#there was a video i saw once where a guy cracked like 20 eggs into a rice cooker and just cooked them like that

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

egg loaf

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #18: The Basement (1989)

Well, here we are again.

I mentioned this with a previous review on Captives, but this year, in spite of all the awfulness that has gone on, it’s been surprisingly kind to me as far as getting lucky with uncovering stuff that has slid through the cracks. With Captives, I’ve waiting roughly ten or so years to finally get the chance to see it in all it’s mediocre, obscure glory. I wasn’t too sure when I’d ever get the chance to see Tim O’Rawe’s super 8 anthology, The Basement either given it’s own obscure and odd history. That day is finally here, and needless to say I couldn’t be more excited. ________________________________________  

The Basement is a 1989 super 8 horror anthology directed by Timothy O’Rawe, whose only other major, notable credit is Ghoul School the following year. Our story centers on that of four strangers who find themselves a mysterious basement where they’re met by an entity only known as The Sentinel who shows them their inevitable fates and what awaits them in the great beyond.

The film’s history is a bit spotty from what I could find, but the short version is that it was in production for just a bit over three weeks before O’Rawe abandoned it, leading to him eventually work on Ghoul School. It presumably sat in storage forgotten for roughly 20 years until Camp Motion Pictures edited it in 2010 and distributed it in 2011 as The Basement: Super 80s Retro Collection; which also included Cannibal Campout, Captives, Video Violence, and Video Violence 2. Now, as to how it was rediscovered, I’m not sure. I don’t know if it’s a case like Metal Noir where it was found on accident or O’Rawe found it in his collection again before handing it off to CMP. Now, with that said, I feel like we have a bit of a situation on our hands because I don’t know how fair this review might turn out given what we know for the time being.

The Basement in One Gif:

Oh, oh you guys. I think I found the perfect film and it might outshine Las Vegas Bloodbath here with just the finest, most outstanding acting and line delivery I’ve ever seen. I knew from the first three minutes that I was in for something special and seeing it all over again is just. Wow. ________________________________________

So, before I dive in I think I should say that I’m not sure how fair this is going to be given that the film was abandoned and was more than likely unfinished. I can’t make heads or tails of it all with the plot holes going on or the clumsy acting and dialogue, like if it’s a timing and budget problem or what. It’s truly fucking bizarre. It also doesn’t help that without a vague plot summary online, you probably won’t have much of an idea as to what’s going on, and this is going to cause a ton of problems from the jump.

With the opening, we’re already off to a bad start. We see our main four wandering around a dingy basement, wondering how they’re going to get out. There’s no rhyme or reason for it. They’re just sort of there and we aren’t told how they ended up there. Now, I don’t know if this is a problem with the writing and it was never considered or it was probably with the timing and the scene was never shot before O’Rawe abandoned the film. It would have been nice to have say, a Cube or Saw scenario where they all just woke up there.

From what I found, it says they were summoned there, presumably by The Sentinel or the evil energy from the house that they supposedly released, but that still raises the question of why they didn’t go back the way they came. If the house trapped them inside, then it surely wasn’t conveyed or alluded to. It’s not like an underground mine or cave where it’s easy to get lost. There’s also the question of why the Sentinel is choosing to specifically punish them, given that he shows them visions of their futures that will ultimately condemn them with no chance of redemption. So, we’re going into predestination territory?

Next to this, the more obvious problem is the acting and line delivery. It’s pretty damn bad, full of overreacting and what I can only guess is just bad dubbing. Once again, I can’t tell if the dubbing came about at the hands of CMP or it was already like that when O’Rawe was working on it. It’s likely going to be the best-worst thing about this, so I hope you’re in the mood for bad cheese. ________________________________________

Our first story, The Swimming Pool, centers on Victoria who, for some reason, really has it out for her husband and we’re never told why. She just hates him because “plot device” I guess. The bad line delivery and dubbing shines here and it’s boarding on being horrible and comedic, which isn’t the best way to kick us off into things.

We find that after her husband goes for a swim that there’s some sort of water entity in the pool and she sort of just has a odd reaction to it all, where one moment she’s reacting to it and the next she’s sitting by the water. I can’t tell if this is supposed to take place the same day, which it looks like, or they didn’t to a good job to show some sort of transition to another point in time. Also, she has names of her enemies and other doodles scribbled in a book like an eighth grader for some reason. It’s so corny and cheesy.

There’s no sort of lore or explanation for where the pool demon thing came from, let alone why Victoria feels compelled to do this. The ending also makes no sense either when we see what becomes of her either. It’s should be noted that this chapter is just around the ten minute mark, making it the shortest of the lot. Now, I can’t tell if it’s like this intentionally or there were more shots planned, but didn’t get filmed due to the film being abandoned. I’m not too sure, but it’s probably the worst of the four.

--

We get our next chapter in the form of Trick-or-Treat, a sort of Christmas Carol style story centering on a widowed high school teacher who is visited by various monsters who demand he changes his ways for hating kids and disrespecting the spirit of Halloween. We get an interesting fantasy sequence where he unleashes his pent up anger our on his students before veering off a bit towards this story’s sort of second act where the spirit of his wife visits him, warning him to change his ways before he faces a similar fate she has. You’d think that would lead to a sort of revelation for him to do something, but it doesn’t. Like, man, you can’t even just fake it for a day or anything? It’s not like they implied they were going to keep tabs on you every Halloween or anything, so why make a big deal about it?

If I had to find some sort of positive about this one, it’s that it probably has the most decent special effects and makeup work of the four. But, of course I’m not sure how much of a positive that is and what it says about what we can expect from the other two stories. It may or may not also be the most rounded of them too, again, not sure if that’s a major positive given when we have to work with and it works fairly decently as just a stand alone short film on its own.

--

The third chapter brings us to Zombie Movie, centering on a film crew working on a low budget zombie flick with their asshole director, Adelman, and things slowly go to shit when their picture becomes a reality. Hmm, low budget 80s zombie flick...bad director...I think I’ve heard of this before! It’s also neat to see a small easter egg here in the form of the production assistant, played by JR Bookwalter, wearing a Dead Next Door shirt, as O’Rawe got a special thanks notice in the credits of that film as well. The dubbing here is particularly awful, but at least he wasn’t wrong when he said the zombies look like assholes!

As for why any of this is happening, we don’t get an answer. Why? Who cares! Maybe it just hearkens back to the last story where it’s happening due to the director disrespecting the art of zombie films. Your guess is as good as mine. It’s a shame too that the acting here absolutely sucks for the most part because this could have been the best one of the bunch...maybe. There’s a bit of an issue towards the end where the director immediately jumps to there being zombies on the loose and not a bunch of jackass trespassers causing trouble, but maybe there’s a deleted or unrecorded scene where the actresses tell him what the PA was freaking out over and he got paranoid? I’m not too sure. Either way, it feels like a sloppy way to bring things to a close.

