#they look so friend. i met loads of them on my last trip to mexico and i haven't stopped thinking about them since.

[sciderman]

sci i have a vintage donald duck anthology <3 i appreciate that you have some odd hyperfixations bc i have a TON

🤝

we love duck

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.2)

Title: Lost in Zero Gravity (Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,072 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Song inspo for this fic

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You must have made a really good first impression,” Tatiana commented, blowing out a ring of smoke. Her charcoal lined eyes creased with her pleased smile.

You shrugged, “I was just working.”

“Don’t try to be modest now. It’s not becoming on you,” she laughed in response.

She had called you into her office to tell you that you had been specifically requested for an assignment. It seemed Tony and Steve’s mob were going to be taking a vacation and they wanted you available. You were not one to turn down a paid vacation, especially if they were going to be there. As dangerous as they were, they had been a good fuck and Tony had made sure to get you off. That was far more than probably eighty percent of the people you had been with since you started working the service.

You hated the smell of the cigarette smoke and it was always the hovering stench in her office. She was going to kill herself far too young and maybe shave a few years off your life in return for however she made you stand in here. You adored her, there was no doubt about that. But you wished she would kick the habit.

“Where are they going?” you asked, feigning that you were contemplating about refusing the assignment.

“Riviera Maya.” You narrowed your eyes and she said, “It’s in Mexico.”

An inclusive resort no doubt. It could be fun. Maybe you could ask someone to travel with you so you would not be completely alone when they were not wanting to bed you. Or maybe not… some time alone might do you well.

Tatiana added, “Wives are going to be there though.”

“So, why am I gonna be there?” you asked honestly.

Tatiana snorted, “Oh, stellina.” She took another deep inhale exhaling as she said, “There are so many things there to keep the spouses occupied. They’re rarely together except for dinner. It’s just for appearances.”

Rich people’s lives sounded exhausting.

“You just need to be out in the open, keeping yourself available for them whenever they have an opportunity to slip away and have some fun with you. Otherwise, just keep yourself occupied with the beach and nice drinks. I know you hate suntanning but there are shops to poke around in. I know you like shopping.”

“That I do.”

“Maybe they’ll give you extra.”

“I don’t want to go around trying to get greedy.”

Tatiana smirked at that. “That’s my girl. I trained you well.”

<><><>

Pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, you hopped up onto one of the barstools on the bar you had just walked by and circled back to. You had yet to see either Tony or Steve and you had been here since yesterday. The place was relaxing and the room was great. You had basically sunk into the bed, having one of the best nights of sleep you had had in a long while without any noise from Elisha in her room along your wall back home. Leaning over the counter, you asked for a strawberry lemonade.

“Strawberry lemonade? It’s a party, dollface.”

You recognized that voice and you straightened back up, turning your head to look in his direction.

Steve was standing there, leaning on the counter. He was a sight for sore eyes. He was only in swim trunks, aviator glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. That did not hide the fact you knew his eyes were running unabashedly over your body. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him, thinking of how he handled you last time.

“I bought this specifically for this vacation,” you said, hopping down from the stool and turning around for him to let him see the whole suit. When you turned back around, he was grinning. “It looks good right?”

He nodded, “You look damn sexy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“My wife is here,” Steve said, and you frowned instantly at this immediate change in conversation. Was he trying to kill the mood so quickly? He said, “I know. She’s got her little masseuse guy here to keep her entertained, so I should be able to have my own fun. But I’m trying to be good.”

Picking up on his hint, you sauntered towards him. Your hand came up, resting on his chest. “Why do you have to be good if she isn’t being good?”

“I had to hold it in until she ran off,” he told you.

You pulled his sunglasses down to see his eyes, keeping them on the bridge of his nose. You smiled when you were able to actually meet his gaze.

“Well, when do you get to not be good?”

“Right now,” he said and you smiled in response. “It’s why I came and found you. I saw you yesterday. Wandering around. Took everything in me to not come up to you. Looked like you found yourself a nice little boyfriend though?”

“He was trying really hard but no… no dice for that guy,” you told him.

You pushed his glasses back up and your arms wrapped around his neck. He grinned back at you, his fingers tracing along your exposed back.

“I’m assuming you’re liking what you’re seeing?”

“Very much,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the hem of your suit.

You nuzzled your nose to his. “Hmm. So we know where this is going?”

<><><>

You stood in front of the mirror, completely bare. Steve had brought you back to their villa. Tony’s wife was gone, off to a spa treatment. The room had a wide door open to the patio overlooking the ocean. There was a hot tub and pool on the patio and although you wanted to indulge, you refrained. You got undressed for them instead, waiting for them to get antsy enough to take charge. It did not take long as you predicted.

Tony came up from behind you, nude as well. His hands ran across your breasts, cupping.

“Don’t you look marvelous…” he murmured, his fingers tweaking at your erect nipples. You bucked ever so slightly, and he smirked. His nose came to nuzzle into the nape of your neck. “I knew I chose right… a perfect gem.”

“You still seem to like what you’re seeing?”

He chuckled, one hand snaking down to toy with the top of your sex.

“You’re gonna look even better underneath that mirror.”

You turned in his arms, your forehead pressing against his. “A man that likes to review his work. I don’t know if I should be worried.”

“I didn’t get to where I am by being a half ass.”

Steve was at your other side and he enveloped you to him. To both of them, you asked, “Any critiques?”

“Loaded question,” Steve chuckled. “I mean, the biggest is you haven’t sunk one of your holes on either of us. I mean, it’s been a whole five minutes. What’s the hold up?”

“Sorry, I was enjoying the company.”

He kissed the tip of your nose lightly, “And I’m sorry for being so charismatic.”

“I’m assuming you can’t multitask then? Be charismatic and fuck me at the same time?”

A low growl left his mouth now, “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at fucking all,” he told you pulling you over to the bed.

Steve was looking upwards, and you knew he was taking in the sight of you hovering over him as you sunk onto his length in the ceiling mirror. His eyes were swimming with arousal and you hoped to always be the cause for that.

<><><>

“Y/N, you got a gift,” Wendy said, pointing at the table as you walked into the brothel’s kitchen. You had come in to get a drink but smiled seeing the bouquet and gift.

“Really?” you asked, letting your backpack fall from your shoulder and along with your carry-on drop to the ground. You had just gotten back from Mexico; that was quick if it was from who you thought it was. Upon seeing the flowers, you knew your assumption had been correct. They had asked you what your favorite flowers were and even though that was extremely obvious why they were asking, you had told them all the same.

The bouquet was large and there was a nice heart balloon in the center. You smiled, leaning in and smelling the flowers deeply.

“Where’d you get those from?” Elisha asked, coming into the kitchen. You shrugged, smiling sheepishly, and she rolled her eyes, giving a little laugh, “I know exactly where those came from.”

“There’s also this,” you said picking up the gift bag from beside it, waving it at her.

“That’s dangerous,” Elisha commented, grabbing the bloody mary that Wendy had made her. They must have had a rough night.

You shrugged again, opening the bag. Your lips curled into a smile as you pulled out a bright blue teddy. “Cute,” you giggled. Elisha and Wendy shook their heads, taking a drink. You held it up against your body and asked, “Think they want me to wear it for next time?”

“I don’t think they bought it for shits and giggles,” Wendy snorted. “How was the trip?”

“It was nice.”

“Good to hear it. You should relish in this.”

“Oh, I am,” you said, putting the teddy back into the bag. You thought of the extra money that Steve had tucked into your bag, remembering that you should tuck that away. It was smarter to not spend all the money that was thrown at you. That is what fools did; you needed to think ahead.

<><><>

The dress was loose and casual, perfect for the saloon they had asked you to meet them at. They had sent a car for you and met you at the curbside. When you got out, you looked around, cocking an eyebrow at the sight of them dressed in nice, pressed jackets. You were going into a dive bar, what were they doing?

Tony took your arm, Steve trailing behind. “Hmm, a sun pattern,” Tony commented, his fingers pulling at the fabric of your dress.

You gripped his arm, smiling. “I like to be a shining beacon in people’s lives.”

Tony chuckled in response, his grip tightening on your waist. The bouncer did not ask for your IDs; they must know them. It was dimly lit, packed. There were dancers on the stage and your eyes were drawn to their movements. The woman dancing had curves to die for.

“Where we going?” you asked as they led you through the bar. Your eyes ran around the tables the further you went in. Did they have a reservation?

“For the real party, sweetheart,” Tony told you, his lips brushing your ear. You shivered at the touch.

It was dark back here and you tensed. Tony felt it, a light chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got you.”

Two men were standing in front of a door and they opened it when they saw the three of you approaching. There was a table with a group of other men, looking like they were waiting for the three of you. There were a handful of other women sitting around the perimeter of the room behind the players. They made brief eye contact with you, sizing you up quickly before averting their eyes again.

“Took you fucking long enough,” one of them drawled at Tony and Steve.

“Sorry, we were waiting for our lucky dame,” Tony returned.

Tony kissed your hand as you sat, before he turned away and sat in his chair. Steve’s hand grazed you affectionately, before he sat down as well.

You sat quietly, watching them play. It was poker, that much you knew. It was intense, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. They were taking this seriously and you surmised they were gambling a bunch of money.

Steve was staring across the table at the first man who had spoken to them when they walked in, his eyes narrowed. The other man was not flinching but something must have been a tell for Steve because he pushed chips forward.

“Well, senator… I’m gonna raise you,” Steve commented.

Your heart stopped a bit, hearing him call him that. Your eyes narrowed at the man across the table. You did not pay attention to politics but the way the man’s face scrunched at Steve’s tone… you knew he had to be one. A senator. What had you let them drag you into?

The man chewed on his lip before throwing his cards down on the table without showing what they were.

Steve’s mouth broke into a wide grin and he held out his hands.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” the man snarled before getting up from the table. He buttoned his suit jacket, leaving the room without a second glance.

“Sore loser,” Steve commented, much to the amusement of the other men at the table to your surprise. You thought they would be more angry about losing the money they had but maybe the man had been a common enemy.

They gathered up the chips, tossing them into a bag. Tony’s hand snaked around your waist.

“Wanna spend this?” Tony asked, grinning broadly, holding the bag up to you as he guided you towards the door. You giggled and he kissed your cheek. “Steve’s treated us. But especially you, baby.”

<><><>

Pulling your dress back on over your head, you straightened it, making sure it was covering your ass. It was short and you did not need to be flashing anyone on the sidewalk.

“You sure you don’t want me to order you a cab…?” the man asked from behind you, taking a long drag on his joint. He was still lying in bed, watching you get dressed.

Confidently, you turned around, fluffing your hair. You shook your head, “It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a tough cookie,” he said, shooting you a smile.

“I try to be,” you said winking at him, grabbing your purse.

You left his place quickly, heading back to the brothel. It was not a lie, it was not far.

The distance did not matter though when it came to what was waiting for you outside.

A hand closed around your arm, yanking you into an alley. You screamed but another hand slapped across your mouth as you were slammed up against the wall. Your heart was pounding, your eyes wide in fear staring at your assailant.

Your fear melted away to a mixture of anger and disgust. You would recognize those hazel eyes anywhere. You had stared into them far too many times as he towered over you, beating you into submission. You had run away from them far too many times, locking yourself in the bedroom until he got tired of trying to beat the door down.

Garnering strength from a place you did not know existed, you shoved him away, much to his surprise. He did not expect you to fight back, and he stumbled back.

“Have you been fucking following me?” you demanded, your chest heaving.

“Just interested to see what you’ve been doing since you ran off. Looks like you are visiting a bunch of men,” Jared sneered at you, getting back on his game and closing the space between you. Your fists clenched by your sides and he noticed, smirking. “You gonna hit me?”

“No,” you spat.

“So, what’s got you leaving someone’s apartment this time of night, baby?”

“That is none of your business.”

He shoved you back into the wall and you winced against the cement scratching at your skin. You swallowed it though, clenching your jaw, glaring at him. You were acting far braver than you felt. Jared always had the power to make you feel small and weak and it seemed just his presence had that same power. You felt just as helpless as you did a year and a half ago. He was frightening; you knew what violence he could unleash.

“What’s this?” Jared asked, yanking at your purse.

“Nothing, it’s my purse!” you said, your hands closing around it to try to yank it back from him.

“Looks pretty expensive, Y/N… Marc Jacobs? What have you been up to?”

He gave another hard yank, and the chain broke and you hissed against the pressure against your shoulder as it snapped away from you. You reached for it and he shoved you back again, harder this time and you let out a pained noise. Your eyes searched the buildings that surrounded you, hoping someone would be looking out the windows and be able to come to help you. It looked like no such luck.

He yanked out the hundreds the man you had just left had given you.

His eyes were dark, glowering at you. “Where’d you get this?”

“From work!”

His backhand was swift, knocking you off balance. But he was there to catch your falling momentum only to slam you up against the wall for the third time, his forearm pressed into your throat. You gasped, trying to breathe.

“You left me to spread your legs all over the city?”

“What are you talking about?” you exclaimed pitifully, trying to deny it. Your hands clawed at his arm and he only pressed in harder, making you gasp more desperately.

“I saw you go into that building with that man. Yes, I was following you! And you come back out with all this money? I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were a worthless slut.”

Tears pricked at your eyes and he growled, “You always did cry too soon for my liking.”

Your purse fell to the ground and his other hand reached up between your legs. You tried to fight him, and he socked you this time. Your head knocked against the wall and you saw stars.

Jared pushed away and you crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. You squeezed your eyes tightly, trying to gain back some sense of balance.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout from far off.

