#theatre business meetup

[themetaphorgirl]

Between moving and performing in a show I didn’t know if I’d have time to finish this, but I did!!

Recently there was a LockNation meetup, and since I didn’t get to go I applied to be a part of the Pocket Friends challenge!! I had to come up with a case with certain stipulations, so I ended up writing a fic for it since that suits my skills! It’s a very cracky self insert but it was honestly a lot of fun.

My stipulations were:

-I was paired with Lucy

-the Visitor was a Limbless

-the weapon of choice was salt

-I lived in the end

This was so fun and goofy and I hope y’all like it!!

And for fun: here’s a video of me running in heels and firing a gun while performing at Disney World (this comes into play, I swear)

“Well, that settles it, then,” Lockwood said. “Lucy, you’ll have to go with the new girl.”

Lucy leaned back to glance into the kitchen at the aforementioned new girl. “Are you sure about that?” she whispered.

“Yeah, she doesn’t seem like the ‘in the field’ type of agent,” George said.

“Holly wouldn’t have recommended her if she didn’t think she’d be a good fit,” Lockwood said. “Come on, let’s ask her.”

Lucy still had her doubts. The new girl was filling in for Holly while she was on leave taking care of her elderly grandmother in Brighton; so far she had proven very capable when it came to scheduling meetings, tidying up, and cooking when George was busy (although there had been a brief incident when she made something called biscuits and gravy, she had hastily explained it was a popular dish where she came from and it did not involve anything sweet). But there hadn’t been any plans to involve her in active cases.

The three of them trooped into the kitchen. The new girl was sitting at the table mending a torn pocket in Lockwood’s coat with a novel propped open against a teapot shaped like a cottage. Between the sewing, her floral sundress, and the bow in her hair she made an oddly domestic sight in the midst of a coil of newly oiled chains and an unopened box of salt bombs.

“Oh, hi!” she said as she caught sight of them. She took another careful stitch, then paused. “Everything okay? Y’all look a little…stressed.”

“We’ve had an unexpected change of plans,” Lockwood said. He cleared his throat. “Kate, was it?”

“Caitlin, actually, but I’ll answer to Kate,” she said cheerfully.

“Caitlin,” he said. “We, uh…well, Kipps can’t make it tonight but Lucy will need some backup, so…would you mind filling in?”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, boy. Uh…are you sure about that? I’m better suited to things like-“ She gestured at her sewing kit. “This is more my speed. I’ve got big Wendy Darling energy. Are you sure you need me?”

“It’s supposed to be Type Two but not a particularly strong one,” George said.

“I just need backup,” Lucy said. “I’ll handle most of it. What’s your Talent?”

Caitlin stuck the needle into the fabric of the coat. “Mostly Touch and a little Sight, not great with Listening.”

“How are you with a rapier?” Lockwood asked.

“Uh…not great,” she said.

“What grade do you have?”

“I was a theatre major?” she offered. “Did Holly give you my resume? I, uh…I’m not really ideal for combat situations.” She rummaged through her pink backpack and pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. “She said you would mostly need me for cleaning and administrative stuff and a little bit of cooking. Which…I’m very good at organizing and I do like baking, but I’m more the anxious homebody type than the cool athletic agent type.”

Lucy leaned around Lockwood’s arm to scan the CV. “Why does it say you can run in heels while firing a gun?” George asked curiously.

Caitlin adjusted her gold rimmed glasses. “It’s a good conversation starter,” she said. “And also, I, um…can.”

“If you can’t use a rapier, could you use a firearm instead?” Lockwood asked. “That could work, right?”

“It’s unorthodox, but probably,” George shrugged

“I think I could make that work,” she said. “As long as Lucy doesn’t mind being stuck with me.”

“It shouldn’t be that bad of a case,” Lucy said. “I can handle it, and you can be my backup. Yeah?”

Caitlin offered a slightly anxious smile in return. “Yeah.”

A few hours later Lucy found herself in front of an old boarded-up house in Greenwich, with Caitlin trailing behind her with a kit bag slung over one shoulder and a black leather purse on the other, presumably holding her pistol.

“Oh lord, where did you find that one, a princess tea party?” Skull said. “Adorable.”

“Don’t be a dick, she’s nice,” Lucy hissed.

“She’s got heels on her boots and she’s still shorter than you. Didn’t think that was achievable.”

“I don’t need any extra distractions right now, thanks so much.”

“Yeah, because you’re going to have to keep an eye on that one in case she sees something with glitter on it and wanders off.”

Lucy flicked the valve on the jar. “All right, do you remember the plan?” she said.

“Uh-huh,” Caitlin said. She’d swapped out the floral sundress for a much more sensible denim pinafore, a gray jumper with bees on it, and black tights and boots. But the moonlight glinted off her glasses and her dirty blonde hair was held back with a dark blue ribbon. “I do the prep work, you do the hard stuff, and I’m here to look for the Source and back you up.”

Lucy nodded. “Flo said that her contact told her there was just a Shining Boy, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

They did a sweep of the house and set up in the chains at the foot of the broad dusty staircase. “So how do you know Holly?” Lucy asked.

“Community theatre,” Caitlin said. “We did a production of Guys and Dolls together, super fun. Although we haven’t gotten to perform together in a while since y’all have been so busy, she hasn’t had time. Do you ever have time to just do fun things? Hang out, go on dates?”

“Not often,” Lucy said. “And I’m not dating anyone. I mean none of us are dating. George and Flo sort of have a thing, I think? But Lockwood and I aren’t”

Caitlin dropped another length of chain on the floor. “You know he’s got a big ol’ crush on you, right?”

Lucy choked. “I don’t know what-“

“Neither of you are particularly subtle about it either,” Caitlin said, grinning at her. “You should figure that out, though, y’all would be the cutest couple.”

“We’re not…I mean, I don’t think he thinks of me like…” Lucy frowned, desperate to find a change in topic. “You keep saying ‘y’all,’ where are you from exactly?”

“Tennessee,” Caitlin said. “You know…where Dolly Parton’s from? Except I’m not from the same town she’s from, I’m from Nashville, but I’ve been to her theme park, it’s-“ She stopped herself midsentence and blew out a slightly frazzled breath. “Sorry, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Lucy said, not unkindly. “It’ll be all right. Let me handle it, and just back me up.”

“Right, yeah,” Caitlin said. “Amazing. I can do that.”

And they probably could have managed, if Flo’s contact had been a bit more sure of what they were going to be up against. “It’s a Limbless!” Lucy shouted. “A fucking Limbless!”

“Oh, shit!”

Lucy could hold it off, she’d been up against Limbless dozens of times, but it was different when the weight of the job was resting on her. She lashed out with her rapier, trying to keep it at bay.

“Any luck on the Source?” she called.

“Not yet!”

Lucy kept fending off the Limbless, grimacing at the malaise dragging her down. It made her head swim and nausea pull at the pit of her stomach, and she was so off balance that she tripped over a loose floorboard and her rapier slipped from her hand.

“Oh fuck,” she panted, fumbling for the hilt in the dim light. She just needed to grab it before the Limbless got much closer-

Suddenly a violent spray of salt burst through the Limbless, dissolving it away from her. Lucy grabbed her rapier and scrambled up, shocked to find Caitlin standing halfway on the stairs with a small gun in her hand. “Oh thank fuck, it worked,” she said. “I loaded it with salt, it’s going to be a bitch to clean later though.”

“Well, keep doing it!” Lucy said as the Limbless started to reform. “And keep looking for the Source!”

“On it!” Caitlin called.

The salt-loaded pistol ended up being unexpectedly useful. The shots of salt rattled the Limbless enough for Lucy to keep pushing it back with her rapier, and between the two of them they kept it at bay until Lucy found the Source, a tarnished gold necklace with a charm in the shape of a scarab beetle. Caitlin took a final shot at the Limbless with a shower of salt from her gun while Lucy wrapped the necklace in a silver net, and the Visitor blinked out into the darkness.

“Well, we were going to see if you needed any help, but it looks like the two of you managed just fine,” Lockwood said, his voice faintly amused.

Lucy jumped. “Jesus, Lockwood, when did you get here?”

“Not too long ago, we wrapped up early and thought we would help,” he said. “You all right?”

She felt her cheeks turn a little pink at his concern. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“I can’t believe that shooting salt actually worked!” George said. “Where did you learn to shoot, anyway?”

Caitlin laughed awkwardly. “Um…Disney World?”

George blinked. “Not the answer I expected, and yet somehow that makes sense.” He cleared his throat. “But the salt-“

“We’ll talk about that once we’re back home,” Lockwood said. “For now let’s get this wrapped up. Oh, and Caitlin-“ He raised his arm up sheepishly and the sleeve of his coat dangled in tatters from the shoulder seam. His white shirt underneath was a bit ripped too, the edges speckled and splattered with blood. “I might need you to fix this.”

“Oh, see, that I can handle,” she said. The corner of her mouth tugged up in an impish smile. “That’ll take me a while to do, though, so you ought to let Lucy patch you up.”

Lucy felt her face heat up. “Oh, I-“

But Lockwood was already turning towards her with that certain kind of smile he seemed to save only for her. “Would you, Luce?” he said. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course,” she said, and Caitlin shot her a surreptitious thumbs up.

[ariapmdeol]

CoM Predictions/Manifestations/Theories

Involves DLC, Hermit Room, and Interlude spoilers. Putting it under the cut bc it's long lol. Not rly sorted or in any particular organization, just thing I want to happen and some theories and thoughts on stuff!

mostly writing this bc it's quick and easy compared to the metas i'm working on hehe

Kado Orie is the source of the Mirages, using the Harada factor in synergy with his Factor Artifact. He has either a Red or a Green one (SNMT has the Rainbow, and Sueko has the other Red/Green). If i HAD to pick I would assign him the red (due to the color in his design) and that way Lin (N portman) gets the green at some point from his mom

The longer that you're in the mirage, the more you become a 'fictional' character; You start losing your memories... and Miwa is the one who's been in there the longest, and he went in there INTENTIONALLY, which is why he has no memories outside of being 'Dita'.

Similarly, i want Dita to have an identity crisis over whether or not he's "Real". I want him to choose violence <3

This would bring in the "Factors and Definitions" into more prominence too

I want Mutei to be the one pulling the strings/guiding Rui as the protagonist! we let him out of the hermit's room so i think he should cause problems <3

OH also I dont think this will actually happen but. wouldn't it be cool if we could port our post HR save file into CoM and have the Color we gave to Mutei show up in places...

i want shinano and dita to interact pleass please fukao let him meet his blorbo,,,

linano meetup,,, lin meeting dita,,,

LIN BECOMES AWARE OF THE THREE RINGS. (ie setup for joining System.NH). I think as of 2018 he Doesnt Know yet, but i want him to Learn in CoM!!

Utsugi-Harada factor shenanigans....

Kento Sayo joining the "Utsugis paralleling the Magician Tarot card" gang. aka: i want him to morb ^_^ Lineage of the magicians am i right

Golden dawn. They WILL be relevant. It all adds up alright they know TOO MUCH. THEY'RE THE ONES WHO BROUGHT UP THE TREE OF LIFE AND TAROT CARDS so i am desperate to understand them.

in addition to that i did some digging into the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and while yeah they were a real group that existed, the coe parallels are insane.

also i know this is a crack theory but please please let mutei be their founder or something

this is a pipe dream but... Izu interacting with atou and/or sanemitsu. also interacting w seodore.

izu is quite literally the seosane child this is canon. Sanemitsu's the dad Rai is the mom and Seodore is. also the mom

ougughhh please let it be revealed that CoS is a time loop please please please please please please i will cry

what is the hakko theatre troupe. EIGHT lights is there an eighth light out there. is there a secret eighth fragment or is that one seodore. Miwa i have so many questions

I want ryuu to kill. also i want to know what happened to azuma and igarashi. are they dead? alive? busy running companies? what on EARTH DOES SEER OF DREAMS MEAN. IS THAT HIS POWER? DREAMWALKING? CREATING DREAMS IN REALITY?

also Azuma connection to Kado....

Eigha knows about his and Dita's true nature. I want to see him make use of this

ok so. this is dewins theory but we think itd be really cool if Rui's job was to satisfy / fulfill the wishes of the Fragments.

also we have a theory that. Mutei wrote Rui into existence and hes fictional sorry Rui but it'd be funny. This one was Yohann's hehe

ryuu my darling rabbit my babygirl i want you to kill ^_^

i want rui to morb

if the Three Rings get mentioned i will go insane

Eigha's current actor is Shiyo Harada. but he's not on the family tree at all what the FUCK is going on with him

is he really a harada?? is he lying?

also the fact that he's a HARADA chosen by miwa to play this role....... suspicious

i Do Not Trust the cat. Godzylla i do not trust you at ALL. he's too meta there HAS to be something up with him

Ito Yamori is suspicious ....

also of the cast we know about, placing my bets that at least ONE of them is associated With the Golden Dawn.

also i talked abt this before but not publicly-- I think Ryuu is the one who attacked Annie and injured her, leading to her and Seodore working together.

[kyndaris]

Quiet

Almost after the first date, Spring was busy trying to plan the second. Initially, we had settled for a film. Spring, after all, was incredibly intent on watching the latest masterpiece from the director behind Your Name and Weathering with You: Suzume no Tojimari. Unfortunately, the date for when it would arrive on western shores was still a little far off. And so, Spring scrambled to find a replacement film for the two of us to watch in an attempt to keep the time between the first meetup and a second date shorter than three to five months. A considerable period of time - especially if one is hoping to pursue the hope of something romantic.

At first, he suggested Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. A film I had already watched recently with a work colleague in the best (and most expensive) way possible. Yes, that’s right dear readers. I spent $44 to be pampered in Gold Class with its reclining seats and food deliveries! 

Was it a ridiculous waste of money? 

Yes. But it was a nice enough novelty to experience at least once in my life.

But was Spring going to cough up that kind of cash for a unique experience? Hell no!

Running out of options, he then wondered perhaps if we ought to go for karaoke instead. A sudden change from what would have been an innocuous movie outing. Annoyed at his inability to stay the course, I sternly chided him on his decision to switch to karaoke with just two people AND while only on the second date when we were still testing the waters.

It didn’t help that I could already predict the songs he would be selecting. And I did not relish having a sober karaoke session with a man that was already giving me bad vibes. Especially when it seemed that all he wanted out of a relationship was a female version of himself.

That, and the fact that he thought it was a sign of old age to just ‘listen to the radio’ instead of throwing up Spotify to listen to his curated playlist. Reading that text message, dear readers, was enough for me to roll my eyes at the inanity of his ‘observations.’ 

Let it be known here and now that I’ve been listening to the car radio for as long as I can remember. Was 5-year-old Kyndaris ‘old’ because I hadn’t been able to listen to anything except the radio and was unable to put music that I was interested in?

