#til I see a book she wrote in a store somewhere it something

[m-has-a-blog]

So like. She says she wants to rebuild our creative partnership. Texts me memes for a couple weeks. Does a ‘I’ll always be there for you’ thing ahead of the election. Talks to me election night when u ask if she’s okay. And then NEVER CONTACTS ME AGAIN. Not even a thumbs up emoji to indicate she’s aware I got my stuff. If she’s okay: what the hell IS that. If she’s not: her parents are fucking awful for not telling me.

[spencerreidslove]

Spencer and Maggie

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written as a celebration for 500 followers, but I suck at timelines, so let’s pretend I planned it for 600. This is a little side story of the first fic I wrote that ever got me followers: Matchmaker! This takes place 10 years after the first 3 parts I wrote.

Matchmaker Letters Trick or Treat

————

“Whatcha thinking about?” Spencer asked.

You were looking at your husband of 6 years and smiling.

“Nothing.” You said.

You were thinking about how lovely it had been since you met Spencer. That fateful day when he was late to pick up his daughter (who was also yours now) was one of the best days of your life.

You smiled and snuggled in closer to Spencer’s side. You two were sitting on the couch, watching a nature documentary that Spencer had picked out. It was getting late though, and soon you would probably head off to bed.

From somewhere above you, you heard a thump.

“Shouldn’t Maggie be asleep by now? She has school tomorrow.” You said.

“Maybe she just knocked something over.” Spencer said. But he stood up anyway, going over to the stairs. Even if Maggie had just knocked something over, years of working in the FBI had made Spencer extra cautious.

You followed behind Spencer, watching as he gently knocked on Maggie’s door before pushing it open.

You could see him stiffen, and then turn on the light. He relaxed, ever so slightly, and then cleared his throat.

“Margaret Morgan Reid where do you think you’re going?” Spencer asked.

You moved so you were behind him, and you could see Maggie with one foot out of her bedroom window. She had clearly been reaching for the tree that was right next to her window, presumably so she could sneak out.

“Um...” Maggie said.

“Other foot, back in the house. Now.” Spencer said.

Maggie slid her other foot back in the house, and sheepishly folded her hands in front of her.

Now that you could clearly see the room, you saw that the thump had come from Maggie shoving her desk over and a few books falling off of it.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing?” Spencer asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Maggie looked up from the spot she was looking at on the floor, and it really hit you how similar she looked to her father.

Now 16, Maggie had clearly taken after Spencer, with his eyes and dark, unruly hair. She was also tall and was very smart for her age.

“I was just checking out this noise I heard outside.” Maggie said, biting the inside of her cheek. That was the thing about Maggie, she was a horrible liar and you could always tell when she was lying.

Spencer tiltited his head, showing that he didn’t believe her.

“Fine.” Maggie said, sighing. “I was going out because there’s this party that this guy is hosting, and I knew that you would never let me go.”

“Because you have school tomorrow.” You said.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You guys never let me do anything though!” She said.

“That’s not true-“

You were cut off my Maggie groaning.

“Yes it is! Last week when I told you about Lilith’s party you wouldn’t let me go. I asked to sleep over at April’s house you said it was too far away. When I asked about Max’s birthday dinner you said you didn’t like him and wouldn’t let me go!” Maggie said.

To be fair, you had only said no to two of those things. Spencer was very protective of Maggie, and while you were fine letting her go to a dinner with Max, Spencer said no.

“I just want you to be safe.” Spencer said.

“I know, I know, you see all these horrible things and you don’t want me to end up on that screen, but I’m 16 not 5 and no one’s going to be friends with me if I can never do anything!” Maggie said.

You glanced at the clock on Maggie’s wall and cut Spencer off before he could say anything else.

“It’s late and we all have places to be in the morning, can we please talk about this tomorrow?” You said.

Both of them agreed, but before you could leave Maggie in her room, Spencer walked over to her window and closed it, and placed a few heavy books along the windowsill.

“Really, Dad?” Maggie asked.

“Yes. Now go to bed.” He said.

You and Spencer left Maggie’s room and went fown the hall to your bedroom.

-

The next morning, you were standing at the kitchen island, eating some cereal when Maggie came down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Where’s Dad?” She asked.

“He got called out on a case early this morning.” You said.

Maggie frowned and sat down at the island, and you pushed her favorite cereal twoards her.

“About last night...” Maggie started.

“Don’t worry about it. I get it, you know it was a million years ago but I was once a teenage girl. I’ll talk to Spencer about letting you do more things.” You said.

Maggie sighed but smiled a little.

“C’mon eat. I have to drop you off before I go wrangle a bunch of 6 year olds.” You said.

-

You were finishing grading some spelling quizzes after school when your phone rang.

“Mrs. Reid?” A voice on the other line asked.