All you could see was Jared’s shoes coming in and out of your vision. You felt a sharp pain in your stomach making you lose all your breath before his shoes were gone. You blinked again before losing consciousness as you saw a new pair of shoes come into your line of sight.

~~~

Tags: coconutqueen21

[mrvdocks]

Selcouth

You shouldn’t have come on this stupid trip. Not even if it had opened you up more to him. If anything, you felt this trip had soured the more time had passed. Alex could tell. But you two had to play it safe, play the parts that Karl thought you two assumed from his perspective. You resented that, having to stick to an image that he had formed of you, one that tried to act like you weren’t so in love with him it made your heart ache. 

Or,

You and Alex plan a meet up with Karl for a week trip, only to have your feelings for Karl be put to the test when things don’t pan out how you all planned. (Karl Jacobs/Reader)  

After

“Stop it.” He says, voice serious and no longer joyful or even hinting at friendliness. You’ve heard Karl be serious many times but this time sounded different. This time he sounded like he was scolding a child after being annoyed by them repeatedly. 

“Stop what?” You ask, pretending to be aloof.

“Stop acting like a child!”

“I’m the one acting like a chil - since when was doing something I want, acting like a child?!” 

He makes a hmpf sound. “What is this supposed to be, payback? Is that what you’re playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything here, Karl. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He scoffs. “Oh yeah? So you just suddenly developed an interest in Dream overnight, is that it?” 

“Honestly, why do you care so much? My love life isn’t up for debate here.” 

“Oh and mine was?” He retorts.

You knew he would bring it up, you just knew. It was perfect ammo right now. You stutter to find the right words. 

“What - what do you want from me Karl? I don’t need to explain myself to you. Have you considered that maybe I just finally got tired of being alone? That maybe I just needed someone?” 

Karl tries to not let this dig push him over the line but his frustration and jealousy wouldn’t let him stop seeing green. 

“Is this what you do? You like playing with people's feelings? Do you think screwing my friends is going to help you or is this another one of your phases?”

It feels good in the heat of the moment but he knows he’s messed up as soon as he says it. 

Your mouth drops open. Incredible. In-fucking-credible.  

You laugh bitterly, trying to put up a strong front but your voice betrays you by cracking. “That’s low, Karl. That’s - really fucking low.”

Instantly regretting it, he tries to make amends but can’t put words together properly. His mind reels, heart races, palms suddenly feel sweaty and all he can manage is your name. “(Y/N)......I -”

You can’t bear to hear another false apology spill from his lips. If that’s how he felt, then there was no changing his mind. No matter how badly you wanted to. 

“No you’re right. You’re right. You made your choice and so have I. Goodbye Karl.” You conclude and hang up, throwing your phone across the room. You stare at it until your vision becomes blurry with tears. 

Where do you go from here?

Before

You didn’t think that when you first started streaming that you’d end up at the point you were now. You just wanted to have fun with your friends, maybe meet some new people, share your interests along with the loads of games you found amusing. Interestingly enough, your personality and content seemed to resonate with a lot of people. 

Pretty soon you’d become one of the top streamers on Twitch behind the other big talent that once dominated your dashboard. 

You’d made your way into the big leagues with names like GeorgeNotFound, Dream, Quackity, Nihachu, and even Karl Jacobs. Though you’d met the latter two years ago, you’d become quick friends with Quackity, or Alex(is), having bonded over having similar backgrounds and interests. 

He was more like a brother to you than anything, much to the chagrin of many in the chat. You believe it had to do with growing up in a family with mostly girl siblings. 

Your collabs with Alex garnered lots of views, with people tuning into the streams to watch you two yell at each other chaotically while playing odd games or attempting to bake things. 

Of course, while he did your side of content, that meant you had to hold up your end of the bargain. Minecraft wasn’t your strong suit at first, but as time went on and with some help from both Alex and Karl, you became a little more proficient. 

Karl was no stranger to you, not anymore. Alex had introduced you to Karl a little after he started streaming. You’d only really known him from a couple of Jimmy’s videos. 

He seemed kind, goofy, friendly, and all around a pretty fun guy to be around. Which is why when you started to fall just a little bit for him, you were surprised. You came into this Twitch thing with one rule. Don’t fall for people. 

Things could get messy, it was always a given. The fandoms would tear into you or them, people were unpredictable. It was just better to keep everyone at an arm's length when it came to shipping. 

You were thankful nothing had come to fruition from your friendship with Alex. If anything, all you saw were people shipping you platonically. Though you two would often tease each other if one had a crush on someone. 

Your dynamic with Alex meant that you had countless ridiculous and outrageous moments together, often documenting them when he would visit you in LA from Mexico or you going to Mexico to see family and stopping by to visit him.

It was starting to become a thing you two did a few times a year. This year was no different. Even when the pandemic seemed to sour your plans, you both promised to stay safe and healthy and limit the trips. So far, this was going to be the first trip you two would be taking anywhere. 

Your phone buzzed next to you as you scrolled mindlessly through your discord server. You laughed a bit here and there, looking at memes and chatting with people. 

Alex’s text ringtone was him rage quitting during a game where you absolutely obliterated his ass. You either cracked up at the sound of it or jumped in sudden fear when it bounced off the walls of your apartment in the middle of the night. 

A: Hey wiener, are you packed?? I know you take like three business days to get ready. 

You rolled your eyes. He was supposed to be coming to visit you first before you both made the flight out to see Karl in North Carolina. 

Y: Me??? I’ve been packed since last week. I thought you were supposed to be on the flight here already 🙄

A: I may or may not…...already be out. 💀

Your eyes widen. You abandon the chat and hit the FaceTime button. He lets it ring for a good five seconds before he accepts it and greets you with a close up of his face.

“What am I looking at?” You ask, feigning disgust. 

“My beautiful face, what else?” 

“Really? I thought it was a dog’s asshole.” You chuckle. 

He guffaws. “Fuck off! First I get stranded here in LA, then I get some shitty chicken nuggets and now you’re calling me butt ugly! Why does life hate me so much?!”

“Menso! You were supposed to call me when you - wait did you say chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah, I still have the rest but I can’t finish because every time I chew I think of the pink slime.”

“Ugh don’t talk about Supersize Me, I’m still having nightmares about it. Who shows that to little kids??” 

“Yeah well it’s shit, Burger King’s better.” He admits, munching down on the nuggets. He chews obnoxiously near the phone speaker to annoy you so you tap at the screen in retaliation. 

“Hey, I was supposed to record you trying out American McDonald’s! Why are you taking sweet sweet content away from me? Now no one gets to see you lose your McVirginity!”

He sputters through a mouthful of nuggets and does a combination of coughing and laughing. 

“Anyways,” he says, finally nugget free. “You coming or not? I don’t think I wanna sleep on the airport floor.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” 

The airport was a forty five minute drive, thirty if you stepped on it and committed several traffic violations. 

Maybe that would make good content. 

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your home, fully prepared to go fast and furious. You put your windows down, connected your phone to the aux and blasted Tokyo Drift as you merged into the freeway. 

Half an hour later, you’d arrived at a packed airport pick up area and texted Alex to let him know you’d arrived. He replied that he was starting to feel the effect of the chicken nuggets but that he would push through people to get out of the building before he caught anything from anyone.

Once you could make out his figure up ahead in front of the other cars, you got the bright idea to switch your music to something more interesting. You pulled up one of his videos where he was fully invested in a rendition of Hey There Delilah and honked excessively once you got closer to him. He looked around and pulled his beanie down lower to hide his face in embarrassment. 

You and the prerecorded Quackity sang in off key unison with the volume up as much as you could before he threw his luggage and bags into your backseat, hopped into the passenger seat and put the volume down.

“Never do that again.” 

“Hey, that was your welcome salute. I don’t do that for other people, you’re special and I like it.”

“Could you try liking me a little less? I could do without all the cringe covers.” He laughed to himself as he buckled up. 

The ride home consisted of a mix of very poor and impressive impressions of characters that would’ve annoyed nearly anyone else except you. Alex alternated from a gruff impression of Squidward to a raunchy Mickey Mouse that left you doubling over and gripping the steering wheel. You competed with him, doing your worst impression of Cookie Monster and Goofy. 

Your impression competition was interrupted by a phone call, Karl’s photo flashing flipped a panic switch in you as you scrambled to grab your phone. Alex takes your phone and extends his arm far from your reach. 

“Ah, ah, ah! No texting and driving! You want to kill us or something?!”

“I need to answer! What if he thinks I’m ignoring him?”

“I got it, I got it.” He assures, sliding the bar to unlock the phone and meet Karl face to face.

Karl makes a surprised sound, greeting Alex almost immediately. 

“Hey bub!” You chime in, keeping your eyes on the road but getting a glimpse of Karl in his frog outfit. 

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you were driving.”

“No it’s okay! I’m just coming back from picking up this idiot.” 

“Who you calling idiot, dumbass?” Alex suddenly burst into his Mickey Mouse voice from earlier, ending it with the iconic Mickey laugh. 

Karl seemed to eat it up, breaking into laughter. It was infectious enough to make you chuckle. 

“You guys excited for the trip? It’s looking really pretty here this time of year. I can’t wait to show you around.”

“You mean show us your sweater collection?” Alex jabs.

You nudge him roughly to the side as a warning, glaring at him when he glances at you. 

You’d hoped that the change of scenery would do you some good. LA was an endless heap of  heat that you never could seem to escape. Not even with air conditioning. It was October already, which normally would mean Fall, orange leaves, pumpkins everywhere, a complete shift in temperature, right? Nope. 

It was the devil’s asshole all year round, something Alex could attest to. 

“Don’t mind him, I think he was dropped as a kid.”

“How dare you! There is nothing wrong with me, I’m perfect.”

“Ha! Sure. As if you don’t have a lot of things wrong with you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

You tap at the time on your screen, “We don’t have enough time to get into it.”

You turn your attention back to Karl, very attentive to your bickering, small chuckles here and there. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with you that you felt your hands falter on the wheel. You were lucky enough that it didn’t make you stray away from the road. 

“Um - you know what? We’ll call you later, we’re almost home anyways.” 

“Okay! Be safe! Goodnight. ” Karl bids you both goodbye and poses his phone in front of him in order to hug it from afar, as if to hug both you and Alex. 

You groan to yourself, pretending to bang your head against the steering wheel as soon as you pull up to your complex. Alex laughs at your misery. 

“Oh man, you really are down BAD.”

“Shut up! I regret telling you things sometimes.” 

“No one said you had to! I guess I just have one of those faces.” He Chad swipes at his chin and squints at you.

“Yeah, punch able.” You remark with a quirk of your brow, slipping out of the car and heading to your front door. 

Alex follows, grabbing his things in a hurry before you can get the chance to lock him out and leave him to sleep with the coyotes. 

“Don’t leave me out here! I’m too delicious to die!” He cries.

You’re awoken by the feeling of warm sunlight on the left side of your face. You hesitate to move, feeling tired already even though you’re sure you slept longer than you should’ve. 

You prop yourself up by your elbows, shielding your face from the sun with your hand. You get out of bed groggily, staring at the floor for a second before making your way to the living room and finding Alex sleeping in a weird position. 

Amused, you rush back into your room and grab your phone to document this moment and post it on Twitter. However when you return, he’s gone. You lean over the couch to check if he’s hiding behind it but he’s nowhere to be found. 

You’re about to crouch to check for his feet or any sign of him when you feel fingers dig in your sides. You yelp in fear and surprise, smacking your attacker until he starts to yell in a shrill voice. 

Alex pushes you over the couch making you fall on your ass. 

“WHAT THE HELL?!” You scream. 

“That’s what you get for trying to take pictures of me!”

You try to stand, rubbing at your sore ass. “Ugh, what are you, a cryptid or something? The people have a right to see!”

“No one gets to see me in the morning! No one! I need my beauty sleep more than you.”

He extends a helping hand for you to take in a moment of truce but you take advantage and pull him down with you to land on his back. He groans when he hits the ground and curses at you in Spanish. 

“Play time’s over, we gotta get ready. The plane leaves in…..one hour????!” 

Your phone says it’s only nine in the morning but you hazily remember the tickets reading ten thirty. 

“No way! I have to take a shower, I have to order food….” He begins, counting on his fingers the various things he suddenly had to do but you stop him by running into your room and getting your bags. 

“No time! Brush your teeth, get dressed, I’ll buy us something at the airport.”

“NOOOO! Airport food is disgusting! Can’t we stop somewhere?” 

“Like I said, no time! We gotta be out of here in thirty minutes.”

He grumbles under his breath. 

“I heard that!” You yell behind you, grabbing a towel and turning on your shower. 

After Alex rummaged through your kitchen, stuffed himself with some snacks and an alarming amount of frozen food, you urged him to shower in the little time span you had left and ordered a ride to take you to the airport. 

You had to basically pull him away from putting on his finishing touches with his beanie, with him complaining that his hair wouldn’t settle under it the way he wanted. You rolled your eyes and shoved him and your stuff into the Uber and kissed California goodbye. 

You two started planning what you’d do in NC as soon as you landed, besides getting food. You could practically hear Alex’s stomach grumbling the whole drive to the airport and even after the Uber gave him some snacks.

There was a sense of urgency that made your stomach twist in knots until you’d arrived at the drop off section. You stuck your tickets in your pocket as you hurried Alex, dragging him and urging him to run faster than he’d ever imagined to catch the plane. 

With only minutes to spare, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you panted and tried to regain it once you were at the gate. Alex makes a joke about you being out of breath to the pretty attendant that you make a note of later, just in case he tried to flirt with her. 

Alex followed the attendant like a puppy while you popped your phone out from your pocket and snapped a photo of the plane. You debated sending it to Karl, not sure if wanting your boarding to be a surprise or not. You relented to posting it on Twitter and sending it to Karl. 

Big things coming ;) You tweeted, exiting out of the app as quickly as you’d posted it, knowing you’d be flooded with notifications. 

You switched over to message, sending it to Karl but unsure if he would be awake right now. Maybe it would make his day better. 

On our way! See you soon! :)) 

You ran to catch up with Alex, finding him still talking to the attendant. In the most bitchy voice you could muster, you hugged him from the side and nestled your head into his shoulder. 

“I’m so happy we’re going on vacation babe, thank you!” 

His face fell, the attendant suddenly losing interest and suggesting the two of you find your seats. You intertwine your hands with his and hold it up, making a joke about how you two were inseparable. 

He suppresses the urge to fight you and instead screams internally, whisper yelling to you as you both sit. “You couldn’t let me be a Chad once? Just once!” 

“That’s what you get for slamming me on my ass earlier.”

[glenncoco4]

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 7

••••

As she waits for the car in front of her to pull ahead, Kensi basks in the warmth of the bean juice as it moves its way down her throat. She so focused on her morning joe that she doesn’t notice the lone figure standing on the curb. Her brow furrows in confusion as he steps up to the side of the car. “Oh, my god, babe, what are you doing?”

The dirty shaggy blonde flashes his partner the gross yellow caps that are surrounding his teeth, earning a cringe. “Had a little LAPD undercover field trip early this morning. Can I get a ride?”

She extends her head towards him, sniffing as the unknown smell assaults her nostrils. “Is that you?”

“I like to go method, you know that.”

“That’s really disgusting.”

“I have to be convincing and the smell is a big part of that.” He places his arm against the window sill, sending his girl a wink. “So how bout that ride?”

“I love you but I wouldn’t let you ride in my trunk smelling like that.”

“Are you serious?”

It takes everything in her not to dry heave as a new odor enters her bubble. “Serious as that smell coming from your clothes.” Shaking her head, the brunette smirks, sending him a playful wink before driving off.

“No, no. No, no. Come on, Kens!”

“Bye, cutie.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he watches the retreating taillights fill his vision, leaving him stranded on the side of the road. “This is love.”

 ••••

Later that day the junior agent listens to the older man’s theory as to which direction the missing marines may have headed, but her instincts tell her that what he’s saying isn’t necessarily true. “I’m not so sure, Major. I found SUV tracks heading in the other direction.”

The older man rolls his eyes, almost challenging the brunette. “I’m pretty sure they’re heading away from Mexico.” He dismisses the pair, focusing on his own agenda before walking over to the rest of his team. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Did I just get blown off?” She turns to her boyfriend, honestly wondering why she’s at all surprised by the Major’s reaction. 

“Like Ronald McDonald at a PETA convention.” He shakes his head, knowing if anyone can track, its one Kensi Marie Blye. Without an ounce of doubt in his eyes, Deeks looks to her. “Hey, trust your gut.”

A barely there smile rises to her lips. She sees the absolute faith he has in her shining bright in his cerulean blues. It’s calming and gives her a moment to center herself. “Looks like somebody was being dragged, which seems to fit the scenario.” She follows the trail, but stops when its clear that it goes on for miles. 

Realization hits her and she tries to bite back a smile thinking about how her partner his gonna respond to what they have to do next. “You ready to go for a little ride?”

The words leave her lips and he can’t help the smile that spreads to his face. The image of her in nothing but satin lace saying those exact same words has him in a trance.

She sees his eyes glaze over as he licks his lips. Shaking her head, she can only imagine what’s going on in his head right now. “On the bikes, Marty, on the bikes.”

“So no hot desert sex then?” He playfully pouts. 

She ignores his question, walking off towards the dirt bikes in hopes that he didn’t notice the blush rise to her cheeks.

••••

Two hours later, Kensi suddenly stops, pulling of her helmet as her partner follows. “I’ll never understand why you do this for fun.”

The corner of her mouth curls into a smile when she watches him shake his hair. The dirty clothes mixed with his sun kissed skin does things to her, a lot of things. “You look rugged, babe. Wouldn’t make you for a four-star hotel camper.”

“Kens, the last time we went on vacation you and Kip went on an ATV adventure while me and the cupcake girls stayed at the pool all day and got pedicures.” He suddenly pauses, the first string of words suddenly washing over him. “Wait, you think I look rugged?”

“Yeah, like Malibu Ken, he wasn’t anatomically correct either.”

He eyes his girlfriend, challenging her. The squawk of laughter she lets out makes his heart flutter. He’s been working on her sense of humor for 20 years now, when she thinks she’s being funny somehow it makes the situation all the better. His little weirdo. But that also doesn’t mean he can’t ‘fight’ back. “In that case, I guess I’ll just have to keep what I have to myself.”

“You wouldn’t last 10 minutes.”

“Oh you think so?”

Her eyes follow him up and down as she examines his body, bitting her bottom lip. “I guess only time will tell. Oh, yeah, I forgot to ask, are you good with me walking around the house naked tonight? It’s just these clothes are so constricting today, I need a little bit of air.”

“Uh.” He’s left frozen in the hot desert sun, well all but one part of him. She’s gonna be the death of him, but what a way to go.

••••

Dread fills her being as she watches the guy who was chasing after her partner come back on the ATV. Her heart races, thinking about how his lifeless body could be laid out alone somewhere, but before she can get too deep into her thoughts the perpetrators surround the bulldozer spraying bullets right towards the brunette and marines.

They’re so focused on those they can’t see that they miss the lone assailant approach them on their side. Just has he lifts his gun, a series of bullets hit the man from out of nowhere. 

Kensi’s brow furrows, wondering if their back up has finally arrived when out jumps her rugged looking boyfriend covered in more dirt than she remembers. She’s so angry with him for losing contact that she doesn’t even have time to take a relieving breath that he’s alive.

The detective hops over the scrap of metal, coming up beside his partner. “Did you miss me?”

“Where have you been?”

“They killed my bike.”

They crouch down even further as the bullets continue to fly, their eyes lock, trying to come up with a plan. Any plan that will get them out of this alive. 

With not much time Deeks realizes the action he needs to take to ensure the best possible outcome for their safety. “Alright, you know what? I’ll draw their fire, you make a run for the SUV.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not really, no.”

Before she can respond he’s halfway across to the trailer spraying the men with bullets, once he’s found cover behind the old truck, Kensi makes her move as her partner covers her.

She quickly makes it to the SUV just as one of the guys loads the rocket launcher. As she’s messing with the wires, a whirling sound fills the air followed by a loud explosion. Looking up, her heart sinks once again, knowing that’s the exact same spot where her love was. “Marty.”

Giving up. That’s all she’s thinking about now as the perpetrators continue their assault. They’re outnumbered and Marty is more than likely dead. It’s hopeless. 

As she lays there in the seat of the vehicle a sudden twirling noise fills the air, to much of her relief she soon recognizes the sound. Help has arrived.

Staying down until backup has taken care of the men, Kensi takes a calming breath as a lone tear escapes her eye. God how is she going to go on with her life? How will she explain it to his mom? How will she explain it to their friends?

“Look, baby, I know you’re tired, but you can sleep when we get home.”

Her eyes go wide at the sound of the oh so familiar surfer drawl that belongs to her best friend. Before she can even process what’s going on in her head, her body is jumping out of the seat and lunging into his arms. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m okay.” He places a kiss to the top of her head. To say the explosion knocked him on his ass is a bit of an understatement. He was this close to being engulfed in flames, so close in fact that the back of his jacket is charred. So close to losing all he had with her and leaving her by herself. That thought alone, sends his mind into overdrive. 

Realizing that their coworkers could be walking up at any minute, they quickly pull apart, the aching to be close to one another radiating through their beings. Sharing a look, they center themselves and get back to the art of deception. Rushing over to the marines, the partners help load them into the chopper and take a much deserved sigh of relief. All in a days work.

••••

They finally get back to the mission later that evening to grab their things, gladly leaving their paper work for tomorrow. The pair say their goodbyes to the rest of the team before heading out to their respective vehicles, but the shaggy blonde stops her from getting into her car. “How about I pick you up from your place and we go for a ride?”

“I like the sound of that.”

Observing the area around them, the detective makes sure the coast is clear before taking hold of her hand, his thumb moving back and forth across her soft skin, bringing both of them a sliver of comfort. 