Realising his faux pas, Spring then tried to backtrack, racking his brain for any film that would entertain. But rather than pick a date and review what might be available during those times, he just offered up Black Adam - a film that he had already seen and was about to end its run in cinemas. So, I pivoted to a few other films by checking to see what was available in cinemas in the back half of November. The Menu and Matilda: The Musical were the ones I selected as being the best choices from the paltry selection available. At least for the day that we finally settled on to go on our second date.

Spring was picky about that too. He had hoped for a weekend, but being the busy little bee that I was, I couldn’t find time to cater to his request on the weekend that Matilda: The Musical was showing in cinemas. I did offer up a Thursday but Spring didn’t want to go out on a work night. This was despite the fact that he wanted a Monday date when he had just got back from Europe and therefore had plenty of free time.

In the end we opted for a Friday.

But I still feel obliged to say my piece: Mate, I’m sorry but the world does not revolve around you! And just because I’m ‘flexible’ doesn’t always mean that your ‘preferences’ will come first. Please think about what might be convenient too for other people or compromising should schedules potentially clash!

As you can see, dear readers, Spring had certainly pressed a few of my buttons. And not in a good way.

So, finally after settling for a date on a Friday to watch Matilda: The Musical (Spring was keen to tell me that he had watched two other musicals before. Never, of course, at the theatre, but film versions. Grease and possibly Hairspray? I can’t remember the second one he mentioned), we set up a time to meet up on the day. 

Unfortunately for Spring, bad traffic on the way home meant he was running a little late. By the time he had arrived, I’d purchased a few cheese tarts for my family and already had the movie tickets in my wallet, ready to whip them out as soon as we were asked to show them for entry.

Although he was late, we were still able to sneak in a quick dinner at Sushi Rio located close to the cinemas without cutting too much into the viewing time of the film. After all, there’s always 20-30 minutes of advertisements now before the feature. 

As we were eating our plates of sushi, I happened to glance to my right  and saw a friend and her boyfriend also indulging in a few plates of sushi after a shopping adventure for anime figurines. On the premise of just checking the time, I’d subtly texted her. To my dismay, he was not one to check her phone messages. And seeing that my message had gone unread, I then tried desperately to remain unnoticed. A very difficult feat because, mind you, this was at a sushi train and I had to look in their general direction to see what delectable sushi I might pluck off the conveyor belt. And they were less than ten metres away. 

Suffice it to say, my efforts were in vain.

After they had finished their meal, they approached and said ‘hi.’ Embarrassed a little that I’d been caught on one of my many ‘dates’ to find the one, I don’t recall if I introduced Spring. I do think I might have mentioned that the two of us were watching a film but I didn’t want to exactly define our relationship as yet. In my head, after all, I knew it wouldn’t go much further than this second date if I had any say in the matter.

So, after a brief catch-up chat with the friend and her boyfriend, Spring and I headed into the cinemas to watch Matilda. 

And I’ve got to say, it was an excellent film. While people online have compared it the 1996 classic starring Danny DeVito and Mara Wilson, this was a beast of a different nature. it was an adaption of the stage musical, which was itself an alternate interpretation of the novel by Roald Dahl. The musical itself had visited Sydney a few times though I hadn’t been able to catch it live.

But from the opening number, you could see that it was meant to be a fun, quirky and magical experience. Although I did feel like Matilda’s precognition abilities were a ham-fisted attempt to provide some backstory for Miss Honey. Honestly, Miss Honey’s parents being an escapologist and trapeze artist was just a little...unbelievable.

Still, I liked many of the songs. Be that: Naughty, When I Grow Up, School Song and Revolting Children.

And even Spring was mightily impressed by the dance choreography. He even said that it was more impressive than the cinematic blow-by-blow of superhero films because of all the editing tricks and the green screens. Gosh, my dear readers, wait until he sees musicals live on the stage! Then he’d be really blown away!

Okay, that was probably a little unfair on Spring, but I was already tired of his ‘gosh, work sucks’ attitude and ‘I’m surrounded by such normie work colleagues’ chatter. It just seemed like he simply wasn’t interested in getting to know those around him on a human level. Rather, he’d write them off as one-note side characters in his main story life.

It was honestly not the best experience to see how callous and ego-centric he saw the world. And while he might have explored more of the world than an ex-friend of mine, the narrow way that they perceive the outside world was just tiring to endure. All of ‘his’ observations were apparently new and sudden and unique. No one else was singing his song. And oh, how wonderful would it be if he could just find someone that could like what he liked.

Did I mention that one of the people he dated was someone I knew at university? No? Well, there you have it.

And I’m not sure if it was a red flag or a green flag.

Regardless, when we went our separate ways at the train station after the film, we exchanged a few messages afterwards about the fact that common sense is no longer really ‘common’ anymore and that was about it. I’m not sure who ghosted who but at least it was a mutual one.

And thank goodness for that.

[gigslist]

Society for Theatre Research Conference 2021

The American Society for Theatre Research Annual Conference is an annual event in which theatre artists can explore a specific theme or issue. This year’s conference is focused on the idea of “arousal” and offers a wide range of talks, performances, and activities.

All plenary panels, curated panels, and working sessions accepted in the spring of 2020 have been given the opportunity to share their scholarship in 2021.

Conference Theme

Repetition repeats itself. Theories of repetition inform theatre history across periods, methodologies, theoretical frameworks, and approaches to examining theatre history and historical practices. From descriptions of repetition-with-a-difference and performative iteration to twice-behaved behavior and staged revivals, repetition has become an axiomatic starting point for understanding the complex temporality of theatre—sometimes at the expense of other ways of imagining performance in time and as time. Among other entities repetition might be (an ontological allegory, a rhetorical operation, a signifying chain, a rhythmic pulse, a well of influence, a technology of discipline, a comfort, a nightmare), it is a temporal mode that marks a series or sequence. It is the interplay between linear time—existing on a chronological line where things recur again after they have previously occurred—and cyclical time—since if tomorrow is a repetition of yesterday, then yesterday is already tomorrow and tomorrow yesterday. In toggling between line and cycle, repetition gives us seriality, division, memory, and difference. But there are other ways to contemplate and inhabit difference than via repetition. While appreciating the inestimable value that theories of repetition have contributed to the study of theatre and performance, the conference seeks to center other time signatures that may be related to, but diverge from, repetition. Repetition is but one way that past/present/future can be configured in relation to each other, but it is not the only one. What other temporal arrangements organize theatre and performance? How else does theatre and performance temporalize the relationships between identity and difference, between chronos and kairos, between the past and the present? Are there other ways of understanding difference, power, and resistance that are not necessarily shaped by repetition? What are the limits of repetition for comprehending the historicity and phenomenology of theatre? How do ecstatic temporalities alter the linear and cyclical patterns of repetition? How does performance interrupt repetition, rather than rely on it, for its effects? How have new media technologies changed how we think of repetition and performance? What other lexicons might we develop to understand the relationship of performance to time and history? This conference theme developed out of the first José Esteban Muñoz Targeted Working Group, a multiyear ASTR initiative to increase the diversity of the organization and the research produced under its auspices. The development of the Muñoz Working Groups provides an opportunity for the organization to take stock of the state of the field and the institution of ASTR, shaping both moving forward. Our conference aims to extend the conversations originating from the Muñoz Working Groups to the organization as a whole. Of all the ideas that organize the field’s critical protocols, repetition is almost certainly the most ubiquitous. In the spirit of the Muñoz initiative, we invite submissions that explore how repetition—of performances, institutions, or practices—reproduces institutional exclusion and segregates knowledge production. Proposals that bring minoritarian knowledge and global perspectives to bear on theatre studies and performance studies are especially welcome.

2021 Conference Program Chairs

Soyica Diggs Colbert, Georgetown University Douglas A. Jones, Jr., Rutgers University Shane Vogel, Indiana University

2021 Conference Program Committee

Joshua Chambers-Letson (Northwestern University) Julia Fawcett (UC-Berkeley) Ellen MacKay (University of Chicago) Patrick Maley (Centenary College) Jade Power-Sotomayor (University of California San Diego) Alexis Riley (University of Texas, Austin) Rachel Smiley (AMDA College and Conservatory of the Performing Arts) Catherine Young (Princeton Writing Program) Jimmy A. Noriega (College of Wooster), ex officio

https://www.astr.org/page/2021_conference

[stitching-in-time]

Really long, very personal story

My favorite tea shop is closing next week. It’s hitting me harder than you’d think it would. It meant so much to me. Not just because it had the best bubble tea and baos and potstickers I’ve ever tasted. But because it was one of the first things that was my own little thing I did for myself. It’s a few blocks from my house, and I could walk there myself, and I did, all the time, in the past few years. My house doesn’t have a porch, so I’d walk down to the tea shop and sit on their cute little patio and watch the world on nice days. My neighborhood is full of cute houses with flower gardens, and some of the prettiest gardens are near the tea shop. I love my walks there. I love the feeling of having somewhere to go. I like the nice people who work there. I love being able to have a place I can bring my friends and show them this great little small business with authentic Taiwanese food that’s the gem of my neighborhood that everyone loves. 

It’s weird to lose it after really only recently finding it. I’ve lived in the same house for 17 years. I was here before the tea shop moved in. I remember when it opened- it was actually twelve years ago. I only started going two years ago. I remember driving past it nearly every day, always wanting to go inside. I’d say so, every so often, to my mom, who I used to live with. She’d always say no. So we never went. She said it was too much trouble, it was too expensive, it was totally unnecessary to go to a tea shop. And the thing about my mom, and my relationship to her, is that she is very messed up, and so our whole relationship has always been very messed up too. If you’ve ever seen Disney’s Tangled, Rapunzel and Gothel are me and my mom, exactly. Like down to verbatim arguments we’ve had. So, for most of my life, when my mom didn’t approve of something, I wasn’t allowed to have it, and expressing like for a thing she didn’t like was met with ridicule or hostility. So going to a little shop to buy tea was one of those things that was Only For Normal People, and one of those many things that she deemed simply Not Okay for me to have. So I didn’t. She was the absolute authority, her way was the only right way, you get in trouble if you fight her. So I didn’t. I didn’t drive, since she deemed that an unnecessary thing for me to do, and I had never even walked that far before, or even thought to try. I’d never walked further than around my block in all the years I’d lived here. She told me I couldn’t walk any further, that it would be too hard for me because of my disability, and that it would be too dangerous, even in broad daylight. And I believed her, because I had absolutely no one in my life but her to tell me differently. Her word became my reality, because she either made it too hard to fight for what I wanted, or because I simply never had anyone tell me different. 

And then a few years ago I got back into theatre. And it was like the world slowly started turning from black and white to color. I met people, I started going places with them. Suddenly, walking a few blocks or going to a restaurant weren’t impossible, hopeless, faraway dreams. They were normal things, that normal people just did. No one questioned that I was capable of doing those things. I called all the tech cues in a big old musical at a real live theatre, and if I could do that, I could make my own decisions about where I wanted to go or what I wanted to buy.

Learning to be a normal human was still a slow process though, and I usually went with friends to new places. About four years ago, I asked one of my theatre friends if they wanted to get tea with me at the little tea shop near my house that I’d been dying to go to for 10 years. A meetup with a friend was a legitimate excuse my mom wouldn’t be able to question. And for the first time ever, I went. I must have taken ten minutes standing up at the counter, just deciding what to order. It was so enormous to me, to be able to get whatever I wanted at this magical little tea shop like a Normal Person. I might never get another chance. I was terribly afraid of making the wrong decision, since in my mom’s view, any decision that didn’t turn out perfectly, or at least how she wanted it, was categorically wrong. I still struggle to ignore her disapproving voice in my head with everything I do.

Anyway, after some recommendations from the very patient employee behind the counter, I settled on a mango black tea, which was wonderful. It’s still one of my usuals there. My friend clearly thought I was weird, but was at least being gracious about it. It was a nice little thing I checked off my list, having been to the tea shop once. I’d had my friend drive me there (it was January and very cold/snowy), so I was as yet unaware that it was easily within walking distance.

The rest of that year, whenever I had to meet with someone for a theatre thing, I’d suggest we meet at the little tea shop. It was a great excuse to go there- in my brainwashed mind, I had to have an excuse, since just wanting to go because I liked it was never good enough for my mom, and she would always let me know it.

And then, the pandemic happened. Suddenly everyone was quarantining, right when the spring weather was getting nice. I was feeling cabin fever like anyone else, and without the option to go see friends, the only way to get out of the house was to go take walks outside. By this time, I finally had a smartphone (which had long been another one of my mom’s unnecessary, forbidden items), and so I could actually pull up a map of my neighborhood and see how far things actually were, and how to get to them. Turns out, they were never far at all. I walked all over my entire neighborhood; I found all the parks and restaurants. I learned all the street names, and which houses had pretty flower gardens. (There was a creek and bike path literally two blocks away from my house and I never realized- I can see part of it at the end of my street, from my bedroom window, but in over a decade, I had never ventured any further than a block away to find out what was right there in front of me.) 

And when restaurants began opening up for take out mid-pandemic, I walked to the cafe, and ordered my mango tea. At first, I was only brave enough to go with my friend, when we’d meet up once a month for socially distant, mask-wearing walks. We stopped going once it got to be winter and it was too cold to want to eat outside. My cafe friend and I had a pandemic romance. We broke up in spring, when quarantine ended. I felt very alone and very sad. So I started walking to the cafe myself. And ordering food myself. Because it was fun, and I wanted to. And it made me happy. One of my other friends had a commute that took her past the cafe, so we’d meet up for tea there every other week too. She got me to try new things on their menu. It was wonderful. I could go meet my friends without having to ask my mom’s permission. I could go and buy myself yummy teas and food without her even knowing. I could sit on their patio for an hour or two on a beautiful sunny day and just enjoy the tea and the view. By myself, for myself. It was something that was mine that my mom couldn’t touch or ruin. It was my own space, my own choice, for one beautiful year, last year.

My mom finally moved out this year. I've been wishing and waiting my entire life for that moment, and it was a very complicated and traumatic process, but I was very much looking forward to my new life of freedom, including my little walks to my little tea shop. I was disappointed to find that they reduced their hours by a lot this year; I was pretty sure it would spell the end for them, since I’d seen many restaurants go the way of reduced hours before succumbing to their eventual demise in this post-pandemic world. When I asked a month and a half ago, they said they didn’t know if they would be open past July. When I saw their open sign on again in August, I hoped they might stay open permanently. But when I went in today, it was packed full of people, busier than I’d ever seen it. The kind of line-out-the-door busy that only happens when beloved neighborhood institutions are about to close forever. While waiting for my tea, I checked facebook, and the first post that came up when I searched their name confirmed my fear- they’re closing. They have two days left next week, and then my little tea shop will be gone.

