ee’s. Bigger-is-better has been the highway mantra for this entire century and easily a decade prior, and smaller shops simply do not have the luster as competitors with co-branded fast food, and merchandise featuring a smiling beaver.

But Stephanie is banking on nostalgia as one of the most powerful marketing tools at her disposal. While there are millions of people my age who remember Stuckey’s, I have to wonder how it will resonate with the generations after mine, when Stuckey’s became less and less of a highway presence.

With 65 licensed locations today, she has engineered roughly a 500% growth on the brick-and-mortar world as well. Furthermore, she has purchased four pecan candy companies, thereby cementing her supply chain. Because, you see, Stephanie has effectively gone into the candy business. Her products are available in those 65 locations, of course, but also in 200 retail shops.

Smart woman, I tell you.

Meanwhile, there is hope among younger travelers who may wish to support the underdog—albeit an underdog that once ruled the road. These shops are not big and brash. They don’t have shopping carts. They just cut to the basics. And along the way, you’ll be helping prove that Stephanie’s new role was no accident, but actually providence.

Put that on your pecan log roll and think about it.

Dr “How Do You Say Pecan?“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

[haylanmakesstuff]

Day 42-44

I had a nice long bath in a disgusting bathtub and headed onto Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park. Just 5 more hours in the car. Just 5 more hours. This was the most uneventful day of driving yet. What should have been 5 hours was closer to 9 since California has the speed limit, no matter how high it is, capped at 55 for all trailers and GPS do not account for it. I get it, but good glob, this made it a long day.

I arrived at my camp between the two parks, in Sequoia National Forest at Big Meadows. I had looked in the parks first, but they were all full. I am so glad for that, because I am literally the only person in this entire campground. It is dark. It is silent. It is cold. It’s wonderful. Here is some picnic table graffiti for you:

My first morning in Kings Canyon National Park, my tire light came on and I had to fret about it all day. Couldn’t find any screws, the front was maybe a few PSI low, but nothing worrisome. I filled them at an overlook since I carry a small compressor. The tire light didn’t go off, so I just checked them every stop. I Drove to General Grant’s Grove and saw one of the largest trees in the world, surrounded by other Giant Sequoia’s. There’s something so beautiful about the color of their bark; red and almost fuzzy looking.

I appreciate the interpretive signs here that use creative ways to help people understand and appreciate these rare resources: If the trunk of the General Grant Tree was a gas tank on a car that got 25 miles per gallon, you could drive around the Earth 350 times without refueling. Wowza!

I saw there were a lot of closures due to construction and fire damage, so I wouldn’t be visiting some of the staples that had been recommended to me by Ashton, who worked in Sequoia for 2 seasons. Since Crystal Cave was closed all summer, I decided to stop on Forest Service land at concessionaire run Boyden Cave, a small but pretty cave with a lot of calcium carbonate and silica in their formations that make them glitter even when they are not wet.

I headed down the line to an extremely empty visitor center where I earned by Junior Ranger Badge!

This badge is dedicated to anyone who donates before the fundraiser ends on 9/30/22.

I did a small, paved path to Roaring River Falls, an easy way to see a pretty waterfall, and finished my day with a pot of potatoes after doing physical therapy at my camp. I love having a campground all to myself.

The next morning, Day 44, I wanted to do a hike on the Kings Canyon side before I spend the rest of the week exploring the Sequoia side. I chose the Big Meadows Trailhead just about a mile from my campsite, because of the ease of access to the Jennie Lakes Wilderness, and based on the fact that the parking lot never looked too busy when I’d pass it every day. There’s no service, so I was relying on the trailhead postings to give me information on the hikes. Although they have a rudimentary map listed, they have no distances posted, so I decided I’d pack well and hike for as long as I wanted towards Weaver Lake, have a sit down, then hike back.