His eyes find hers, there’s so much he needs to say to her, but now is not the time. “I love you.”

She’s caught a bit off guard, not by his words, but the turmoil and sadness written in his eyes. “I love you too, Marty.”

••••

She looks across the vastness that is the ocean. The golden and pink hues that envelope the world around them is one of the most magical things that she’ll never get tired of. But the view is the last thing on her mind because something’s been off with her boyfriend for the better part of the day and then their interaction in the parking garage, has her wondering. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I-I need you to...”

“Need me to what?”

His chest rises and falls as he takes a calming breath. He’s not really sure of what he’s about to asks her...actually he is. Turning towards her, he’s met with her concerned loving mismatched eyes, and it gives him the courage to continue on. “Marry me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Great, Marty. That’s just great. You have an entire rolodex of words and those are the ones you choose.”

“Marty. Baby. Stop.”

Taking another deep breath, he tries to gather his thoughts. 

They sit in silence for a few seconds before he finally gains his courage once again to confess what’s been at the forefront of his mind for the past couple of hours. “Kens, I love you. In some way I’ve always known that I was in love with you. You’re my best friend, the person I want to share everything with. I don’t know how you did it but that 8 year old little girl I met 20 years ago made me feel the safest I’ve ever felt in my life and she’s been doing so ever since.” He reaches for her hand, needing contact now more than ever. “I know this is sudden, but when you think about it, its really not. We know everything about each other, we’re a part each other, past, present and future. I want you to know that you can count on me for the rest of our lives. Baby, I’ll always be here loving you and being your biggest supporter. I so very much want you to be the same for me, so...Kensi Marie Blye, will you marry me?”

There are tears in her eyes, this is sudden and happening oh so fast. Her heart is racing and her thoughts are all over the place. Sliding across the old leather seat, she brings her lips to his. “I love you so much, and I want all of those things that you do, but I think I need a little time to process everything. Is that okay?”

He should’ve saw this coming. I mean they’ve only been dating for a week and this topic has never come up. His best friend is one of the most level headed people he’s ever known, so he recognizes that she needs time to process this commitment and all that comes with it. He places a reassuring kiss to her lips, a barely there smile across his face. “Of course it is. I didn’t mean to spring this all on you. It’s just what with today and the explosion, I knew I didn’t want to waste another minute.”

“And we’re not.” She assures him, if there’s one thing she knows its that life is short and there’s no promise of tomorrow, but she still needs to gather herself and her thoughts. If they’re going to do this, she needs to have a level head not be wrapped up in the near death experience of today. “We’re together. I just want you to know that no matter what, I do want everything with you. I just need some time to process everything.”

“I understand.”

She places a kiss to his lips once more before her head finds his shoulder. “I love you.”

His head finds hers as they stare out across the cliff side sunset. The tension in his body slowly releases as her fingers intertwine with his. As long as she’s still here, that’s all that matters. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

[lafuerte01-blog]

It Is Only Impossible if you Don’t Try

IM Cozumel 2019 Race Recap

The hardest part of any story is trying to figure out where to begin. And in this case, do I start where my training began in April 2019 or do we start with race week? Or do you call this story, “A Tale of Two Kilgore’s” because (spoiler alert here) – one Kilgore trained her ass off and woke up at zero dark thirty multiple times throughout her 6 month training and had upwards of 6 hour long brick workouts while the other Kilgore just winged it and finished only an hour and a few minutes after the other.  Thinking back, who was the crazier person?  The one that invested time, lost sleep and spent a lot of money training, or the one that did next to nothing and still earned the coveted Ironman title? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start with race week. Met up with my coach a few days before heading out of town for the race.  The good news was there was nothing magical that I needed to know.  I already knew it.  I had practiced it weeks and months on end.  I just needed to execute it.  The downside was I was so amped up and just wanted to RACE.  My mind was ready.  My body was ready.  Unfortunately, it was Monday and I still have 6 days to wait.  So I rested.  Or not really “rested” but went from 1.5 hour swims to 45 minute swim workouts.  And reduced my wattage on bike workouts and didn’t run full sprints at the track.  So I had 3 workouts to keep me busy, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday leading up to my departure to Mexico on Thursday afternoon.

I was never nervous about the race.  I was more nervous about whether or not all my shit would get to Cozumel.  If my bikes would make it unscathed.  If I would forget anything.  Never doing a race of this magnitude, wasn’t sure what I’d need for special needs bike and special needs run.  I prepped a collective 10 hours just packing for the race. And still had to pack for the vacation that followed!  In thinking back, if I could just have someone pack for me, that would have reduced my stress levels 1,000%.  

(Above: all of my OCD packing in action)

I realized during this time there was also no way that 2 bikes and 4 pieces of luggage along with 4 humans would be able to be transported in our Camaro or Altima. People talk about “marathon brain” in terms of forgetfulness during the peak of workouts.  Imagine if I woke up the day we flew out and realized we didn’t have the right cars.  Thankful that my brain was always in overdrive that last week so that I was able to connect with two amazing friends, Kevin and Jonny, to transport us and our luggage in their Texas sized trucks to and from the airport.

(Above: Thank goodness for friends with trucks!)

I learned the night before that my tri-sister Julianne made a sign to send Joe and I off on our trip.  I appreciated her time in making something so badass!

The Flight Out (3 days before the race)

I don’t know how I stumbled upon it but in researching the prior host hotels/resorts and trying to figure out the math for the best flights into either Cozumel or Cancun, I found an American Airlines Vacation package that got us the best flights, direct from DFW to Cozumel with our host resort included. SCORE!  Other options included flying to Cancun and schlepping our things on a ferry to Cozumel. More logistics made for a more stressed out Bethany so obviously the direct option was so worthwhile.  While waiting for the plane, our gate was taken over by families and participants of the race.  Joe joked this would be the fittest flight out that day.  We met up with a couple who were being Sherpas for their friend. We also met up with a lady from California (Lilian) who was hoping to PR this race and get a sub 12:00 (she did! 11:50 was her finish time).  She was with her two young ones and we were happy all our kids were appeased by electronics as it had already been a long day.  

On the plane, Joe ended up switching seats with a family that was separated so the son could sit with his mom.  Let’s face it, he needed all the good karma he could get!  In doing so, he sat next to an IronFamily – Keith and his wife. Apparently Keith got his canisters confiscated at the airport and wasn’t sure where to buy them.  Being the super anal-retentive person I am, I researched and followed every blog and Facebook group related to IM Cozumel and told Joe off-hand during a conversation that if they run out of air canisters at IM Village, we can go to the local tri store called Cabrillas.  Joe relayed that info and Keith was super appreciative.  It’s like they became best buddies that day. And they were buddies the entire weekend to follow- as not only did Joe sit next to him by sheer luck, but Keith and his family happened to be at the same resort.  In the same villa.  Exactly two floors directly below us.  It’s truly a small world.  After arriving in Mexico, we were in a bit of a panic as I found one bike but not the other.  We literally were the last family out of customs because of this one bike bag being separated from the pack.  And it’s not like customs is fast in any way and on top of that we’re on island time so we waited patiently.  

(This is what Cozumel airport looks like when you’re the last one in customs)

On top of it we randomly had to have our bags gone through because that’s what must happen when you’re tired.  So when we exited to get to our shuttle that had been waiting now for an hour and ten minutes, we got accosted by a tour group that posed as a front for our van service.  After realizing they were selling us a tour package, I kindly said no and headed out to our van, curious if it would even be there.  It was.  And after hauling everything into the back we loaded in the van and took in the 25 minute drive through downtown to the resort.  The downtown area was decked out for the race with welcome signs. The island was crazy busy with taxis and scooters everywhere.  I was thankful when we finally arrived at the resort which was away from the hustle and bustle for some authentic, local food and rest.  The family got to experience my favorite cochinta pibil and salbutes yucatecos for dinner.  We had seconds of each.  Dolores was the best waitress by far the entire time at the resort.  We filled our bellies and went to bed.

Friday morning, two days before the race

After waking up, Joe and I assembled our bikes.  It was then that I realized I left a second flat kit back at the house.  If not already familiar, the Kilgore’s have notoriously bad luck at races with flats and spokes but I figured the extra flats I packed would just have to go into my special needs bag and hope I didn’t need a second or third tube before picking up the special needs bag at mile 60 on the route.  

We went to IM village that afternoon to pick up our race packets, find our name on the IM wall, take obligatory photos with the Ironman sign, and look about the IM store to buy all the things.  But since this was an IM branded race co-sponsored with Adeportes, the items weren’t as plentiful as many IM 70.3 races.  And most of it was already picked over.  But maybe that was a good thing because we got out cheaper than if all the things were there.  We obtained our IM wristband, our timing chip, our race bags, all inside a nice IM Cozumel branded backpack along with a nice race belt.  Because Joe is notoriously known for meeting up with random people he doesn’t know, we ran into my FTC teammate Julie Adams and her IronFamily and spoke with them for a while.  He had worn his FTC shirt to go to IM Village in hopes to run into someone; it worked.  

(Above: Awesome name placement)

While at IM village, my brother Brian arrived so the kids and I walked to meet him.  After a brief hello it was about that time that Joe and I had to go to the mandatory athlete briefing.  As we waited in the hot sun, we passed it off as “acclimating to the heat” and saw our IronFamily man Keith there.  Because it was so hot and Brian just landed, we had him take the kids so they didn’t have to be bored out of their minds.  After waiting a half hour or so after the scheduled start for briefing (again, island time) we got into the cool AC building, sat up front, and had a truly enjoyable time meeting our two emcees and announcers for the race. They made a lot of jokes which made for a lighter mood and helped us all feel special for what we were about to embark upon.

SATURDAY (the day before the race!)

I was thankful I spent the 10 hours packing my essentials in advance and took meticulous notes of the contents within (see picture below) because when we picked up our race packets, I essentially just had to place my Ziplock bags into their respective bike, run and special needs bags.   Joe and I got up early to ride our bikes to and from the official swim practice site.   Our bikes were tuned up before the race by Velofix but of course the derailleur was jostled during the flight so my bike had difficulty getting into my middle gears of my big chain.  So I knew after our swim practice I’d need to get in touch with bike tech at the resort. I was excited for the swim and wanted to be able to feel the current that would carry us toward the finish. Unfortunately, my new goggles that I had only swam in 5 times decided to leak during my practice swim.  And there wasn’t a kayak or lily pad for me to rest on to fix them.  These are the moments you need to know how to handle during the choppy start of a swim start anyway.  I pulled off to the side, flutter kicked vertically and tried to adjust my goggles. Still no dice.  After doing a lap with my left goggle trickling in sea water, I decided to get out and reset.  I did a second quick circle swim and things seemed to be ok.  I never got to catch the current and was a bit unnerved that my swim practice wasn’t as great as I expected.  But I got the experience of dealing with unfortunate circumstances and kept my cool.  And it’s an understated important skill not to over exert yourself during a stressful start of a swim before a long race day.

After getting back to the resort, I was thankful to have an onsite mechanic help with my bike and I was relieved to not have to worry about it as again, team Kilgore usually has issues on race day with their bikes.  We still had to transport our bikes and based on our bib number, we were the final group of the day (3:30-5p).  So in the meantime we headed into town to shop at some local stores and shop for souvenirs.  When we got back to the resort, the family headed to the beach while Joe and I lugged our bikes to drop off at bike check-in.   We were the only ones on the bus that picked us up at the resort.  We had time to rack the bikes, get a lay of the swim out portion of the race, our changing tents, and familiarize ourselves with our rack location and bike out.  Joe and I both lucked out that our bikes were racked in the same group; mine was at the front of the rack coming out of the changing tent – Joe’s was at the very end of the rack.  We had a long way to bike out but it didn’t matter – we would just walk our bikes and calm our heart rates to prepare for the long ride ahead of us tomorrow.  

There was a bit of an issue getting the free bus ride back from mandatory bike check in. We waited 30 minutes before even being told there were no more shuttles running to the resorts.   Apparently the bus we rode in on was the last one running but none of the other 10 people waiting with us was told that information.  We met a guy from Cincinnati who graduated from Indian Hill High School- he was there with his wife and they were also doing their first IM race. Also saw Lilian there whom we met at DFW from California doing her 3rd IM.  So after a few of us argued a bit with the IM volunteers about the free shuttle service fiasco, the group won out and we were able to get a bus to take us back to the resort.  It was a minor blip I thought but to be stranded several miles away with no money to go back was a bit unnerving.  Definitely not something I wanted a day before the race.

When we finally returned, we headed out to the beach so I could test out my backup pair of goggles in the ocean.  After doing a few laps in front of the resort and snorkeling with the family, we got showered and met up with my friend Gloria for dinner.  

Side note: you never know what random acquaintance you have from your past may mean to you many years later.  In 1998 I went on a study abroad trip to Merida, Mexico and met up with Gloria Martinez. She was a dance instructor and as part of my cultural studies for 3 months, I learned traditional dances (baile folklorico) and became close friends with her.  We stayed in contact, sent each other many letters and mixed tapes, and here we were face to face again after 21 years.  It was just amazing.  And she would be a MAJOR help and inspiration halfway through the run. I needed her more than I knew. But I’m getting ahead of myself again…..

During dinner Gloria met my family and I got to practice my Spanish while she practiced her English. She gave me a present, a local liquor Xtabentun from the Mayans.  I had remembered having this while in Mexico before and it has a unique taste – liquorish and honey.  In looking at the bottle we have now at home, apparently Joe really likes it – it’s almost gone!  I had my traditional meal before any race, pizza, but wasn’t super hungry.  I realized around 9p I needed to get ready to bed and try to sleep.  It’s common not to sleep too well before a race.  I think I got a solid 5 hours in.  

Race morning

I woke up at 4:20a, 5 minutes before my alarm.  I was ready. Graduation day was here! We asked the front desk the night before when the shuttles would start running; he said 5:30a.  I thought that was late knowing our first transition (T1) opened at 5:15a. Not only that, we had to get to T1 to drop off our special needs bags, set up our shoes and attach our helmets to the bike and check tires for air. And after that had to catch a bus 2.4 miles upward to the swim start.   But again, I trusted the information given.  So after waking and getting dressed and having breakfast, we get to the bus line early only to find out that there’s a big group there already and the race organizers reduced the busses at our resort from 3 to 2.  And the last bus that was coming was the one headed our way – and we were all hoping we’d get on.  Some people were angry and hailed cabs. Others just waited (like us) and hoped to get on.  It was a full bus but we were able to get on and upon arrival we frantically tossed our special needs bags to volunteers, got our bikes set up with nutrition and water bottles situated.  We didn’t top off our tires; we didn’t have time.  We just hoped and prayed they’d be ok.  We walked hurriedly back to the entrance and waited in a ginormous line to catch the busses to take us to swim start.  Met up with Julie from FTC somehow in all the chaos. Again, another issue as we got toward the front, the busses behind us were opening their doors to people waiting behind us so that by the time the busses rolled up, they were full.  Participants were angry and the race volunteers were quick to act.  We squeezed into a bus already full and took a seat at the very back.  I just took deep breaths.  Again, logistics are not fun for me and is super stressful when things get out of whack. Minor inconveniences really but seriously nerve-racking before a long day’s event. I ate another sandwich while taking the bus to the swim start.  Things were going to be ok.  It was then that I realized I had left my UCan back at the hotel.  So I was a few hundred calories under what I had hoped but I also packed a backup sandwich and gel in T1.  And I had been drinking extra water with electrolytes that morning.  I told myself it was going to be ok.

Swim start

Once through the porta pottie line (after realizing they had one for males and females!), Julie and I got on our swim skins, put on Glide and eco-friendly sunscreen (to protect the coral) and tossed our final bag of the day, our morning clothes bag, to the volunteers and headed to our swim start corral.  This being a self-seeded start, Joe and I had strategically decided to put ourselves in the 1:20-1:30 grouping. Julie went ahead as she’s a faster swimmer; we wished her luck! Next time I saw her was on the run – more on that later.

I knew I could swim the 2.4 mile distance in one hour and 30 minutes but also knew the current would be helpful.  We heard the gun go off for the pros and started snaking around our corral toward the front of the pier.  There were drones flying overhead.  We waved. We caught up with the guy from Cincinnati and his wife.  We congratulated them.  Loud music pumping and blaring songs like, “We Will Rock You” by Queen and “Eye of the Tiger.” The pier started to become visible.  I saw people tossing small bean bag sized pouches filled with water.  People were drinking water and putting water on their heads to cool down.  It was 7:40a ish and already warm.  Temps were expected to be a real feel of 90 degrees with little cloud cover.

We were a huddled group of people and the sun was blazing.  I caught sight of the ocean.  It was wavy. Choppy.  NOT like anything we had seen the previous days while on the island. This was going to be fun.  I kept calm.  We were in line with a lady who knew this was our first and saw our watches and told us they only last 14ish hours.  Lovely.  Again, nothing I can do.  I kept fidgeting with my goggles- putting them on and off.  Joe told me to keep them off because they would fog up otherwise. And that’s when I realized I forgot to wipe my goggles with the anti-fog cloth.  Before I knew it, our group was “walking the plank” to the end of the dock.  I placed my goggles on and just like that, I was in the water.  I hit the bottom upon jumping in, not realizing it was shallow, so I bounced up and after 8 seconds, realized I had already pressed start on my watch.  “It’s go time,” I thought.

The swim with all the people and all the waves could have been worse.  I was thankful the swim out to the first of two turns was short.  I saw a ton of marine life.  There was a sign underwater – I couldn’t stop to read it but later learned it said “If you can think it, you can achieve it.”  There were tons of scuba divers watching from the ocean floor. I would have loved to see what that swim looked like from above.  I never got kicked or punched like others on the swim.  I had people swim up on me but they swam around.  I did the same when I came up on others.  I kept with a pack.  I rarely sighted- when I did, there was a huge wave in my face.  I think I only took in one gulp of sea water. At one point I started smiling because I thought my husband was next to me.  It took me a while before I noticed it wasn’t him.   I swam with a pack of people and kept my pace consistent.  I noticed a buoy on my right and thought they were to be on the left so I cut across and in doing so, I caught a nice current.  But after a while I lost people. I saw a kayak.  I was off on my own and in looking the rest of the group was on the left.  So I swam fast to get back with the group.  I couldn’t see ahead with the waves but didn’t want to be so far out on the right, despite the awesome current, to not know where I was.  I kept up with the pack and found some people to draft off of.  I caught sight of a yellow buoy.  It didn’t make sense as most of them were orange other than to distinguish that being the half-way point maybe? I never checked my time or distance on the watch while swimming – I just kept swimming.  My goggles were pretty fogged up by this point.  I got off track again toward the back half of the swim and instead of making a tight turn at the red and final buoy, I instead made a long wide turn to the finish. It’s ok.  I was finishing up and was able to climb the steps up and stop the watch.  HOLY SHIT! I just had a PR swim: 1:23:51.

I took my coach’s advice coming out of the swim, no running – just walk to the changing tent to calm the heart rate down.  I stood for about 15 seconds under a shower to rinse off before going into the women’s changing tent.  My goal was to be in and out of the transition tent in 10 minutes.  I had played and replayed in my head the things to do while in T1.  I ended up doing a full change out from my tri suit and swim skin to bra, bike shorts and a bike top. I had a shower pill towel and a sturdy hand towel to help wipe away any remaining salt.  Salt = chafe and I took a squirt bottle (tip courtesy of Jessica Marchi) full of water and sprayed between cracks and bits.  Once done, I lightly toweled off an put on my bike shorts with Hoo Ha Ride Glide.  I got volunteers to put sunscreen on my body.  Slipped on my HR monitor.  Ate my backup sandwich and drank my water. I just burned about 600 calories on the swim and needed to top off before setting off to ride.  I put on my socks and headed out to my bike.  Got my helmet, clipped it on, got my shoes on and walked the long walk to bike out.  I checked Joe’s bike rack; his bike was still there.  I got nervous.  He’s a better swimmer; assumed he got caught up in the changing tent.  I figured he’d be right behind me in no time on the bike.  Total transition time: 17:02

At the mount line, I was keeping heart rate calm and take it easy.  Even a veteran said everyone goes out fast on the first loop. I had written in permanent market on my leg my metrics for the race: 130-140 power, 78-82 cadence, 135 heart rate. I rode out and set off for a comfortable ride.

The Bike

What I was told to do by my coach was to stop every 20 miles and to pee at mile 40 and 80.  There were approximately 5 rest stops around the island for the 38ish mile loop.  For some strange reason, on my first loop, I decided to hit every single stop and pee at mile 20.  I don’t know why I did this but I realized my error after the first lap when I saw Joe. It didn’t make sense that I was coming up on him around mile 46 when his bike was on the rack when I biked out.  It took a nanosecond for me to realize my error. In hindsight, that extra 2 minutes per stop was ok; I wanted to take it easy.  My HR was averaging 154 and wasn’t budging despite the easy effort.  I attributed it to the heat. I also noticed on the first loop my power didn’t seem to be accurate.  The day before I noticed this as well and texted the coach; asked if that happened what metric to follow – cadence or HR.  Because the course is flat, he suggested both.  I kept true to my cadence and only pushed it when I had to make a legal pass or had to back off when someone overtook me.  Second loop was faster, I know I pushed it but I felt ok.  I ended up grabbing water every 20 miles to top off my bottles and spray myself down (my cooling sleeves, my core, my head).  I saw my brother and kids on the second loop of the bike course; got a shout out from someone there who saw my Hotter than Hell jersey and said, “GO TEXAS!”  The back half of the island was beautiful.  The extra elevation gain was there along with the wind.  Thankful I didn’t have to deal with a lot of wind that day and I knew how to climb hills now so I didn’t let the back half deter me. I got to my special needs bag around mile 60 and reset my fuel. Checked my tires, they were ok so I rode on without the extra canisters or tubes placed within.