It hurts more than I can really convey. So many memories are there, including those with people who are no longer in my life. My friend that I first went there with was one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. We are not on speaking terms anymore, for reasons that are incredibly hurtful, and even though I’m very angry with them, I also miss them every single day. I feel like another little piece of what we had is crumbling away into the dust with the cafe. I know they’re gone from my life forever, but remembering how they bought me my favorite mango tea for the first time made me feel like they were still a tiny part of my life. 

And sitting on that patio on nice days, with my own little drink and sweet potato bao, made me feel like a normal person for some of the first times in my life. It was my routine, my ritual, my thing, that I chose. My mom couldn’t say no or take it away from me. And after a while, I finally felt like I had the right to be there, and to be happy, by myself and for myself, because I wanted to, for pretty much the first time ever. 

I hoped I would have it forever. I’d literally just figured out the perfect ratio of sweetener to ice to bubbles for the perfect black sugar milk tea last week, after a year of experimentation. They have the best matcha and the best taro buns and sweet potato baos I’ve ever tasted. And their potstickers are excellent too, even if they always get bits of the paper stuck to them from the cardboard containers they put them in. It’s just part of their charm.

I never even liked bubble tea till I had theirs. At my friend’s wedding, her husband brought boba for the wedding party, and I was surprised to taste something other than the dark sticky tapioca bubbles my little tea shop has- I guess I forgot other boba existed. 

There is another Taiwanese restaurant in town, I guess I could try them someday. They’re not walking distance from my house though, and they don’t have the variety of drinks that mine has. Or the same food. Or the same nice staff that would give you a large tea filled all the way up at no extra charge when they ran out of medium cups. Or the green walls with colorful travel photos and paintings by local artists. Or a little cork board filled with flyers for neighborhood events and business cards right by their door. Or a beautiful peaceful patio with tables and benches overlooking my neighbor’s front yards filled with sunflowers and dahlias and zinnias. It won’t be my home away from home.

There are a lot of things about my new life on my own that haven’t happened as I expected. The people who had been my closest friends not being a part of it has been hurtful to the core, and losing another thing I’d come to love, and expected to always be part of my life, is hard. There’s a new cafe being built a few blocks further away that’s set to open next year. I’m glad there will still be a cafe in the neighborhood, but I don’t know if it’ll have a patio, and I don’t know how it could ever compare to my little tea shop. 

I don’t know what will happen to the building when the tea shop closes. I hope another cafe moves in, so that they can keep things looking similar. They’ll probably redecorate, and I’ll miss those funky green walls that have all my memories in them. I’ll miss seeing their sign with their name out front maybe most of all though- even before I ever went there, driving past that sign let me know I was almost home. I’m so sad to lose what I just gained, and sadder for all the years when I could have had lovely tea and been happy, but didn’t, for no good reason except believing I didn’t deserve it. At least now I know I do.  

There are still two more days left. I’m gonna order a large tea and two baos next time. I’ll try not to cry in front of the staff. I hope someday I’ll find another cafe to love as much as this, but I don’t think any other could mean quite as much to me. It will always be my tea shop in my heart.

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (4) (Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: i am absolutely hanging out my arse so editing and re-reading this chapter made me feel vaguely ill. i’ll pass it off as method acting xo thank you so much for the continued love and support for this fic, the fact that each chapter so far has broken 100 notes makes me piss my pants with excitement (watch now i’ve jinkxed it and this one’ll get like 8). in this installment Scarlet finds it hard to believe that she isn’t Victoria Beckham.

Trigger Warnings: explicit drug use, alcohol. unaaay.

Summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree

***

Scarlet had to admit, she was enjoying the high life. As she sat up the back of the lecture theatre in the new fur coat she wasn’t planning on taking off anytime soon, blinking heavily with her £75 lash extensions, drumming her £50 acrylics against her notepad, she smiled to herself. This was definitely the kind of life she was suited to. Okay, she got a bit of a shock when the rent left her bank account, as well as her gas and electricity bills, but she still had a good amount there. Clenching her stomach, Scarlet thought about the number on her banking app. £3713.65. Slightly giddy, she pressed her lips together as she thought about it. How could she have spent over a thousand pounds in the space of two weeks? She thought through it in her mind. Rent, £550. Electricity, £30 split with Ra’Jah. Gas, £25, also split with Ra’Jah. But that only came to what…just under six hundred pounds? There was still so much unaccounted for. Scarlet thought about how much she’d paid for on nights out, the two shopping trips she’d been on since her scratchcard win, and the many, many Ubers she’d taken pretty much everywhere. It was time to reign the spending in.

It was crazy how much confidence it was giving her, though. Even on the group chat Scarlet felt self-assured enough to throw out barbs every so often, the girls all responding with keyboard smashes and capitalised laughter and giving her a boost of serotonin. It had even made her feel more confident around Yvie. Scarlet felt weird about the whole Yvie thing. Now that she’d realised she liked her, she didn’t really know what to do about it. She knew she would do something, she promised herself, as if she ended up in a situation like Vanjie’s she would scream. Scarlet cast a glance to the girl beside her, frantically typing notes into her laptop and listening intently. Bored, Scarlet took her fluffy-topped pen and wrote on her notepad, pushing it Vanjie’s way.

Lunch after this?

She watched as Vanjie looked down at her writing, looked back up, then nodded once. Scarlet smiled, glad that she had something to look forward to. It had been a while since she’d had a catchup with Vanjie, and part of her was excited to see if there had been any progress made between her and Brooke. Scarlet then realised it was a little selfish of her to think that way and, realising she hadn’t confided in anyone about her crush on Yvie yet, she decided she’d let Vanjie in on her secret.

When the lecture finished up they decided they would go for lunch at the Mexican place in town. It was a slightly longer walk than anywhere on campus but Vanjie was good company, chatting away happily about something funny her Mum had done back home and distracting Scarlet from the cold weather. They eventually reached the restaurant and got sat at a table, despite the fact Scarlet could have stood under the heaters that were blasting by the entrance forever. She watched as Vanjie shrugged her huge coat off then leant forward.

“So, how’s your lovely flatmate?” Vanjie asked, Scarlet letting out a snort and rolling her eyes.

“Our oven’s broken. She’s saying I broke it,” she explained, Vanessa tilting her head with intrigue.

“Why? What did you do?”

“I don’t know. Used it to cook food,” Scarlet said, her laugh giving away her monotone voice and causing Vanjie to giggle too. “It’s exhausting living with her! She just hates me for no reason! I swear she’s going to turn up by my bed in the middle of the night with a knife and her pillow to smother me with.”

“But then she’d have no-one to blame for the shit that goes wrong in the flat.”

“True. If I’m ever found murdered, though, you know who it was,” Scarlet raised her eyebrows knowingly, Vanessa having to stop herself from laughing as a waitress arrived at their table and took their drinks orders. Vanessa ordered a Corona and Scarlet almost joined her, then realised that beer on a lunch break when she still had a lecture in the afternoon was risky. She got a blood orange San Pellegrino instead. As the waitress walked away, Scarlet continued. “How’s Silky and Akeria? I’ve not seen them since last Saturday.”

“They’re good. Akeria’s stressing about Masters applications, even though I keep telling her every uni is gonna be fallin’ over themselves to accept her. Silk is fine. She’s always fine. I think she’s made peace with the fact she’s probably going to get a 2:2.”

“Nothing wrong with a 2:2,” Scarlet shrugged, even though she knew that if she was on course for a 2:2 she’d be crying as if her life was over.

“That’s true. Degree’s a degree. Still gon’ cry like a baby if I don’t get a 2:1 though,” Vanessa frowned, brightening up as the waitress returned and put their drinks in front of them.

“You will,” Scarlet said. It hadn’t been a lie- even though she only saw Vanessa working towards part of her PPE degree, she always seemed on the ball with lecture notes, got good grades in her essays, and you could never shut her up in tutorials. The other girl still narrowed her eyes at her as she took a drink.

“You have to say that, though. You’re my friend,” Vanessa said, Scarlet brightening up at the validation of her friendship. She’d never known if Vanessa had liked her at first, but over the years they’d eventually settled into being comfortable with each other. Vanessa sighed. “I worked out that if I want a 2:1 I need to get above 65% in everything until the end of the year.”

“That’s doable!” Scarlet insisted, pouring her can into the glass in front of her. She frowned and shook her head. “Anyway, let’s not worry any more about uni. How’s Brooke Lynn?”

Vanessa slid down in her seat and covered her face with the menu. “I don’t know, bitch, ask her.”

“You know what I mean! How are things going? Any progress?”

Vanessa screwed up her face. “I mean, I don’t know. Kind of? Maybe? It’s so hard to tell with that bitch.”

“What’s the maybe?”

“So last Monday we went for a drink after we went to the library. We were just talkin’ and somehow…I don’t even know how we got onto this topic…we started talkin’ about how we were…y'know, like in bed.”

Scarlet let out a screech. “OH my God. Amazing. How is that a maybe in any way?!”

“Nah, well, you know,” Vanessa smiled bashfully, fanning herself with the menu which neither of them had so much as glanced at. “It started to get deep and then I did my classic ha ha ha what a big joke this is I’m definitely not takin’ this serious in any way thing I always do with her. I think I made it awkward, ‘cuz I’ve not seen her since then. I mean we’ve talked on the chat but…yeah.”

Scarlet pouted, feeling sorry for her friend. “Oh, Vanj, no. It won’t be that at all. You know her and Plastique have got their portfolios due next week, she’ll just be busy!”

Vanessa bit her lip, then smiled slowly. “How about if I organise a lil somethin’ to take her mind off her work, then?”

Scarlet took a sip of her drink. “You’re going to turn up to her flat wearing nothing but a massive bow playing The Stripper through your phone speaker.”

As Vanessa howled, Scarlet realised a little too late that someone had come to take their order. She asked for five more minutes, neither of them having looked at the menu yet and having only used it as a prop for embarrassment.

“No, bitch,” Vanessa wheezed, finally getting her breath back. “Let’s see if we can get her to come out tonight.”

Scarlet felt her brows pulling together involuntarily. “On a Wednesday? She’ll be too responsible.”

Vanessa sighed and gave the menu a cursory glance. “Couldn’t we at least try? I just need to know if I’ve made things awkward so I can go about trying to fix them. Although how the fuck I’d do that, I don’t know.”

“I guess you could put it on the chat?” Scarlet shrugged.

Gleefully, Vanessa bounced about in her chair and grabbed her phone decisively, immediately typing. She put it back face-down on the table almost as quickly as she’d picked it up. “It’s sent. Although now we’re running the risk of everyone being free apart from Brooke Lynn, and if I’m honest I really don’t have the energy to go out otherwise.”

“We’re getting old,” Scarlet shrugged, her eyes scanning over tostadas, taquitos and empanadas without really being able to focus on any of them. “Do you remember the days when you could manage two nights out back to back?”

“I remember the days I could manage two nights out in one night,” Vanessa laughed, running a hand through her hair and exhaling. “Scarlet, why am I nervous? Tell me why I’m nervous.”

“Because you’ve just orchestrated a night out with our whole friendship group just so you can see one member of it. Instead of, you know. Asking her on a date,” Scarlet smiled teasingly, Vanessa laughing in self-depreciation. It occured to Scarlet that she still hadn’t told Vanessa about Yvie. “That reminds me-”

Just then she was cut off as the waitress appeared again at their table. Scarlet couldn’t bear to send her away again so she quickly ordered some fish tacos and some sort of cheesy beany quesadilla she had no idea the other ingredients of. Vanessa rapidly fired off an order for a pulled chicken burrito and pork taquitos which, Scarlet could glean from a quick glance at the menu, seemed to be served with radioactive levels of spice. As the waitress walked away, Scarlet frowned.

“Are those taquitos not really spicy?”

“Meh. I don’t mind spice. Worst case scenario I’ll have to install scaffolding round my ass for the next three days after I eat ‘em,” Vanessa shrugged and then leaned forward, hardly giving time for Scarlet to laugh at what she’d just said. “You said ‘that reminds me’ after we were talkin’ about dates, what’s up with that?”

“Oh uh, nothing,” Scarlet smiled shyly as she picked at a bit of dripped candle wax on the tabletop. “Just that I’m joining you in the crushing-on-my-best-friend club for the foreseeable future.”

Vanessa’s face lit up. “What is this?!”

Scarlet felt cheeks flush red as she said it. “I…think I have a crush on Yvie.”

Vanessa let out a quick screech of delight, drawing the gaze of a dining couple sitting at the opposite side of the room. Hushing herself, she leant close to Scarlet and continued. “Oh my God! Bitch! I love this. This is amazing. Aw, you’d be so cute together! I knew you were touchy with each other but I always thought that was just how your friendship was.”

“It is how our friendship is!” Scarlet protested, then put her head in her hands to cover her cheeks as she smiled. “I just…realised I like being touchy with her a little too much to be friendly.”

“Oh, I got it. You wanna be touchy with her in a different way,” Vanessa winked suggestively, Scarlet squealing in mortification and both the girls ending up howling with laughter. As the laughter died down, Vanessa smiled. “Well, welcome to the world of crushing on a friend, boo. It’s amazing, electric, and largely horrific. And painful. I’m not selling this well.”

“It sounds slightly sadomasochistic.”

“That’s actually what you get if you Google it,” Vanessa nodded faux-seriously, then put on a funny, posh-sounding voice. “If you liked getting shocked by a disused electrical socket twenty-five times in a row, perhaps you’d like: crushing on your best friend!”

Scarlet laughed, then shot a glance down at her phone as it sat face-down on the table. “I’m kinda hoping Yvie comes out tonight too now.”

“Ooh! We should check the chat,” Vanessa said, pouncing on her phone and her face dropping as she looked. Scarlet opened her own to see what had been said.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: me n Scarlet wanna go out tonight who’s down

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH ARE U CRAZY WE AINT FRESHERS ANY MORE

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: I GOTTA DATE WITH BRADLEY WALSH AND WHOEVER THE CHASER IS TODAY

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Girl we all know The Chase starts at 5pm you gotta think of a better excuse

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Sorry boo I’m out

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH BACK TO BACK EPS ON CHALLENGE TV FROM 7 THANK U NEXT

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Need to be at the library early if I wanna get that 1st

Kim Kardashian-West: Placement :((((((( sorry babyyy

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’ll see yall at pres though

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’m guessing they’re gonna be at ours

Okay Then: Sorry girls our portfolios are due in like 9 days

Okay Then: big celebrations after though!!

Dave the Laugh: i’d actually be down

Scarlet felt guilty as her heart gave a jump, Vanessa sitting dejectedly across from her. “Hey, chin up! She’s not replied yet.”