I met two dogs on the trail – interestingly enough I only experienced other solo hikers on the way in, no couples or groups. There were only 4 people total. My kind of hike! The terrain wasn’t the worst, though difficult, the sun hot, but the shade and breeze nice and cool. I could feel my body was doing *just ok* but I kept going, hoping to get to Weaver Lake so I could enjoy my sit down with a view. I started to get tired and discouraged, but knew the lake was under a scree field that wasn’t too far away. I persevered. I found this on the trail:

Good sign or bad sign? 

Weaver Lake was gorgeous. What is it about backcountry and alpine lakes that I just never get tired of? This one doesn’t look all that different, but I just absolutely love it. 

It looked like dogs had already entered the lake and disturbed the bottom, so upon realizing the water wasn’t as cold as most lakes in this setting I took off my shoes and had a half dip.

I wanted a whole dip but know going swimming all alone in the backcountry is a good way to end up on some podcast that’s going to call me dumb. I laid myself out on a slanty rock like a marmot and had a soak in the sun. I ate snacks, read a book, became a general voluptuary.

I am obsessed with this grass, and we will be getting married next Tuesday. I mean, just look at it! Sorry Husband, this beautiful grass has swept me off of my feet with its good looks and I just can’t resist.

I found this on the muddy banks of the lake: 

Good sign or bad sign? 

I knew as much as I liked it here and just wanted to stay longer, my 1.5 hour lay about meant it was only going to get hotter out. The way back out was easier, since it was mostly downhill, but I could feel my soft tissues were starting to rebel.

I wrapped up the day with sitting at my site and sewing on a felt Christmas stocking; yes, I am an old lady and I have no shame about it.

Haylan

[cromulentbookreview]

Binge!

It makes sense why we use a term normally associated with food like “binge” to describe that day where you do nothing but watch every episode of that one TV show. You don’t really hear someone say that they’re going on a book binge, though. When referring to a media “binge,” it’s usually always TV, and, to some extent, movies (I once binged all three Extended Editions of Lord of the Rings - it took a day and a half and it was amazing). I think we need to have more book binges in our lives. In fact, there’s even a book review site way more organized and put together than mine will ever be that’s actually called Book Binge. 

Anyway, for me a book binge is when you pick out a series that already has several books out and you read them all, one after the other. I did this earlier this year with Naomi Novik’s amazing Temeraire series. I’m pretty sure it’s why I had to get new lenses for my glasses this year. I’ve been on a historical mystery kick lately - I think it has to do with the season changing from Summer to Fall where I immediately go “get me some 19th Century British Detectives!!” 

Which was how I ended up tearing through all 10 of Will Thomas’s Barker & Llewelyn books.

I’d never heard of the Barker & Llewelyn series until I was traipsing around Goodreads looking for some 19th century mystery fiction. Like my strange obsession with 19th century British dudes on boats, I loves me some 19th century British mystery stories. Initially, I didn’t start out to binge the entire series. 10 books is a lot. I had a hard time with Temeraire, which is also kind of 10 books (9 and a bunch of short stories). There were times with my Temeraire binge where my attention wavered, where I wanted to just put the books down and go read something else, but I pressed on. And I discovered one of the great joys of a true book binge: no agonizing wait for a sequel. No having your interest piqued by book one and then sitting and waiting for a year and a half for the next book. With a book binge, you can put down book two and immediately pick up book three because BOOK BINGE. 

There are a few 19th century British mystery series out there that I’m almost too afraid to start with because they consist of roughly ten thousand books and counting (looking at you, Anne Perry) and there’s no way I’d be able to focus on (or care about) a single series for that many books. So when I saw that the Barker & Llewelyn series consisted of nine books, like Temeraire, (plus a tenth book I’d gotten on Netgalley), and that all of them were under 350 pages, I was like “OK, I’ll give the first book a go, and see what happens.”

Yeah, I may have immediately gone from the first book to the second one. And then the third. And then the fourth and the fifth...I couldn’t stop.