--

The final chapter brings us to Home Sweet Home, the simple story about a guy named Scott who purchases a house in the countryside with a gruesome history and begins to question his sanity in the process when it seems like the rumors about it might be true after all. It’s arguably the most generic of the four and here I would say that’s a compliment to play it as safe as possible.

Almost right away, I noticed something off, and I don’t mean with the dubbing because that’s weird on it’s own. There’s a weird point in the conversation he has with the realtor about the house where she mentions that part of the legend with the house is that the owner committed suicide after going on a killing spree and it ties into why they haven’t found him. I can’t tell if it was a clumsy way to explain things, but wouldn’t it make sense for the police to have found him if that was the case? Again, your guess is as good as mine. With that being said, I hope you enjoy night shots because we’re going to get a ton of them!

Things begin to pick up a bit after Scott arrives to the new place and starts to get settled in with the help of a friend who shows up after talking to the realtor. I’m not sure how he thought he would get lucky that way, but alright. The conversations afterward with his girlfriend are also what you can expect as far as acting goes too, which isn’t anything too special. From here on out, I anticipated a ton of squinting because it’s hard to tell what’s going on at any point if there isn’t even a little bit of candlelight. It’s like watching Nekro, but somehow worse, yet better than Blood Lake, which sucks because if some of these shots weren’t so damn dark, the special effects would look pretty damn cool. It’s also kind of a downer in a way to know what comes next given how this guy wasn’t an asshole who had it coming like the other three did too.

The film ends with the Sentinel showing them what awaits them now that they’ve been judged for their actions, and it goes the way I’m sure you can already picture it going before we close to the credits with some mediocre 80s tunes. Estus Pirkle approved perhaps?

________________________________________ 

So, that was The Basement. It was a weird ride from start to finish and I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it. It’s one giant anomaly and I feel like now I have more questions than answers.

I mentioned it before, but it’s worth saying again that I want to know how much of the problems here are just a result of the project being abandoned, the film naturally being this flimsy, or CMP had something to do with it because I feel like I had this issue too when it came to Captives and I can’t tell if they how much of the film was really saved and how much of it was butchered by Majestic Home Video. It could be a bit of everything here, though I don’t want to believe that CMP would try to sabotage this given how long it had been out of the public eye for.

That being said, there’s so much going on here and trying to wrap my head around it hurts. I can’t tell if the acting is naturally this trashy or it’s only enhanced by the dubbing. It also feels like more stuff was supposed to be going on, but it just didn’t for one reason or another and I’m not sure if that robs something from it or was for the best.

As I mentioned with the whole Swimming Pool chapter, it feels like something else was originally planned to happen at some point and things just fell through. It would have been nice to have a sort of story line like with the Are You Afraid of the Dark episode, “The Tale of the Dark Music” where Victoria makes some sort of deal with the entity in exchange for something in return. It would explain more of her logic and reasoning behind her method of madness instead of it all seeming random.

With Trick-or-Treat, having more padding or explanation to justify his hatred of kids and Halloween would have been great too and not slow down the pace of the story. Hell, give me a brief one-off bit like with Night of the Demons where they’re being a bunch of dicks to the old guy. There, problem solved. It’s a lot easier than a single, brief shot of some kids who poorly try to egg his house. Again, nothing would have been lost here if they went that direction, unless the whole point was to make him the old geezer type who just hates the season and that’s it.

Zombie Movie probably could have had the most potential to be the best of the four if it wasn’t for the painfully bad dubbing and acting. If that was a non-issue, I could buy into the premise more without much of a problem. Plus, it feels like a cameo on part of Bookwalter with how flimsy the execution was, or even Carl  Burrows who played one of the B actors and has the most prolific career of the cast; being in other stuff like Ghoul School, Psycho Sisters, Toxic Avenger III, Crybaby Lane, Mysteries at the Museum, The Sadist, and Psycho Street to name a few.

Home Sweet Home still feels like the more normal and grounded one of the bunch and I’m not sure if playing it safe helped in the end either. It probably could have been saved if it was stretched out a bit more and we got to see more into Scott’s psyche and go on the journey with him about whether or not his dreams and hallucinations are real. It also doesn’t help either that some of the night shots make it hard to tell what’s going on because what you can make out with some of the gore scenes are pretty cool and it feels like we got robbed here. I’m still not sure why Scott is being thrown under the bus with Victoria, Charles, or Mr. Adelman considering his only “crime” seems to be not taking a superstitious rumor seriously. Talk about harsh.

Beyond this, there’s not a ton to talk about either. The music is fairly average and not all that interesting, being what one could expect from something on a low budget for the time and when your sound producer and editor is one of your guys providing additional voice work, you can only expect so much and even then it’s probably too much. This is such an oddity and I’m still kind of surprised that it was found again after all these years. It’s funny how things like this just slip through the cracks of time and it’s good to know this more than likely won’t go missing again, though I’m in no rush to take this out of the vault to revisit any time soon.

Rating: 3/10

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 174: Fancy Rich People Tea

Previously on BnHA: Mirio and Deku took Eri on a whirlwind weekend tour of U.A. We learned that class B is putting on a play for the festival which sounds amazing and also appears to be infringing on no fewer than three copyrights. We ran into Hadou and Amajiki who were doing some preparations for Hadou’s Miss Con campaign. We learned that the support department has a tech exhibition at the festival each year which is a big deal for them. We also learned that Shinsou is Still At It. Not sure what it is. But he’s still here guys! Finally we ran into Midnight and the Rat Principal at the cafeteria and learned that Rat Principal had to pull lots of strings and jump through a bunch of hoops in order to run the event this year. Basically security is going to be crazy, and if someone so much as sneezes something that sounds like ‘villain attack’ they will immediately call the whole thing off and evacuate. Sounds fair. All in all, Eri had a good time and is looking forward to the actual event! Also Deku got fired from the dance squad. That’s rough, buddy.