“If Plastique is sayin’ no, she’ll be a no too,” she jerked her mouth to the side in a pained attempt at a smile. “Your girl’s down though, that’s good!”

“Stop. She’s not my girl.”

“Yet,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of disappointment still present in her eyes. Just then, Scarlet’s phone lit up in her hand.

mose: I’m going to follow the tradition of my entire university career making poor life choices and say yeah I’d be up for a night out

Scarlet looked with anticipation across to Vanessa, whose eyes were wide with excitement. She didn’t seem to know that she had a beaming smile on her face, and Scarlet couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, happy for the girl opposite her. “See? Good news!”

“Oh my God. It’s gonna be me, you, Yvie and Brooke Lynn. Fuckin’ double date night out,” Vanessa’s eyes scrunched up as she laughed happily. Scarlet felt her pulse start racing, nerves taking hold of her already. She was excited, though, for some time with Yvie in a slightly smaller setting. She hadn’t grabbed a coffee or done anything with just her in a while, and even though this wasn’t the ideal setting, it was still an opportunity. Vanessa was back typing quickly into her phone, and Scarlet watched the group chat progress.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: yall suck apart from Yvie and BrookeLynn

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: come to mine for 9 then bitches! Xoxoxoxo

Mose: See ya then boo

Scarlet turned over her phone and raised an eyebrow at Vanessa. “You’re her boo.”

“Yeah fuck y’all bitches, I’m Brooke Lynn’s lil’ ghost,” she smiled and gave her hands a quick clap together in excitement, Scarlet spluttering a laugh at her friend’s adorable reaction. Just then, their food arrived and got placed down in front of them.

“Oh hey, can I grab another Corona?” Vanessa asked, holding up her empty one. The waitress took it and nodded, and Vanessa gave Scarlet a guilty look. “I should really head to the library after this but I’mma go back home and nap, then spend the next four hours gettin’ ready. Fuck, I don’t even know how I’m gonna afford goin’ out tonight.”

Scarlet took a bite of a taco, then thought. Lunch was only going to come to about forty-ish pounds altogether, and really, what was that out of her winnings? She swallowed, looked to Vanessa, and smiled.  

“Hey. I’ll get us lunch,” she shrugged, shifting a little in her seat as Vanessa blinked at her.

“Serious? No, Scarlet, I can’t let you do that.”

“Honestly! My loan came in early,” she said, looking down at her plate as she lied. “Think of it as a celebratory, double-date-crush-night-out-whatever-the-fuck-this-is treat. And you can buy me a drink or something when we go out, call it even.”

As a waiter came by and placed another bottle in front of Vanessa, she gave a smile and raised it. “To coming out on the other side of tonight with girlfriends?”

Scarlet smiled as she clinked her glass against Vanessa’s beer. “Let’s not push it.”

The rest of her lunch with Vanessa passed by comfortably, Scarlet paying the bill when they were finished without a second thought and the girls saying goodbye with a hug and an excited squeal in anticipation of later on. Part of Scarlet wanted to head straight to the shops to look for something new to wear but she stopped herself, instead getting in an Uber and going back to the flat, the prospect of her returning to campus for her 3pm lecture growing thin. Turning the keys in her front door, she sighed when she heard loud music coming from Ra’Jah’s room. Scarlet had hoped she’d be out by now. Walking through to the living room to dump her shoes, coat and bag, she paused when she saw something on the messy, cluttered coffee table that she was sure hadn’t been there before.

It was a tiny, clear, plastic ziploc bag filled full of a white powder. Scarlet frowned as she picked it up, transferring the bag between her fingers and watching as the powder inside crumbled and broke up, the same sort of consistency as flour although slightly looser and whiter. The realisation of what she was holding suddenly hit her like a bus, nearly making her drop the bag. She stood silent for a couple of minutes, completely unsure of what to do. Then she heard the music in Ra’Jah’s room get turned up and that seemed to make her decision for her.

Storming back through into the hallway, Scarlet banged on her flatmate’s door. “Ra’Jah!”

The music got cut off and there was an eerie buzz of silence in the flat. The door in front of Scarlet swung open to reveal her flatmate, her face unimpressed. “Yes?”

Scarlet held up the bag, hoping it would elicit some emotion out of the other girl. It did not. “Can you not leave that shit lying around our flat?”

Ra’Jah smiled in amusement, showing a set of slightly uneven teeth. Scarlet felt her top lip curl up in a sneer. Ra'Jah wasn’t able to pull them off, not like Yvie with the cute gap she had between her front teeth. Fuck, was she really thinking of Yvie right now? Ra’Jah leant on the doorframe cockily. “What, a girl ain’t never seen cocaine before?”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” Scarlet lied, gripping the bag tight between her fingers. “I just don’t want the flat looking like a fucking crack den. I mean it’s not a potted plant, Ra’Jah, it’s a fucking class A drug. It’s not decorative.”

“Class A, ooh,” Ra’Jah mimicked mockingly, irritation washing over Scarlet. “Don’t shit yourself, bitch, it’s fine. I only put it down for, like, two seconds anyway. Just give it and I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

Scarlet went to pass it back to her, but something held her back. She looked at the powder again and a flash of thoughts flew through her head, of skinny, glamorous models and nightclub toilets and champagne. It was an illegal drug, and everything Scarlet had been brought up to believe told her it was fucking disgusting, and dangerous, and led to a spiral of addiction and debt. But still part of her was so insatiably curious, like she was addicted without even having tried it yet. She watched Ra’Jah’s expression change as Scarlet curled her fingers back. “Where’d you get it?”

“What is this, twenty fuckin’ questions?” her flatmate snapped back, rolling her eyes. “Just give me my narcotics, bitch.”

“Can I, um. I’ll buy it off you?” Scarlet stumbled out, causing Ra’Jah to look at her in disbelief.

“You want to buy cocaine?” she raised an eyebrow at her, speaking through a slight laugh. Scarlet’s hackles were up.

“Or give me the number of your dealer.”

Ra’Jah let out a small snort, shrugging her shoulders. “Ain’t any need to involve anyone else. Alright, that’s a gram. Give me sixty and it’s a deal.”

Scarlet felt her eyes widen involuntarily, Ra’Jah chuckling in response. “Girl, what did you think it was gonna be? Naomi Campbell snorts this shit for a reason, people use rolled up hundred dollar bills to snort this shit for a reason. It ain’t fuckin’ Cabbage Patch kids weed we talkin’ ‘bout here.”

Scarlet frowned and took out her phone, opening up her banking app. Just before she transferred the money, she looked at her flatmate suspiciously. Ra’Jah rolled her eyes.

“Look, I’m not taking you for a ride. I got it for fifty, a bitch wants to make a profit. Sixty is standard in some places. Others you’d be talkin’ seventy. Google it if you don’t believe me.”

“No, I believe you,” Scarlet simply said, hitting a button and just like that, sixty pounds flew out of her account. A nervous heartbeat felt entirely too fast and too loud in her body. Another hundred pounds gone.

“Thanks, bitch. This was great fun, maybe I’ll drop out and become a dealer,” Ra’Jah laughed, Scarlet saying nothing in reply as the door swung shut in her face. The bag seemed to make her right hand tingle, and a surge of nervous excitement shot through Scarlet like propane.

She got ready for the night ahead in a sort of daze, as the panic and the gravity of what she’d actually done began to sink in. She’d just bought a gram of cocaine for a night out. What the hell was she planning on doing with it? There was no way she’d be able to actually do any. Or was there? That was what Scarlet had always said about weed and now her and Yvie got high together all the time. Her pulse thrummed at her wrists when she thought about the other girl. Scarlet imagined bringing the small bag out in a toilet cubicle with her, watching her eyes grow wide, imagined her thinking holy shit, I never knew Scarlet was this type of girl at all. Imagined them both cutting it up with Scarlet’s bank card and snorting it, then hitting their high on the dancefloor, turning to her and letting Yvie lean in and kiss her in a haze of euphoria and lust.

Scarlet felt a throb of heat pulse between her legs, her doubts gone. This was a good decision.

Scarlet showed up to Vanessa’s flat only running a tiny bit late, ready with a bottle of vodka the size of her head and a couple of mixers in case any of the girls wanted to share. She got buzzed in quickly and was welcomed into the flat by Akeria who was looking a far cry from her usually-glamorous self, her hair piled on top of her head in a towel and a pair of pink flannel pyjamas on. Scarlet was shown through to their kitchen where she found Vanessa, Brooke and Yvie all sitting on the sofa or on chairs beside Silky who was also in her pyjamas and, just as she’d promised on the chat, was watching The Chase. The girls gave a small cry of delight as Scarlet walked in, Scarlet not missing the way Vanessa was sat on Brooke Lynn’s lap. Part of her prickled with jealousy, wishing that her and Yvie were in their place, but she didn’t mind too much. She was happy for Vanessa. Scarlet grabbed a glass, took a chair to sit in, and began pouring a drink as the girls continued to watch the TV.

“Low offer of minus four thousand pounds, high offer, please?”

“Fifty-one thousand pounds.”

“We’re watching The Chase,” Vanessa explained to Scarlet.

“I gathered.”

“If he takes the minus offer, I’m gonna reach through the TV and stab him,” Brooke said seriously, her face displeased.

“Nah, he’s gonna stick in the middle. I trust Nigel, 52, from Stockport,” Yvie drawled, taking a sip of her drink then smiling at Scarlet from her position on the chair beside her, reaching across and squeezing her hand. “Hey, girl, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she smiled shyly, giving Yvie’s hand a small squeeze back and admiring her crushed-velvet red dress. “You look good.”

Yvie momentarily looked as if she was about to say something cute in response when her eyes were suddenly ripped from Scarlet’s and back to the screen as the girls groaned loudly.

“He’s a fucking TRAITOR,” Silky yelled, launching a cushion at the TV. “Sheila brought back forty-five thousand for this asshole to take from it? NO MA’AM!”

“Well this is the most lit pres I’ve ever been to,” Scarlet deadpanned.

“I hate this motherfuckin’ game show. Silk, turn this shit off,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, her flatmate loudly complaining.

“It’s my fuckin’ flat too, hoe!”

“Yeah, some of us actually have to do work tomorrow,” Akeria piped up from her position at the oven, checking on whatever she’d put inside. “How come you’re out tonight anyway?”

Scarlet caught Vanessa’s eye and she just stopped herself from smiling. “Oh, you know. Sometimes you just fancy going out.”

“It’s called being spontaneous, Kiki. You should try it,” Brooke joined in as she brought both hands up around Vanessa’s waist, the other girl giving a happy sigh and Scarlet staring at them, jealousy burning under her skin. As the other girls bickered, Yvie turned to face her again.

“Hey. You alright?” she asked, concern etched on her face and making Scarlet’s heart swell up.

“No, yeah, I’m good!” she smiled, blinking and trying not to come out with the truth of I’m insanely jealous of how close and cuddly Brooke and Vanessa are being right now and I wish Silky would get up off the sofa so we can join them. Satisfied with her answer, Yvie smiled.

“That’s good. No sad allowed at pres,” she joked, then tapped her gently on the nose. “Also you’re not allowed to be upset, you’re, like, my favourite person. Don’t tell the others.”

Scarlet felt something akin to a tidal wave flood over her whole body. Boosted, she gave Yvie a small wink. “I won’t. I promise.”

Something behind Yvie’s eyes seemed taken-aback, but not in a negative way. Almost as if she hadn’t expected Scarlet to come back with something so flirty so quickly, and Scarlet had to hide her smile behind her hand when she saw Yvie’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

Two hours later, all of Scarlet’s vodka had been drank and the four girls had managed to navigate a drunk Uber ride and entry into one of the fanciest clubs in the city. Usually none of them would have been able to afford the entry fee, but Scarlet had paid the ten pounds for each of them without batting an eyelid. She probably should have cared, but Scarlet had hit that stage where the alcohol had her convinced that life was wonderful, she was invincible, and she would be young and rich forever. She laughed as she cast her eye around the small circle the girls had formed on the dancefloor. Vanessa was dancing, frankly, like a stripper, and Brooke seemed to be living for it, her hands on the other girl’s waist protectively. Yvie was bouncing and flailing about, completely intoxicated, and yelling along to whatever song was playing- Scarlet didn’t know it, but she didn’t really need to. Turning to Yvie, she grabbed her hands and laughed. Yvie looked at her curiously.

“You look like those things…those car lot things…they go like this in the wind,” Scarlet explained, suddenly demonstrating to Yvie and throwing her hands in the air. Yvie buckled over with laughter, her hands on her knees, and Scarlet was so pleased she’d made her laugh.

“Bitch you started doing the floss to Miami 2 Ibiza, shut the fuck up,” Yvie snorted, Scarlet howling beside her. Casting her eye again to Brooke and Vanjie, an idea planted itself in Scarlet’s head.

“Yvie, watch me dance like Vanessa,” she commanded, suddenly feeling emboldened enough to throw her arms around Yvie’s neck and push her body up against hers. She ran her hands through the other girl’s hair messily, Yvie’s eyes half-lidded as she laughed gently at her.

“Girl…messing up my hair,” she muttered, Scarlet smiling back brazenly.

“It was messed up when you did it,” she smiled cheekily, tapping Yvie on the nose like she’d done to her earlier. Without giving her a chance to respond, Scarlet dropped down onto the floor in a move she hoped would make her look irresistible. Instead, she toppled over and ended up flat on her back against the sticky floor, the crowd parting around her like the Red Sea. She looked up to see Yvie laughing hysterically, holding both her hands out to her. Scarlet took them gratefully and she was pulled up, beside Yvie again only this time with just a fraction of the confidence. Yvie must have seen her pouting as Scarlet felt her strong arms being wrapped around her in a hug.

“Aw baby, I like your dancing the way it is,” she slurred into her ear, a tingle shooting down Scarlet’s spine at the proximity of Yvie’s lips to her skin. Scarlet was about to do something, say something, when she suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Yvie and dancing beside Vanessa, who was gripping her arm. Scarlet was confused until Vanessa leaned in close to her and yelled above the music.

“I got an idea,” she said, her voice thick with alcohol. “Gonna make them both jealous.”

Scarlet’s eyes widened, an electric shock running through her veins as Vanessa pulled her close, then tilted her head up and kissed her. There was little to no hesitation and Scarlet felt herself kissing back, feeling the eyes of the other girls on them both. Vanessa kissed as if she’d known Scarlet’s lips her whole life, hot and passionate, and it briefly ran through Scarlet’s mind that Vanessa probably had a certain Canadian blonde on her mind as she was doing it. She desperately wanted to open her eyes, to look over to Yvie to see if she even cared. Show over, Vanessa pulled away, beaming and laughing, and Scarlet felt herself laugh back. In her drunk state, the situation was funny- the pair of them getting with each other to try to make their two other friends jealous. It appeared to have worked, certainly in Scarlet’s case, as Yvie took her hand and pulled her back, an odd sort of smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She shouted over the music at Scarlet, something that she couldn’t quite hear.