The series is all about our audience surrogate, Thomas Llewelyn, and our substitute Sherlock Holmes, detective private enquiry agent Cyrus Barker. At the start of the series, Llewelyn is 22 and a widow who just spent eight months in Oxford Prison for theft. He’d been set to go places, having gotten a scholarship to Oxford, but the whole prison-sentence thing derailed all his plans. So he ends up in London (where else?) looking for work. After months of failed attempts to get a job (not a lot of job opportunities for ex-cons out there, even in the 1880s), Llewelyn decides to try for one last job before throwing himself into the Thames: an assistant position with a prominent private detective enquiry agent, Cyrus Barker. Barker, like all Great Detective Private Enquiry Agent types, is a Scottish eccentric with a mysterious past who knows everything about anything and anything under the sun. He’s got all sorts of weird scars and gang tattoos. He grew up in China and speaks like, eleventy-one languages. He wears sunglasses all the time. Like, all the time. Apparently he does so even when he sleeps. (Yes, they had sunglasses in the 19th century. No, they’re not called sunglasses in these books, but they’re referred to as his “dark spectacles”). Barker is, of course, filthy rich, and upon hiring the poor, unfortunate and 1000% broke Thomas Llewelyn, immediately provides him with room, board, and a whole new suit of fancy clothes. He also sets about correcting Llewelyn’s behavior and manners, a pretty tall order since Llewelyn is a super snarky Welshman. As far as Watsons go, Llewelyn is definitely one of the more amusing, which makes these books so goddamned fun to read. 

Also, Barker has a butler called Jacob Maccabee, who rivals Llewelyn in his deadpan snarkiness. I ship Llewelyn/Mac so hard - every time they’re in a scene together they just have so much chemistry. I don’t care if Word of God is they are both straight. I just want them to be together and snark at each other all day long..

Uh.

Ahem.

Anyway.

Yes, this series is very much your standard, buddy-detective private enquiry duo present in basically all movies, TV and books, but they’re fun. And you know what we all need right now? Fun. Pure, unadulterated fun where the good guys triumph over the bad guys, where the mystery is solved and you’ve got your Sherlock Holmes and your Dr. Watson. Because have you seen the news lately? Yeah, I need some stories where pure good triumphs over evil, where people freak out at the concept of rubber tires and the telephone, and where the story of the day isn’t doom and gloom and horror. Just, you know, murder. But fun, because it’s not real. And because it was the 19th century. In Britain. And not real. Well, except Jack the Ripper, those were real but...you know.

Here’s a summary of the first nine books in the sereies:

BOOK 1 - Some Danger Involved: Your average detective enquiry agent-duo origin story featuring brilliant detective and his new snarky Welsh sidekick!

BOOK 2 - To Kingdom Come: Barker & Llewelyn go undercover and build bombs for the Irish!

BOOK 3 - The Limehouse Text: Barker & Llewelyn face big trouble in London’s 19th Century Chinatown!

BOOK 4 - The Hellfire Conspiracy: Barker & Llewelyn fight human traffickers, secret societies and such!

BOOK 5 - The Black Hand: Barker & Llewelyn fight the Italian mafia!

BOOK 6 - Fatal Enquiry: Barker & Llewelyn fight Barker’s almost comically evil arch-nemesis!

BOOK 7 - Anatomy of Evil: Barker & Llewelyn fight Jack the Ripper!

BOOK 8 - Hell Bay: Barker & Llewelyn Present: Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None!

BOOK 8.5 - An Awkward Way to Die: Barker & Llewelyn solve a case in, like, 20 minutes!

BOOK 9 - Old Scores: Barker & Llewelyn Present: Japonism in Late-19th Century England!

BOOK 10 - Blood is Blood: Barker is put temporarily out of commission by an explosion! Llewelyn must solve the case himself! Who should show up to help but Barker’s long lost brother??

A little more about Blood is Blood: 

So Thomas Llewelyn is only a couple of weeks away from happily marrying his lady love, Rebecca Cowan née Moccatta. Everything is hunky-dory. And then someone tries to blow up his and Barker’s office. Barker is badly injured, leaving Thomas to investigate who tried to kill them by himself. Oh, and, same day the offices are blown up, Caleb Barker, Cyrus Barker’s long lost brother, first mentioned way back in Limehouse Text, I think, shows up. Caleb had been a major plot point in Fatal Enquiry, but then was never mentioned again until this book. He’s been living in the lawless American West, acting as a Pinkerton agent. But can he be trusted? Also, Rebecca’s family is super against her marrying a detective private enquiry agent who isn’t Jewish. Upon seeing just how dangerous the job can be, Rebecca starts having doubts. Will Thomas be unlucky in love yet again? Tune in November 13 for Blood is Blood, same bat-time, same bat channel. 