Today on BnHA: Mina explains that they need Deku to help the staging team turn Aoyama into a human disco ball. Deku agrees so long as he still gets to dance a little bit. The next morning Deku and All Might run into Mei while training in the woods. We learn that she’s working on a new support item for Deku which will be ready soon. That evening Momo makes some fancy tea for everyone while Deku fucks around on Youtube and accidentally stumbles across one of Gentle’s videos. We then cut to Gentle and La Brava, and Gent breaks down the details of his plan. They’ll take a sneaky route to approach U.A. on the day of the festival, using back streets and side roads. Then they’ll stop and drink tea (the same fancy brand that Momo uses) for an hour and a half. Then they’ll approach U.A. from the woods, and La Brava will breach U.A.’s security barrier with her mad hacking skills. We learn that she used those same skills to track down Gentle after she first saw his videos, and afterwards she devoted herself to his cause. Gentle says he is putting his heart and soul into this new plan for her sake and for the sake of his own dreams.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 199 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.) 

look at this sweet girl trying to soften the blow

yeah because Aoyama totally ditched them. sorry Deku, they need a new disco ball

...or maybe not!

sorry Deku we need a new dispersal method for our disco ball

so wait. they’re really going through with this, huh. this wild stream-of-consciousness rambling from Mina really became the centerpiece for the entire dance floor

and Aoyama is FULLY ON BOARD now

so now this job is perfect for you huh. well you sure are a good sport

so they want Deku to break off from the main group at the same time as Aoyama and help him out

so once he has been “dispersed” you can probably still go have your dance with Eri, Deku! you can do that thing where she stands on top of your feet and you waltz around. it’s going to be so cute omg. make sure your mom videotapes it

speaking of are the parents going to get to come to this thing too? or will it really only be the kids. let their moms and dads come see all of their hard work!

(ETA: I was hoping we would see some of the parents but if they were there we missed it. booooo)

now Kiri is doing that hands-clapped-together pleading thing and apologizing to Deku, but he says they really need his help

lol so they’ve realized that they can’t put all their eggs into the “Aoyama as disco ball” basket

this is an honest-to-god serious conversation these kids are happening. with note-taking and everything. Todoroki fucking Shouto is in on this. “how long can we hold people’s attention by transforming Aoyama into a disco ball.” science

okay but. you guys... are planning other stuff too. right. ...???

(ETA: they sure are. that ice stuff that Mina also suggested. I’m telling you guys, she’s the undisputed MVP of this whole arc, and without her their festival program would have been shit)

lol well okay then. this is going to be so interesting

anyway so Deku’s all “I guess it’s okay then as long as I have a turn dancing,” and he’s agreeing to it

now we’re cutting to 6:30 a.m. on some random unknown day and Deku is training for his new move under All Might’s supervision

All Might is chock full of sage mentor wisdom

“always remember: bleeding internally is bad.” good stuff. write that down, Deku

he’s asking All Might if he has any tricks for maintaining control of the attack, since this is the first move he’s learned that he can’t just use freely

sage mentor wisdom

so apparently All Might was some sort of OFA prodigy and was able to control 100% OFA almost instantly. so he really genuinely has no idea how to teach it, because to him it just came naturally

was he just that buff when he got the quirk?? how old was he when he got it? did he actually attend U.A. as a quirkless kid? because middle school Toshinori sure as hell wasn’t ripped just yet, I can definitely tell you that much

I’m very, very, very curious about this, ngl. because I feel like the series has yet to clarify whether you need to be built like a Marvel Chris in order for your body to have the stamina to withstand OFA, or if that actually doesn’t have that much to do with it and the control needed to master it is actually more mental/spiritual than physical

like obviously physicality has a lot to do with it, though. but All Might could still use 100% for a long time even in his withered and weakened body. and Shimura, the only other OFA user we’ve seen at this juncture, was obviously super cool and tough, but it wasn’t like she was a female body builder or anything

and then of course there’s the question of exactly how much stronger Deku’s version of OFA is, though. how much of a difference is there because All Might’s strength was added to the mix? that obviously makes a big difference as well

basically I still have a lot of questions! maybe I should get back to this training scene and see if it answers any of them!

so he’s telling Deku to visualize the image of OFA -- the egg in microwave image again, I guess? -- and remember that sensation in his body. basically he’s trying to coach him on bringing it out intuitively

and Deku’s thinking to himself that even though they were both born quirkless, there’s a big difference between them still

so this does make it sound like a lot of it is mental

honestly that’s exciting and very important to me because it means that if Deku ever has a breakthrough, he could potentially make a huge leap forward in progress very suddenly

(ETA: LOOOOOOL good god I’ll say.

also! now that I know more about future developments with OFA, I’ve been thinking that I wasn’t giving Deku enough credit here. he is, in fact, just as much of a prodigy as All Might, I think. the difference is that All Might was able to master the physical aspects of OFA, whereas Deku seems to be more in touch with the spiritual side that All Might (supposedly) never really awakened. or to put it in Avatar: The Last Airbender terms, All Might was more of a Korra and Deku is more of an Aang. fortunately for Deku, it seems that being in tune with the spiritual part of OFA gives you access to some really neat stuff, holy shit.)

HOLY SHIT

THIS DUDE’S STILL GOT IT

holy shit that came out of nowhere at top speed and he caught it without looking like a total badass. WHO EVEN NEEDS ONE FOR ALL. OR ORGANS

so now Mei’s traipsing out of the woods and asking if anyone got hurt. nope, but you almost killed my husband and my son so try to be more careful next time

Deku’s belatedly realizing that this looks kind of weird, him being out in the middle of the woods having SECRET TRAINING with All Might at the crack of dawn

so All Might, master of improvisation that he is, is switching to Kansai dialect for some reason. to try and disguise himself. because of course that’ll work

thankfully, out of everyone they could have stumbled across in the woods, Hatsume Mei is the most singularly one-track-minded person they could have possibly met, and she’s barely even batting an eye

hmm?

new item, eh?

and he’s surprised and says he thought it wouldn’t be ready until after the cultural festival

but she already had the materials, so she says it’ll take no time at all

so he’s thanking her and now she’s walking off again

and by the way, this thing that All Might caught literally is a golden snitch, though

All Might > Harry Potter confirmed

(ETA: and by the way, this makes two HP references two chapters in a row, given the title of 1-B’s play. Horikoshi must have recently marathoned the films or something)

now he’s asking Deku about the new item

Deku says there was something he wanted to try out with his new technique

All Might is mentioning that he also tried using support items at one point back in the day, but apparently they only ended up getting in his way and tended to break whenever he went over 20-30%

oh hey

haven’t seen this in a while. here I thought his suit was way too fitted to accommodate this sort of thing anymore. he’s probably ruined it now

(ETA: you can actually see that the top button is about to pop off lol)

anyway, he’s telling Deku that using support items is great, just so long as he doesn’t end up relying on them too much

he says he’s seen a lot of instances where heroes that relied too much on their items had a bad time when those items were lost

this kinda seems to go against what Aoyama was saying a few chapters earlier. he’s an example of someone who does rely on a support item, and he seems to do all right. but I get what All Might is trying to tell him though

so Deku is all “got it!” and clenching his fist determinedly

aww

it is, though. I was just thinking that. I adore these All Might/Deku training scenes and it’s been great to have a return to this

so now we’re cutting back to Heights Alliance, and I’m assuming it’s the evening because the moon is up