The final lap is soul sucking.  You know what to expect which is a blessing and a curse.  The ride through the city was uplifting; you just have to mentally will yourself to the next aide station and hope for some crazy fans out there to support you.  Saw my brother and kids again; got the boost I needed but then had the east side of the island with the hill and unrelenting sun.  I wanted to take in the scenery, the ocean was beautiful and the blue sea mixed with the blue sky only interrupted by the white ocean spray that crested and crashed into the rocky coast.  I noticed the pack was thinning; there was a collective miserable feeling around everyone.  I passed someone and he said, “you’re looking strong.” I muttered something back – I don’t know if it was comprehensible.  I knew I was coming up on mile 90 and after mile 100 every mile after that would be a distance PR.  It was also about this time that I noticed I was getting tired of eating my gels.  No worries I told myself- I had packed a glorious PB&J sandwich in my T2 bag.  I’d have real food soon. And there’d be more on the run course.  I stopped at a final aide station around mile 100 to get more ice and water and sprayed myself down.  The first table there had ran out of water bottles so I had to get off the bike and wait for them to get more water to pour into my bottles.  The bike course was pretty sparse by then and things picked over. By the time I hit the bike in, I honestly don’t remember anything.  I know I was able to get off the bike OK (surprising in and of itself), grab a bottle off my bike and my coach’s bike computer before handing over my bike to a volunteer. Total bike time: 6:49:04.

In the T2 changing tent, I looked around.  It looked desolate.  I checked the time – I seemed to be doing ok.  I asked a volunteer what the local time was.  It was early evening – about 4p.  I had plenty of time.  Did another full change out from bike clothes to run clothes.  Chuckled to myself that I was feeling like Beyonce with all of her change of clothes. I was salt crusted and legs were dirty.  Took 2 shower pills to clean off.  I wanted to clean off to feel better.  I wiped my face.  I put on my hat, my running shoes, my running belt and grabbed my sandwich and headed out to start the final 26.2 miles of this race.  Total time in T2: 19:34.

The Run

I got up and my feet HURT. My arches were super sore.  I walked out of the tent and tried to calm my HR down.  I felt dizzy. I grabbed water from a volunteer but didn’t feel any better.  My watch chimed 30 seconds into the run.  What the hell? I had thought I programmed it for a 90 second run and 30 second walk. NOPE. Forgot the last run I had was programmed from my 30 second sprint track workout and 3 minute walk.  I attempted to change the intervals but my watch said I couldn’t change while an event was in progress. GRRR.  I know what I had to do – this happened at my Houston Marathon where I didn’t have my watch intervals set correctly and had to do it manually – watching the time. It was going to be a long fucking run. While I had PRd my run in Houston that day, this was not going to happen today.  It would however keep my mind “busy” and distracted from the feeling I was having while running.  Funny because all day I was looking forward to the run and now I was trying to figure out how I was going to continue.  Anyone that knows me knows that math isn’t my sweet spot. So my 90:30 run walk intervals weren’t always accurate.  I gave myself grace. Didn’t matter.  Go by feel. Get some food in you.  I tried but my stomach started to heave.  I made it 2 miles by this point and needed food ASAP. I recalled that if I couldn’t eat, to at least chew food and spit it out.  Even taking food into my mouth made me gag.  And my water bottle filled with electrolytes were equally painful to digest. I got dizzy again and tripped and almost fell but by the grace of God caught myself from falling flat on my face. Negative thoughts started creeping in. It was only 2 miles into a 26.2 mile run and I couldn’t eat or drink and was dizzy.  I started looking for a medical tent.  I never saw one.  Honestly – the one time I did see a medic was the last 2-3 miles of my run and by that point, I wasn’t stopping!  In looking around, I saw FTC teammate Julie on her run.  She was running fast; I was walking.  I said hi and she gave me a look that said, “this is miserable.”  She was ahead of me and looked strong. Little did I know she crashed on the bike and was bleeding from her knee. She’s a total badass.  Was that her first loop? Second? Third? Everyone looked fresh and running fast.  I just kept looking at my watch, doing fuzzy math, putting one foot in front of the other.

Along the way, someone asked me if this was a 3 looped course.  I said yes. Knowing that, I was near the turnaround by then and felt better for a bit.  Around mile 6 or so, a supporter saw me and I guess I looked like death warmed over. He approached me as I walked and said, “Drink the flat Pepsi.  Trust me runner. Drink it.  And chase it with a lot of water.  It will do miracles for you!  I know this to be true!”  I looked at him and said I can’t keep anything down.  I was nervous if I drank it I would get sick.  I didn’t want to get sick and get stuck in a medical tent. I just wanted to be done.  But I ran off, got to the next table and took the Dixie cup of flat Pepsi and a small water pouch to chase it.  It worked. I felt better.  The sugar helped.  I tried to eat- still nothing.  Small bits of food here and there that I chewed and spat out.  After the first loop, I felt a bit better.  

I saw Gloria on the run while downtown.  The crowd was festive.  There were still plenty of people on the run.  I would be ok.  After the cheers of the crowd and the noise subsided, I started working on a game plan. That’s when my Garmin gave me a low battery warning.  Shit. Shit shit shit. OK.  New plan – focus on food.  I saw a table with oranges and bananas and pretzels.  I had an orange and it was glorious.  Yes. FOOD! Then I got to the banana. Nope. Couldn’t stomach it.  I nibbled, chewed and spat a half a banana out.  More flat Pepsi and water.  Would grab the pretzels on the way back.  Realized I had to focus on my run/walk intervals if my watch died before I finished the race.  I counted my steps for the run.  336 steps for 90 seconds of running; 26 steps for 30 seconds of rest.  I did this several times before I realized running for 90 seconds was too much.  My body was too weak.  It was getting late and the sun setting. I approached the turn around and looked feverishly for the special needs tent for my bag at mile 13.  I had more food in there but didn’t take it. I grabbed my head lamp but in hindsight I didn’t need it.  I grabbed my light jacket thinking I would get cold as the night settled in, especially with the wind near the sea wall going back into town.  I wrapped the jacket around me and kept running.  Then my watch died around mile 14.  Not that I was disappointed that I didn’t save my watch during the bike, but that I was running blind.  No way to tell if my pace was going super slow or not.  

I saw Joe twice on the run; both times it was when I was going the opposite direction back into town to complete my loops.  He yelled to me, “You’ll finish – you have plenty of time. You’ll get yours.” I wanted to yell back- maybe I did? I can’t recall.  I was in a dark place.  You’d think going into town you’d pick up the excitement.  Mine was the reverse.  I hit my lowest point around miles 17-19.  It was at this time that Gloria saw me coming into town and ran with me. She told me I was doing good. That she was proud of me.  That I have 2.5 hours to finish one more lap. She was willing to get me anything I needed, do anything for me. I knew it was against IM rules to have someone run and walk beside you but I could not tell her no.  Selfishly I needed her.  She was my angel and my saving grace those miles.  As we approached downtown, I told Gloria that she would not be allowed to run with me or be next to me.  Shortly thereafter an IM official came up and told Gloria she needed to let me be.  Gloria asked why and she was told the rule and after giving a very mad face to the volunteer, Gloria wished me well.  

Being as tired and as dizzy as I was, I just wanted to quit.  I felt horrible.  I was right in town so if I wanted to quit, I could just walk up to my family and say, “I tried.”  At one point I humored myself that I couldn’t quit because I had already bought things that said I was an Ironman at IM Village a few days before.  That got me ahead mentally for a half mile or so. But I also just needed to be done. The run was more mental than anything. I had to give myself something to look forward to.  Mile 20. That was the new goal.  I could get to mile 20 and feel fine, I told myself. More oranges and bananas.  I forced a banana down around that time, thinking I could vomit 6 miles and still finish. Still hard to drink my electrolytes so water, water, more water and flat Pepsi when I could stomach it. Spoke briefly to a guy who asked what lap I was on. I said my third.  He was on his as well.  I told him I was just looking for the damned turn around.  He said he was as well.  He looked strong and I told him so and wished him well.  

There was a group of us that kinda stayed together.  We were running and walking around the same pace.  We didn’t talk to each other but it was good to know I wasn’t alone out there hurting.  I could tell my pace slowed.  I didn’t have a damn watch to tell but I knew I couldn’t keep up my pace from before so I ran from cone to cone.  Walked the next set of cones.  Repeat. When the turnaround came, I knew if I got to a 5k I’d be fine.  And I sort of was ok until mile 24.  

Seriously those last two miles were insanely hard.  I strained to hear the roar of the crowd downtown which sounded a lot quieter. Even the loud band that played continuously for hours seemed to have relocated and moved closer to the finish. I needed something to get me by. I saw kind people on the street giving encouragement, “You’re so close!” “Don’t walk, run!” “You’re going to be an Ironman!” “Go, go, go!” That’s when I looked over and saw a medic on her phone. She wasn’t with anyone – just keeping herself busy.  Where the F was she all day? Too late now to stop.  Mile 25.  Was I now going uphill? How long was this corridor?  The band sounded like it was closer now and I could hear a guy on a loudspeaker now.  “…..(inaudible name) ... You Are An IRONMAN!”

My thought process went something like this that last 1.2 miles: drink water. Dump all the food you have stuffed in your tri top bra. Fix your hair.  Make it look like you didn’t just suffer for god knows however long you’ve been out here. And run like hell when you near the finish chute. I walked a good portion of that last mile just willing my brain to adjust to the new game plan.  I inadvertently dropped my water, my lifeline. Damnit! I didn’t want to run with trash in my hand so I jumped a curb and threw it into a trash can and hopped down back onto the course.  Ok.  Jacket is around my waist and I don’t want it.  I’m hot. I can’t toss it.  Damnit – just hold it.  I see a lady on my right who says, “You’ve got this! It’s just around the corner!” and that’s when I started to run.  I mean, run like I meant it.  I saw the red carpet and the lights.  It was a party scene and I was ready to …… sit the fuck down.  But first, that finish line.  That glorious finish line.  I looked up – did that time say 15 hours and something? I thought I was closer to 16 by my walking pace those last few miles.  That gave me a bit of a pep in my step.  I put my hand over my mouth – I started to tear up and then I heard, “That’s my sister!” and saw my brother Brian, Gloria, Kaia and my son Kyler with his hand stretched out to high five me.  It was a brief second but that moment of seeing their faces and getting that final power boost from my son got me across that finish line.  

I heard before I even crossed the finish, “Bethany Kilgore from McKinney, Texas – You are an Ironman!” and then I saw the ramp.  A ramp! I had to go up and down that thing and not fall flat on my ass.  I was depleted of food, water, electrolytes, and was high on adrenaline so by the time I crossed I walked gingerly across the threshold where some kind man grabbed my arm and guided me through the finisher chute.  Total run time: 6:13:01.  Total time at finish: 15:02:31.

Through the chute, my kind guide asked me, “Do you want water? Gatorade?” I said no.  He said, “I bet you’ll never want another Gatorade for a few months.” I smiled.  Then he told me I was going to receive my medal.  Medal placed around my head; a few congrats.  Ok.  More walking. Then he said someone had to get my timing chip.  Great. Next he asked if I wanted food. NOOOOO.  No food.  Ok, so he walked me to get my finisher shirt.  I stood in a daze as someone handed me my finisher shirt.  I looked around and noticed the line to get my finisher photo. Ugh.  I didn’t have the energy to wait.  Everyone looked so full of life.  I wanted to sit.  A nice lady helped me with my things, she fixed my visor which I always wear so low and held all of my sweaty things as I gave a few pained smiles.  I saw the rendezvous spot to meet my family.  I heard my name and got some hugs.  I was super thankful to be done but fell like crap.  I thought fresh clothes and sitting would make me feel better. After getting my clothes and changing (which took eternity with tons of foot cramps), I stood up and met my family on a bench.  I couldn’t talk without fear of getting sick.  I was still dizzy so I wanted to lay down.  As soon as I tried to lay down I started dry heaving. Nothing would come but saliva. I knew I was in a bad way so my friend Gloria sought a medic while my brother and kids waited for Joe to finish.  I got into a wheel chair and was admitted.  It looked like a war zone.  People messed up far worse than me.  People with EKGs on their chest.  Others getting massages from their cramped legs.  The guy next to me screaming from his leg cramp getting worked out.  I had a nurse come around asking if I was allergic to anything – “just penicillin” I said.  She thought it was odd that the three people in bed next to each other were all allergic to penicillin.  A nice doctor came over and said I was going to get an IV.  A nurse came over and stuck my left arm. Nothing.  Stuck my right arm and moved the needle around.  Nothing.  Had to call over someone else to get to my vein and finally got it in on top of my right hand.  I was hot and didn’t want a blanket.  I was in my sports bra and shorts that I had changed into along with my Oofos.  It took a while to get the fluids in even halfway through and by then I started to get cold.  I got an awesome space blanket and neck massage.  I strained to hear my husband’s name called but it was busy and loud in the tent.  I asked if the medic tent was busy now and the nurse said no, but that it was busy earlier – not enough beds to triage people to get in and get assistance. I got word that Joe crossed and was ok.  I was upset that I couldn’t see him cross the finish line but was thankful I felt better at that point.  I lulled off to sleep.

The kind doctor that attended to me let me know the medical tent was closing.  My fluids weren’t all the way done but I was feeling better.  I was thankful to see my family and Gloria waiting outside of the tent.  I felt a LOT better.  I was eager to shower and go home and sleep.  I said my thanks and goodbyes to Gloria and we got a cab.  Back at the resort, I told my brother to see if he could get something salty like fries and chips from the late night snack bar.  He came back with fries and nachos.  I couldn’t eat much but what I did tasted like food for the gods.  Brian let Joe and I go to rest; I miraculously had enough energy to take a shower and rinse out all of our bike bottles before laying my head on the pillow. I looked over at the time.  3:25a. Exactly 23 hours of activity that day.  

Was it worth it? Yes. It tested everything I had.  I learned that Joe crossed about an hour after me with little to no training.  And he didn’t need a medical tent.  But he ran his race; I ran mine.  We did what we each had to do and both became Ironmen that day.  It’s been 5 days; I’m hard pressed to want to do this again whereas Joe is eager to go back next year.  I’ll happily be his Sherpa!

What I’ve learned throughout this experience is that while this is a challenge of three sports for one person to complete, it’s a necessity to have a village of people that help you get to that finish line.  

For everyone that has helped me with any of my training swim, bikes or runs

For the friends that have put up with my insane training schedule and understood that my absence from any social life was temporary (and forgave me when I unintentionally fell asleep at social gatherings when I did go out)

For my daughter who gave me grace when I missed more than half of her soccer games this fall and passed out around 7:30p on the couch during cuddle time

For my son who was patient in getting the adequate drive time in to help him earn his drivers license

Collectively for my kids who allowed their parents to do a race smack dab in the middle of our family vacation

For my coaches who put up with my incessant questions

For my brother’s family for their understanding while they were in the midst of moving into a new home and for my nephew for allowing me to take his dad away on his birthday.  I needed my brother’s help post-race and to have fun with the kids while their parents were out doing a silly race

For my dear friend of 20 years Gloria who trekked across the Yucatan Peninsula and took a ferry to Cozumel to cheer me on for 15+ hours

And for my husband who made all the dinners, made all of the post-long weekend workout meals, and kept my insanity in check….

I thank you all. 

(Above: my new favorite Christmas ornament next to some of my favorite ornaments: my kids, an old Santa - my grandfather’s who died of cancer, my best friend Lisa and I, and a Mexican sombrero ornament from 1997)

Above: The Kilgore’s enjoying a relaxing day visiting San Gervasio ruins on Cozumel island.... post-race

[baby-clearwater]

Secret Relationship II

@chickenbxby

"Maybe you could come to the beach with me and my friends tomorrow, if you aren't busy Seth." As soon as the words dropped from his imprint's mouth, Seth accepted. No, before the object of his affection even finished speaking he accepted.

"La Push?" A stupid grin formed over his face at the thought of finally being able to go out with his imprint in broad daylight. It felt like a massive step for the two.

"Yeah, you live nearby it right? ... You said you live over by Forks....?"

After climbing in through the window, Seth and his imprint shared some small snacks and a pizza. Well, Seth ate most of everything and his imprint just happily fed him. They hardly had time to spend together. Seth was always out on wolf business, and ... they usually had to meet late at night anyway, but his imprint could feel the bond, and Seth knew that they knew this wasn't some ordinary crush.

Seth hate to admit it, but for the past month, he had been running in his wolf form back and forth between Forks and Port Angeles to see his imprint. Ever since the first time he had laid eyes on them after being dragged out on a shopping trip with Emily, Seth had been hooked.

The rest of the their night went on smoothly with the pair getting toasty cuddling up. Seth managed to fall asleep spooning his imprint while they watched some cute YouTube videos on their phone.

After waking up, heading back home and washing up, Seth realized he had never so much as met anyone else in his imprint's life. No friends, and he certainly had never met their parents. The entire situation nagged at him, but imprinting wasn't simple. If his imprint never told anyone about him, and he had to climb in their window for the rest of his life, he really wouldn't care. Hell, he'd do anything for his imprint.... and so far the only thing that bothered him was how the pack made assumptions. Even after learning about the new development, the pack were protective of their baby member.

Paul's voice floated through his head as he checked his appearance in the mirror. 'I bet they already have a boyfriend.' Next he heard his sister's voice as he got dressed for a day at the beach, 'they're hiding something from you or ashamed of you.'

Seth let out a small grumble as he pulled an old hoodie over his head as a cover up. He hated thinking about things because the whole pack would gang up on him. With a huff, Seth set out for the beach on foot, it really wasn't far after all.

He arrived to see a giggling group of friends surrounding his imprint, and something dawned over Seth's nervous mind.

Since they always met at night, Seth had never noticed, but his imprint drove a Rolls-Royce. He remembered hearing them say their parents bought them a car for a birthday present, but Seth had never thought much about it until now.

As Seth got closer the group noticed him, and the wolf's eyes darted to a large brown leather handbag in one of the their hands. He swore he had seen the design before. LV? Seth shrugged wondering quietly why any sensible person would bring a leather handbag to the beach.

His chocolate eyes softened considerably seeing his imprint once again. "Hi."

The imprint smiled back with just as dreamy a look in their eyes. "Hi, Seth."

A friend chimed in loudly cutting the cute moment short. "Oh my God! You booked a tour for us! Just for this visit?! You're the best, for real!" - "Are we going to go whale watching??" - "Your mom and dad are paying right? My dad cancelled my card last week." - "I wish my mom and dad had a house in Washington, everything is sooooo pretty here.... And I'm so jealous-"

Seth stopped listening. His face twisted a bit as it dawned on him that his imprint's friends thought he was going to show them around. A tour guide? A part of him felt deeply insulted.

He looked like a tour guide? Really? ... His eyebrows rose in disbelief hearing the bit about the card, and suddenly everything made sense to Seth.

His imprint was loaded. They were the kind of filthy rich that was unavailable to even think about for some average Joe like Seth.

Seth always wondered why no one else ever seemed to be in the house when he visited, and he would soon learn that his imprint was just spending the summer at their parents' vacation home in Port Angeles. They were from New Mexico. During the day they had private tutoring, then tennis training, so the only time available for Seth was night. The security system on the house alerted their father when the door was opened after curfew, and really the only way to go out or in was through the window. It was ridiculous, and something a rich helicopter parent would do.

"U-uh, no, this is Seth. I asked him to come." The imprint stuttered and blushed, but Seth couldn't find any trace of shame in their face. "He's kind of... well, we're sort of seeing each other."

Seth felt a massive weight lift off his chest.

[notanotherbookreview]

A wintery January for John and Gwyn in postwar 1944 NYC. We can certainly relate in today's blizzard. But here's what happened when they made their escape from New York...

Chapter 10 – HAM SANDWICHES

January came with its thick snows that turned into slush. People put on their winter clothes in preparation for the rushing madness of day-to-day life in New York City. John had no thoughts of working because he was still exhausted from his war experience. We usually spent the evenings at home; occasionally we went to the theater, and John saw many people he had not seen for a long time. He was moody, mean to many; there wasn’t that Steinbeck sense of humor anymore. The war had changed him.

Our New Year’s celebration was considerably quieter that year of 1944. We went to the 21 Club, a great hangout for the who’s who of New York and show business people, then did a bar crawl and went home. Early in the new year, John suddenly said to me, ‘I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t stand New York. I can’t stand still. Let’s go to Mexico.’

If that’s what he wanted to do, then that was what I wanted. ‘What will we do about Willie?’ I asked. ‘Call your mother to come here and take care of him. Your stepfather’s in the army, and she loves New York. I’ll pay for it. We’ll only be gone two or three months.’

Mother came, and she brought her dog. New York was still blacked out because of the war, and Mother felt she needed that extra protection. Willie was the kind of darling dog who would have shown any prowler exactly where to find the silver; he would have been most courteous and, in his direct way, would probably have said ‘Ha! At last, I have a new friend.’ Willie had a habit of always barking at the wrong things.

We were packing for Mexico, Mother had been with us a week, and one morning she said, ‘Gwyn, you’re going to have a baby, aren’t you?’ ‘Not that I know of,’ I said, surprised. ‘Oh yes, you are. I know, because John has been throwing up every morning.’ ‘Don’t be ridiculous, that’s because of his medicine.’ ‘You’re going to have a baby!’

She was right. I was pregnant, but the trip was still on. Air travel was out; even with priority you could get bumped off from New York to Newark. We decided to take the train to New Orleans then to Corpus Christi and on to Brownsville, Texas. From there, we were assured we would have no trouble getting a flight into Mexico.