You sat up straighter. Any time Spencer went out you were afraid of a call like this. But it didn’t sound like any of his coworkers, and you know Penelope would’ve called you right away.

“Yes.” You said nervously.

“I’m calling in regards to your daughter, Margaret.” The voice said.

You let out your breath a little. “What about her?” You asked. Normally, she would’ve ridden the bus home and been there when you got home.

“This afternoon she received a detention for swearing at a teacher and fellow student. You are on her contact sheet and you need to come pick her up.” The voice said.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” You said. You grabbed your things, utterly confused at the situation. Maggie was a sweet girl and her swearing at a teacher and classmate was way out of line for her.

When you got to the high school, you went inside and waited for Maggie. When she saw you were waiting for her, she seemed to darken even more.

“Maggie.” You said.

She ignored you and didn’t say anything til you were pulling into the driveway.

“Does Dad know I got a detention?” Maggie asked.

“I haven’t had a chance to call him.” You said. Maggie seemed even more upset by this and as soon as you got inside, she went up to her room and closed the door.

Something was definitely going on.

You figured you had to call Spencer.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Spencer answered the call on the second ring.

“Nothing. Well...it’s about Maggie.” You said.

“Is she ok?” Spencer asked.

“She got a detention today.” You said.

“What? What did she do?”

“There may have been some...choice words at a teacher and classmate.”

“What did she say.”

“Something along the lines of ‘You’re a fucking bitch’ to the teacher and ‘You goddamn asshole’ to the classmate.”

Spencer sighed over the line. “Did Maggie day why she said those things?”

“No. She’s barley said 2 words to me. Something’s definitely wrong.”

“I might be home tonight, if all goes well. Please figure out what’s wrong.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.” Spencer said.

After your goodbyes you made your way up to Maggie’s room and gently knocked on the door before entering.

She was curled up on her bed, holding Lily, her favorite stuffed bunny from childhood she never went anywhere without.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked, sitting at the end of her bed and gently rubbing her leg.

“I want to talk to Dad about it, but he’s never here.” Maggie quietly mumbled.

“You know that’s just how his job works. But you can always call him.” You said.

Maggie rolled over so she was facing you.

“It’s not the same.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You asked.

Maggie sighed and sat up. “I like talking with you, I really do, but I want to talk to Dad. Last week when he was on that case in Vermont I called him and he hung up on me mid story because something I said reminded him about some old book that could be a clue or something.”

You sighed, and wrapped your arms around Maggie.

“I just want to talk to him and have him listen without being interrupted.” She said.

“He said he might be home tonight. Whenever he gets home, we can talk about him taking some time off if that’s what you want.” You said.

Maggie nodded and you sat there, rubbing her back for a few minutes.

-

It was nearly 2 am when the front door quietly unlocked. Spencer clearly hadn’t seen the light on in the living room, and was a little startled when you called out to him.

“Y/N? What are you still doing up?” He asked, moving to sit beside you on the couch.

“I wanted to talk to you.” You said. “Do you know why Maggie got a detention today?”

“Yeah, you told me. She swore at a teacher.” Spencer said.

“Well, yes...but I think she got a detention so you would talk to her.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Why?”

“I talked to her earlier. She said that last week you hung up on her mid story because you thought of a clue. And that she just wants to talk to you.” You said.

Spencer sat there, doing nothing but staring into space.

You poked his back with your fingers and shoved him towards the stairs. “Go talk to your daughter, Spencer.” You said.

“Why would she still be awake at 2 am?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

You looked down and blushed. “We may or may not have finished a movie marathon a couple minutes ago...”

Spencer sighed, but you knew he was smiling. He headed twoards the stairs and you heard him knock on Maggie’s door.

-

The next afternoon, you were humming to yourself as you made lunch. When you had woken up, Spencer and Maggie weren’t there, but there was a note that said they would be back soon.

You heard the garage door open and a few minutes later, Maggie bounded into the kitchen, holding a bag from her favorite store and smiling brightly.

“Good day?” You asked.

Maggie came up to you and hugged you tightly. “Whatever you said to Dad, thank you.” She said.

You smiled and she ran up the stairs.

A few moments later, Spencer came into the room, holding two massive bags, all filled with books.

You smiled and grabbed one of the bags. “I see you took my advice.” You said.

“I did. Have I ever told you how smart you are?” Spencer asked.

“The Doctor Spencer Reid calling me smart? It must be a miracle.” You said.

Spencer put down his bag of books and wrapped his arms around you. “You are a miracle.” He said, leaning down to kiss you.

“You two are so gross.” Maggie said from down the hall.