Bakugou is squabbling with Kaminari and telling him he he plays too fast. Kaminari says Bakugou is the one screwing them up because he keeps improvising

obligatory posting of this panel of MomoJirou being lesbians

I live for the little things, I really do

omg

okay, (1) this is the cutest thing that’s ever happened ever in history, and (2) I just remembered that that was the chapter title. “imperial golden tips.” so it appears the chapter is named after Momo’s fancy tea that her mom sent her

everyone’s all excited to try it because it’s fancy rich people tea

lmao. Ochako’s asking if Deku’s going to have any, and

“am I... a bad nerd??” Deku berates himself while lying awake in bed that night sobbing uncontrollably

so I think that while Deku and Ochako are being clumsy dorks here they’re going to accidentally click on one of Gentle’s videos perhaps?

yep

in a way it’s kind of charming to know that Youtube’s suggested videos algorithm is still complete shit even in the BnHA universe 200 years from now. Deku was looking for All Might support items. Youtube: [brings up villain tea videos]

so Ochako has no idea who he is, but Deku’s actually heard of him although he says he’s not too familiar. but he knows he’s an infamous Youtube Villain

:) the answer may surprise you!

though it shouldn’t, actually. you guys should just go ahead and assume you’re the targets of every upcoming villain plot from here on out. that’s the way the dice seem to be falling nowadays

now we’re cutting to Gentle and La Brava

Gentle is writing something out with a feather quill like some sort of Harry Potter character. I couldn’t come up with a more creative simile because my mind’s still in that mode thanks to the golden snitch earlier

this man just sits around in full costume writing letters with a quill even as a laptop sits inches away. he’s just that committed to his gig. he lives this life 24/7 huh

he says that the public is growing more and more dissatisfied with heroes nowadays, and it’s because they’re “feeble-minded”

I’d actually argue that at this point, them being attacked is the predictable thing

now La Brava is asking if he’s going to involve the kids that will become future heroes. YEAH, GENTLE

I’D ARGUE THAT THEY’VE HAD ENOUGH WAKE UP CALLS BY THIS POINT

like. can they live. can they just have this one little thing though, god

oh my god

thanks La Brava. this is why he keeps you around

so now they’re going over the route!

so they’re going to approach at 5 a.m. that morning, taking a route that passes by the fewest hero offices

then they’re going to turn onto a side road, go through a residential area, and then they’ll end up at a park

blah blah so about an hour will elapse during this time and they’ll end up at a rundown house that’s actually a cafe

and he says they’re going to stop there to get some tea

apparently they serve the same tea that that Momo was coincidentally serving to everyone earlier. the imperial golden tips stuff

so... they’re going to wait until the shop opens, and then take a 90-minute tea break

let me tell you, it sure is riveting going through every detailed step of this elaborate criminal operation

then they go back outside and pass through a construction site and then climb a hill

ah, finally!

yeah probably at like 5pm at this rate. the festival will have already ended and you shrug and turn around and head back home

he says that since Hounddog will probably be guarding the area, they’ll rub themselves with dirt and leaves to mask their scent

then they’re gonna hit the famed U.A. barrier, which is impossible to get through without a permit

but apparently La Brava is A HACKING PRO, so she’s gonna hack U.A.’s network and shut down their sensors

is it really that easy? shit. doesn’t U.A. have any IT heroes? little did we know this whole time the password to their network was 1234

lmao we’re flashing back to when they first met

“corrupt businessman scolded” sounds like the kind of shit that should have gone viral tbh

then one day La Brava tracked him down and said she was a huge fan and she offered to help him

she apparently hacked his address. since the police haven’t found them yet, I’m assuming they’ve since moved, or taken down that initial video, or both lol

so now he’s proclaiming that this time around he’ll proudly put his life on the line

aww

yeah so that’s basically it. and now time is progressing to the night before the cultural festival OH GOODNESS

BONUS:

so as promised, we’re gonna do two pages today since I flaked out yesterday!

page one - class B painting the prop dragon

nothing much to say about this one except that obviously they’re going to keep painting it until they’re fucking done painting it, Colander Man

page two - Kenrazaki Bibimi’s profile. I couldn’t find a scanlation for this, so my Google Translate-assisted version is below lol

likes: glittering people, glittering things

the beauty gal

“too beautiful. it’s fun to draw her eyelashes.” lol

is it weird that now that the shock of said lashes has died down some, I actually do think she is really pretty? lol what is this manga doing to me

[littlemicrocosims]

need to vent about chocolate real quick

okay so some of you may know that I used to work for choccywoccydoodah (if you’ve heard of it, great, if you haven’t, i’m also not surprised). Choccy just went out of business and I just need to vent because all the news coverage (the few bbc articles etc there are anyway) are making me SO ANGRY so if you want chocolatey behind the scenes drama and what it was ACTUALLY like to be employed by christine taylor READ ON

The entire news coverage for this business going into administration is solely ‘oh what a shame this awesome creative business is gone! noone could have predicted it! such a shock we all loved it!” lIKE NO FUCK OFF IF YOU SPOKE TO A SINGLE PERSON THAT WORKED THERE YOU WOULD KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT A SURPRISE AT ALL. This has been coming for YEARS. This company has been driven into the ground by Christine Taylor and if you ever watched the TV show i’m sure you have a little understanding as to why that is.

When I worked at the company (for about a year between 2016 - 2017), I was told many things by the owners. It’s a million dollar company, she said. It’s international. We make MAGIC. And yes, to an extent, they did make magic. The two Christine’s founded the company in Brighton in 1994 and carved a niche for themselves. They made amazing cakes for amazing people and I was so, so thrilled to be a part of it. The TV show had already ceased filming by this point, of course, and whilst the show was still running in some countries (the company was inexplicably popular in the Netherlands, I came to realise) the popularity of the show within the UK was something akin to marmite... Either you love it, or... well, you’ve never heard of it. I always knew the company and its running was unconventional - no safety training for the amount of physical labour you had to do, an incredibly stressful work environment, always expected to work unpaid overtime, the list goes on - but I loved it anyway. My manager was an amazing woman (and still is!) and I was keen to learn and master what I could. This is when the cracks started to show. Christine and Christine would make plans - we want to promote you, but we can’t promote anyone unless they’ve worked here over a year, we want to open a third store, we’re going to launch a side business, here’s a range of more affordable cakes that we are going to sell - but somehow, nothing ever followed through. They could barely afford to run two shops (one in brighton, one in central london, where i worked), let alone even CONSIDER opening a third. Their marketing relied solely on the now outdated television show and they refused to upgrade with the times. They weren’t without help - younger members of the team had plenty of suggestions and contributions but they were never recognised or accepted. I managed to convince them to invest in snapchat geo-filters (as all customers did in the shop was record and take photos). Not a huge step, but a small one in the right direction. This was once they actually ALLOWED people to film - for months part of my job was telling people to put their phones away! Why make edible art if you can’t even share it!? Their social media ‘team’ consisted of some guy who used to bake the cakes and got promoted to Christine’s PA. He could barely even spell, let alone maintain a facebook, an instagram, a youtube... To put it bluntly, they knew fuck all about promoting their own company and got complacent in how successful they had once been.