Before we went, John and our friends, Miguel and Rosa Covarrubias, led me on about Mexico during one of their high teas. I had never been to the heart of Mexico, and so did not know what to expect. John, Rosa, and Miguel kidded me with such remarks as, ‘Wait until you’ve had the octopus cooked in its own ink,’ or, ‘You’ll love the gusanos, fried worms…’ They only did that because I was pregnant and had a squeamish stomach. Several friends, including Rosa and Miguel, saw us off at the station. There was more drinking. John was loaded – on B12 and B1 pills and male hormones, all on doctor’s orders.

Food was scarce on the train, so we took a wicker basket filled with food and drink. Those wartime days, you did not know if you would eat on the train, because troops had priority and fed first. Besides, John was well fortified with some of the London gin that Charlie Lytle had given him in England. He had all the gin to himself. I couldn’t drink in my condition, of course. In fact, I could hardly say I enjoyed the so-called cocktail hour in our stuffy stateroom, what with the ham and cheese sandwiches, the rocky-road bed and the large Mexican briefcase with the gin.

That case had its unique odor. It kind of stank. An adoring Mexican fan had given it to John, and it was large and highly decorated with a Mexican calendar seal, and it had three large locks. But it had been cured in Mexican fashion – in bull manure! John delighted in carrying it when he had an appointment with someone he did not like because the effect in a warm room on a rainy day was quite overpowering.

When we arrived in Chicago, the de Kruifs met us. We went to the Drake Hotel and dined on delicious red snapper soup. That was the only real food we had time for before we caught the train for New Orleans. The de Kruifs had sandwiches made for us at the Drake. We went to the train and on to New Orleans where we were met by Marge and Howard Hunter. It was nostalgic to see New Orleans again, a city of so much spirit and life, and music.

We pulled into the station on a beautiful afternoon; we had tickets to leave the same day, but we had them changed to the next day. John was tired, and his legs were bothering him. Besides, he did not like trains that much anyway. When we left New Orleans there was, in addition to our wicker food basket, five bottles of Five Star Metaxa brandy, a parting gift from Howard. ‘You’ll need it, the train you’re going on has no berths, no sleepers, no anything,’ Howard informed us, encouragingly. The train did take us to Corpus Christi. Howard was right; we did need the brandy. We were both in a spirit of high adventure leaving New Orleans. John told me about Mexico City and places where we would go as the train clickety-clicked along the tracks.

We talked about taking a few side trips with our friends the Covarrubiases, probably to Mitla. ‘Of course, I don’t think they’ve finished the roads to Mitla, but we can always take the train,’ said John, smiling. I looked at him, and he burst out laughing. ‘Do you want to get on a train that soon again?’ I asked. We both broke up and laughed. Late that evening and about halfway to Corpus Christi our train stopped and pulled into a siding. It was pitch dark, and John and I decided to walk to the end of the car and investigate. Half an hour later it was apparent that our halt was for the military. Out of the darkness came shouts and the semi-abbreviated conversation known best to the army when something is about to happen. Then we heard screeching wheels. It was an army troop train.

The night was hot and humid; you could smell the sea, and the June bugs were thick. The doors were completely open, and I was driven back into the car by the mad desire of the bugs to reach the lights. I went back to our room, and shortly afterward John returned. ‘It’s a big sonofabitch, forty cars of kids,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind, honey, I’ll go back and talk to some of the boys. I might get an idea for an article.’ He left. I kicked off my shoes, rolled up his raincoat for a pillow, and settled back. Ninety minutes later, John came back. ‘Honey, they’re the saddest bunch of kids. I’m going to take back a bottle or two and give some of the kids a snort.’ He said the cars were open like cattle cars, but were screened and had bunks. ‘Frankly, those cars aren’t any cooler than where we are, but at least if we get up to twenty-five miles an hour, there’s a little breeze. Come back with me and meet some of the kids,’ he said, grabbing another bottle of gin and a brandy bottle. Off he went, and I followed.

We arrived in Corpus Christi around daybreak. The smell of the sea was strong, and all kinds of insects clung to the screening so you could hardly see out. When we stopped, we said goodbye to the young troops and returned to our car. In that hot and sticky town, our train moved forward, and then back, forward and back. This shunting went on for half an hour, then a conductor came in and politely informed us that our diner (if you could call it that) was about to be removed. He suggested we have coffee in the Corpus Christi station, then held up two tickets and told us that from there to Brownsville we would be eating at an army diner.

There were three army diners. We were given a timetable: midday meal at one, dinner at four. The conductor went on to tell us that we had better be prompt for our meals. We would be eating straight army chow. In case we were too late, he said, they were attaching a bar to our part of the train, and there would be an open grill where we could get sandwiches and coffee. ‘What kind of sandwiches?’ John asked. With John, you always had to be specific. ‘Fried ham,’ the conductor replied.

‘My God, I bet they slaughtered every pig west of Kentucky to put on this train! Let’s go and see what the thing looks like,’ John said. We left the car, walked the length of six cars, and arrived at what John called the ‘Elite Bar and Grille.’ The conductor had been right; it certainly smelled of ham, years of it. The air was blue with ham fat; a few officers clung to the bar, nursing swiveled barrel chairs, with beaten-up ashtrays on stands. The lights were still on, even though morning sunlight was breaking in. All the windows were closed. I felt ghastly and sat down on a chair next to the bar.

‘How does that go for breakfast?’ John asked an officer pointing to his beer. The officer next to him said, ‘I think you could drink a gallon of it and not feel it. You sweat it out in two minutes.’ John turned and said to me, ‘Do you want a beer, honey?’ ‘No thanks, I’ll try the coffee.’ He raised an eyebrow in his inimitable way (and he had such ways), and said, ‘And a fried ham sandwich?’ ‘Why not, I’m game.’ We began to laugh. All the food we’d had since New Orleans had been ham sandwiches! ‘What’s the joke,’ the young officer asked. John told him about our solid diet of ham sandwiches and then he, too, laughed. ‘Well,’ he began, ‘why don’t you and your wife be our guests, we have chicken and dumplings.’

As I have related, John was not a lover of chicken in any form, but the thought of a change in diet made his eyes light up. ‘I’d like you to meet my wife,’ he said. As the officer leaned over to shake my hand, he hesitated. The briefcase odor was working due to the humidity. I began to laugh to myself for I knew what he must have been thinking, but he was polite enough to continue. ‘Have a midday meal with me,’ he said.

‘We’ll be glad to, but I have a feeling that the chicken is going to taste like ham,’ said John. He showed the officer our food cards with the hours stamped on them. ‘Well, this doesn’t coincide with my time, but I’ll fix it so we can eat together. Let’s meet at the diner door around one-thirty, and I’ll take you in,’ he said.

We went back to our bedroom, and by now John was looking a little bleary-eyed, and I was exhausted. No sleep and all the heat, plus John’s Metaxa brandy, were beginning to show on his eyelids. We decided to get some sleep, but that was impossible. There was no air conditioning in those days, and the windows were sealed. We both collapsed in our beds, inhaling the same air over and over again. For whatever it was worth – and that was almost nothing – our inhalations were whirled back to us by a tiny electric fan. Of course, that was not all; there was this darling briefcase; its odor went around the little fan, too.

We gave up, wiped each other off with cold, wet Pullman towels, freshened ourselves as best we could and prepared for our chicken dumpling luncheon. We gradually pulled back on our soiled clothing, which somehow the little fan had managed to dry out. John suggested we walk back to the ‘Elite Bar and Grille,’ just for the exercise and to kill time. As we began to walk, the rocky roadbed made it seem as if we were traveling much faster, but we were not. We were going at about thirty-five miles an hour. We shouldered our way into the bar, and John asked the man in charge, ‘What time do we get to Brownsville?’ The man answered. ‘Don’ know exaklee, suh, but I does know, we’se goin’ to stop someplace midway and drop some cars.’ ‘Lord, not another delay,’ John said, in one of his ‘Oh shit!’ tones. ‘It won’ be long, suh, they’se jus goin’ to drop some o’ de troop train and we shud get into Brownsville aroun’ nine tonight.’ ‘Good Lord, do you have enough ham to last?’ John asked. ‘Yus, suh,’ was the very serious reply.

That was too much for us, and we both started laughing again; John had a beer, and he asked me for a cigarette. We both smoked too much all our lives. I only had two left, which we shared, and then he asked the bartender, ‘Do you have any cigarettes?’ ‘No suh, sorry.’ ‘You mean there are no cigarettes on this train?’ ‘No suh, but I’ll get you some of my Luckys, and when we stop midway there’s a little stand with newspapers and the like, and you can get some there.’ ‘How many do you have left?’ John asked the man. ‘Don’ know, but I’ll look.’ He produced a crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes from his jacket. There were four left. John gave him twenty-five cents for them, then went back to wearily nurse his beer.

I smoked. John kept looking at his watch. Finally, he said, ‘We’d better start for the diner.’ He paid for the beer, and we jostled, painfully, back to the diner. John went ahead, opening the doors chivalrously for me, then letting go so I received them, full force! This was unintentional, but it was the way of the roadbed. John could show chivalry as well as his meanness, but then, so can any man or woman. We arrived, no officer. We waited ten minutes in the vestibule, but still no officer. John went to the diner and looked around. A young military policeman demanded to see John’s card. He showed it, and when the MP saw the time, he said, ‘You are too late.’

John’s disposition flew apart like a July Fourth pinwheel when anyone spoke to him with that kind of authority, especially when John felt he was in the right. He was too overtired and hungry to be polite to a uniform. Under ordinary circumstances, John always had the greatest respect for anything in uniform; even had a little fear of a uniform. But this was too much for him. Usually, John was a soft-spoken man and seldom raised his voice, but by now he was in high C and informed the MP that we had been invited to dine by an officer. Sorry, no luck. Finally, he drew up his best resources and informed the young man, ‘Look here, my wife is standing in the vestibule, she’s pregnant, and has had nothing but HAM for thirty hours, and if she doesn’t get something decent to eat she will get constipated! I WON’T HAVE IT! YOU HEAR? SHE HAS GOT TO COME IN AND SIT DOWN!’

Complete silence coincided with his utterance of the word ‘constipated.’ Because of his wrath (and it was) he had not heard the train come to a complete halt, and beautiful silence collaborated with ‘constipated.’ The next few moments were somewhat of a blur. John flopped his arms like a duck in winter, and his one eyebrow was practically up to his hairline, yet somehow and quickly the door opened, and I was ushered in and seated at a table, the first one on the right of the door. By now, John was mumbling, and he pushed my chair up to the table neatly and with the most utmost politeness (he could be so polite when he wanted to be) and placed the briefcase at my feet. All the uniforms were to my back, but I could tell instantly that the men were finishing their meal. Finally, I understood what John was saying to me. ‘I’m going to get off here, honey, and get some cigarettes.’

‘If we’re not going to get into Brownsville until nine, and considering the way we both feel now, I think you’d better double our quota,’ I said. ‘Right!’ John answered, and began to mumble again. By then it was obvious that we were both tired out and dirty, and one of us was very hungover. Furthermore, for some reason I was embarrassed by the whole thing – why, I shall never know – but I was, and filled with a bleak feeling. I just wanted to get back to my berth. John kept mumbling and said, ‘Do you have any money, honey? I’ve only got twenties.’

‘I think you’d better hurry, darling; remember the man said we’d only be here a few minutes.’ With that, I received a very snappish retort. ‘Well, if it’s anything like the rest of this trip we’ll still be here and won’t get to Brownsville until tomorrow!’ John was angry with everyone, including me. I had the good instinct not to reply, but placed my napkin on my lap and stared straight ahead. ‘Himself’ opened the diner door and his feet clomped down the metal steps as I sat waiting patiently for my army fare: my first thrilling experience and, I hoped at that moment, my last.

I sat for some time, staring toward the diner door when suddenly I was aware that there was daylight between the diner vestibule and the forward car. My first thought, naturally, was that I was moving, too. Somehow through my tiredness (my overtired body seemed to be moving) I realized that the car and I were standing stock still! I jerked my head around to find I was all alone. Behind me, at the end of the car, there was daylight. I jumped from the table, opened the door and glanced down into the familiar face of our conductor. The same instant, he saw me. ‘Lady, what the hell are you doing here? We’re taking off after the army diner.’

‘But my husband,’ I cried out. ‘Can’t wait,’ he said, and leaped up the steps, grabbed me around the waist, I grabbed my full- length Beaver coat and the briefcase, and we both jumped. We landed surefooted on the moving vestibule of the car. I screamed again, ‘BUT MY HUSBAND, HE’S GETTING CIGARETTES!’ ‘Can’t stop now, lady.’ I interjected, ‘But we’re supposed to have lunch.’ ‘Can’t help it, we take this car off here and pick up another one at six o’clock.’

For some stupid reason, I looked at him and said, ‘But we were supposed to have dinner at four.’ Somehow I managed to get back to our carriage, and there was no John. My husband had disappeared. I first thought that he had forgotten about me and was up in the bar car again. Yes, I said to myself, that’s what he did, he saw the train moving and went to the bar. I pulled myself together, straightened my hair and began the six-car trek forward. I staggered into the ‘Elite’ – no husband. ‘Have you seen my husband?’ I asked the bartender. ‘No, ma’am.’

We were not traveling very fast, and suddenly we came to a quick halt. There was the sudden noise of joining couplings and, again, we were moving. I sat in a swivel chair waiting for John, aware that we were gaining speed. I was, I admit, frantic. I got up, staggered all over the bar and asked the steward, ‘If my husband missed this train, where can I catch up with him? Is there another train going through?’ ‘Don’t know, ma’am, but I know one thing: he ain’t been in here.’

I sat down again, and then I recognized the first signs of maternity. I became quite ill, yet I held it inside. It was not the usual morning sickness, it was a rage that kept growing. I had already lost a child, and somehow this rage and fear kept building. I was beside myself with anger and tiredness. By now, we were moving at a good twenty miles an hour. A kind of bitterness grew, yet I tried to control it. I got up again and went to the bar. ‘What did we hitch onto?’ I asked the bartender. ‘Well, I guess they hitched up to the troop train again, ma’am.’

By then, my anger was complete. I thought John must have known about the diner. He must have tried to make the train. I know where he is, the ‘sonofagun,’ I said to myself, he’s bought a case of beer and is whooping it up with the troops. I had reached such a point of anger where the thought of desertion entered my mind – cruelty and the nobody-loves-me feeling. Then it happened. Heavy panting. I looked up to see six feet of very disheveled man, covered with road soot, knees out of both trouser legs, shoulder pads awry, one slipped halfway off, and one cheek embedded with cinders. I hung onto the side of the chair, looked up and said, ‘Did you get the cigarettes?’

[3monthsineurope]

September 9 and 10, 2021

Thursday I got to spend time with Ingvar! I picked him up from 9 days in Alaska with his dad, the night before. So we went to the new apartment, ran errands, and went out to breakfast together. I really missed him! We hung out at home and then I packed for the family trip to Mexico! Mom, Dad, Haley, and I were going to Cozumel and Cancun! We were supposed to go to Mexico in June 2020, then November 2020, and now it was finally happening—in September 2021! Ileft Bellingham right before 5pm. It was hard to say goodbye to Ingvar after only 18 hours together, but at least we would be able to talk and text, unlike when he was in the boonies in Alaska!

I drove down to Camano and met Mom and Dad. Mom and I were sharing an extra suitcase, my medium Away suitcase that matches my blush carry on! I had a free bag checked with Delta, which is what we were flying. We loaded that up with Mom’s half’s, then the three of us drove down to SeaTac to spend the night. We stopped at Taco Time for some dinner, then drove down to the Red Roof in on International Boulevard in SeaTac. We got into the hotel around 8pm. We brought all of our luggage up to the room, room 102, and hung out for a bit. Dad fell asleep first (of course, hahaha), while Mom and I watched some TV and I also started the transfer of my new phone! I was so excited to get a new phone with a better camera! I fell asleep around 11.

The three of us woke up at 4:30 on Friday. It was time to go to Mexico! I washed my face and we checked out of the room around 5am. Dad and I walked across the street to Master Park, Lot B, where Mom always parks her car for trips. We hopped on the shuttle to the airport, then got dropped off near the Delta check in desks. We dropped off our medium bag at baggage drop, then headed to security. I left Mom and Dad for a few minutes to finish my Clear registration. Clear is a perk that comes with my American Express Platinum card. Clear is a service that checks you through security with your eye and fingerprint biometrics. I finished my registration with an agent, and went through TSA precheck quickly, then met up with Mom and Dad after general security. I was excited to take Mom and Dad to the American Express Centurion Lounge! We found it in B gates, right near our own gate, B7. The lounge opened at 6, so we waited in a line for about ten minutes, for it to open. At 6, we made our way inside. I love the Centurion Lounge at SeaTac! We sat at two high top tables and we all grabbed some breakfast. I had a mimosa and some toast with goat cheese and honey, and some sausage patties. We hung out in the lounge for about 30 minutes, then it was time to board for our flight!

Mom and Dad stopped at Hudson News and got some magazines, then we got our passports checked and boarded the plane. We were all three in row 31, almost to the back. I sat at the window, Mom in the middle, with Dad in the isle. Our flight was going directly to Cancun, which was really nice! It was going to take about five and a half hours. Dad read his paper and watched Jerry Miguire, Mom napped and watched a movie about Biggie and Tupac, and I tried to nap and did my make up eventually. I listened to some music on my older phone (it wasn’t all downloaded on my new phone yet), and we chatted some too. Before we knew it, we were landing in Cancun!

The three of us gathered all our things and took our time getting off the plane. We were going to wait about two and a half hours for Haley. We went through customs and got our passports stamped, then collected our medium bag at baggage claim. Once we exited the terminal, we were bombarded with people trying to “help” us (get our business, or take advantage of us). I ended up asking a nice looking woman how to get to terminal 4, where Haley was landing with JetBlue. She told us about a free shuttle between terminals and where to catch it. She was really nice! Another woman came up to me and was semi rude and pestering me, but we left her. We went outside and found our way to the free shuttle. We waited about ten minutes and hopped on, then arrived at terminal 4.

Outside of terminal 4, a guy helped us into a waiting area for family and friends. It was kind of confusing, but it ended up working out. We sat down at a restaurant outside of terminal 4 and waited a few hours for Haley. The three of us shared some chicken nachos and a chicken burrito. I ended up getting a huge frozen mango margarita, hahah! Dad had a beer and Mom had a Diet Coke. It sure was hot out! We were all sweating. We people watched and hung out. Around Haley’s flight arrival time we found our transportation company, Lomas. Martin was happy to see us, because it hadn’t been communicated to their company that Mom, Dad, and I were waiting for Haley. We had communicated and confirmed with our travel agency, JetSet Travels, but I guess they didn’t communicate that to Lomas. Anyways, he was happy to see us. We left our luggage with him and went into the terminal to wait for Haley.

Eventually, Haley cleared customs and came out— it was so good to see her! We walked back outside and Martin got the four of us into a private taxi to Playa del Carmen. The drive was about an hour and pleasant enough. We all got to chat and catch up. Our driver didn’t speak much English, but that was okay. He drove a lot of side streets and eventually dropped us off in a popular shopping street near the ferry. A man from Lomas named Ruben greeted us from the taxi and walked us through some streets to the ferry. He gave us our ferry tickets for 8pm, and left us to either explore or sit down at Senior Frogs, a popular tourist restaurant chain all around Mexico.

We decided to sit down at Senior Frogs, since we now had five roller bags with us. Mom, Dad, and I had Diet Cokes and Haley had a drink. We all shared nachos (again, hahah) and then it was time to board the ferry! We grabbed all our bags and put them through a security X-ray, and headed down the dock. We were some of the last people to board the ferry. They took our luggage which was nice, but also unexpected. We decided to sit upstairs to have a breeze. We were getting pretty tired, so we were looking forward to finally making it to our hotel. The ferry took about 45 minutes to get to the Cozumel island. Surprisingly, 100,000 people live on the island! While on the ferry, there was a man performing with different flutes and singing, which was really nice. Once the ferry docked, we grabbed our luggage and headed out of the terminal.

We met a man from Lomas, Carlos. He was in charge of us and all of our transportation. He told us he would meet us at our hotel, Allegro, the next day, at 10am to talk about all our transportation details. He put us into a taxi, and we drove for about 20 minutes. We finally arrived at our hotel! It was about 9:30. What a long day! We checked in and discovered that we had two rooms, one for Mom and Dad, and one for Haley and I. Dad wasn’t super stoked about it, but there wasn’t much we could do about it. We gave the front desk all our info and got bracelets for all inclusive and then a man helped us to our rooms with all of our luggage. Our rooms were just one building apart. We both had top floor rooms. Each building had 8 rooms. Haley and I hung out in Mom and Dad’s room for a while, then it was time for Dad’s bedtime.

Mom, Haley, and I left Dad to sleep and headed to the bar in the main resort building. It was so fun to have all inclusive! I had a few glasses of sparkling wine, Haley had a few glasses of white wine, and Mom had a few Diet Cokes. We listened to some live music and watched some dancing. We were very happy to be in Mexico! The bar closed at 11, so we all went back to our rooms. I took a shower which felt soooooo good. When I got out of the shower, Mom knocked on our door. She was missing her phone! Yikes. Haley went with her back to the bar, and thankfully they found her phone! Phew. That would have been a huge bummer. Haley came back to the room, and we called it a night. We went to sleep around midnight, happy to all be together and in Mexico! :]

[insomniiyac]

Finished my third (and hopefully last) BNHA baby, Anthony~. I tried to copy the whole ref thing and failed horribly. 10/10 will never do again ;__;

Sorry for the low quality, I had to use freaking Google Slides for the text ;__;

She’s totally open for friends and such, so reblog if you’re interested

██████  G E N E R A L //  I N F O

“If it wasn’t illegal, I’d have my birthday suit as my hero suit.”

name : Anthony DeLosReyes (

アンソニー・デロスレイズ)

nickname(s) : “Aunt Anthony”, “The Secret Weapon” (Neito) hero name : Inka age// birthday : 18 ll February 28th gender : female height // weight : 5'7 [172.72 cm] // 168lbs blood type : undetermined

nationality:  Venezuelan-American

class :  1-B (temporarily) / 3-A

██████ B A T T L E  // I N F O

quirk type : Blood Ink

quirk description :  Anthony’s quirk is a mutation of the illness hematidrosis. Hematidrosis, also referred to as blood sweat, is a rare condition in which a human being sweats blood. It is very rare, so it is not very understood. However, the blood sweat generally happens in times of fear and stress. With her quirk, it is the combination of her father’s excess blood quirk and her mother’s ink manipulation quirk. Her blood is a combination of red blood cells and specialized ink cells that she can control at will by drawing it out of her pores and manipulating it.

ability1: (Ink Typhoon)- Anthony wields her ink blood as a huge wave, drowning those in it. Can cause anemia.

ability2:  (Bullet Bonanza)- Combining her ink blood with keratin, she hardens it and shoot at her opponents. Very painful with strong chances of tearing of the skin.