Yes, this series can, at times, be formulaic and tropey, but...fuck it, I love it. Sometimes there’s comfort to be had in a story where you know the good guys will solve the mystery, maybe picking up a few scrapes along the way. I tore through all of the books of the Barker & Llewelyn series in about two weeks, and finished Blood is Blood in about a day. I should’ve gone slower, because I need more. I need at least five more books, Will Thomas, and I needed them YESTERDAY. Aaaackgh. This is what I get for binging. How long until book 11? Will we be getting another novella soon? And when are we going to meet Thomas's family?! 10 books and we've never met his parents or any of his nine siblings! I want a whole book dedicated to Thomas reconciling with his family and he and Barker and Mac running all around Wales. I NEED IT. 

Write faster, Will Thomas. 

Predictably, after a book binge such as this, my eyes now hurt pretty badly. Time to invest in those fancy eye drops my optometrist keeps telling me to buy.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Anyone needing an escape from the awful world we live in now.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: People who think everything’s fine for some reason. You know. This guy:

OVERALL SERIES RATING: 4.5/5

TOTALLY UNBIASED VICTORIAN MYSTERY / MURDERINO FANGIRL RATING: 5/5

BLOOD IS BLOOD RATING: 4/5

RELEASE DATE: November 13, 2018

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR NEXT BOOK IN THE SERIES: Olympus Mons

[rosarenn]

I fucked up and I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself

I haven’t done any “storytelling” yet on this blog, because, generally, I don’t think it’s necessary. Generally, I think the story can be a distraction from the work that needs to be done: the deep emotional work of grieving, the cognitive work of belief change, the behavioural work of state management. Generally, I think the story can keep us stuck in the past - the brain can’t distinguish reality from something that is vividly imagined, and we can play that video over and over and over again, obsessively. We can end up going around in circles.

But telling the story is important. It’s a way to externalise our thoughts. It helps give order and structure to our thinking. And it creates an opening, an opportunity for the people who care about us to offer emotional support. If we keep it all to ourselves, if we carry that burden alone, we miss out on the opportunity for true intimacy that can only come from vulnerability.

I have many stories, but there is one in particular. It’s a tragedy. In my mind, it’s such an awful story that for years I didn’t give myself permission to share it with anyone. It’s too sad, too painful, best not to burden anyone else with it.

I believe this, along with focusing on the horror of the circumstances, is why seven years later I still have unresolved grief.

That’s a euphemism if I ever saw one. “Unresolved grief” sounds so tame. My heart was shattered into a million million pieces, the video replays in my head as vividly as the day it happened, and the vortex of rage and misery and regret and sheer agony has not abated in the slightest. But yes, unresolved grief.

Recently, I gave myself permission to tell this story. Equal parts Richard Grannon’s coaching and Pete Walker’s books inspired this shift. But because I’ve denied myself the right to tell this story for so long, it’s a bit garbled. It’s disorganised. I go off on tangents and lose track of the story I’m telling.

So I’m going to tell it here. As an exercise. As a step in my grieving process.

Now that I’ve been evasive and mysterious for 350 words, this is a story about a dog. The dog dies at the end, so if you’re sensitive to that, please don’t feel compelled to read it.

My first act of independence, when I moved out of my parents’ homes and in with my shitty boyfriend, was to foster a dog. Not just any dog, but a pit bull. This was important to me: I live in a place where pit bulls are banned, and I felt (and still feel) that this was unfair and unjust, that these dogs were simply misunderstood. Scapegoated, just like me. And because of the ban, the only way I could legally have a pit bull was by fostering, with the idea that they would eventually be adopted outside the area of the ban.