To compensate for this, the company began raising prices. The impractical “chunky bars” rose in price in the time I was at the company from £12.99 to £14.99, while cakes for 10 servings jumped from £35.99 to £40+. Commissions that staff had got and were promised for another quarter for bespoke cake consultations disappeared with no warning. They began outsourcing more and more chocolate, reducing the cocoa content of the chocolate they DID create, and staff began leaving. I thought the high turnover was normal. If you’ve watched the show, you know that Dave made all the magic happen. Well, people like Dave started leaving. Once the two Christines decided they didn’t like a member of staff, they would quietly sit and gather evidence of the smallest infractions until they had enough to fire you or play hardball until you quit before they could pull the trigger. I saw this happen to many, many members of staff in my time there. Luckily, they always seemed to like me, but I have a feeling that if I’d stayed any longer the same would have happened to me. It happened to their own son, who they demoted from operations manager in favour of the london store manager. He got no say in this. They never gave the new operations manager the payrise for her promotion for the year plus that she held the position (until closing) and they regularly expected her to work 6/7 day weeks as they refused to replace staff that were leaving. She was expected to continue to manage the london branch as well as manager the operations for the entire company. She HAD to work these hours just to make sure there was a senior member of staff in the building. This was around the time I decided the stress and constant crying when I finished my shift every night was too much, and I made the very hard decision to leave despite not having anything else lined up. I was in a fortunate position of living with my parents and having a safety net. Not everyone else had that. 

Since I left the company, things only deteriorated further. The Carnaby Street store (just off oxford circus, in central london) was deemed too expensive to rent, and they moved to covent garden, to a location my former manager oh-so affectionately refers to as “crack alley”. It was unsafe and I’ve been told that staff closing up in the evenings would regularly have to ask for backup as they would feel at risk within the store. The size of the team started to dwindle (the whole company was 50+ strong over both stores and the studios when I was there, it was 20-30 when it shut and the london store alone had 6/7 members of staff). More members of staff left without replacements. Then the inevitable happened - Dave reduced his hours, with an intention to leave, leaving very few people in the studio able to actually make the cakes (which were often dry and poorly made as it was, people regularly found bits of plastic in the cafe cakes and the cafes never even got what they ordered in the first place). Being incredibly secretive about her processes, Christine had staff sign an NDA to know the ‘secret formula’ for the modelling chocolate. Like it’s a goddamn krabby patty. So when Dave began to move away and the other staff from the studio moved on as well, instead of training anyone new to make the cakes, Chris decided she would just... price people out of them. She’d long since abandoned any premise of making affordable versions of her cakes for weddings and raised the minimum price of a bespoke design from £450 to £2,500!!!! The one thing her company was well known for and she priced everyone out of it. Just because she’s made a few cakes for celebrities (I helped design one for Jack Whitehall while I was there, but other big names include Tinie Tempah, Johnny Depp, Kylie Minogue, Boy George, the Game of Thrones launch party....) she arrogantly believed that her entire clientele could afford this, when actually her entire clientele was children who loved the show and their hard working families. These people simply cannot afford £50 for a 10 portion cake, or £30 for a slice of cake and a drink in a cafe. £5 for an outsourced chocolate coin! £20 for a bar of chocolate! She was out of touch, and arrogant, and stubborn. Other companies do it better and cheaper and she refused to ever acknowledge her competition, let alone follow through on any plans to be better.

The staff who were made redundant were barely even informed. No notice. They were told they had to vacate the building and haven’t even been paid for their last week of work, while the Brighton store continued trading for nearly a week. Because the company hadn’t gone into administration yet, they aren’t even able to claim redundancy from the government. Couples who have paid an eye watering amount of money for bespoke wedding cakes are being left up shit creek without a paddle while Christine retires to her bloody house in france to lick her wounds.

Other thoughts:

- Doggymoggydoodah was a shit idea, and poorly executed. - I’ve never met such a homophobic lesbian. She forced the manager to leave the building so she could drill her about her sex life without the repercussions of having these conversations inside the building because she knew she could get done for it if she did. - She’s a bully, plain and simple - the youtube channel posted a video YESTERDAY. who the fuck is posting on there? there’s been no action in 6 months and NOW IS THE TIME TO TELL ME HOW TO CUT ONE OF YOUR CAKES? - my old assistant manager literally robbed the company of several thousand pounds because she knew that christine couldn’t be bothered to get her security cameras fixed :) they couldn’t even get the proof to fire/charge her and had to settle for bullying her out of the company - christine would make us tell customers that we melted down display pieces to reduce waste but actually we just broke them down with a hammer and threw them in the bin. enjoy looking at that luxury easter egg knowing i literally stomped on it so it would fit in a binbag - that glitter on the cakes is not edible. it’s just non-toxic. - the chocolate they use for the modelling tastes vile. - the london stores had biiiiig rat/mice problems. We had to kill them ourselves! We trapped them in glue traps and stamped on them! I GOT PAID FOR THAT! - the brighton store was filthy and gross behind the scenes! If you’ve ever eaten in that cafe then I am sorry but the staff there didn’t like to clean :)  - that whole burlesque vibe isn’t child friendly, stop trying to combine the two, a cartoon drawing of your naked ass doesn’t belong in a cookery book you narcissistic twat!! - your chocolate is impractical and horrific to actually try and eat. there. I said it. it tasted good though. until you discontinued all my favs :(

THIS IS NOT A SURPRISE. THIS IS NOT A SHOCK. THIS BUSINESS HAS BEEN POORLY RUN AND UNABLE TO ADAPT FROM THE GET GO. Please don’t keep feeding this woman’s ego. She needs a sharp dose of reality and to face up to all the staff that she has let down. I was lucky to get out when I did but I know single mothers, people trying to afford to live in london who are now completely screwed over and out of a job. People who have given their lives to this dysfunctional company. I begged them to leave because I felt like this was going to happen but they were too loyal and devoted, and wanted it to turn around. My former boss is owed nearly £5k that she’s never going to get, and all those customers who put deposits down or heaven forbid paid the full balance on their cakes are without refunds AND cakes! Just please stop idolising Christine Taylor and look at the situation before you say how shocking and sad it is. 

Yes, this company was magical. But that ended a long time ago.

[autumn-in-phandom]

Pregnancy Terminology with Dan & Phil

I was on my third re-watch of Louise’s collab with the boys when I thought why not make time stamps!