ability3: (Ink Poisoning)- Blood Ink gets released as toxic gas, poisoning those in the area (up to 25 sq feet). Only available under times of intense stress when skin is heated enough. ability4: (Magenta Magic)- She can harden her blood and wield them as weapons such as gauntlets and bats. quirk drawbacks : This is a very unstable and dangerous quirk for its user, so if Anthony isn’t careful she may end up hospitalized from severe anemia. To use this quirk effectively, she has to keep a healthy workout regime and food palette with lots of nutrients as well as staying within a certain weight class. Stats:    power: [4/5] B    speed  [2/5] D    technique[3/5] C    intelligence [5/5] A    cooperativeness[5/5] A

██████ P E R S O N A L //  I N F O

personality :  Anthony, as described by most, is a very relaxed individual. There isn’t much that she’s particularly fazed by and often keeps up an air of optimism wherever she goes. She is also very hardworking and persistent in her goals. Despite growing up with a “literal IV needle in her arm” as she would describe it, it never stopped her from traveling overseas to become a hero.

likes : >>Spicy food. Everything needs spice- even lollipops. She refuses to eat one if it isn’t covered in chili flakes. >>Hair cuts. She prefers her hair short and loves the look of a fresh cut from time to time. >>Lighters. She doesn’t smoke or anything, but she is an avid collector of antique lighters. >>Music. Any in general, really. She has no real preference. Being naked. She’s very confident in her skin and wishes the world was the same way.

dislikes : >>Injustice. Only a villain would like that. >>Lazy, entitled people. She’s had to work hard to get to where she was today and she expects others to put in that same energy. >>…That’s about it, really. She’s fairly open-minded to things.

history : Anthony grew up as an only child to a biker father and a tattoo artist mother in New Mexico, America. Her quirk manifested at the very early age of two which made it very uncontrollable for those around her. She was often dehydrated and sick, often waking up to the horror of being in a pool of her own blood. She had to walk around with an IV needle in her at all times to keep her from passing out and was home schooled up until junior high where they felt she could control her quirk a little better. There, she was able to meet friends and develop the social life she never had growing up. She often hid her quirk and pretended to be quirkless for a while as to not freak anyone out for sweating literal ink blood. However, she drew inspiration from her favorite Japanese hero, Vlad King, whose blood manipulation quirk was similar to hers. Studying her favorite hero closely- she attempted time and time again to manipulate her quirk, mostly with damning results. She’d stay out in the school gym for longer nights as she trained herself to become a hero just like her idol. When she hit eighth grade, a huge opportunity had rise for her. Her school (which was a middle to high school) had recently developed the Hero Acceleration Program (or HAP). The HAP is an international program created for other schools to learn and replicate the same practices and experiences that are offered at Yuuei. A select amount of students are handpicked all over the world to be sent to Yuuei for free through this program and report their experiences back to their home countries. The requirements are that they are to have at least 200 hours of volunteer work, fluent in Japanese speech and writing, a GPA of 3.75, and have at least passed two AP Hero Courses with an A. They tend to pick out those from freshman to sophomore year and is automatically set up with an internship of their choice. Sacrificing the perks of high school life and social interaction, she dedicated herself to meet these requirements; studying kanji and spoken formal and informal Japanese, constantly doing volunteer work after school and on weekends, and loads of studying as well as physically training her body to its limits. She was able to fulfill all of the requirements by sophomore year, though there was one problem… her parents. They didn’t trust her to go overseas without them due to fear of her quirk taking over and killing her and them not being able to do anything about it so they held her back for another two years. Anthony trained harder, hard enough to prove to her parents that she can control it and that she was responsible enough to live out there on her own. She refined her Japanese, learned her social norms, and also lived her social life she never had the ability to years ago. They finally relented and flew her out to Japan where she attends Yuuei. There she met her childhood hero and got so emotional from the fact that he had accepted her to mentor. They set her back as an extra in 1-B so she can get used to how things worked in there for a semester. She wasn’t able to participate in the Sports Festival or the School Field Trip due to her HAP status in the school, but she participates in the training exercises and regular class time. During the duration of her time in 1-B, she took on the nickname “Aunt Anthony” due to her laid-back attitude and her tendency to play a secondary mentor to the others. Recently, due to her level of intelligence and quirk control, she was placed up to 3-A.

██████ R E L A T I O N S H I P S//  I N F O

Sekijiro Kan

: Her biggest idol growing up as well as her mentor. They have a very father-daughter relationship that her actual father gets jealous of- but can’t really blame him. Kan often looks out for Anthony despite her class change and will do random checks with the teacher to make sure she doesn’t get too comfortable. The fact that she even interns under him is still surreal to her.

Pony Tsunotori

: She took a huge liking to Pony Tsunotori who shared her nationality as foreigners from America. They frequently speak to each other in English, Anthony teaching her a bit of Japanese to hopefully combat Neito’s influence on the poor girl.

Neito Monoma

: Neito’s crush is pretty one-sided, though he mostly shows it through passive-aggressively making jabs at her and other genuine mischief. He’s secretly happy that 1-B has a very capable student in their class that can probably rival majority of 1-A despite it all. Anthony knows this and continuously plays along in entertaining his crush, possibly even developing one for the sap.

██████ T R I V I A L //  I N F O

“Aw babes, don’t make that face. I’ll always be your Aunt Anthony, no matter what~!”

Family:   DeLosReyes, Gael (41) - Alive  Quirk Type      Blood Overgeneration     DeLosReyes, Ximena (38) - Alive   Quirk Type      Ink Manipulation

Friends:  Pony Tsunotori, Itsuka Kendo, Neito Monoma, Ibara Shiozaki, (all of Class 1-B really, lol), Izuku Midoriya, Kirishima Ejirou

hobbies :

drawing intricate patterns and artwork.

fun facts + headcanons:

1) Anthony is actually fluent in three languages: English, Spanish, and Japanese.

2) She managed to sucker her mom into tattooing her body as a parting gift before she left to Japan.

3) She was originally supposed to be shipped with Tetsutetsu (in which I have a fic that I may or may not post >u>)

4) She’s a nudist which is mainly why her costume shows so much skin. She uses overheating mainly as an excuse.

[peterjonesparker]

have a soulmate au in the form of headcanons because i am too lazy and unmotivated for fic right now. this is slightly inspired by the song whole wide world by cage the elephant, which is a jam and peter parker would totally listen to it, our little mainstream indie music lover. also there is a soulmate au fic with ~soulmate words~ that is phenomenal and everyone should read it. you can find it here. (seriously it’s so good please read it i’m in love) (also, i’ve taken spanish for a long time and yet am still so bad at it so if you speak spanish and i’ve managed to fuck up the one sentence i needed to craft, please let me know and i’ll fix it. rip me and my sad spanish education)

part two now here.

peter is like...the most excited to see what his words will be

he’s thirteen and his still haven’t shown up

some of his friends already have theirs. (hell he met one person who’d already met their soulmate.) other are waiting just like him

and like...of course there’s a part of peter that’s worries he’ll never develop words and never have a soulmate

may tells him that of all the people in the world, he’s going to find love no matter what

which is comforting for a bit but he’s still worried

no one really understands the timeline of soul mark development. some people are born with their words, some get their words when they develop speech, some get their words when they enter puberty, others get their words on a random wednesday while they’re slurping the last bits of applesauce from their cup in the dining hall

everyone is different, but it’s still a special moment. and usually soulmates will develop their words around the same time

and then one day may is doing the laundry and asks peter for the filthy shirt he’s wearing (he tried to play football with the other kids in his class and it went very, very poorly for him. read: he was pushed into the muddy puddle from this morning’s rain) and then she gasps and drops the laundry basket

“peter, your words!” and peter’s eyes widen and he gasps and runs to the mirror to see the words scribbled across his right pec

and: “they’re in spanish?”

may scrunches her eyes and read the words more closely. “oh yeah. that’s exciting! maybe your soulmate lives in a different country.” she hugs him tightly. “i knew you’d get your words. we’ll have a special dinner tonight. i’ll tell ben” she picks the laundry basket off the floor and grabs the shirt peter’d dropped in his rush to get to the mirror. “i’d ask mr. delmar what your words say.”

peter spends the next hour until dinner researching statistics. he finds out spanish is the second most popular language in the us and there are twenty two spanish speaking countries. so, in all honesty, his search for his soulmate isn’t any narrower

some people’s words give them hints. words like “wow, don’t you just love central park at sunset?” or “i always used to hate new year’s eve, but this party is actually a lot of fun.”

part of peter wishes his words would tell him something about where or when he’d find his soulmate. but all he knows is that his soulmate speaks spanish and has lost their dog

so naturally, peter starts taking spanish classes. because he wants to be able to communicate with his soulmate and he doesn’t know if his soulmate will be able to speak english. so spanish class it is

and he actually really likes the language and he practices with mr. delmar and ned’s taking it too

and peter starts researching everything about spanish speaking countries and dreams up plans to visit them. he’ll visit the major cities in each country and also visit cities in the us with a large spanish speaking population. he figures those will increase his odds of finding his soulmate

so peter’s soulmate becomes his main concern

but then he gets bitten by a radioactive spider and he develops superpowers and becomes spiderman

and then ben dies. and it fucking sucks

and his soulmate seems less important for a while

honestly, he almost forgets about his soulmate. he still takes spanish because he figures it’s important to learn, soulmate aside. but he stops doing research and he stops talking through his trip plans with may

he focuses on grieving with may and protecting the little guy

and it’s nice

it works for a while

he and may are incredibly close and he feels like he’s actually helping people

and then at the beginning of his sophomore year as he’s sitting in his intermediate spanish class and barely paying attention, he hears his words

“hola. ¿me puedes ayudar a buscar mi perro?”

and peter’s eyes widen and he turns toward the voice that just spoke to him and said his words

it’s michelle jones. she’s on the decathlon team. they’ve obviously never spoken. but they’ve exchanged head nods as they passed each other in the hall. and he spent so long planning all these wonderful trips to different countries and mapped out dog parks in each city and it was all so he could be sitting in a classroom in new york city in high school

so

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

and he watches as michelle’s eyes widen and then narrow, her mouth falls into a scowl, she grabs her book bag, spits out a hasty “fuck you”, and storms out of the classroom

fuck

peter parker is an idiot

100% the dumbest person he knows

so he grabs his bag and runs after michelle, calling her name and ignoring the teacher’s protests and demands that they stay in the classroom

he runs to the library, which is the place he’s seen her most often, and finds her hidden away in the book stacks toward the back

she’s got her head stuffed in a book, like she usually does, but her eyes are slightly puffy and red

he walks slowly, as if he’s afraid she’ll run off again. but if she notices him, she doesn’t do anything to show it. she just continues to read her book, looking resolutely forward and not at all toward him as he puts his hand against the bookshelf to lower himself down beside her

he opens his mouth to say something but she speaks first

“you know, this whole soulmate business is a load of bullshit. i hope you know that.”

and. it stings. he realizes he’s just pissed her off immensely and she probably wants nothing to do with him. but his heart swelled a bit when he heard her say his words. and he was glad. and also just...surprised

but then she continues, voice slightly broken and her eyes watery: “what did i do? how were you already disappointed?” then, slightly more indignant: “i’m fucking awesome, just so you know. you’d be so lucky.” she whispers the last part, going back to her book. she sounds incredibly vulnerable and peter feels like an unmitigated ass

“i’m not disappointed it’s you.” he glances over at her, but she’s still got her eyes trained on the book. “it’s actually kind of funny.” he chuckles and michelle sends him a death glare and he pales a bit. “it’s just, you spoke to me in spanish! i thought my soulmate was going to be in another country or maybe only spoke spanish or something. i thought i was going to have to sit in dog parks waiting around for someone to ask me for help. i didn’t think it’d be in spanish class.”

and even to him the excuse sounds silly and doesn’t at all justify the fact that michelle had to look at her words, worrying that her soulmate was already disappointed and he feels so badly and wishes he had more social graces and would have said something nicer and more suave

but he’s peter parker and he’s awkward and he never says the right thing. and michelle might not want anything to do with him ever. which, would hurt. he wants to fall in love with his soulmate. he wants to be friends with her and study with her and get coffee with her and plan their lives

but some soulmates don’t stay together. for whatever reason, sometimes it doesn’t work out. and maybe peter’s just someone who won’t have this soulmate bond. maybe he’s just going to live his life and remember how he ruined everything with the first words he said to his soulmate

but then michelle is scoffing. she grabs a pen from her bag and then his hand and is writing down ten digits on his palm

“you’re lucky you have a cute butt.” and with that she stands and walks away

peter looks after her, confused and slightly in shock and also blushing because she said he had a cute butt

and michelle says quickly, right before she leaves their little alcove, “text me and try not to fuck it up this time, loser.”

and then she’s really gone and peter’s staring at his hand and this is her phone number

he’s a little thrilled. and then he thinks about all his plans to travel to mexico and panama and ecuador and argentina and spain and all the other spanish speaking countries

and he thinks that it’ll likely be more fun to travel with his soulmate anyway

[twistedinthesun-blog]

I Love Turtles!

I want to share my experience of volunteering with Projects abroad in Mexico! Monday ...We got collected by the same person who picked us up from the airport and then he drove us to the bus station about 40 odd minutes in busy traffic. At the station he would buy our tickets and we met up with another mum (Kendra) and son (Harry 9 years old) who were also going on the trip, I was very pleased with this as my son had company and he was already more excited! Our driver left us and then we all got onto the coach and were told to get off at the last stop and to get comfy as we would be on this coach for over 5 hours :/ luckily it had air conditioning an nice seats and it wasn't your typical bus that you would imagine it to be like off films with all of us standing up holding on and swinging around sweating full of kids, goats, chickens, no sides, loud talking and Mexican hats lol. We had several stops at service stations where you could go to toilet buy something to eat etc. We finally arrived at our last stop and Paolo met us, we then all got into the van and he drove us to the beach house. It was absolutely stunning not modern more eco but still perfect being right on the beach. We met some of the team Jennha, etc and they showed us to our rooms, put down our stuff and then a little while later they showed us around, lunch was already there waiting for on the side we all had something to eat the food was delicious and cooked by a local whose husband worked for the group and his wife would cook fresh every day. It was so healthy and delicious. We also had fresh food in the fridge, tins etc in cupboards and sugar... but be careful an make sure you secure things as the ants will be in there for sure. They got into the sugar an cereal boxes and were everywhere the little naughty’s.  We sat outside on the bench by the beach and went over everything  we would be doing for the following week it was very exciting indeed. While we were getting our brief my son Jake and Harry were jumping in and out of the pool and living their best life! Later we went on a beach clean and all of us collected lots of rubbish on the beach after that we got back and relaxed, then Pablo an the team surprised us with our first hatchlings with Jake and Harry got to count and pick up the babies and place them onto the beach and we watched them go off into the ocean. What an experience to witness! We took as many videos and pictures as we could capture the moment but it is up there in our memory. Later that evening Amy my friend was on her first night patrol where she would luckily see two turtles laying her eggs, how wonderful to experience this on the first night. It was out of season too! She collected the eggs as to keep them safe back & they would take them back to the conservation camp away from poachers.  

The next day we woke up and had breakfast and have to all be in the van by 8 a.m. unfortunately that evening my son Jake had developed a fever which he could have got from sunstroke lots of travelling, food or perhaps a bite? So we had to stay home and I looked after him while the others went to the camp. I was very disheartened that this has happened but that is life. The next few days he was very ill. I managed one afternoon when he was sleeping, so I gave him meds an got to go with the crew and go on the riverboat and experience some wonderful birds fish crocodiles etc it was truly beautiful. We have to count how many birds we could see in one area to try and build up some data. Of course the lovely Jennah stayed at the beach house to be there to watch Jake, it was perfect timing as he awoke when I arrived back an mumma was ready to look after him again.   

On the third day (Wednesday) Paolo took me and Jake to the doctors as his temperature was still high and his throat was killing him and he was very weak. There and then they issued him an injection in his buttocks and it really hurt him but within an hour he felt great. In the injection was a potent mixture of antibiotics painkillers and something else, I wonder why we don't have this back in the UK obviously money reasons but it was amazing. As he didn't have to wait to feel better after days getting antibiotics. Over the next few days he did have to have other antibiotics and painkillers but he improved massively and then we could finally start to enjoy the experience.  On my first patrol I went out on the second night when my son was ill Amy looked after him, and unfortunately I didn't see any turtles laying eggs but we did witness a turtle and she was trying to do it, but couldn't it, was simply amazing on the quad bike going up and down the beach with all the glistening stars. I was looking up an in disbelief at how many more there were in the sky due to no city lights.  

Thursday - the day after the doctor's appointment we got up and we had breakfast and then we went to our first time to the turtle camp we had a little look around and we looked after the baby turtles they were super cute. We had to clean out there tanks, clean them with little toothbrushes, cleaned the tops of their shells and underneath and very gently on their heads. We then chopped up the veg and prepared the food for the iguanas, opened cage carefully & put the iguana food in the iguana containers. We then finished an went to help the others a little, they were cleaning the big turtle tanks. Work was finished by about 10:30am in the morning as the sun was starting to get hot so we headed back to rest and chill by the beach house. Bliss!  What chill was involved, well either lounging round the pool, or laying on the hammocks swinging left to right while watching an listening to the ocean & watching the birds flying. I'll never forget it! Paradise. Not a busy beach, just perfect. I hope that in the future they can protect more of the land around the turtle camp, beach and mangroves and make it as a national park to protect animals and humans can then respect the area and just visit but take their rubbish with them.  We took it in turns to go out on night patrols either near midnight or at 3am in the morning. Reason for this was to do with the times the turtles lay at this time of year & to do with the sea currents, moon etc. Jake & me went out together twice over the week, he absolutely loved the quad bike along the beach & we witnessed together a turtle laying & bearing her eggs, then we collected them by digging them out with our bare hands & counted them. over 100 ... wow! The eggs felt bendy, but they wouldn't brake easy, they were white in colour & not overly large. Similar to a ping bong ball. It was a truly special moment that  I will definitely remember forever. Especially very lucky to do this with my son!  

Friday - We had the job of cleaning out the large tanks & cleaning & moving the large turtles. This was a little bit more physical as we had to scrub the tanks with bleach and sweeping brushes and rinse out with water several times and then move the turtles, clean their large shells and their heads & fins gently. They were fairly heavily as they were older turtles so two of us had to do it, one would be at the front by its head and another person at the back to carefully slide them along. It was very difficult to lift them and they also don't like being lifted so we respected them. If a staff worker did this to make things faster, they would flap there fins an look annoyed lol.  

Friday afternoon - We moved the mangroves into the van & planted them near the other mangroves already there. I did not know a lot about them before this, but they are very important plants to the areas ecosystem, environment as well as a natural flood defence.We had to dig in the piping hot sun, which was physically hard, yet rewarding; Jake very much enjoyed whacking & digging the mud & chopping up twigs with the axe! I worked with my two friends today, Tina, Amy as well as Pablo & my son, and us girls got bitten alive by mosquitoes as they are always close to water & trees. In total I got bit 16 times in one hour! hahaha. However as it was low season for mosquitoes I was happy about this, as it could of been a lot worse & more of them round by our pool. Next to the mangroves there is a degraded palm tree farm, where the trees have been cut down which has caused the land to become dry and cracked. Also polluted water has been causing the land to become a purple colour. This has had an impact on the local ecosystem.

 Nearly every afternoon we had to incubate the eggs from the night before from the night patrols. This involves getting on our hands and knees, taking the sand from the bags in eggs putting it at the bottom of the container and then delicately load in the eggs in with a little gap in between each and then put in more sand in from the beach and doing it in layers. They would then take it back to the camp. But some mornings a certain animal would get in and eat the eggs. This was very frustrating for the team. This is a reason why I and Amy want to start a JustGiving page so they can have money go towards making a proper secure unit or cage for the incubated eggs and so the animal cannot get in.  Saturday - One of the last afternoons we had to move tons of sand with a shovel and the bucket was placed on top of the quad bike where one of the team members would drive that heavy load up to the top. This had to be probably the hardest job out there especially as we did it in the hot sun, and we needed to do it within an hour and we were falling down holes and nearly whacking each other with shovels lol. The reason for moving the sand was every few months they had to change it for the incubation, creating a new incubation area.  

Tuesday - Our day to leave camp, we hugged and waved goodbye to the team, then Pablo & Jennah drove us to get our tickets an bus purchased by projects abroad. This time took longer, about 6 lonnnnngggg hours. Jake was so tired, he slept most of the way. Think we were all tired. But my oh my, what a trip, what an experience! I would recommend this to anyone.  

Why recommend it to anyone? - life experience, learning different cultures, experiencing different food, different countries, meeting new people, working with amazing animals an having a taste of what a zoo keepers life is like, learning new skills & helping towards making the world a better place.  Since finishing Projects abroad & adjusting to the UK life again, I am eager to go away more in the future with or without my son or my friends & taking part in more of these fabulous trips. I am now a brand ambassador for the company & will be soon going to local school/college fairs & hopefully doing talks to share my experiences with you all.  