I did my research, picked a rescue, and poured my heart into the application. Having never had a dog before, what I lacked in experience I would make up for with enthusiasm. I remember binge watching Cesar Millan and poring over 100s of pages of research on dog food.

Then Olive arrived and she was perfection. A petite white pittie, with an adorably pink spotted belly, and a big brindle spot around her eye. Spotted bat ears and a baby underbite. A wrinkly velveteen forehead and comically expressive eyes. The most food motivated dog I’ve ever met and sharply intelligent, if you had a treat for her you were the only one who existed in the world at that moment. She was desperate to please and would start offering up tricks unprompted: maybe you want me to sit? maybe you want a paw? She was full of energy but was just as happy to cuddle on the couch, and if you left the room she was coming with you. Yes, even if you were going to the bathroom. If we were in separate rooms she would split her time between us, moving back and forth to check that her people were OK. 

She didn’t care much for other dogs, though she made a few doggy friends. She was skittish at loud noises and pulled like mad on leash. She hated the muzzle that she was required to wear by the ban - even though it was pink to match her toes. Still, she let me put it on. Just as she let me put on the hated winter boots that protected her delicate skin from the winter salt, and the hated winter jacket that kept her exposed tummy from freezing.

I called her the princess and the pea, because only once did I ever see her lay down on the carpet: if there was laundry on the floor, she was curled up in the laundry; if there was a pillow on the couch, she was curled up on the pillow; if there was a pillow on a blanket on another blanket on a pillow on the bed, well, you know where she was. The one time she laid on the carpet was when everything else had been moved out - and even then she found a sunbeam to curl up in.

She learned that if she hopped into the tub and scritched at the drain, one of us would usually come over and turn on the tap so she could drink fresh running water. She learned not to cross the invisible line separating the living room from the kitchen, and would skitter to a stop even if she was chasing a ball and it rolled past. She learned to put herself to bed in her crate when she was tired, and to wait patiently (read: drooling-ly) to be given permission to devour her food.

She was an endless source of joy and love and energy, and I loved her with all my heart.

But she was the only bright spot in my life at that time.

This isn’t a story about the ways in which my shitty boyfriend was shitty. This isn’t a story about my mother using guilt and shame to control me. This isn’t a story about the immense pressure I was under studying engineering, working, cleaning, cooking, taking care of everyone except myself and the debilitating depression and anxiety I was suffering. All these things played a part in what happened next, but I don’t want to focus on them here.

We decided to move. (Read: I was shamed and guilted by my mother and my boyfriend into moving). The problem was that the condo we moved into didn’t allow dogs. I justified it by telling myself that Olive would get adopted any day now, and that anyways, this was exactly the type of reason why I had decided to foster rather than adopt. So we moved, and Olive went back to the rescue.

Despite giving them plenty of notice, the rescue didn’t have a spot for her, so she was kenneled for a while. She picked up kennel cough along the way. That alone was enough to leave me feeling extraordinarily guilty, but my hands were tied with the condo. And it gets a lot worse from here.

Olive went back to a foster family who had previously fostered her. They loved her but it was not a good fit - they had two dogs of their own, and while Olive got along with one, she didn’t get along with the other. They also had a fenced yard, something we’d never had in our cheap apartment. For a while it seemed to be going well, with Olive playing with her doggy friend and getting to spend so much time running around outside, off leash and without her hated muzzle. 

Rolling in the grass, chasing her friend, digging up the yard. She could even climb trees: she would jump straight up, at least ten feet in the air, into the Y of a big tree in the centre of the yard, and come down later covered in sap. We could even visit her sometimes: I remember the moment when she would notice us, and it was instant recognition. Then it was all sloppy kisses and tail wags and a joy you could feel.

Then one day I got the call: Olive had jumped the fence, and she’d gotten into a fight with the neighbour dog. Everyone was OK, there were only minor injuries. But the rescue had decided to kill her.

I know I’m supposed to say “euthanise”. I know I’m supposed to say they “put her down”. I know I’m supposed to pretend it was a painless death, but it fucking wasn’t. I saw it with my own eyes and no one will ever be able to convince me that she didn’t die in agony. Because I saw it.