0:01 Their sofa is so oddly asymmetrical, I noticed it in Dan’s video, but it didn’t seem like the thing to mention. So I’m saying it now, it is weird. 0:05 Dan’s little Sprinkle of Glitter jingle got shut down 0:10 Rebranding, “Dan is SNOT on fire”- Phil, fake crying from Dan. 0:15 Phil will never stop being Amazing 0:30 “We both touched the butt.”- Dan “Dan touched the butt.”- Phil  (giggles from Louise and me) 0:38 Phil can’t help calling out to the baby 0:40 “What kind of influence are we having on this child right now?”- Dan (I can’t help picturing them as uncles or godfathers.) 0:43 “Come on Phil.”- says a very fond Dan. Phil is giggling so much. 0:44 “I’m making her excited for life. Come out!”- says a Phil that I am very fond of 0:50 Louise is already done with these two dorks. 1:33 I don’t know why it cracks me up so much but Phil’s “I like to think I know a few things about the birds and the bees.” And the way Dan looks at him, gets me every time (I watched this three times before even beginning the notes/time stamping) 1:45 “Do I need to put your socks on later?” Phil to Louise 

More below, in sections by term!

1:55 “Gestation” 2:02 Phil can’t say “period” without laughing 2:10 “The little egg-sperm”- Phil 2:20 “Imagine you’re like baking a cake”- Phil 2:24 Definition 2:28 Phil makes sure we know he’s not a total idiot 2:33 “Ding ding ding.”-Louise “Ding.”- Phil “Wow.”- Dan 2:38 “Placenta” Phil defers immediately to Dan who has to explain his random humor to Louise. 2:58 Dan sharing accurate information about placenta 3:02 Several references to using and consuming placenta going forward 3:23 Afterbirth “landslide” delivery 3:41 “Alright, did it, let’s do an omelette.”- Dan 3:45 Freeze dried placenta pills 3:46 “Ohh I thought you were going to say sprinkled on cereal your cereal or something like that.”- Phil 3:53 “Ya could. Açaí berry and placenta sprinkles.”- Dan 3:56 “Fundal Height” 3:59 “That’s a sex act.”- Dan says really confidently 4:01 “Right babe, should we do the old fundal height?” Dan says complete with finger motions. Phil glancing at Dan. 4:30 Actual definition 4:40 Dan says a very quiet “Good guess” to Phil. 4:45 “Good guess, Phil.”- says a very supportive Dan “Thank you. Do I get that one?”- asks Phil, who only made a guess based on the word height. “Yeah, totally. I think so.”- says Dan, who guessed a sex act, so you know Phil was much closer. 4:50 Not a sex position, in case anyone needed clarification 4:55 “Episiotomy” “Ooo”- Phil is immediately intrigued and guesses: “I think that’s when you take a picture of the baby...” and Dan lets out a laugh, knowing that’s not it at all. 5:07 “Isn’t that to do with a rude... area?”- Dan 5:10 “You can say vagina. Vagina’s not rude it’s part of a woman’s body.”- Louise 5:15 “Does it just mean vagina though, or is it like surrounding area?” 5:20 Science and linguistic dads work out the meaning. 5:36 Definition. This whole section, Phil’s wide eyes and rapt attention and saying “yeah” to Louise’s “if your baby is coming out of your vagina”. He’s totally visualizing it. 5:47 You put it back in.”- Phil 5:50 The horror 6:02 “You don’t want to have like a vagina to butt... hole.”- Dan 6:06 “The diagonal escape route is much preferred.”- Dan 6:14 “Oh no! You thought she was going to give you a Haribo something.”- Phil whom I love. 6:18 “Imagine someone cutting your bellend.”- Louise using British slang for the head of the penis. (The firs of two things I learned from this video.) 6:28 “Two become one”- Louise sings. 6:36 “You can’t be grossed out by this stuff. We’ve all been born.”- Dan 6:40 “Waterbirth” 6:43 “Where you do it in a pool.”- sassy Dan 6:45 “You get into a big swimming pool and release the baby.”- Phil 6:50 Discussion of baby’s breathing underwater. No the umbilical cord is not a long nose Phil. Babies cannot be fish, whales, tiny dolphins or Aquaman. *Note: newborns have died from being submerged underwater for too long by negligent people. 7:22 “Mucus Plug” 7:25 “What?!” from Phil and giggles from Dan, turning into cracking up 7:28 “It’s all great. Biology is beautiful.”- Dan with side eye to Louise and more laughter. “Look at you.” Says Louise. 7:45 Just get Dani Snot On Fire to snort out some mucus over your episiotomy. 8:00 Definition 8:15 “Slime.”- Dan 8:20 “The literal cock block. If you wanna do it.”- Um not quite Dan... 8:25 “Colostrum” 8:28 “That means butt.”- Dan, “Butt.”- Phil echoes 8:33 “What’s a ‘trum’ Phil? That’s what we have to work out right now.”- Dan once again consulting with his linguistics major boyfriend. 8:40 “Trumm” they both sound out. “It’s an instrument.”- Dan who does an excellent trumpet imitation. 8:43 “It’s when if you’ve got twins they both come out at the same time.”- Jesus Christ, Phil. 8:57 “How big are the the vaginas you’ve seen in your life?”- Louise asks Phil, who clearly thinks lady’s can just have double doors, maybe French ladies do. No he rationalizes that “twins are smaller aren’t they?” 9:10 Definition: “the stuff that comes out of your boobies...” classy Louise 9:20 “You can sell that on eBay.”- Phil 9:21 “Boob nectar”- Dan (nipple nectar would have been so much better) 9:30 How does the boob know? 9:36 “Come on guys, let’s get some milkshake on.”- no Phil 9:42 “I love how shit you are at this.”- me too Louise 9:43 “Neonate” 9:44 “That sounds like something alien.”- classic Phil Phil explains its when you have an alien pregnancy, Louise says not many people have alien pregnancies, Phil counters quietly “You’d think that, but they do.” 9:53 How does Dan not know that neo means new? 10:02 Linguistics boyfriend is no help. “It’s when the guy from the Matrix has a baby.” 10:10 Definition 10:13 New baby, yay Dan, applause 10:20 Doula 10:22 “That’s not easy!”- Phil 10:30 “That’s a pop star isn’t it? ”- former BBC Radio 1 present Dan Howell 10:40 “It’s a part of the vagina that’s kept secret... until you need to use it.”- Dan whom I love 10:44 “A secret one?”- Phil who though vaginas were already confusing enough 10:50 Belly button popping 10:56 Definition 11:08 “Mother of Mothers”, “Mother of Dragons”, “Khaleesi.” 11:12 “I could be your doula.” Says Phil to Louise as he starts massaging her upper arm. Louise does not want Phil to be her doula. Acknowledges Phil has a *shred* more general knowledge, but thinks Dan is calmer. Phil agrees he wouldn’t stay calm. “It’s crowning!” after one minute. 11:44 “Jaws of destruction”- that’s a nice visual Dan 11:55 Phil would put a towel down if Louise went into labor here. 12:12 “We’d make you a warm bath, light some candles, not scented, cause that would like, be too stimulating (very good Dan). We’d hold your hands, call the ambulance-“ “And then I’d feed you a curry while it arrives.”- Phil, providing good inspiration for mpreg fics. 12:30 “Perineal Massage” bonus round 12:33 “Perineal is yer gooch”- Dan providing the second bit of slang I didn’t know. 12:42 The origin of the four finger and elbow massage we saw from Louise’s vlog. 13:16 Duct tape reinforcing suggestion from Phil. Super glue? No. 13:40 “Lower, lower, lower, lower.”- Dan getting very into it with his tongue. 13:51 “I’m so glad that I’m not having a baby with either of you.”- Louise 13:53 “Sorry.”- Dan “Thanks.”- Phil 13:55 “Although I think you’d be like great dads. (“Thank you.”- Phil) like in a Three Men in a Baby.”- Louise 14:06 “Philippa’s a strong name.”- Phil (I’m getting horrible Philippa video flashbacks) 14:20 Dan is delighted at her boy name choice of Daniel, Phil feels slighted. 14:30 “It’s on the list” Dan mouths with finger quotes. 14:44 The boys can be better friends and offer perineal massages to prevent episiotomies, “help it out, get the scissors”- Phil, “get some curry.”- what Dan is now expecting from Phil. 14:52 “I will be your- doula.” Dan nods so awkwardly proud of himself. 15:05 That smile Phil gives Dan when Louise says “anything else you want promote.” 15:07 “I want to promote their happiness.”- Wholesome Howell