[afrojonathan]

Day 1: Cartagena, Colombia

*Dusting this off*

The current trip I’m on is 10 days (and less than 2 months after my last international galavant [what a tough life I lead]), so I figured I’d tack on my South American adventures here. I know, I know - “AfroJonathan” doesn’t really apply.

I got up at 3:30am for a flight from NY to Cartegena (not Cartageña, as I’ve been calling it like a jerk), with a sizable layover in Fort Lauderdale.

The Fort Lauderdale airport is simply awful. I had flashbacks of having to fly out of here after Chris Brethel’s bachelor party, and all the rampant inefficiencies contained within. Luckily, I was much more equipped (see: not coming off a 3 day bender) this time. My “fondest” memory there was when we needed to go no more than 100 feet to another terminal, but they forced us to take a decrepit shuttle to it. They also loaded e shuttle backwards (IE people getting out first were loaded first, so we were packed in and needed to mash our way out with luggage mere moments later). “This is how it’s always been, so this is how it’s gonna be” was the motto we ascribed to them.

Did you come here for this type of content? Rants on old airports? No? Well, let’s get on to the good stuff!

Upon landing and fending off very aggressive cabbies, I got an Uber to my place. At first, I wasn’t impressed with what I saw, but then remembered that I was near the airport, and not to judge too harshly. Imagine a tourist landing at JFK in Manhattan and seeing the surroundings? It’s terrible! It’s not the real New York.

On my ride to the old town, Cartegena reminded me of many different places I’ve been lucky enough to explore in my life. First, it was like a beach town I went to Albania with Joe and Becka (long beach with not particularly nice buildings across the way).

Next, it reminded me Mexico (specifically Cozumel, from a scuba trip with my Dad), mostly based on traffic patterns and, of course, things being in Spanish.

Then, I took a corner along the beach and saw glistening skyscrapers across the bay, and it looked just like Doha, Qatar (I was relieved to see some serious infrastructure).

Lastly, as I entered the tiny streets of the walled city (entering through an also tiny entryway), it reminded me of Zagreb in Croatia, where I met Joe and Becka (second mention!) after a weary journey post-Oktoberfest (IE I was crumbling). Before my trip had even begun in earnest, I was overwhelmed with gratitude thanks to all my past travels.

I checked in and quickly headed back out to see the surroundings before the sun went down. This place is ALIVE. Vendors are trying to constantly sell you gum (and when you say no, it escalates to beer, weed, and cocaine), there are colorfully dressed women with fruit baskets balanced on their heads corralling folks for photos, there are people and horses ambling in the middle of the streets (to the chagrin of cabs), and overall there is just an energy. (I probably got offered cocaine 10+ times this evening). The air is also THICK with humidity. That means it’s tank top time!

As I wandered, I found the old town wall, which you can walk upon to peer at the beaches and sunset. There are also so many vendors here, including hat vendors. I think it must be a hat-based economy? Everyone is pushing hats at all times. It’s...too much. As my cousin Tim said, there’s no way the demand can meet the supply.

After exploring some more (it seems hard to get too lost), I found myself in the middle of a fairly large and loud protest at the Plaza de los Coches. I couldn’t grasp what it was about. With my eyes on the protest that was engulfing me, I accidentally bumped into one of the many corralling police officers (dude was huge!), who gave me a dirty look and kind of signaled me to move along. I didn’t belong here, and we both silently agreed on that quite quickly.

I headed to an old, stone-lined bar to have a beer and a rummer while chatting with a few of the bartenders (chatted as best I could, anyway. It’s more like I think of prepared statements and hope their responses aren’t too elaborate). I also noticed I was talking with a bit of a Southern Spain accent (think “grathiath” instead of “gracias”), as I was getting some weird looks. After making friends there, back I went, exploring the old town (I found the Hard Rock Cafe 😐) and rebuffing drug offers.

I ended up at the Clock Pub, which is associated with my Clock Hostel. They had the Patriots game on there, which was nice. So, I scarfed some food and had a few beers while gleefully smiling at the folks clearly rooting against the Pats.

My “plum cake” haircut (Francesco De Stales’ term) had fallen in the humidity, so I popped back to my centrally located hostel to freshen up and head to a cool bar called Alquímico for a few drinks and great beats. I chatted with the friendly folks at the bar and thoroughly enjoyed this sexy spot.

Realizing it was after 1am and that I got up at 3am, it was time to call it a day.

[thehikingviking]

Mt Rainier (14,411 ft) via Emmons-Winthrop Route

What more is there to say about Mt Rainier that hasn’t already been said? While guide services charge an arm and a leg to drag clients to the top, there is a certain level of pride earned from climbing the peak independently. I had waited many years to climb this peak, but my procrastination was well founded. Finding the right team members was the most important aspect of the climb. Each team member would need to have a certain level of fitness and some degree of high altitude glacial mountaineering experience. Since every route is heavily glaciated, each team member would also need to have the skills and fortitude to pull me out of a crevasse if necessary. The climbers would need to have the flexibility and wherewithal to adapt to the unstable weather of Washington State. Last but not least, a certain level of trust between team members needed to be earned. I had worked my way up the Pacific Northwest ladder, climbing Mt Adams, Glacier Peak, Mt Olympus and Mt Hood in subsequent years, and I had met a solid core of climbers willing to join from those previous trips, captained by Tynan Ramm-Granberg. We initially targeted June of 2018 for the Emmons-Winthrop Route, however a storm stopped the trip before it even got started. Our back up weekend was in July of 2018, but by that time the glaciers had started to break up, so we bailed and instead climbed Mt Jefferson on the fly. Mt Jefferson is considered to be a step up in difficulty when compared to Mt Rainier, and we learned that during our epic which I documented in the link below.

https://thehikingviking.tumblr.com/JeffersonOR

Another year passed and while the core of the team had remained the same, some members changed. We had Tynan, Jared and Jake from the Pacific Northwest. Tynan is the commander of all PNW expeditions due to his calm and amiable demeanor, high regard for safety and general mountaineering knowledge. Jared is one of the strongest and most fit outdoor climbers I know, in addition to an all around good guy. Jake was a collegiate all american wrestler, and is still a genetic specimen to this day. Then there was me, a guy from the Silicon Valley with some decent peak bagging experience and a boat load of heart. My fiance Asaka wanted to join, and while I wanted her to stay at home for this potentially dangerous outing, she eventually got her way after a series of arguments. Tynan hesitantly agreed, saying that she could come so long as she could pull him out of a crevasse. He required us to take crevasse rescue training, which we did in the spring of 2018 just outside of Lee Vining, California. As we were about to lock down the group and settle on a weekend, my friend Guillermo reached out to me asking if we could climb Mt Rainier that upcoming summer. We did have one more spot to make two, three person rope teams, so I ran it by Tynan. I explained that we met on Pico de Orizaba in Mexico and we hiked together throughout Nevada. While there is a glacier on Pico de Orizaba, it is nothing like the glaciers on Mt Rainier, so I truthfully explained that he had very limited glacier experience. Tynan’s response was the same as for Asaka, however I could sense that he was becoming uncomfortable with the recent unproven additions. To reassure him, I proposed that I would lead my own rope team of Guillermo and Asaka, while Tynan could manage his own rope team with Jake and Jared. This ensured that the new additions wouldn’t compromise Tynan’s summit bid or safety if things went awry. We still planned to hike alongside and assist each other if needed. Tynan took well to this proposal and we had our trip planned for June 21st-23rd.

Now I had to make sure my team was ready. Asaka and I spent a lot of time purchasing the right gear. I was mostly concerned about the cold, and worried about sleeping on the snow, which was something that neither Asaka nor I had done before. My two most important purchases were a brand new down jacket with a hood and a pair of La Sportiva Nepal Evo GTX mountaineering boots. Asaka planned to rent a pair of double plastic boots. The second thing I had to do was make Guillermo take a crevasse rescue course, and since I had already started to forget what I was taught a year ago, I also wanted Asaka and me to take a refresher course. To my pleasant surprise, the California Mountaineering Club offered a crevasse rescue training on San Gorgonio Mountain in March, so all three of us joined free of charge. I also learned that Guillermo took a similar training while in the Army, so with two courses under each of our belts, I felt confident that our team could extract one another if needed.

The day before our flight, the forecast projected a weather window for the 3 days we planned to be on the mountain. We landed in Seattle where Guillermo picked us up in his rental car. We drove to Enumclaw where I had a nice motel reserved for us. The next morning we drove to White River Ranger Station where we met the others at 7:30am. We grabbed our permit and continued to the White River Campground parking lot where we sorted gear. Helmet, harness, crampons, ice ax, 30m rope, pickets, carabiners, pulleys, prussiks, webbing and ice tools were needed JUST for the glacier travel. Adding this to the rest of our gear made for a heavy pack. There had been some debate on how many boots to bring. I decided to carry my mountaineering boots and hike in my trail runners to the snow, where I planned to stash them under a tree. This ended up being the right choice. We left up the trail around 9am, following the Inter Fork up the canyon beneath Goat Island Mountain.

The summit of Mt Rainier was hidden by clouds for the majority of the morning approach. The Inter Fork below was a milky white color from all the sediment in the water.

After 3.5 miles of forested walking we reached Glacier Basin. There was a campground with a bathroom and behind that an open meadow.

We sat next to the trail and switched our trail runners for our mountaineering boots. I picked a tree off the trail and stowed our shoes underneath its limbs.

I immediately felt the extra weight from my heavier boots when attached to my feet. The trail continued atop The Wedge, which was a dirt moraine at the base of the Inter Glacier.

We reached the toe of the Inter Glacier where we decided to rope up for practice. While there are crevasses on this glacier, I think most teams treat it like a standard snow field. Since we planned to go through the same routine the following morning on the frigid glacier in the midnight darkness, I welcomed this refresher as a chance to go over everything carefully. Tynan’s team, which I will refer to as Team 1, got set up much quicker than my team, which I will refer to as Team 2, but they patiently waited. Once we were set, we followed Team 1 up the initially gentle slopes of the Inter Glacier.

The Inter Glacier was very deceiving in appearance, and it took us much longer than I expected to reach the spur near the top. We saw our first crevasses about two thirds of the way up the glacier.

As we continued to climb, Guillermo started to drag. I found myself constantly feeling resistance from the rope. Every time I looked back, Guillermo was standing still sucking wind.

Team 1 started to open up a big gap between our two teams. Other teams started to pass us, which was an unwelcome feeling for me. Guillermo was feeling nauseous, and I started to worry about his chances of reaching the summit. We were still below 10,000 ft, and symptoms of AMS tend to worsen the higher you go. I also became concerned about reaching camp at an appropriate time. I really wanted to set up the tent early and get some rest. Guillermo’s condition was impacting the chances of success for the rest of Team 2.

We finally reached the spur a few hundred feet below and to the east of Steamboat Prow. It was already after 4pm. Where had the day gone? Little Tahoma Peak was an impressive sight across the Emmons Glacier.

Mt Rainier and the start of our ascent route on the Emmons Glacier was also visible. Hopes of climbing Steamboat Prow vanished as I now became focused solely on reaching camp. We first had to descend a few hundred feet down loose volcanic dirt to the Emmons Glacier, where we had to rope up again and climb several hundred feet to the camp.

I looked below and watched the parties ahead of us crawl like ants around a gaping crevasse.

We took a long rest here, which all of Team 2 needed. The cold wind was biting but we found rocks to hide behind to make it bearable. I was tired from all the rope drag and Guillermo’s situation seemed to be getting worse. I mentioned to Tynan that I was about to give Guillermo “the talk”, but Tynan mentioned that Guillermo had a back pack that appeared heavier than everyone else’s. I decided to reassess the situation at camp. Before we continued Guillermo let out a big burp and said he felt better. I was skeptical one burp would change his entire condition, but he was adamant that his nausea had dissipated.

We left our crampons on and climbed down the dirt to the side of the Emmons Glacier below, trying to avoid kicking down loose rocks as much as possible. We then tied in and began up the last few hundred feet before camp. We followed the boot track as we circumvented the giant crack in the ice. The thunderous roar of a chopper make its way over Little Tahoma Peak, most likely dropping off supplies at the ranger station below Steamboat Prow.

Team 1 opened another large gap between us even though the remaining distance was short. The pace of Team 2 remained slow, but we kept moving forward.

We finally reached Camp Schurman after 5pm, much later than I hoped for.

The first thing I did was scout places to put my tent. I chose a spot that was partially dug out, and since we only had one shovel between both teams, I went to work with my ice ax. Progress was very slow until another party kindly offered to lend me their shovel. I gladly accepted and went to work for the next hour. I directed Asaka go sit with Tynan and melt snow.

I put a lot of pride into my work, making the hole deep with a flat surface. I used all the dug out snow to make a wind break. Asaka kept telling me that I had dug enough, but I wanted to make a bomber shelter that was as wind proof as possible. I brought some small stuff bags and made snow anchors which I buried into the ice. Tynan and Jake shared a tent, while Jared and Guillermo shared another. Jared accidentally brought the wrong tent poles, but was somehow able to make the tent stand. Once all was set up, I tried to hydrate and mellow out. It had been a high stress day up to that point. Guillermo was in high spirits, and his altitude sickness symptoms had truly subsided after his big burp. Team 1 and 2 were both set for the climb. I visited the toilet at camp several times which was extremely clean. It was a funny set up, which I called the Winchester Mystery House of toilets. What a luxury to have in such a barren and desolate place. 

We ate dinner as we watched the clouds drift beneath us. We planned for a midnight start, hoping to reap the benefits of a more frozen glacier. I left the rope uncoiled next to our tent rested upon our ice axes. Needless to say, we went to bed early that evening.

The alarm went off prior to midnight. I didn’t sleep well, but I at least slept. We were the first group out of the tents. We all walked to our starting position, but Guillermo was having issues getting himself together. We patiently watched as he unpacked and repacked his bag, untied and retied his knots and ran to and from his tent to get some remaining items. At least 30 minutes passed as we stood idly on the ice. Internally, I began to get upset with the whole situation, but the rest of our group’s demeanor was calm, so I followed suit. It helped that no other group was up yet. The weather wasn’t unbearably cold and my new boots kept my feet warm. Once Guillermo finally tied in, we began our march up the Emmons Glacier. The route was pretty well established that weekend and the boot track was easy to follow. We quickly passed by a higher camp where another group was up and about. The first mile essentially had us climb straight up for 2,000 vertical feet. We made good time up this section and there was only one party of headlamps moving beneath us, giving us a sense that if anyone was going to make it, it would be us. This section of the Emmons Glacier had few open crevasses. At around 11,400 ft, we began to contour to climber’s right as we transitioned onto the Winthrop Glacier. Where one glacier ends and another begins is up to interpretation, however now the crevasses became more apparent. Light began to fill the air around 4am, much earlier than I expected, due to the northern latitude. Glacier Peak, which we mistakenly thought was Mt Baker at the time, was barely visible along the horizon.

We soon started to pass by some intimidating crevasses. Some sections were very icy and I don’t think self arresting could stop a fall. We took these sections very slowly.

After running parallel to several crevasses, we had our first visible crossing. While the gap was only 6 inches wide, I felt unsure about trusting the possibly overhanging snow at the lip of the crevasse. I peered down into the hole as I stepped across, and it was over 100 feet deep. Once we were all safely across, Guillermo pulled out his secret weapon; a bottle of Coca-cola. After a few sips the bottle slipped out of his hands and fell into the depths of the crevasse. At least it wasn’t one of us.

Guillermo realized that his crampon had come partially undone after jumping the crevasse. It took a long time, but Guillermo finally got his crampon back together and we continued following Team 1.

As the morning went on, Team 1 would wait longer and longer for us to catch up. I didn’t want to impact Team 1′s summit chances, so I told Tynan to continue on. I felt in control, and if a catastrophe was to happen, there were now other climbers on route that could assist us. Tynan was okay with splitting up, but we kept them in our field of vision for a while. We also let the group from the high camp pass us. They were full of energy and happy to be on the mountain. To me this was starting to feel like an endless chore.

We continued traversing until around 12,300 ft, where we took a long rest and had a split break. Guillermo’s other crampon had now come undone, so we waited again for him to iron out his mechanical issues. The lack of a good sleep had made me very grouchy, and these little delays slowly added to my grumpiness. Above us was Russell Cliff and the top of Curtis Ridge.

We were now clearly on the Winthrop Glacier. There were much fewer crevasses. Team 1 was now pretty much out of sight. The boot track formed a relentless series of switchbacks. I tried my best to set a pace that kept us relatively close to the group of three ahead of us.

The monotony of this section started to get to me. Gusts of winds were progressively increasing in strength. Each gust sent tiny shards of ice that stung my face. I had to stop hiking and brace for the larger gusts that I would see sweeping across the glacier. As we switchbacked higher and higher, I began to feel more and more resistance from the rope. Asaka began to feel the onset of altitude sickness. Our pace slowed considerably. Asaka resorted to her own secret weapon of Coca-cola.

Each rest became longer and each distance between rests became shorter. I urged Asaka to maintain a faster pace, but as time progressed she became more listless. My grumpy demeanor made it hard to encouragingly motivate Asaka, and I mostly spoke with negativity towards her. Asaka wanted to take an extended break, but we were in a barren zone completely exposed to the wind and flying shards of ice. I explained to Asaka that we couldn’t rest in such an inhospitable place, and after that it was like a light switch went on. She overcame her pain and we pushed on continuously to 13,600 feet where the boot track turned to climber’s right once again right below a giant bergschrund. The group which passed us earlier tried to climb direct from here but failed. They instructed us to head west, which I already planned on doing. I wanted to continue to the saddle between Mt Rainier and Liberty Cap, but Asaka wanted her rest. The wind here was still pretty bad, but it was a little better than what we had been subject to for the last thousand feet. We sat below a giant serac, as Guillermo and I nervously waited for Asaka’s energy levels to rise.

Once ready, we hiked parallel to the bergschrund for a quarter mile before climbing once more to the saddle between Mt Rainier and Liberty Cap. The final climb now appeared in front of us, and we knew the summit was less than a thousand feet above us. I wanted to take it in and enjoy the final climb but the wind kept pounding us. We made our way to the giant moguls on the northern face of Mt Rainier.

Progress was slow, but I was starting to feel confidence which I was lacking over the past thousand feet. It was later in the morning than I had planned for, but we were still early enough. The majority of the other summit parties were still behind us. I picked my own track as we inched our way up the last of the snow. We approached a barren pile of rocks and soon after met with Team 1 again. They assured us we were very close to the summit, and all we had to do was climb to the top of the dirt. At the edge of the snow we untied and walked up the trail along the crater rim.

I was beginning to feel the effects of the altitude at this point. I really struggled to make it up those last hundred feet. I walked to the top of a big pile of snow which my GPS listed as the summit. Guillermo was stoked.

To the northwest was Liberty Cap.

To the northeast was Asaka hiking along the crater rim.

To the southeast was the crater.

To the south was Mt Adams.

To the southwest was Mt St Helens.

I then walked to the barren piece of rock 400 feet south along the crater rim just in case it was higher, which was no easy task in my withered condition. I could barely make out Mt Hood between Mt Adams and Mt Saint Helens.

I then walked back to the others. I thought about all the climbers who claim Mt Rainier after only making it to the summit crater and not visiting the true summit. I sat down on the snow out of the wind and had a snack. I didn’t feel as accomplished as I expected. My feeling was more of relief. I didn’t fail a mountain that thousands of people climb. Pride came a few days afterwards.

Guillermo was really insistent on taking a summit selfie, to which I obliged. I felt miserable, but put on my smiley face.

I followed suit with Asaka, who also felt miserable. She also put on her smiley face for at least two seconds, which was enough time for our photo.

Team 2 was now ready to get down. There aren’t much worse feelings than being cold and tired. As we walked back to our rope, I noticed fumaroles seeping out of the crust.

Other groups began to emerge as we walked down. I dismissed at the idea of climbing Liberty Cap, which I so wanted to do before the trip.

We tied back into the rope and began the march down. At first I wanted Guillermo to take the lead on the descent, however he didn’t feel comfortable with the route finding, so I stayed in front. We moved quickly past the serac, taking a couple quick photos before clearing the danger zone.

We were just as slow climbing down as we were climbing up. At one point Asaka stumbled and Guillermo and I instinctively dropped to the self arrest position. She didn’t end up going anywhere, but I was glad Guillermo and I were able to stay mentally focused so late into the hike.

Guillermo’s crampon problems continued and after stopping several times to readjust, one of the crampons finally broke for good. Descending with one crampons seemed dangerous, so I parked my butt on the ice and waited for Guillermo to come up with a solution. Several parties began to pass us and I became even more grouchy. A guide leading some clients had some spare zip ties on him and gave them to Guillermo. This missing ingredient allowed Guillermo to fashion a temporary fix for his crampon.

By this time we had fallen behind most of the remaining parties on the mountain. I wasn’t that worried about falling into a hidden crevasse with the higher afternoon temperatures. The route was well defined and the snow conditions were solid.

The sketchiest part of the descent was an icy section above a crevasse. We took our time and made it across without incident.

Once back on the Emmons Glacier, we took off our crampons and plunged stepped down towards camp. This was a new technique for Guillermo, and something that he will pick up with more experience. Guillermo commented that he couldn’t believe people with no mountaineering experience climb this peak. I responded saying, “Like yourself?” He did not like that comment, but he had it coming after all the equipment stops he made us take. My grumpiness would not subside without a nap, so the longer we stayed out on the mountain, the more impatient and callous I would become.

I stared in awe at the endless Emmons Glacier, the largest in the lower 48.

It was temping to unrope and jog down to camp, however there was still crevasse danger. There were several skiers enjoying the good corn. I would be afraid to ski into a gaping crevasse.