“What?”

Yvie raised her voice a little more. “I didn’t know you liked Vanessa like that!”

Scarlet laughed. “I don’t!”

Yvie gave her a funny look, a multitude of questions no doubt running around her head. Scarlet felt her confidence peak and she leaned in close to Yvie’s ear, Yvie’s arms snaking round her waist instinctively. “You jealous, girl?”

She felt Yvie’s body shake in a laugh Scarlet could tell was affected. “No…bitch.”

Scarlet leant her head on her shoulder and spoke against her neck. “Hey, 'f you’re lucky it might be you next time.”

She pressed a tiny kiss against Yvie’s skin and pulled away laughing, Yvie looking momentarily shaken then joining in with Scarlet’s laughter. Scarlet ran her tongue over her teeth. Fucking yes. Suddenly, she remembered the tiny bag she had in her bra. She caught the attention of the other girls and shouted over the music again. “Guys. Come pee with me.”

She began to make her way through the crowd to the toilets, hearing Vanessa and Yvie laugh at Brooke singing a parody of Come Fly With Me but replacing the word “fly” with “pee”. They eventually all managed to cram into a cubicle together, Scarlet counting her blessings that there was no toilet attendant on duty who would almost definitely have bundled them all out. The girls looked shocked as Scarlet turned around from locking the door and produced the bag from her bra.

“Is anyone down?” she asked lightly, Brooke letting out a nervous laugh beside her. Vanessa flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“What the fuck is that,” Yvie asked, her face set in a hesitant, concerned smile. Scarlet shrugged.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Vanessa spoke first with a blase shrug. “Yeah, bitch, let’s do it.”

Scarlet smiled happily, part of her quite surprised at how readily Vanessa agreed to the whole thing. Her eyes darted to Yvie, who was still looking at the bag cautiously. Obviously noticing her eyes on her, Yvie gave her a look that Scarlet couldn’t quite decipher, then screwed her face up. “So this is a thing we all do now?”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes at her. “Aw Jesus, Yvie, it’s one key in a club on a night out, we’re not all about to turn into fuckin’ junkies.”

Scarlet’s confidence had been given a knock. She hesitantly caught Yvie’s eye. “I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought-”

“No, girl, I’ll do some. ’M not a fucking pussy,” she frowned, taking a breath that seemed to be shaky and turning to Brooke, who was still looking with wide eyes at Scarlet. “Brooke, you doing this?”

It occurred to Scarlet that this was the first time she’d ever seen Brooke look anything other than completely sure of herself. She was laughing awkwardly, almost nervously. Scarlet watched as Vanessa put a gentle hand on her arm. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“No, well, y'know me. Try anything once,” she slurred, leaning into Vanessa’s touch. “Okay, fuck, let’s do this shit.”

Scarlet moved to empty the bag out onto the toilet cistern, but Vanessa put out a hand to stop her. “Woah, girl, the fuck you doin’? Just take a key, ain’t no need for all that fuckin’ credit card shit.”

Scarlet frowned at her, confused in her drunken state. “Keys?”

Vanessa seemed to shrink back into herself as she saw all three girls looking at her intently, wondering how she knew so much about the process. Wordlessly, she gestured for the baggie and produced her keys from her gold clutch bag. She calmly opened the small plastic bag and fished into it with a single key, balancing some of the powder on the length of it. With a short glance up at the girls, she pressed a finger to one nostril and gave a quick, harsh sniff with the other. As quickly as it had appeared, the cocaine was gone. Vanessa rubbed quickly at her nose, sniffing awkwardly.

“Alright, who’s next?” she questioned. Scarlet could feel Yvie’s eyes on her.

“Well since Scarlet brought it, she should go next,” she said, something off to her tone and her stare that Scarlet couldn’t quite pinpoint. Scarlet shrugged stiffly, Vanessa reaching back into the bag with the key and holding some out for her. The butterflies in her stomach almost overwhelming, Scarlet leaned forward and mimicked what Vanessa had done. The first thing that she felt was the all-encompassing smell of petrol, followed by a horrific stinging at the back of her nose and mouth, Scarlet briefly being reminded of jumping into swimming pools when she was little and water shooting up her nose. She gave a cough and a big, follow-up sniff, Vanessa chuckling lightly.

Well, that just happened.

Nervously thrilled, Scarlet felt the butterflies in her stomach dissipate as she watched Vanessa hold a key out to Yvie. Yvie frowned and shook her head.

“Nah. Changed my mind. I’m out,” she said darkly, shooting Scarlet a glare that made her feel like a reprimanded child.

“Come on, Yvie, it’s fine,” Scarlet offered, the other girl scrunching up her face.

“No. It’s not happening. You guys have fun.”

Scarlet felt dejected. She wished she knew what she’d done wrong. Trying to push her feelings aside, Scarlet watched as Vanessa turned the key to Brooke. Brooke was looking from the key to the lock of the toilet stall, nervous. Vanessa reached up and touched a lock of her hair.

“You don’t have to, Brooky.”

“No, I will, I will. I’m just nervous. And excited,” she stammered out, Scarlet thinking she couldn’t have judged the girls’ reaction to this entire situation less accurately if she’d tried.

“You can rub it on your gums if you don’t wanna snort it,” Vanessa explained, part of Scarlet wishing she’d told her that before her turn. Brooke tilted her head, considering, then wet her finger, reached into the bag and took some. Then she put her finger back in her mouth and maneuvered it around, her eyes on Vanessa.

“You tryna flirt, boo?” the other girl questioned, her eyes half-lidded as she locked eyes with her.

Brooke let out a laugh. “Bitch I’m trying to take fucking drugs!”

Vanessa, Brooke and Scarlet burst out laughing, Yvie shushing them.

“Right, let’s go, junkies,” she said irritably. Scarlet frowned, sad that she seemed to have upset Yvie in some way. An idea came to her as they left the cubicle and wandered past the judgemental line of waiting girls.

“I’m gonna get us a bottle of champagne,” Scarlet decided, sure for a second that she saw Yvie roll her eyes, but she wasn’t too sure.

“Vanjie, does it look obvious we’ve been doing drugs?” Scarlet heard Brooke yell over the music, Vanessa laughing gently.

“Everyone here is on drugs, baby. Just chill. It’ll kick in in a minute,” she winked, taking both of Brooke’s hands and jumping a little on the dancefloor.

Scarlet watched as Brooke’s eyes darted to a security camera on the ceiling. “Guys. They can see us. They know.”

“Brooke, relax, nobody gives a shit,” Yvie rolled her eyes. Brooke turned to Scarlet, panic filling her eyes.

“Scarlet, what was in that? Is it all okay, yeah? It’s not got anything through it?”

“Oh, good. Well done, bitch, are you seeing this?” Yvie glared at Scarlet before she had a chance to reply to Brooke. “Brooke! It’s fine! You’re okay!”

The music seemed as if it had been turned up louder. Scarlet scrunched her eyes closed. “Brooke, it’s fine, okay? I’m going to the bar, who wants something?”

“Ugh, of course you are,” she thought she heard Yvie mutter. Suddenly irritated, Scarlet whipped around to face her.

“And what is that meant to mean, huh?” she snapped, Yvie’s eyes widening a little at being challenged.

“You, bitch! What the fuck is up with you these days?”

“Nothing’s up with me? What is this?!” Scarlet cried, a couple of heads turning their way then slowly turning back. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as if she’d just drank fifty Red Bulls back to back, although she was unable to tell if this was the effect of the drugs or just how annoyed she was.

“Something’s off with you. Fucking…cocaine, champagne, this constant…buying everything for everyone like we’re all charity cases, behaving like you’re a fucking extra off Gossip Girl? This isn’t you, Scarlet!” Yvie yelled back, suddenly grasping her by the wrists and giving her a shake. “The normal Scarlet would have shit herself at the thought of doing a key, the normal Scarlet would want to go to Levels and pay a pound for entry instead of going here to dance around with a bunch of fucking Love Island rejects!”

Yvie’s words stung harshly at Scarlet’s heart. She knew the other girl could sometimes grow argumentative when she was drunk, but Scarlet had never had it directed at her. It wasn’t nice. Scarlet felt her tone switch a little as she spoke. “Yvie, you’re being kind of a dick.”

Yvie gave a laugh of disbelief. “Well breaking fucking news, Scarlet! So are you! I mean do you have any idea how shitty it is to see your best friend grow into a total asshole over the space of two weeks?”

“Guys,” Vanessa suddenly interrupted out of nowhere, and Scarlet had no idea how long they’d been fighting or at what volume. “Me and Brooke are gonna go. She’s not doing well.”

Yvie looked at Vanessa, panicked. She cast Scarlet one last withering look before dashing through the crowd, presumably to pick up their jackets. Scarlet felt a bubble of upset prick at her throat. She turned to Vanessa instead. “What’s happened?”

“She thinks she’s having a heart attack. I mean, she’s not, it’s just the drugs, but I’m still worried about her,” she frowned, biting her lip. Vanessa jerked a thumb back to where Yvie had slinked off. “The fuck was that all about?”

Scarlet shook her head silently, not trusting herself to speak unless she began to cry. She didn’t understand how she’d managed to fuck everything up so badly. Vanessa saw her upset and pulled her in for a quick hug.

“Baby. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

The four of them got their coats and joined the taxi queue in a blur. Yvie wouldn’t even look her way, and Scarlet didn’t trust herself to try to speak to her in case she managed to make things even worse. She seemed more concerned about Brooke anyway, who was chattering away, her teeth clicking together in the cold night air.

“Is the taxi driver going to know? Will he just drive us to the police station and hand us in? Do you think he’ll phone the police? What if the police were to just come here right now and say they’re giving random drug tests to everyone in the line? What if-”

“Oh my God, what if you shut the fuck up?” Yvie snapped, Brooke looking taken-aback. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Brooke’s waist protectively.

“Brooky. It’s alright. The police aren’t coming, the taxi driver isn’t gonna turn us in. We’re going back to your flat and we’ll get you into bed safe. You’ve got us, nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Brooke let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a sob. She buried her face in Vanessa’s hair. “I love you, V’nessa.”

Scarlet saw something shut down behind Vanessa’s eyes as she squeezed Brooke tightly. “I love you too, baby.”

Scarlet couldn’t stop herself from casting her eyes across to Yvie, selfishly longing. If she hadn’t fucked everything up, maybe something could have happened. Now, though, it looked as if she’d have to piece their friendship back together, never mind anything more.

The line moved up, and they found themselves at the front. Brooke and Vanessa spilled in, then Yvie. Scarlet went to join them when she found the door getting pulled across in her face. Yvie scowled at her. “No. You’re not getting in with us. I don’t even want to speak to you right now.”

Scarlet could hear Vanessa protesting. “Yvie, for fuck’s sake-”

“You’re not coming with us, bitch. Make your own damn way home,” she reiterated, slamming the door shut.

As the taxi sped away, Scarlet couldn’t fix the slack-jawed look of complete hurt she could feel on her face. As the reality of what had just happened sank in, she felt her face crumple like a paper bag as she began to cry, stood on her own at the taxi rank in the small hours of the morning, and all she could do was wait.

[homeschoolbase]

RANT: I'm not required to enjoy this time---no one is

RANT: I'm not required to enjoy this time---no one is

I'm so frustrated by 2 crowds of people I feel ambushed by.

People who have their lives turned upside down by kids at home rather than traditional school and saying that I have it easy and that nothing has changed. (clue, it's NOT the same)

Homeschoolers who are turning this into a moralistic issue around parents not loving their kids enough to want them around, schooling before middle school, or how they did it first/best. (clue, this isn't a race...nor is there any right way for any particular family)

My kids ARE missing out, too. We DO have it easier because we have our regular academics. But we are doing none of the educational stuff that makes homeschooling what it is. No homeschool library classes. No all-school afterschool library classes. No community sports or theatre. No coop. No 4H. No gym. No "work/play" lunch meetups. No OT/PT. It just sucks. My kids are frustrated.

​

Yes, we are lucky, we are fortunate we are able to afford me to work part time from home (although now with businesses cutting back, I'm getting less work AND clients are demanding things more when it's good for them, not for me). Yes, it is good that we don't have to super stress about money or who is watching the kids.

​

But it's a time a crisis for everyone. My kids are not "all the better" for it. Neither is my family. Yes, we will get through....probably much better than others.

But it's NOT some good and magical time.

[dxmedstudent]

Thanks, Facebook!