[tryveryhard]

Six years

One. Tangled up in those big “look-at-me” necklaces, hung in the same cheap wood paneled-closets where women hung such things decades and decades before we, ourselves, were on the verge. So we got to talking. And we hated it, I’m sure. My hair thin and pressed close to my head, braces squeezing my teeth — this was still an era of low-rise jeans and believing life could end in acne-prone boys named Luke and Jake back home in Michigan. A had purple, died hair and didn’t believe in abortion, nor feminism. S had a heart-shaped face and a dimple at the end of her spine and believed in both. We all agreed upon peanut butter and cheap sheets. We were complete strangers doomed to share a room for at least a year. We would have to see one another’s breasts, our curved moons hanging in the dark. We would have to tell one another everything. We would have to share secrets across the room, across that wavy dark carpet, and think: adulthood. We would fall in love with one another by Christmas break.

This all seemed terribly exciting, our semi-sheer shirts and dining-hall salads. I wrote none of this down. I watched a boy get carried out of our dorm hall — Washington Hall, 49 E. Green Drive — and into the ambulance that waited for him on the slick pavement. I watched this scene from the window of my dorm stairwell, all covered in cracked plaster, and thought about how it felt awfully like the slick tile of the bathroom walls in my elementary school. Exotic, cool. I cried several times that year in public, and would pace around the lobby in that yellow glow, all panicked, calling my parents while I sobbed on the floor of the single bathroom that locked. And it always felt so haunted back then, that place. I realize now that’s because the whole placed dripped with the choking sobs of other young people. I touched at least five strange penises that year. I fucked at least two that I can remember. And that year, I became both addicted and un-addicted to Camel Blues. I got my braces off and grew my hair past my ears. I went to Pittsburgh for the first time, teetered around in high heels, and realized I still had growing up to do. The girls I fell in love with, we’d forget one another soon. But I left letters for them the day we left that room. And I think of them each day, trapped in that small square, us crashing against the walls of our teeny-tiny brains. Two. This was the year I got a better down comforter for my twin-sized mattress and became inextricably involved with people in the military. My roommate that year, H, had an eating disorder and a boyfriend who didn’t want to fuck her when she was bloated. She also wanted to be a nurse in the Navy. She studied relentlessly. And somewhere between Pittsburgh and leaving that room, I had fallen impossibly in love with a boy who would leave for a military base that October. I did not realize then that every woman must go through this at least once, this plot. I loved him for his height and for his almost endearing violence when he kissed me in parking lots. Naturally I never told him any of this, but as a matter of perseverance I’m sure he and two other men loved me that winter. I did not know then that it was odd for a 25-year-old to lure a 19-year-old to bed — a bed in his parents’ house, then a guest bed in his sister’s house — when he got off his job at Lowes. This felt perfectly in-line with my trajectory, what I was supposed to be doing when not coaxing my roommate to eat something other than a can of corn and $15 handle of vodka. He broke up with me over text, I threw myself into the student newspaper, then a skinny, short boy who would hold my hand as we left philosophy class. He lent me several hoodies I never returned, and I had sex with him until he told me he loved me and I determined I couldn’t do anything but ignore him for the rest of my life. Nonetheless, I remember wondering if I could marry a short man, if this was my life. Then back to the student newspaper. Work, work, work. Many nights in a fluorescent hallway, fingering the gray carpet and whispering into the phone the whole, I. Can’t. Do. This. One night, after covering a student protest, a boy walked me back to my dorm and kissed me, suddenly. This was the sweetest moment of that year. His dorm room smelled entirely of garbage but it allowed me to climb the steepest set of stairs on campus and observe, so viscerally, the campus I had grown to know in the past year. I never felt afraid. This boy and I, we went to church. Then I took his virginity, and I determined I couldn’t do anything but ignore him for the rest of my life. He asked if we could have one last kiss which I, cruelly, found pathetic. Especially sad because he had once carried me home when my heels were too bruising, and no man would ever do that again. Work, work, work. I suddenly woke up to the fact that my life had been rife with problems. My mother was a drug addict. How did I not realize this before? I did, I did. I started making both more destructive and more impressive decisions with this knowledge. I went to a conference in Atlanta and ate brisket and began telling everyone all at once that my life was a tragedy. I drank cheap wine with strangers and decided, weeks later, to aggressively kiss a boy I had just decided to love. Then I took him back to his home, crashed into his cheap blue sheets, and I told him he was weird, and we saw each other for the next year, just like that. Me thinking he was weird. Me taking him home. Those girls from the first year, at that point, had melted into background noise. But I lived in the attic of S’s mom that summer, which is astounding now that I think of it. I moved into a home with humid green trees, a grand staircase, no furniture. And my bedroom, larger than the one in Queens now, had two windows that framed the bed and buzzed with cicadas. I went there every weekend, and I have no memory of what exactly that meant. I became editor of the student newspaper for no reason at all, except for that I wanted to feel something. I went to New York City for the first time as an adult and drank chilled sangria in Harlem, radiating terror.