We made it back to camp safe and sound. I undressed and climbed into my sleeping bag. It was time for a well deserved nap. I wondered how much faster we would have been if Guillermo didn’t have so many mechanical problems, however all that is in the past. I woke up later that afternoon and touched base with Team 2, whom I hadn’t seen since early that morning. Jake tried to convince everyone to head out that night, but my legs were too shot to hike down 5,000 ft. If he would have reminded me that most of that could have been a glissade down the Inter Glacier then I might have agreed, however that’s the fault of the seller for not mentioning it.

The next morning we were up at first light. I was more inclined to sleep in but the group understandably wanted to get back to comfort. I could not dig up and untie the dead man anchors for the life of me, which lead to anger, hate and suffering. Jared was smart and dug out his anchors the night before. Guillermo and Jared were able to help get my ass out of the jackpot, and we were off.

We decided not to rope up for the last segment of the Emmons Glacier and our crossing went by without incident.

We climbed up the dirt to the top of the spur, which was the last uphill segment of the trip.

Rather than glissade, we decided to carefully walk down the Inter Glacier until passing the crevasses we noticed on our ascent.

We were moving at a decent pace until Guillermo realized he dropped his jacket with his phone in his pocket. I waited for him to climb up and get it, making sure to point out the crevasses to him on his walk down.

It was a bit icy, but once we got low enough, Asaka and I glissaded down most of the Inter Glacier.

We waited for Guillermo but he didn’t want to glissade for some reason. We watched him drop his crampons, then his helmet, until we got tired of waiting. Rather than hike to the trail, we opted to stay on the snow field as long as we could.

We crossed back over the creek to Glacier Basin where I retrieved our boots and waited on a rock. We found ourselves waiting for Guillermo once again until I spotted him wandering through the forest. He was looking for his boots in the wrong place, but I got his attention and Team 2 was reunited once more. Jared and Tynan were waiting for us at the Glacier Basin Camp just inside the forest, while Jake had went ahead to the car. It felt amazing to walk in my train runners once again.

We passed by other groups of climbers who would have worse weather than we did over the next few days. I was glad to be on the way out.

We celebrated with some beer and snacks at the vehicles. I was relieved that everything came together, and happy that I have such a great group of people to hike with.

Photo Credit to Tynan Ramm-Granberg and Jared Bowman.

[sally-annesstories]

Day 17 - Tulum to Playa del Carmen, Mexico

Final G adventures travel day (round one).

1. A 7am start this morning as we were out the door at 8am to get to the Tulum ruins. I’ve been to a lot of ruins in the past few weeks (Chinchen Itza only the day before) so I was feeling a bit ‘ruined’ at the prospect of more. Thing with a tour though is you sign up at the outset. The ruins were nice because they were by the ocean versus in the jungle which is what all the other ones were for me. There was a cute wee house overlooking the sea. At 32 degrees and high humidity though, it’s feeling like 40 degrees and so hot. There was no real shade or air at the ruins. I ended up sitting on the cliff to the beach access for quite a bit of the time. We had about an hour and a half to explore but the ruins just weren’t big enough to need that time (and I didn’t have the right energy levels for that amount of exploring). After what felt like forever I was chilling outside the ruins before heading to the meeting spot and hopping in the van.

2. Once arriving in playa I realised where we are staying is really nice. It had mixed reviews online so I decided to stay somewhere different tomorrow night. Mild regrets when I saw the swimming pool! We couldn’t check into our room till 3pm so Kristin, Julia and I went for a wander. It felt like tourist town. Everywhere you walk someone is yelling at you to buy something or other. A lot shows both the price in pesos as well as USD so you know who it’s aimed at ! The beach was similar to Tulum in that it was covered in seaweed. While there was probably less of it, the smell was horrendous. I actually can’t even describe how bad it was. I was quite happy when we hit up the road again. We then made our way to a random spot for lunch. I am trying to try all the Mexican dishes so while I have never had a chimichanga at home it was time to have one here! Was pretty good. Meat and cheese deep fried so can’t complain. Felt very heavy afterwards!

3. Back to the pool at the hostel! I know I should probably be exploring but after moving so much this past week and these raging temperatures the water was calling! The smell at the beach made that a no-go so pool time it was. The water is cooler than that at the Tulum pool and to be honest it’s just quite fancy looking. A wee kidney shaped lagoon (perhaps Amanda will pick up that reference, if she’s reading). Quite a few floaties plus a volley ball net over the shallow end. Might need to chat to dad about popping one in for summer when I’m around! The rest of the day was very very lazy smashing swimming and great. Pretty much my ideal way to spend an afternoon!

4. Our final dinner was included as part of the ‘g for good’ stuff g-adventures does, giving back to the community. We caught a van out of the tourist zone at the beach and into the suburbs. A man then met us and walked us around the street showing the street are and how he was trying to help the kids. There were some pretty impressive murals. Would give the laneways in Melbourne a run for their money. Then we went to the restaurant where he spoke a bit longer before we sat down for our meal. It was three courses. The first a potato, broccoli and other vegetable soup. It was amazing! I think my body might’ve been craving some solid vege goodness. I’ve likely been lacking veges and fruit since getting here as it’s actually semi tricky to get at the later meals of the day and the wee dairies (Oxxos) typically don’t sell them. I’ve also prioritised trying everything Mexican ! Following this I had vegetarian noodles. Not the most Mexican thing I’ve ever had but again loaded with vegetables, covered in sesame seeds and perfection. More like something from South East Asia. The dessert, oh mexico I love you, ice cream with some sort of fried churro with bananas. Heaven in a wee bowl. Aside from food dinner was good! Got to sit with our wee crew and chat (or not chat and just chilled at parts as we were all a lot tired!). The others were reminiscing about their week here or tackling the excessential questions in life.

5. The final ride back! Salvador said thanks to everyone and wished everyone the best on their following journeys. The majority had flights in the next 24 hours, about 4 within the week and I’m the only one doing a long stint. When it comes to doing a tour I think the perk and the con is kind of the same (everything is done for you!). The perk of this is that it helps eliminate some of the admin. This is why I took the tour, my last minute decision to leave my job and travel the world meant I didn’t have time for language school before I left. The tour meant that this wasn’t a hindrance in getting around (even better was making friends with people who are fluent!). The thing I don’t like from a tour is you can miss out on truely exploring and understanding a place. It’s for this reason I sometimes stick out of things or will avoid asking for help. From my own approach it was then slightly amusing to me that as soon as Salvador said thanks to everyone, he had so many questions from people about how to leave to the airport or elsewhere. I guess in my mind you’d ask sooner or figure it out yourself (the later being my go to). It seemed like a lot of admin was happening when we got back to hostel for this reason. Julia, Kristin and I went and sat around at the pool as it was cooler with a mild breeze compared to the outdoor bar with no airflow. Chatting away we’d had such a good fortnight. Eventually we went and joined the group saying the goodbyes and all that jazz. Finally time to head to bed! Kristin was off at 6am, while Julia and Ed were the afternoon and Diamond/Naomi somewhere midday. Super decent crew to start the trip off with! Same as for Jon/Sophia/Chris who left in Oaxaca. Crazy so much done in this time. Excited for what the next portion holds.

Tulum ruins / Playa del Carmen pool time / gals / final dinner soup / team photos from trip

[douxreviews]

American Gods - ‘A Murder of Gods’ Review

"That’s some profound knowledge for you right there. Wrapped up in a quaint sexual metaphor."

American Gods takes a quick side trip to alt-right paradise, and makes some new friends along the way.

One of the things most widely known about this episode among people who care in any way about such things is that everything we see this week is a brand new creation on the part of the series and has nothing at all to do with the novel. Which is good, really. That's the main virtue of doing a multi-season adaptation of a novel like this; it gives them the opportunity to really explore the corners of the universe that they're showing us in a way that a novel really can't.

Fortunately, they really take the opportunity and run with it, giving us a highly enjoyable episode while really digging into the ramifications of a couple things that were thrown out there previously. Most notably, last week we saw Mr. Wednesday being offered the opportunity to stop fighting and allow Mr. World to assimilate him into the new order of things. Specifically, as a weapons satellite over the middle east, which is a fair enough example of the sort of thing that is worshiped by a certain striation of humanity.

Wednesday turned down the offer in favor of remaining himself and fighting the new gods, which is for the best since that's sort of the plot of the whole series. But this week we get to see what happens to an old god who does agree to the offer. And so we stop off in Vulcan, Virginia, where every store welcomes open carry sidearms and fascist style armbands are all the rage.

Vulcan, for those of you who were popular as children and therefore might not have spent every second obsessively studying these things, was the Roman god of fire. In the episode they identify him as the god of the Volcano, which is close enough, if not strictly accurate enough for the more pedantic of us. He was the rough equivalent of Hephaestus in the Greek pantheon, but I feel obligated to point out that the whole metalwork thing was more Hephaestus' gig than Vulcan's. Which kind of makes me wish they'd gone with the Greek version of this particular god rather than the Roman, but I suppose they wanted to use the less difficult name. Plus the 'V' made a nice logo for his company.

When your whole show premise is based around addressing the idea of new gods based on things that modern American's actually worship, guns and ammunition has to be pretty close to the top of the list. Even so, it's quite brave for the show to be as up front about it as they are here. This is a town, and by proxy a country, that openly worships their guns. They all carry them, a volcano on every hip, as Vulcan says. The 'firearms as a way to make yourself feel powerful' theme is in no way subtext. It's the text. The good people of Vulcan only have to turn a blind eye to the occasional factory manager 'falling' into the smelting pots and they get to keep their nice, shiny guns.

I have to say, Vulcan transitioning from the volcano to the bullet factory works really well. The show spells it out, in a nice turn of phrase; he's gone from fire to firepower. They're showing us what happens to Gods who accept the offer Wednesday turned down last week, and what we see having happened here is a bloated, smug, king of his own little hill, openly rubbing Wednesday's nose in his own comfort. His taunting of Shadow with the front yard lynching tree, is just one detail in the sub-textually hostile dynamic between Wednesday and Vulcan.

But the idea of what happens to a god who assimilates isn't the only thing we're being shown here. We're also being shown what happens to an old god who turns down Mr. Wednesday's offer. That's going to come up again the next time he reaches out to an old friend, because now we know what the implicit threat is. That's a nice structural note for the season to build on later. Vulcan turned Wednesday down, so Wednesday decapitated him and vowed to tell everyone that Vulcan had decided to betray his new friends and so the new gods killed him. To say nothing of his urinating into the foundry. Seriously, let's not say anything about that.

Meanwhile, in the other plotline, Mad Sweeney, Laura, and Salim have ended up together on a road trip to Kentucky, by way of Indiana. Honestly, I could watch these three all day long. The combination of Laura and Sweeney trying to out-cynic one another contrasted with Salim's endearing sweet positivity is just a winning formula. One thing that this show doesn't get enough credit for is the way the characters interact with one another. Pleasingly, it makes perfect logistic sense why they're together despite not liking one another particularly. Sweeney very kindly even spells it out for us:  He wants his coin. The only way Laura will give it to him is by getting her resurrected properly, and it so happens he 'knows a guy who knows a guy.' They need a car to get there, and Salim has one, but Salim is searching for the Jinn. Well, it so happens that Sweeney knows how to find him and will do so in exchange for a lift. Perfectly set up, they're all doing what they're doing out of self interest, and that's a solid way to establish your mismatched buddy road trip.

Lastly, it's worth mentioning the opening sequence. We've seen several 'Coming to America' vignettes in the past, but they've all been in a comfortable past setting where we can view them as history. By setting this weeks segment as immigrants crossing from Mexico illegally, only to be greeted with gunfire from sinister shadowed 'border patrollers', the show is forcing the viewers to confront some very uncomfortable thoughts about what coming to America means. The sequence is made even bolder in the way it unabashedly frames the immigrants as the heroes and the border patrol as the villains, right down to Mexican Jesus assisting the immigrants and getting shot by the patrol for his efforts.

Seriously. A TV show just showed American border agents, unofficial or otherwise - it's not really clear, shoot and kill Jesus. That's... well, brave doesn't seem to even cover it.

Quotes:

Shadow: "Who are you?" Wednesday: "If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me."

Laura: "Do you have a car?" Sweeney: "Yes. I do." Laura: "Well Chop-chop, ginger minge. Let’s go."

Laura: "Did you just name drop Jesus Christ like you know a guy who knows a guy?"

Wednesday: "There’s always been a god shaped hole in Man’s head. Trees were the first to fill it."

Wednesday: "Religion inspires in those who fear nothing fear of the gods. And using that fear requires a certain element of f**ked up."

Salim: "You are not a leprechaun?" Sweeney: "Oh, she’s a lepre-c**t" Laura: "(after smashing his face in the glass) If I hear that word pass your lips one more time I’m gonna peel them off your gums."

Salim: "I never met Ibrahim bin Irem. I imagine he was given a new life, just as I was. My name is Salim. Or, it was Salim. I do not know what my name is now."

Bits and Pieces:

-- So, rapture and fear. Wednesday seems to be telling us that Gods get their energy from fear and that sacrifice is essentially food to them. That's an interesting differentiation, because it makes a distinction between thought and action. I'll be interested to see if they expand on that.

-- Vulcan says that people like to be watched and that they don't do evil while being observed. That's very Jeremy Bentham of him. There's an interesting Doctor Who connection there, if you feel like doing the research. Key word to look up being 'panopticon'.

-- Sweeney uses the phrase 'murder of Gods' as the group singular noun, like a pack of wolves, a murder of crows, or a romp of otters.

-- Yes, the group singular for otters is a 'romp'. I've been waiting to work that into conversation for years.

-- Wednesday is desperately trying to convince Shadow to let go of Laura, including implying that she only came to see him to let him go and lying to him about knowing about her presence there in the first place. I wonder why he's so desperate to get rid of her.

-- There was a really nice shot transition from Mexican Jesus forming a golden halo to confirm who he was, and then that halo turning out to be the headlights of the border patrol trucks. Really nicely framed.

-- Shadow's being infected by the bit of 'tree-thing' was kind of a waste of episode space, to the extent that I forgot to even mention it last episode. It did, however, allow Wednesday to tell us about Mr. Wood, one of the first Gods, which introduced the concept of gods evolving and changing to adapt to changes in the world, which thematically set up Vulcan's situation. SO it wasn't a total waste.

-- The shot of the 'World's Greatest Boss' mug dissolving in the molten metal made me laugh out load.

-- That is, in actual fact, what happens when you fire bullets into the air like that. Don't fire bullets into the air like that. It's a dumb-ass thing to do.

-- As I mentioned in a previous Punisher review, Corbin Bernsen really does a great 'villain'. It's a shame he lost his head.

-- It's a little inexplicable however why Vulcan actually made that sword for Wednesday. It seemed pretty clear that they were both already planning to betray one another, so why actually give him a powerful weapon like that?

A really great character piece, as well as an exciting advancement toward the season one finale. Can't wait to get to Kentucky.

Three and a half out of four shell casings.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water

[egosamsara-blog]

march 16, 2017

today marks the day my cousin, nessie russell, would have been 21.

in another world i’m sure i’d tease her about how i’d just be counting down the days until september 1st so that i would be 2 years older than her again and make a corny ass joke about how we could now drink in a bar together.

i have been dreaming of this day since i turned 21 – 1.5 years ago. not because i like drinking, but because finally nessie and i were going to be “official adults” in the eyes of american society. i didn’t see her much the last couple years of her life so this is the thought i would fall asleep with at night. always some “next” destination to get to. the present was never good enough for either of us it seemed.

but i didn’t wait until i was 21 to start getting fucked up on legal drugs. i found them in a medicine cabinet in my grandfather’s house in upstate new york when i was 16. i didn’t know much about oxycontin other than it was a pill that got you high, and thank god for that because the cannabis i was smoking at boarding school kept getting me pulled out of class and put on work project. it stank too much, but this pill – i could crush it up and put it in water and sip it all day long. no need to go to the liquor store. and i had a lot of them. but then i had none of them. and then i needed them.

and then i needed them for 4 more years. arrests, running away, being put in mental hospitals, self harm…. i have traveled through at least 20 states all the way up to canada and down to mexico. i could have bought a house, a boat, and a comfortable life with the money i blew on roxicodone and dialudid. 

i wasn’t finished; i kept running in circles for 2 more years. crushing up pills didn’t do the trick anymore, i needed a spoon and an endless slideshow of public bathrooms.

i honestly didn’t want to stop. at this point every shot of white china was mixed with the prayer of “i hope this is too much”, a spike of guilt, and a chuckle of remorse. and fuck pills, they were too expensive by now.

i was not alone. when i was 17 my high school in connecticut was spilling over with every single type of pill. every person i talked to had a similar story to mine. we were scribbling furiously away, afraid that if we didn’t live fast enough we wouldn’t be worth remembering. we all graduated from pills to heroin. some forgot what happened in high school but i remember. 

i’ve always remembered everything. that’s why i wanted to escape – i saw how drugs were infecting my generation and it scared me shitless. nessie saw it too. she also saw something else i didn’t see until she passed.

nessie loved herself. she saw a light within herself and held onto it as tightly as she could, even through her addiction. i always admired that in her and i wanted it as well. she was so beautiful, the way she’d move through a room with no idea that everyone was staring at her. she was always glowing.

but i guess people, places, and things stole that away from her. by the end of her addiction she wrote to me, “i never thought it could get this bad for me… i thought i was different.” she died several weeks later. 

she had so much beauty in her life, but opiates are a dark drug. they put one in the womb of bliss – warm and floating free, feeling the dopamine and serotonin reverberating through your brain. then when they leave they put you on a metal dissection tray, pin you down, and rip you open from head to toe. one has no choice of what comes spilling out.

this is an hourly struggle for heroin addicts. sometimes less than that. sometimes i couldn’t refill the syringe fast enough. it depended on the way my brain felt that day. why would we do this to ourselves, you ask? who wouldn’t be addicted to euphoria? how many of you curl up in a warm fuzzy blanket and watch netflix for 10 straight hours with the blinds closed and a plate of microwaveable food next to you? a glass of wine? a xanax? 

now… how many of you turn another cheek at someone who gets their kick from shooting up heroin? is it not the same? aren’t we all trying to escape somehow?

in 2006 Purdue released time-release oxycontin. one could easily take the time release coating off, which became extremely trendy for opiate addicts to do. by 2012 people i knew and loved were starting to die.

Brendan Shay – he made me laugh for 20 straight minutes once when he drove me from my house to a party with a car full of friends.

Christopher Wells – a talented musician who i did theater with… he would play the piano or guitar and sing during play practice. i would sit on the bench or lay down and listen for hours.

George Hammond – one of the brightest smiles in my memory. every time i looked at him he made me smile, no matter my mood. ask anyone they would tell you the same. 

Brad Allen – he used to play the guitar and keyboard for whoever would listen. always cracking a smile; we called him ‘happy brad’ for a reason.

Caitlin Pieretti – she loved so deeply and fully and never missed a chance to make your day better. even if you were bugging out she had a joke to crack to even out the vibe.

Brent Rodney – one of the most giving men i’ve ever met. if he didn’t have a dime he’d give you his time. i loved him so much from the day i met him to the day he died.

Shawn Cagle – he didn’t care how young me and my friends were, he and Brent were always so kind.

Jackson Conroy – i was in the same church as him growing up; vacation bible school, youth group, ski trips. his family makes beautiful music to this day.

Bruno, Vinny, Dre, Harold …

these friends i have listed are few of the many. their ages ranged from 19-26. i got worn out trying to think of all of them. i can only write so many obituaries in one essay. what all these people have in common is that pharmaceuticals didn’t work for them. when an addict goes into a detox, they are put on maintenance meds such as suboxone or methadone so that they don’t get sick from the lack opiates in their system; then they’re loaded up with xanax so they don’t shake; anti-depressant so their brains never feel normal again; sleep meds so they can stop thinking at night when the ideas are most important.

usually getting to a detox facility is another journey within itself. many heroin addicts in america are in the north east, so they have a white powder heroin often cut with pharmaceutical grade fentanyl. fentanyl is more potent that street heroin by 1:50 grains but looks the same. that means 1 grain of fentanyl is as powerful as 50 grains of heroin. this makes getting the dosage right very dangerous, and many addicts aren’t aware of this. many are aware of this and mess with it anyway. the point is, heroin overdoses are common. a drug called narcan is used to bring addicts back to life.

Purdue produces suboxone and narcan. Janssen Pharmaceutica produces fentanyl, a toe to the leg of Johnson and Johnson who’s hip is…. guess who? Purdue.

let’s imagine none of this matters and this was a simple health epidemic. let’s imagine this was all political and no emotion was set in, let’s imagine that thousands on thousands of young lives were not stolen and thrown away. let’s imagine that a whole generation isn’t being looked at like scum of the earth for picking up some medicine that we thought was safe to take. 

did you know in america opiates and amphetamines are considered okay to prescribe to an 11 year old? i was prescribed benzos when i was 15. did you know that the human brain develops way up into your 20s? did you know that the human brain is very sensitive to foreign chemicals? i’m sure you did… now why the fuck didn’t the doctors?

when trump released his health care reform, trumpcare 2017, he gave those struggling with mental health a special shout out. 1.3 million young americans will lose coverage under trumpcare. trump wants to take out a requirement in the ACA that gives coverage to those struggling with mental health issues. you don’t even have to like opioids… if you are depressed you have a “pre-existing condition”.

so even if you hate politics, now is the time to care about them. because if we, the future generations of america, do not stand up and fight now – who will be here to do it later?