I’ve been going through my facebook suggested friends list and I was struck by how... distinct the categories were. And how odd. I really wish it would just let me disappear people once and for all, because it feels like it is always trying to get me to add the same people. Or maybe it’s not the same people but it always seems to come up with so many. The first category was... people I have so many mutual friends with. But just because I have 32 friends i common with someone, doesn’t mean I know them. My year at med school had over 300 people in it, and I’m a faceblind introvert who minds her own business. There is no way I have had meaningful interactions with all these people, no matter how many mutual friends we have. Medicine, in particular is a small world, and we all know a lot of people, but I don’t see why I should add every person I shared a lecture theatre with, or shared a hospital with. I’m so glad that I block people I stop talking to, because I can foresee lots of now-defriended exes being recommended to people purely because of mutual friends. I can see why their algorithm would assume I must know these people, or even be very close with them, but the’res a difference between ‘these friends all hang out and therefore probably know each other’ and ‘these 40 people work or go to university together, so they’ll all want to ‘friend’ each other. Sometimes I really have no clue who these people are. Most of the time, actually. Occasionally, I do, but I know them so little that I might as well not know them at all. There are a lot of not-particularly-close-friends’ siblings, cousins, partners whoI have never met, and may never do so. And parents, though friends’ parents tend to the the kinds of people who love to add you on facebook, and you can’t say no because you do think they are OK but this is all sort of a bit weird.  Even if it’s a close friend, I may I love my friend and know their sister, doesn’t mean I need their grandmother or aunt or friend I’ve never met, on my facebook. Maybe we’ve met a few times, and they are a friend of a friend, but we’re not really close and I can’t imagine they need to see my hilarious museum photos ported from instagram. Sometimes it’s other people’s partners - who I’ve never met, even if we do have friends in common. I can’t really see any good coming of me adding everyone’s husbands who I don’t even know, no matter if we have a few mutuals. I’m fairly sure most people I know aren’t that weird kind of possessive jealous partner who vets their partner’s FB friendlist, but I can imagine that in friend circles things might get awkward. That reminds me of the threatened dating app feature of facebook; particulary the ‘crushes’ element where people can nominate people they know. Given that  if you’re a grownup avoiding confessing your feelings, it’s probably for a reason, it just seems really ill-thought out. And even if you are going to have an affair, it probably shouldn’t be conducted on social media sites with a patchy privacy history. It’s all just deeply weird and I hope facebook doesn’t try to integrate whatever they are planning in any intrusive fashion. There are also people I know but I’m not adding for a reason; people I don’t like, people I used to like but it wasn’t reciprocated, people I’ve had beef with and are now no longer in my life, and anyone who I might have gotten to know through them. The most awkward of these is an ex-friend’s current girlfriend. I’ve met them, and I’m sure they are a lovely person, but I really think that’d be more drama than I could handle. Others are just people I thought were OK, but just never gelled with well enough to let them in on my life. Or people who seemed OK in university, but after years of not really talking, there’s just... not much to say? To be honest, I’ve been having the strong urge to go on a bit of a social media cull and just... quietly restrict my circle to people who are meaningful to my life right now. I’ve been resisting, but really, I do want to pare things down. I do like when it picks up friends from work, though facebook often doesn’t pick up the people I necessarily want to add, rather, it picks up the people who seem to add everyone. The people I want to add are often a bit more reserved, and I am always left wondering if I’m intruding by ‘friending’ people from work, partly because I myself am quite a private person who doesn’t want to let many people in. People rarely make the cut these days, but every once in a while I make friends that I really want to carry with me after I’ve moved hospital and changed place. I’m a bit shy when it comes to adding colleagues on Facebook; I have to feel pretty comfortable with a colleague before they make the jump to a highly curated version of my profile. And consultants? Never make the cut. You do not make friends with your boss. There’s a whole slew of older relatives I’m very deliberately not adding. They can live their own life, but I don’t particularly want to be their entertainment when it comes to the rumor mill, I am fairly sure my cousins curate their facebooks even more rigidly, for the same reasons. When I can tell you that some of my relatives are known for being both extremely talkative, nosy and blunt to the point of offensiveness, you can see why I might not want them nosing around my every post; it’d just make things less fun. There are some relatives whose suggested profles or friend requests are currently being considered, as I try to work out if my current privacy setting for relatives is restrictive enough to make me happy to add them. It’s not even like I add anything particularly controversial or salacious on facebook, I am what most people would describe as a boring person.  I just don’t feel comfortable with opening up my profile to lots of people, and I don’t want to feel self-conscious if I put something up. I could say that it’s my issue, but given that my relatives are pretty blunt (see any of my ‘why aren’t you getting married?!’ posts), my self-consiousness with relatives has a pretty obvious cause. I do however, like to use facebook to keep up with some relatives and family friends; living abroad and doing my own thing means I don’t see some people who I really care about as much as I would like to. And whilst anyone who is really close to me is actually on my Whatsapp, there’s a place for people who aren’t my best friends or immediate family in my life. If I’m honest, my facebook mainly exists for keeping up with people like that; who I care enough about that I like to know they are doing well, and that I can catch up with them once in a while, but we’re not on whatsapping terms. And also for some of my best school friends who never seemed to get the hang of regular texting or  whatsapp or even email; for some of them, these only exist to arrange meetups, where real interaction happens. Being a busy person with a horrible timetable, that is personally the opposite of how I feel, but I try to keep up with their lives as best as I can. Facebook did pick up the guy that I’m seeing; no mutual friends so I was a bit surprised at first.  I assume it uses information from instagram and Whatsapp, which we prefer because unlike facebook they allow you to conduct your love life discreetly, rather than entertaining your friends and relatives like the local panda breeding programme. We discussed ages ago that we’re both not fussed about social media, and since update each other often and spend lots of time together IRL, it wouldn’t really add anything apart from old holiday photos, embarrassingly dorky comments and likes from 15 years ago and my slightly embarrassing fanart photo albums (Oh god, don’t dump me because of terrible, terrible Naruto fanart, I’m begging you! I can change!) there’s no rush. Thinking about it, I’ve already seen his old holiday photos, so I’m good for now, thanks. Don’t get me wrong; he’s wonderful and I’d have no issue with him being on my profile, he could see what he likes and I’d be happy to be ‘connected’ to him. But there’s no privacy on facebook from your extended social circles.  We’ve reached the point where the people in our lives have heard of the person, but haven’t gotten to know them, and I feel it’d be gentler to introduce each other in each others’ lives much more fully before our friends and family start judging the person we are dating due to their truly mediocre selfies or choice of likes on facebook. I avoid having my older relatives on facebook partly because I know they’d be tittering every time I added a male friend or (heavens!) a man wrote a comment, so.. just no. I just hope he doesn’t come up as a random suggested to anyone close to me; that seems the kind of thing FB’s creepy algorithms could throw up. That’s because for me, the weirdest category of recommended friends, by far is people who I do know but have no mutuals with, and who I’ve never interacted with on social media- I don’t even have their number. We’ve never shared so much as a whatsapp message. By reasonable standards, they should not be suggested to me, and yet, here they are by some dark force I cannot understand. I can sort of see how some of my distant cousins might be picked up by Facebook’s algorithms, but FB is also giving me colleagues who it really shouldn’t know I know. I don’t ever have my place of work on FB, don’t list my location (though it might be mentioned - not geotagged - on some photos) and we have no friends in common. It’s funny that I actually quite like some of these people, so occasionally they make the jump, but I just find it weird that FB has figured out we know each other. I wonder if it’s due to geographic location? It does make me a little afraid of how good the algorithms are getting. There’s also people it thinks I know that I do not. No mutual friends. No similar geography. I assume they must be people a couple of degrees of separation from either uni friends/ colleagues or relatives, but I fail to see why facebook even tries to sell you these people. Where do they come from? Who knows. Anyhow, I’d love to hear whatever awkwardness FB is selling everyone else, or if someone actually understands their friendship algorithms.

[misty-avalon]

Thanks for tagging me @babsgordnn

Rules: Tag 10 followers you want to get to know better. (sorry I gotta make this quick I got some irl things I need to do)

• Name: Misty-Avalon

• Gender: am a girl

• Star sign: Virgo

• Height: kinda short

• Age: young adult

• Wallpaper on my phone: Lockscreen is the promo poster for BTS’s recent muster. Homescreen is a BT21 poster.

• House: Ravenclaw

• Ever crush on a teacher? No. First of all, that’s just straight up weird and wrong because you’re talking about a possible minor crushing on an adult who’s probs at least 15 years their senior. Second of all, I was too busy crushing on someone my age.

• Coolest Halloween costume: Never dressed up for halloween but as a smol kid I would always dress up as my fave japanese character, Chibi Maruko Chan. I even got choppy bangs just to look like her.

• Favourite 90’s TV show: As a tiny toddler I probably would’ve screamed ‘Barney and Friends!’ but then I got a little bit older and from then till now my fave 90s show is the Wild Thornberrys.

• Last kiss: I used to kiss my mom on the cheek when I was a smol child. Never kissed anyone romantic-wise.

• Have you ever been stood up? Can’t get stood up if you can’t get a date ha! Although there was this time I went to see HP and the deathly hallows pt 2 and one of my friends completely forgot about the meetup so does that count?

• Favourite pair of shoes: my comfy sneakers

• Have you ever been to Vegas? No. Would love to though. Not to gamble but sightseeing.

• Favourite fruit: Mango (but the yellow skin variety, I hate the reddish-green skin kind)

• Favourite book: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I like all HP books but I like this one a smidge better. HP and the philosopher’s stone is a close second.

• Most stupid thing you’ve ever done: I’ve done a lot of stupid things. Most of them are simply because I just didn’t realise how much planning you do need to do in order to be a functional member of society. Other than that a stupid thing I did/do is that I can be a bit unintentionally distant. I’m always worried about being overly attached to people and I don’t want them to think I’m desperate or anything so I do a brilliant job of pretending like I don’t care about the person because I have absolutely no idea how to balance out closeness and distance. This plan completely backfired on me, I was angry, I cried, it wasn’t great. So anyways, communication is key!

• All-time favourite shows: Teen Titans, Young Justice, Jackie Chan Adventures, The Wild Thornberrys, W.I.T.C.H (so sad that this only had 2 seasons, it deserved more), The Flash (my live action fave but starting to get some disappointing episodes lately, writing westallen interactions on Barry’s end needs work, and Devoe is a bit of a boring villain)

• Last movie you saw in theatres: I think it was Frozen lmao that means I haven’t been to the theatres since end of 2013 hahaha. Only because nowadays I know exactly which movies I’ll like and which ones I don’t so it’s honestly just better to wait for the dvd release.

[powerdragonmoon]

Matinee

After another long and grueling morning, Marinette finds some comfort in an empty theatre, treating herself to a matinee showing of one of Adrien Agreste's latest pictures.

This is a quick oneshot/birthday present for the lovely, beautiful, and amazingly talented @edendaphne --her birthday was on the 12th but be sure to send her all the best wishes and love!! 

I based it on her Miraculous Ladybug Gangster AU (Click here for her awesome post about it!!)

(ao3 link)

Marinette settled into one of the many available chairs, relishing the soft plush  seat along with the still quiet and darkness of the vacant theatre. Monday morning matinees always seemed to lay in their own void within the universe, offering Marinette some much needed peace after another morning of hard work at the bakery. Her muscles ached from kneading dough, carrying bags of flour, and running back and forth between the kitchen and front counter—not including the general burden on everyone as they tried to make due with living in the time of the Great Depression. Money was scarce and because of it, Marinette found herself working around the clock in order to make ends meet.

So as she caught the familiar sound of the projector starting up, Marinette rolled her shoulders and stretched out her neck. She took off her jacket, laying it over the seat beside her. A familiar feeling of guilt rose up in her gut as she thought about the price of her ticket, as it usually did on her almost-weekly-now visits, but she suppressed it. She had earned this.

Or perhaps, Ladybug had earned this...

But Marinette was Ladybug after all.

And with the latest profit from the latest Miraculous heist, the outlaw duo of Ladybug and Chat Noir had not only been able to save a foreclosed orphanage, make a generous donation to an understaffed hospital, and assist a local soup kitchen for citizens in need, but Marinette also had enough money left over from her gradual deposits into her parents cash drawer to allow her this luxury: going to watch a film.

And not just any film.

An Adrien Agreste Picture.

So she relaxed, enjoying the quiet of the empty theatre. In front of her, stretched out across the screen a pre-show short ran—a silly little animation about a troublesome cat—and she smiled.

From behind her, she heard the distant sound of the theatre door opening and closing, but she paid it no mind, even as the sound of steps neared closer and closer…

Even as a gloved hand landed on her shoulder.

No, Marinette didn’t even flinch, fully expecting to find the armed and dangerous, one of Paris’ most wanted criminals, Chat Noir, smiling down at her.

Without even sparing him a glance, Marinette whispered, “You’re late!”

She turned as she heard him jump, watching in exasperation as he hopped over the seats from the row behind her.

“Why are we whispering?” he answered as he settled into the seat beside her, his usual black suit jacket replaced with a dark grey trench coat, the collar of it turned up to graze his chin, as if to add an air of anonymity to himself. Marinette scoffed at the thought, as if that wasn’t already clear from the black mask he wore and his signature trilby hat—the black ribbon of which wrapped about the brim, comedically peaking into two points above his head, mimicking cat ears

“Because we are in the theatre!” Marinette muttered, a little more loudly than before.

Chat Noir dramatically looked around them, craning his neck and laughing, “Sorry Princess, but looks like it’s just you and me today…as usual”

Early weekday matinees didn’t seem to attract very many movie-goers, and it was something that both Chat Noir and Marinette had long since come to appreciate. Their almost weekly meetups gave them both a break. For Marinette it was a break from the hustle and bustle of working tirelessly, helping her parents failing business, the rest of her free time was easily  eaten away by her vigilante escapades and side business of seamstressing.

For Chat Noir, it also seemed like a much needed reprieve from whatever these hard times were plaguing him with. Marinette knew better than to ask. And she found herself enjoying this side of him. He was calmer, quieter—albeit his signature flirting and knack for puns shone through every once in awhile. But it was a side that Marinette didn’t see that often from her partner, and it was in this odd friendship that they both seemed to find some solace.

And so Marinette smiled, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small package from the bakery. “Well,” she said, tucking her purse away on the empty seat beside her, “I guess since it’s only us, I’ll have to share.”

“How about a trade?” Chat Noir answered.

Marinette turned, finding that familiar mischievous grin on his face. In his hand, he held out a single pink rose.

Laughing, she reached out for the flower, her fingers tangling with his for a moment before she offered him the box of cookies, which he quickly accepted.

“One rose for a dozen cookies?” she said, arching an eyebrow, “I know the economy hasn’t been it’s best, but I feel like I’m being cheated here somehow…”

“Last time you said, ‘less is more’ remember?” he pouted.

“That’s cause you basically stole an entire flowershop last time!” Marinette giggled.

Chat Noir laughed, “I was trying to make a good impression! It was a date afterall!”  

“For the last time it wasn’t a date!”

“Well forgive me if I want practice before My Lady finally accepts my offer of proposal!”

Marinette was forever in debt to the dark dim lighting of the theatre. It hid the blush that rose to her cheeks.

“I-well, it’s…! Uh…” She couldn’t quite think of a proper response, guilt flooded her senses and stared in disbelief at the wistful look on Chat Noir’s face as he looked off, not even paying attention to the show in front of them. It was a look she had seen before and it told her exactly what he was thinking about...his Lady, Ladybug, who was Marinette, and sitting right beside him.

She knew she shouldn’t have kissed him during that whole Dark Cupid debacle.

“What can I say?” he smirked, finally coming back to his senses to turn back towards her, “At least I wasn’t caught red handed!”

Marinette caught herself from staring too long at his lips to stubbornly look away, trying to pass it off as being put off by another one of his puns. Instead, she felt the ghosting memory of the touch of his lips on hers and jumped, turning back when she heard him speak once more.

“Get it?” he continued, unaware of her troubles, pointing to the pink rose in her hand, “Cause it’s pink—not red! Come on! I know you like pink! Didn’t you say—”

In front of them an opening crescendo of music burst, giving Marinette a welcome distraction from the thoughts and memories running through her mind.

“Shhhhhhh! It’s starting!” she said as she pressed a hand to the mouth that was causing her so much trouble and turned to face the screen.

Under her hand she felt his lips move, “But you’ve already seen it!”

Marinette dropped her hand as the opening credits began, totally deaf to Chat Noir’s annoyed muttering.

Her eyes locked on the first name to light up the screen.

Adrien Agreste.