I begged. Of course I begged. Suddenly, I could see what a mistake I’d made. Suddenly, there was nothing more important in the world than saving my baby girl. I was going to drop everything, adopt her and move outside the area of the pit bull ban, dedicate myself to getting her the training she needed, do everything in my power to keep her safe and to ensure she never ever had cause to get into another fight - but they didn’t want to hear it. 

A committee of people dedicated to saving the lives of pit bulls had voted and decided that she would die, and I was powerless to stop it. I even began to plan how I would kidnap her and go on the run - knowing full well it was illegal and they could send the cops after me - but the other foster told me to drop it, to accept it, that I was making things worse by fighting it, and that got to me.

To this day I still don’t know if I made the right choice.

I was there when she died. We’d spent the afternoon together, playing, spoiling her rotten, giving her all the food she’d always wanted but wasn’t allowed to have. When we went to the vet, he spoke to us gently, gave her a muffin to eat, and put in a stent so that she wouldn’t have to die in the back alone. When it was time, he gave her the single shot that killed her and I saw the look of confusion and pain in her eyes, I saw her sway and go limp and collapse, and I saw the life drain out of her.

Please if anyone reads this, please take away just this one thing: if you ever euthanise an animal, demand two shots: one to put them to sleep, one to kill them. They will tell you that you don’t need the first because it’s a painless death. I promise you, it is not.

I have her ashes. I have a few hairs I collected at the time with half a mind to get a DNA portrait made one day. I have an imprint of her paw we’d made in playdough once upon a time. I have some photographs and some videos. And of course, I have my memories.

I think one of the worst things about losing a dog is that most people don’t understand. They think it’s a small grief because it wasn’t a person. You don’t get a funeral. You don’t get bereavement leave. You don’t get bombarded with cards and flowers and casseroles. People don’t call or visit or tell you they’re sorry for your loss.

The one bright spot in my life was extinguished and I was supposed to just get over it.

It’s hard to put into words how I’ve suffered over this. I was - am - furiously angry. I’ve spread the blame around - the rescue, the foster, the government, society, the condo board, my mom, my boyfriend, and of course, inescapably, me. If I hadn’t agreed to move. If I’d kept sight of what was important. If I’d stood up for myself. How could I have been so stupid? so short-sighted? so limp-willed? How could I have abandoned her like that?

Of course, now I know how. Over two decades of training had led up to that moment. But before that moment, the only one who had ever been hurt by it was me. And I’ve never managed to let myself off the hook for it.

I read somewhere, in a book about grief I’d flipped through at the book store, that sometimes, when we lose someone in a traumatic way, we put all our focus on the circumstances of the death. The how and where and when and who and why. The sense of injustice, the horror, the deep sense of guilt, of helplessness, of powerlessness. And these powerful emotions, I think, can keep us hooked. In the same way that endlessly replaying the video, replaying the story can keep us hooked. Reliving it again and again, torturing ourselves.

The book asked a simple question: Would your loss be any less if your loved one had died in different circumstances?

And of course the answer is no. Resoundingly no. Earth-shakingly no. A light went out in my world, and even if she had died of old age twenty years in the future, it would have been - and is - a tremendous loss.

So every time this video starts to play in my head, I gently take myself by the hand and say, yes yes yes, I know, it was terrible, and I know you feel so angry and so sad and so upset, and you have every right to feel that way. But also, do you remember the moment you first met her?

Usually, this helps me focus my grieving on what I’ve actually lost, rather than get sucked down the vortex of the story. It has its own weight, its own pull, its own gravity - I can’t always escape it, but I try my best. I think this is how I move my grief forward, so that maybe one day I will resolve my grief, whatever that actually means.

If I was going to summarise this story, I would say: 

I loved a dog. But I gave her up willingly. Then when she was in trouble, I couldn’t protect her and now she’s dead.

I fucked up and I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.

I had to write 2400 words to discover that that, really, is the essence of this story.