Three.

This was the year of machinery. Synapses in my mind click, click, clicking to remind me I was knocking out my minutes and careening toward the end. I made big promises that that are difficult to think of now. I ate so many meals in bed. I was playing dress-up at 20 years old, with all those adult meetings and tears and assumptions that life began and ended with the student newspaper, with my own thoughts. In some ways, I was half-right. I grew my hair long, met with professors constantly. Studied, studied, studied. After all that swallowing of misery, I began the fast climb out of the pits, desperate. I do not remember if I wrote this year. I do remember that I fell out of love quicker than I had fallen into it, would go weeks without talking to that man, would try to end our relationship over and over to no avail. Everyone hated me this year and I could feel it cloaking me, that dismay. I started drinking white wine out of coffee mugs, laying in bed watching documentaries all weekend and thinking about how I was on fire. Big, magic, the life waiting for me outside. This was the year of optimization, the year of Girl Boss. I am sure there were many cardigans in my closet. I sent many emails. Too many emails. I started to have the impression that I was becoming something bigger than myself, bigger than my past, bigger than this school. I kept crying in meetings. This was mania, pure mania, after all. I worked until 4 a.m. some nights, slept until 8 a.m., went to class, never anywhere else. I was made to constantly meet with old men who didn’t care for me much. I went down the hall to sit in Ian’s bed, nightly, drinking beers in silence, thinking that I had never been so exceptional. Every once and a while I completely lost my mind, but never quite openly. I would sometimes get phone calls late at night, a message from the newspaper printing facility saying something had gone wrong, and I’d drive barefoot back to that tower where we made the thing nobody read so I could I’d fix it. And maybe it’s the prospect of fixing that made me feel so unrecognizable and knowing that year. There was so much that was broken, after all. I forgot my one-year anniversary with that guy, yet realized I was fine doing the same thing two years in a row. I do not remember when I discovered I had gotten that internship. I do not remember when I realized I’d move to New York after all. I do remember that before all of that transpired, all of that hope, I cracked and slipped back into angst. I went home and pressed myself into the ink-stained jeans I wore throughout high school, bought magazines on foreign policy, lied to my parents. I was 21. I met with my ex-boyfriend at a Coney Island, laid in his tobacco-scented scrawny arms, and kissed him, shaking with anticipation. A reintroduction to my 15-year-old self after all those nights spent pretending there had ever been anything else, and many more nights trying to forget. We shuddered with all the years we had lost, and I slid under his body again, and we watched skateboarding videos on a thin mattress on his floor. Before I left for New York, I realized it would unlikely work in the long-term. Then I hit his friend’s car on accident, moved to an unfamiliar city, and for whatever reason, slept in the same bed as my ex-boyfriend every night for three months in an apartment that smelled like new paint. He pissed in an Uber. I developed an odd relationship with a comedian named Alec, who I saw once in person, like a mirage, getting off the 2 train and walking away from me. I discovered a new egg and sausage sandwich at Clark Avenue, and I wandered about with Seth, slowly losing my mind. My calves, though, were hardened by all the nervous pacing I did that summer. I got a plane and went back home, with the newfound strength to wear slip-on vans with sheath dresses that hit below the knee. Four.

My room in Athens was haunted by cicadas, rainy mornings. Always impossible hot, yet I surrounded myself in blankets and pillows. I still drew on my eyeliner thick. And my bathtub still clogged with hair, soaking my feet in cold, gray water. I still felt those minutes click, clicking away but I also felt desperate to gain them back. The first night, a Friday, I wore a tank top and met Reba at a wood-paneled bar called Tony’s, drinking white wine, thinking: just like Manhattan. I met my ex-boyfriend from sophomore year thinking: he’s not gay, I think. And I had sex with him half-heartedly that night in one of those dingy college-guy rooms, with the bad sheets and a handful of the posters and the sense that this is all fading fast, just for kicks. But he only lived up the hill from my home, and I knew I could stumble on back to my own bed before 2 a.m. And I did just that. That morning, I ate three scrambled eggs on a plastic plate. I prepared an three boxes amount of pasta because I was determined to have people like me that year. I walked it over to the home of a boy I knew only marginally, named Alex. I wore a black shirt, patterned shorts, sandals, and that thick eyeliner. I was still in a fit of insanity from the night before, thirsting for all my new bad decisions. His roommate was tall, lanky, wore black pants and a short-sleeved button up shirt. I thought: he’s balding, and covering it up with a hat. I thought: he’s odd. He came up behind me when I was drinking my second bottle of red wine in the basement, all caked with alcohol, all under the glare of an ex-boyfriend from my sophomore year. I was playing Danzig, and he made some comment I was too drunk to process. I went up to that yellow-lit kitchen and tried to clean the dishes I had brought. I wanted everyone to eat pasta. I wanted to clean up everything as if I had never been there. I wanted so badly to stop thinking the past three years were for nothing. The boy, the roommate with the hat, stopped me and told me I didn’t have to wash the dishes. Don’t worry about it. I asked him if he wanted to kiss, and he nodded and leaned into me, and we feverishly toppled onto the front porch. I took him to the same bar where I was the night before, kissed him, and he took me into the other bar I was at the previous night — the wood-paneled one — and walked me home. Inexplicably, we sat in my bed while I talked about the summer I had just crawled out of. I told him about the articles I had written, Manhattan. Does this sound impressive? Does this make me likable? He did not kiss me goodbye. He merely disappeared down the stairs, long legs carrying him back to the kitchen with all the dishes I wasn’t allowed to clean. I knew his first name: Michael. And he waved to me the next morning, sat behind me as if I had not disclosed all those things and kissed him on his porch. He left without a word, turning to walk beneath the tall oak trees flush with summer, stepping into that flickering light. And I loved him, honestly. Would’ve died for him. But I spent the next few months tumbling into his bed, trying to deny that. Trying to pretend I was still my productive self from the year prior, but always thinking of him and wishing I were beneath him. One autumn night I ran out of his home, terrified of him, and straight into a field where I laid down without my phone. I thought: I hope I die. Instead, I told him I loved him that January. Instead, I replaced some of my ambition with his Friday nights. I spent my last night of college on his floor, watching heat lightning ripple across that Ohio sky, and was unable to figure out whether I had been incredibly stupid or incredibly astute these past four years, falling in and out of love with many things and people. I did not talk to my roommates from the first year anymore. I did not talk to my roommates from the second year. I was hardly talking to my current roommates, having practically moved into Michael’s. I was still doing the student newspaper six days a week, but part of me didn’t feel as committed because I had gradually become less insane. I thought. I did not write my name on the wall with the rest of the people who had worked there, at the same time, did not say goodbye, because I thought: these people still hate me. And I drove out of Ohio without any tears.