She could feel Chat Noir’s eyes still on her and her blush intensified. Without even looking his way she crossed her arms and muttered, “Just eat your cookies!”

On the screen Adrien came into frame, his bright smile breaking through the black and white projection to add colour into Marinette’s life.

She still remembers the first time she saw him. How lovely his was walking into her parent’s bakery and how brilliant and green his eyes were. She had no idea who he was, but was immediately drawn to his friendly, shy demeanour. His visits became more and more frequent until it was almost everyday that he would stop by for a quick breakfast, and each day he would make her mornings brighter.

It wasn’t until weeks later that Alya shouted at her that he was the Adrien Agreste, movie star extraordinaire. But by then it was too late, Marinette had long since fallen head over heels for the man with the golden hair and a sunshine smile.

The movie started, a quiet story about young love and loss. And the pair fell into their usual silence, Marinette enjoying the film play out before them, while Chat Noir quietly munched away at his gifted cookies. Every once and awhile he would whisper something in her ear, a witty comment, some extra tidbit of information about the film, or another terrible pun that would garner a scoff from Marinette, or in a few cases uncontrollable giggles.

Until soon enough the film started to come to a close. On screen the story became a sombre love story that ended in tragedy. And Marinette felt her eyes dampen as she watched Adrien’s character fall deathly ill. Even though she had already seen this film countless times, she couldn’t hold back the tears for much longer, they easily escaped, running down her face as she watched, mystified by the performance before her.

“He doesn’t look that sick—”

Chat Noir paused, eyes wide as he caught the tears on her face, Marinette laughed in embarrassment, bringing her hands to wipe away her tears, not able to meet his eyes.

Then his gloved hands were on hers pushing a soft handkerchief into her palm, which she reluctantly accepted with a grateful smile.

He really was the greatest, too sweet, and unfailingly nice. As the film came to a close, Marinette laid her head on his shoulder, using his handkerchief to catch her tears. Chat Noir seemed to respond in kind, gently lifting his arm to wrap around her.

It wasn’t until later as Marinette was walking out into the early afternoon sun, the dust of Paris greeting her once more, that she realized she had forgotten to give Chat Noir his handkerchief. She patted the used cloth in her coat pocket making sure that it was there and reminding herself to wash it before returning it back to him next week…

Which meant she failed to notice the fancy monogram at the corner…at least for the time being.

A.A.

[rickchung]

May Days 2020

Metro Vancouver Events Calendar:

Now-May 31: Hot Docs at Home Festival

Now-May 10: Rumble Theatre: Good Things to Do

May 1, 8 & 23: Red Truck Beer Company Live Music Nights

May 1: A Night of Comedy benefitting New American Economy

May 2-Oct. 24: Riley Park Farmers Market @ Nat Bailey Stadium (every Saturday)

May 3-Oct. 25: Kitsilano Farmers Market @ Kitsilano Community Centre (every Sunday)

May 4-July 31: BMO Vancouver Marathon (virtual race)

May 5-7: Small Business BC Digital Meetups

May 7: VIFF Creator Talk: Alex Gibney / Hot Docs at Home on CBC: Meat the Future

May 8-Oct. 12: Richmond Night Market @ River Rock Casino

May 9, 16, 23 & 30: VAFF Industry: Diversity in Filmmaking Virtual Panel Series

May 11-17: Vancouver Comic Arts Festival

May 13: VIFF Creator Talk: Chris Mundy, Ozark

May 14: SFU Public Square: The Arts Matter!

May 16-July 18: Indian Summer Festival (digital season)

May 16: Club Virtual

May 20-31: rEvolver Theatre Festival

May 21-24: Rumble Theatre: B

May 22-24: Ladner May Days

May 23-Oct. 24: West End Farmers Market @ Comox Street (every Saturday)

May 24-Oct. 25: Mount Pleasant Farmers Market @ Dude Chilling Park (every Sunday)

May 25-31: Vancouver Children’s International Festival

May 29-June 7: Vancouver Craft Beer Week

May 31: BCHF Hospitality Hustle

[gursimran-k]

10 Meetups About Concrete Contractor Salary You Should Attend

By regulation, we are required to tell you that you consent to currently being contacted regarding your task immediately after finishing the shape. We is not going to Call you with anything else.

Once the concrete for the slab or driveway is poured and starts to established, your local concrete contractor will finish the area. They’ll utilize a broom to generate a roughened, less complicated-to-grip floor for outside areas, or maybe a trowel to make it smoother for indoor flooring.

Concrete blocks and paving slabs are often Minimize, which are rather thick. This causes it to be tougher for unskilled workers to accomplish such a work, necessitating only industry experts to make it happen. This necessitates house entrepreneurs and project managers to make sure that They may be employing really skilled and professional workers in managing this sort of work.

Industrial establishments also purpose for a similar reasons considering that they are not only durable but appealing at the same time.The thickness on the countertop will depend upon the amount of It's going to be utilized on a regular basis. The types of objects that may be place along with the counter can even figure out its thickness and the kind of material to be used in installing it by concrete countertop contractors.

Softer types will probably be much easier to drill considering the fact that they won’t just snap or crack. Far more strong kinds will possibly be as well hard to drill or could have the likelihood to crack because it can not bend. Thinking about the categories which were used in creating the constructions that need to be drilled is probably the things that Expert concrete drillers are fantastic at. This causes it to be far better to hire the pros as an alternative to property proprietors striving to perform the job as a result of do-it-on your own.

The Conco Businesses have been offering the ideal value on concrete services and products while in the greater L.A. area since 1959. We're honored for being a Portion of lots of noteworthy tasks like the Nokia Theatre, and ended up not long ago awarded work over the historic Los Angeles Hall of Justice.

Identifying the sort of stain  will help eliminate it in the speedier way. Figuring out the sort of concrete that ought to be cleaned will likely support make the work a whole lot less complicated Because the right type of cleansing remedies can be used. This will protect against harming the construction and can help eliminate the stain quickly.

• Do they use only their unique staff, or do they hire subcontractors, and if so, what are the names of Individuals organizations?

By regulation, we are necessary to tell you that you consent to being contacted about your project right after finishing the shape. We will not likely Get hold of you with anything else.

If that is so, how deep a mattress of crushed rock? (It's important to learn this as it's a explanation why cost quotes may well differ which is how inexpensive paving corporations only seem to be low-priced in comparison to one that's doing extra labor for just a task that hold up superior or lasts extended).

Then they’ll buy a concrete shipping and delivery, ensuring your concrete is mixed constantly, then poured throughout the form guides. They’ll utilize a shovel to ensure the concrete fills out each edge and corner and take away air pockets. Eventually, they’ll use a screed to level out the concrete, utilizing the formwork to be a tutorial.

To start with, You will need to be at the very least eighteen years of age and have had 4 decades of construction practical experience throughout the last 10 years (or two many years of work experience furthermore a four-12 months college or university degree).

Regardless of what concrete combine you decide on, we are able to supply! We're your selection for all essential projects. From merchandise range, combine design to shipping and delivery logistics, it is possible to rely upon us to supply the complex guidance to the construction job.

Refractory cement is made out of elements which can face up to warmth a lot better than everyday Portland cement. Made from calcium aluminate, fireplace clay, ganister and aluminum, this kind is Utilized in creating brick ovens.

[davewakeman]

Talking Tickets 13 March 2020--Coronavirus!

I send this email out each Friday morning. You want this deliver, FREE! Sign up here! 

Hey There! 

Wow! What a week!

I know the next few weeks are going to be rough for everyone. I’m not sure exactly what that will look like for folks, but I want to be here to support everyone as they work through what is going on during the coronavirus crisis and the economic meltdown that is accompanying it.

To that end, I’m going to do a few things:

If any of you just need someone to chat to, give me a call or shoot me an email. You can call, text, or WhatsApp me at +1 (917) 705-6301 and my email is dave@davewakeman.com.

If you are around DC, let me know if you want to get together in person to talk through your contingency plans or special challenges. 

I’m going to host an online meetup with executives to talk through shared challenges and developing strategies for moving forward as this pandemic plays out. I’m going to look to do that at the end of the week, so if you are interested…send me an email so I can coordinate folks in many countries. 

For your sales and marketing teams, I’m going to be posting a few free webinars ASAP on selling in challenging times, increasing your prospecting opportunities, and strategies to enter new markets. I’ll be looking to do things for the sports folks, the theatre folks, and the secondary market. You’ll be able to find those by visiting my website www.davewakeman.com and I will post them regularly on my blog. 

I’ll have more…but all of these are ways for me to give back to the industry and allow me to share my knowledge and experience with y’all in uncertain times.

To the tickets!

———————————————————————————————–

1. The Coronavirus changed the world of entertainment and sports for the foreseeable future:

Okay, you don’t need me to tell you that the week started with Pearl Jam postponing the first leg of their tour. Which would have been crazy enough, but pretty quickly Utah Jazz Center Rudy Gobert acted like a knucklehead and a #FakeNews genius before testing positive for coronavirus.

Then, the NBA suspended their season, followed by the NCAA canceling the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, and a whole lot more. You don’t need me to list the entire, but if you follow me on Twitter…I’ll post a bunch of pieces over the next few days to share all the stories.

Here are a few:

Broadway Live Nation Champions League Festivals The AFL SXS and they aren’t refunding their tickets!  Ultra Festival isn’t on and isn’t refunding. Italy is on a shutdown!

More importantly, what’s next? No one knows for sure!

The real answer is, it depends. That’s unsatisfying but true.

Let me try to give you something that helps you take action: 

Attendance is going to be an issue for the next few months because for too many events attendance has been an issue anyway. So you’re going to need to think about how to incentivize attendance, ensure safety, and give the best experience. 

For folks selling tickets, your focus on process is going to need to be tighter. 

While I mentioned attendance being an issue, you also need to think about the idea that there will be pent up demand because if people are quarantined or ill, they will be stir crazy after a few weeks of hanging out in their flats and their homes. So how will you deal with that? 

2. NFL continues to negotiate a new deal with the player’s association:

This negotiation has played out for a longer period of time and in public in a way that I don’t remember other deals playing out.

I’m sure there are a number of reasons why.

The League wants to add another game. They want to get a lot more TV money. They want it all and they want it now.

What does all of this mean? 

Mark Cuban has called out the NFL before, but if I were pointing to managing by spreadsheet…

The NFL isn’t slowing up business due to the pandemic. 

The NFL is in the off-season, so they are likely insulated from the immediate impact of the coronavirus.

3. Betway receives the largest fine in UK history: 

I’m not a prude on gambling, but just throwing away my money on something I don’t control isn’t my gig.

Don’t believe me, ask my son…he wants to bet on whether or not he can beat me in a penalty shootout or something else. He can’t but I talk him off betting.

I bring this story up because I worry that the US sports business is rushing into betting as its latest savior and that the unintended consequences are likely to be challenging.

Take this week as an example: no NCAA tournament is a big hit to the gambling industry.

Why do I bring this up?

We really have to think through what role we allow betting to have in our sports consumption? Mark Cuban said it might make baseball interesting to folks, but is that good? 

How are we protecting kids and consumers? 

Does betting steal from the live experience?

Spoiler: I don’t know the answer. But I feel like the rush to sports betting is covering up the inability to market and sell the live experience as well as it should be sold.

What do you think?

4. US Soccer continues to fight the Women’s National Team: 

The women’s national team is super successful, entertaining, and they have an ongoing battle going with the US Soccer Federation.

Tonight as I write this, the head of US Soccer resigns.

I’ve also followed the WNBA challenges a lot over the last few seasons.

Here’s where I am:

The ladies’ games want equal pay and the way I understand it with the WNBA is that they just want the same percentage as the NBA.

I think we want to pay our top female athletes more because we don’t want them to have to play in 2 leagues or more…because that’s not healthy for them or their leagues.

Finally, if you create value…you deserve to earn some of it.

I don’t know if this applies well to tickets, but I think there is a bigger audience for women’s sports than we always recognize.

5. Brokers, Touts, and all…

StubHub is working to get a RICO case dismissed.

Do laws even matter anymore?

Gary Adler says that a lot of the ills of the secondary market are possibly fixed by the BOSS Act.

In general, the secondary market is in the news around the world. And, the UK and Europe are on top of reigning the secondary market in.

Again, I’m pro-secondary. And, I’m curious how this will shake out with the coronavirus…but:

The secondary isn’t your enemy if they buy through a partnership. 

The secondary can add a lot of value to poorly selling events. 

Keep an eye on the secondary in every market, things have a tendency to jump continents. 

—————————————————————————————————————-

What am I up to this week?

I had Don Vaccaro on the podcast!

I’m in DC. So keep an eye on my website and I’m going to do a lot of virtual stuff.

  Please follow and like us:

Talking Tickets 13 March 2020–Coronavirus! was originally published on Wakeman Consulting Group

[iamjwes]

It’s the Roddy Round Up in Addison so that means we’re shaking hands and exchanging business cards to find those solid Investors! #NetworthRealty #RoddyRoundUp #Investors #RealEstate #AddisonTx #DFW #MeetUp #Networking (at Addison Conference and Theatre Centre)

[jokerepair74-blog]

Hitching a Ride on the Digital Nomad Express

Late last year, my friend James Clark wrote me to say that VietJet intended to open a direct flight from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, to Chiang Mai, Thailand.

He dubbed it “The Digital Nomad Express.”

I LOL’d.

So when it recently came time for a visa run, I decided to buy a ticket.

I was excited for my first return trip to Saigon since 2015. I’ve spent a lot of time in the city over the years, and I wasn’t surprised to find that many things are changing for the better (check out James’ suggestions for the future).

Not surprisingly, the Digital Nomad Express wasn’t so full of digital nomads. The flight was mostly made up of tourists, travelers, business people, students, and monks.

But here’s the thing, even if Digital Nomads were onboard, I’d be having an increasingly difficult time trying to identify them. The remote work lifestyle is starting to go more mainstream.

Nomads are amorphous, transitory, and easy to confuse with entrepreneurs, or expats, or ya know, people doing their thing.

What is it, anyway, that makes a Digital Nomad?

Here’s an idea:

The archetype at the core of the digital nomad identity is that of the backpacker or traveler. So you might say: earn like an entrepreneur or freelancer, and live like a backpacker or traveler and boom: digital nomad.

This helps to explain a lot of things: like why digital nomads generally don’t stay digital nomads for long, or why successful entrepreneurs who simply travel often or live somewhere strange often loath being lumped in with the label. There are many downsides to living life like a traveler.

A lot of digital nomads would make their lives a lot easier if they simply thought of themselves as expats and declared – and invested in – a home. Pick up a book or two about the local history, find a friend or hobby that has something to do with the place you’ve come to, and when somebody asks you how long you’re sticking around just saying “I live here.”

The truth is behind most traveler’s facade there is some kind of home– it’s where they store their stuff and where they go when they’re sick. Maybe it’s their parents place or a friend’s. They’re moving around to fun and cheap cities for a high quality of life, but are still ultimately anchored to somewhere they’re confident the mail will turn up.

Digital Nomads vs. the Location Independent Entrepreneur

The location independent entrepreneur, who lives outside of their home country, takes cues from an expatriate. And those who’ve stayed in their place of birth are simply carving out a way of life that looks much like wealthy people would live a generation before – snowbirding, doing 9 then 3, or simply traveling a great deal for business or leisure.

Anyway, for this one weekend, I wasn’t worried about categories. I was going to digital nomad my face off.

I was in full on travel mode. I traded in what has become a laughable camel caravan of luggage for a sleek carry on only digital nomad setup:

Of course, Saigon and Chiang Mai have long been pillars in the community of readers here at TMBA. The both have a lot of the things entrepreneurs and digital nomads (and now, increasingly, remote workers) love:

Great value for the money.

Easy to get an apartment and basic life amenities setup.

Strong local entrepreneurial culture with cosmopolitan elements to the city.

Nice coffee shops and bars.

And perhaps most importantly, other digital nomads.

Saigon is something of a shrine to capitalism. You can see and feel it everywhere. The energy of the city is hustle. It whispers “make something of yourself.” 

You can see it happening in front of your eyes. Look around and you can spot loaves of bread moving through the streets, from baker, to bike taxi, to vendor or restaurant. Look up and you’ll see ambitious construction projects dotting the city.

It’s a funny juxtaposition given all the communist symbols everywhere.

Saigon changes so fast…

Most co-working spaces around the city are populated by locals.

It’s only been three years since I left, but so many things in Saigon have changed.

The first thing I noticed: District 1, the central area, smelled different.

I guess some people might be tempted to say it smells better, but not me.

For me, Vietnam’s cities smell of a unique mix of incense, exhaust, waste, and food being prepared and distributed on the street. In my mind, it’s inextricably tied to career freedom itself.

I know that might sound nuts, but Vietnam was the theatre of a formative travel experience for me in 2001. When I returned to the U.S., it was part of what I dreamed about when peeking over my cubicle wall in 2006, wondering if I’d ever get out.

(I did.)

What started as an adventure in 2008 – returning to Vietnam to source products, hire remote workers, and EAT – has turned into a life. Some of the folks who I went on adventures with have gone on to prove that it’s possible to build wealth and interesting careers while having a great deal of location and time freedom.

The businesses and careers they’ve created would have been very hard to even imagine 10 or 20 years ago, let alone execute. It’s encouraging for me to see so many old friends doing so well, doing things their own way. When you’re building things that are unprecedented – say, insisting that even though you’ve got 100+ employees, you’re going to stay 100% remote, it’s easy to get tempted to replicate the way “experts” did before.

But these folks, some of whom I first met in HCMC, are proving that in this day and age it’s possible to build things on your own terms and, in a small way, contribute to what work and career might look like for others in the future.

***

I spent my first day in Ho Chi Minh city strolling around. I’d missed this. Chiang Mai, for all it’s virtues, isn’t the nicest place for a stroll.

I was excited to see somebody thought it was a good idea to dedicate an entire walking street to book sellers and cafes.

And that the options to caffeinate your journey continue to expand on the already impressive cafe culture:

This was a hot chocolate that had spicy bits and cinnamon.

And of course, I ate. I’d bet the average truck driver in Vietnam is exposed to more delicious food than the average upper middle class American.

My first meal was perhaps, fittingly, my favorite dish of all time. Simply, Pho Bo.

We ensured to stay hydrated.

* **

That evening I caught up with somebody TMBA listeners will be familiar with, David Hehenberger the founder of Fat Cat Apps and Landing Cube.

David was one of the first TMBA Apprentices back in the day, and has since gone on to found 3 successful companies, grow a team, and serve as a mentor for apprentices in his own companies. David’s been based in Saigon for 6 years now, and is one of my favorite people to hang out with. We joked about all sorts of things, and had the nerdy conversations that only internet entrepreneurs can appreciate.

ME: “Have you considered just SWASing your SaaS?”

DAVID: “Funny you mention that, my apprentice suggested such a move last week.”

That evening, instead of going home at a reasonable hour, I took a motorbike taxi to the nightlife walking street of Bui Vien, ground zero for backpackers and travelers in Southern Vietnam. I’m glad I went. It’s changed dramatically, but it’s still the lovable crazy melting pot it’s always been.

The next day, James and I took a walking tour of the Tao Dien area in District 2.

We went in style.

We got to see so many new buildings going up across the city.

When I first moved to Saigon, District 2 was known as the place where expat families who had fancy jobs located to ensure their kids got a access to good schools and lived in large homes in gated communities. What started as a suburb with good housing has gradually morphed into something resembling Seminyak in Bali.

I noticed whiffs of La Jolla, California as I walked past the swish spas, beauty salons, cafes, and eateries with food offerings (Poke, Vegan, BBQ) that Westerners would be well familiar with. James pointed out a Yoga Teacher’s Training School, indicating once and for all that District 2 intends to make Western expats feel right at home.

We (that’s James in the photo) opted to have a fancy brunch with some other entrepreneurs.

I drank a double shot of espresso and three glasses of Champagne. It cost me an arm and a leg! That’s Tao Dien living I suppose.

After a siesta, that walk was hot!, I snuck in a few more bowls of Vietnamese food, which were priced more reasonably. Here’s one of my favorites, a dish from the center of the country called Mi Quang. It’s the “Dac Biet” or special version, meaning in most cases they pull out all the stops. In this case, all the stops were all the fun bits from a chicken plus some delicious Viet style sausages.

James sent me off early on Sunday with a classic breakfast of rice dumplings called Bahn Cuon. We discussed future plans to meetup and spend a week together with other bright folks. I walked with a full stomach and a good deal of insight into the projects I’m working on.

For me, it’s easy to get caught up in a routine and day to day of running a business. Often, I resist the idea of taking a weekend away. My mind often prefers the idea of staying on plan.

In the end though, I rarely regret shaking things up and hopping on a plane.

Sure, I got a little behind on some projects, but what I got was so much more valuable. Adventure, ideas, inspiration, and consolidating friendships.

For me, these are the best part of being a digital nomad. If we agree that the DNA of the nomad comes from generations of travelers, adventurers, and backpackers, then the MO of the digital nomad shouldn’t be finding great places to open a laptop, but finding great places to close them.

Dan

PS, it’s never been easier to live and work remotely. Check out our newest project, Dynamite Jobs.

Source: http://www.tropicalmba.com/hitching-a-ride-on-the-digital-nomad-express/

[shadesumbra]

Chapter 11

It had been a month ago when he read about it in the newspaper. Bruce Wayne bought three first edition books worth one million each.

Three books he didn't have in his collection.

Of course he couldn’t go after them right away, as much as he wanted to. He had to wait until the buzz settled down and the spotlight was somewhere far different. Now, one month after the books were purchased, and the news now focused on Superman’s latest battle, he would strike.

Metaphorically speaking, actually striking would probably cause some damage to the books.

It was past midnight as Shade stands at the Wayne manor gates. From the darkness his eyes scan the grounds. By the looks of it, most everyone was asleep, or at least in their room. He knew kids didn’t go to bed on time. The only lights that were on were minor lights on the upper floors of the mansion. Perfect.

He whisks himself through the shadows inside to the foyer. Going straight into the library could risk him getting caught. His footsteps were silent as he walks into the library, and really, he has to take a moment to appreciate it all. Bruce Wayne may be an air-headed dolt, but he knew how to collect. Shade ran his hand gently over the spines of some of the nearby books. They’re in practically perfect condition.

Kudos Wayne. Give credit where credit is due.

Eventually he makes his way over to where the newest first editions are. A small smile comes across his face. They are beautiful. His shadows pick the lock and open the glass case.

However, just as he reaches in a fire poker blocks his hand.

“Most cat burglars around here tend to dress the part sir.”

Shade’s attention was instantly drawn to the person who had blocked him.

Ah, the butler. This he wasn’t expecting. An easy problem to fix.

Though…

“Oh. So you want a joust?” He lifted his cane in a an offensive pose, as if daring the other man to strike.

And he did.

It was quick and precise, but Shade was quick to defend. And then it was his turn. He made a quick strike, which his opponent was just as quick to defend. Even in the man’s old age, he was still quick with his movements. Quicker than what Shade was expecting from someone this man’s age. With age comes experience he supposed.

A smile crept onto Shade’s face. Oh, he could definitely have fun with this.

The two made their way around the room. The attacks becoming more and more advanced and the maneuvers more complicated. For the first time in a long while, Shade was having the time of his life. And he couldn’t help himself, he was grinning like an idiot because of it. And even though he knew the other man was just protecting property, he could see the faint, wry smile on the other man as well.

The two continued for a little while long, and Shade briefly wondered why no one else had come down to check on what was going on. Especially with all the noise they were making. They were all probably out, Wayne was a party boy. He wouldn’t doubt that all Wayne’s kids were too.  

He was pulled out of his thoughts when his opponent bumped into a nearby side table, the vase falling to the floor. The man reached for it, bit just barely missed grabbing it. Shade’s hand shot out before he really knew what he was doing and his shadows saved the pottery.

He brought it to him. “I should keep this, just as a thank you for saving it.”

“I think not.”

Shade laughed and the man gently took it from Shade’s arms and put it back into its place.

“I can see that this is getting either of us nowhere, so may I suggest we talk it over with a cup of tea?” The man suggested.

Shade didn’t think his smile could get any wider. Oh but he was wrong. “I’d love to.”

The man led Shade down to the kitchen, and he quickly put a kettle on the stove.

“So is there any particular reason why you skipped over hundreds of priceless books for three first editions?”

“Simple. I don’t have them.”

“Oh, and I suppose breaking in and stealing them from a highly guarded billionaire is the easiest way to get them?”

“It is when you’re a criminal.”

The man let out a small laugh. “There’s a vendor who goes by the name of Penskili who makes it his business to find and restore old books. It would be much easier to talk to him.”

The kettle began to whistle and the man wasted no time in getting the tea ready. He was about to pour the two cups when Shade interjected.

“I’d prefer to make my own if that’s okay.”

The man nodded, leaving the teapot and milk on the counter for Shade. He watched as Shade poured in the milk first, then the tea.

“That’s a very old fashioned way to prepare your tea, I’d say you were trying too hard if it were my place.”

“I suppose it is your place to say it, considering I’m still technically breaking and entering. Though, old habits die hard,” he took a sip. Oolong, and expensive too.

“Oh? And when did you develop such old fashioned habits?”

“It was common place as a child as to not break the cup.”

“Heavens, you must of grown up with quite frail crockery.”

Shade let out a “mh” as he took a sip. “So, do I get the pleasure of a name, or do I just call you ‘Butler’?”

“Alfred, and how about you?”

“Shade.”

“Ah, so I don’t get the honor of your actual name.”

“Very few people get that honor.”

“I suppose for a criminal, that is fair.”

The two sat in a comfortable silence while they drank their tea. This was the last thing Shade had expected when he had come to Wayne manor to steal those first editions. Oh but he was having such a delightful time. He supposed he could leave these copies. He made a mental note to find Penskili at a later date.

He stayed a while longer and the two had a surprisingly enjoyable chat. Alfred had quite the wit to him, and he did love battling wits.

"Congratulations bu- Alfred, you've significantly charmed me enough to leave your books alone for the time being,” He stood up and placed his hat back on top of his head that was previously sitting on the table. “This was the most fun I’ve had in quite awhile. I may have to return just for another jousting match. Pip pip.” And with that he walked through a shadow door and disappeared.

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Alfred watched as the man, Shade, left in a swift of smokey shadows. He wasn’t quite sure if he should be worried or not. The man did say he might return. But in the end he hadn’t really taken anything. Everything about their interaction screamed that Shade was doing what he was doing out of both boredom and a collector’s will.

Alfred stood up and quickly cleaned up the dishes the two of them had used. Adding in the milk first, the man must either be trying too hard or really must be that old. And considering what goes on in Gotham, he wouldn’t doubt that Shade really could be that old.

After cleaning the cups, Alfred was quick to make his way downstairs to the batcave. If there was anything about Shade in the world, the batcomputer would find it. He was sure that Master Bruce wouldn’t mind him using it for such a task, after all, Master Drake did download quite a few games onto it.

The only sound in the batcave was the clicking of keys and the small clicking of bats. It didn’t take long for the batcomputer to find what Alfred was looking for.

Shade used to be a criminal in Keystone fighting Jay Garrick before the worlds merged. He retired shortly before the event, and came out of retirement to battle with the other Flashes that popped up. There is no known birth record, but Opal City records show of him buying property in the city during its development.

So Shade was that old. Possibly older than he lets on. Yes, Alfred could see how living that long could get boring. And how it would be easier for Shade to just steal rather than go through people. People could be quite a hassle.

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It was a week later that Alfred saw Shade again. Alfred, doing his typical butler duties, was standing in the lobby while he waited for Bruce Wayne to come out of the theatre. It wasn’t a show Wayne particularly wanted to go to, but he had to keep his social standing up. It was there that a glimpse of black caught Alfred’s eye.

Oh, it was Shade. What an unexpected meetup.

“Come to steal some priceless stage prop? Or perhaps take an actor for ransom?”

Shade turned on his heel toward the direction of the voice, and gave a laugh. “As strange as it may seem I do delight in the occasional show without causing mayhem or pulling off a crime.”

"Why, how fortunate to meet in better circumstances, Mr. Thief."

"I could say the same, Butler."

"But did you come alone?"

"...Yes"

Alfred noticed the split second of hesitation, but didn’t push it. If Shade was going to try anything, there’d be someone there to stop him. Besides, Alfred had read up on Shade as much as he could. Shade like to make a show out of his crimes to attract the attention of the hero he intended to fight. Usually, he only did the crime just to attract the hero, if Shade had plans to try anything he would of already of done them.

It’s not like Shade ever fought with anyone other than the Flash anyway.

For a criminal, Shade certainly did have a lot of honor. Which was something that surprised him, considering most of the Gotham Rogues and Metropolis villains.

“I must thank you before I forget. That vendor was able to retrieve me those books I was after. Though stealing them would of been much cheaper.”

“I’m sure it would have, but you’d also have your face on wanted posters in Gotham. Then how would you be able to enjoy your casual nights out without crime?”

“Touché.”

At that moment Bruce Wayne came out. Shade tipped his hat to Alfred and moved away.

“Who was that Alfred?”

“Just someone I sparked a conversation with to pass the time.”

The two left, and the doors closed just in time for Alfred to miss the breath that Shade was holding.