Tags!(Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne @andreasworldisboring101 @itsmyblogandiwillblogifiwantto

[lamp-official]

I wrote a story, and its not my fault that it turned out this way. its about 1:45 in the morning, which isnt that early, but its early enough that my brain cells have migrated to somewhere else. sorry for the spelling errors, and let me know if you want me to write more of this story.

Once upon a fork, there was a batch of butter cooking in the oven. Naturally, all the flakes of candy wrappers were jealous of the butter. It sat in the finest pie tin of them all. Once it was done cooking, it got out of the oven to go harvest the fish. On its way to the basement of the dentist’s office, it saw a potato, who immediately stopped butter for a question. “If you have only one eye and you close it, is it blinking or winking?” Butter was immediately confused, but decided to continue this strange conversation. “Well, how many eyes do you have?” the potato looked him in the eyes and said “This week? the usual.” Butter shrugged off this strange conversation and continued on his way to the basement of the dentist’s office to harvest the fish.

    “So, how do I harvest fish?” butter thought to himself. “You know, I should really know how to do this, especially since this has been my job for the past 30 years.” the cat was at the berry bushes smelling the flowers, as all reptiles do in the winter. that was strange, because it was mid summer. butter was having a boring day, so he decided to join the cat in smelling the flowers. “SMELL.” said butter. “SMELL” eventually, butter decided two and a half hours of yelling the word “smell” at a flower was enough, and he got back to his walk to the job he still doesn’t know what to do.

    Once butter had arrived at his work, (for the first time in 30 years,) he pulled out the fish harvesting handbook, gifted to him by his boss who was too lazy to teach him how to do his job, or do anything but pay him and commit tax fraud. Butter opened the book. “A Guide to Fish Harvesting. Step one: Make sure you have the freshly killed fish all lined up on hooks on a string.” Butter looked at the actual fish, which were now rotted bones. “then take the first two layers of skin off of the fish” “already taken care of” butter thought to himself. “dig a hole in the concrete, and set the first two layers of skin on top of the pile of dug up concrete.” “well, I can scrape of the first two layers of bones off with a potato peeler if that helps” thought butter. “Now, remove the rain from the clouds, and water the empty hole you dug up. The more rain, the better the harvesting season is. for the people in animal crossing, not you, you dumbass.” “Might as well make something better for the people in animal crossing” thought butter as he lowered the clouds with his google assistant. “now that you have the clouds to water the holes, take the rest of the fish, and feed it to yoda.” “Whos yoda?” asks butter, who soon realizes who yoda is after looking at a pile of bones next to a dog sized water bowl and empty food bowl. “please note that yoda needs feeding daily.” “well its a bit late for that, says butter as he flips the page. he sees more steps, but decides to be done for the day “when you complete your task, record a 30 second video of what you did and submit it to me on google classroom. Dont worry, I will make sure NOT to mark it as “onion.” Butter looks at the mess that was made by the books instructions, and climbs the elevator to get back upstairs.

    The dentist looks at butter when he comes upstairs, and askes why he was there, to which butter responds with “shut the fuck up gordan ramsay, your giving me a head cavity. I work here.” “WELL I DONT LIKE YOUR LAMB CHOPS. NEGATIVE 300 OUT OF TEN GORDAN POINTS.” yells gordan. “now if you’ll excuse me, im off to do better things you panini head.” before butter completely walks out of the door, he turns back and asks gordan why he is a dentist if he always eats food and yells at it like a phsychotic judgemental butt head. like, its common sense that dentists dont eat, right? “well…” gordan is stumbling over his words. “well… well… I… I…” he is getting visibly nervous. “fine! you got me! i replace teeth with long term turnips! is that really so bad?” “it actually is” butter responds “you know teeth trafficking is highly illegal and tasty? I mean gross? I mean, I dont stay up til 3 AM watching random ass shit on youtube, YOU stay up til 3 AM watching random ass shit on youtube!” “That might be a personal problem” says gordan as he pushes out butter with a broom. “CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS!!!!!” yells butter as he is being kicked out.

    Butter is back outside, and he is melting on a frying pan that is on the sidewalk. he sees some eggs walk his way and he thought they were going to join the party, but they walked into a cake bakery instead. He didnt notice them every coming back out, but he assumed they just went out the back or something. After telling his google assistant to turn down the weather so he could become a solid again, he walked to the library and asked if the librarian knew where any good cooking books were. the librarian directed him to the exit, because eating was not tolerable there, as she was a dentist in her spare time. butter threw a box of marbles at the librarian, and told her that she should try eating thoses, and they help with digestion if she ever wanted to try eating. butter walked out of the library and told his google assistant to load up some headphones, but then butter was reminded that he doesnt know where his ears are or how he even hears things. he decides that he will go to get some dirt colored, textured and tasting gold, because he wanted to buy something nice and expensive.

    As butter walked into the jewelery store, he noticed a sign saying “no robux accepted, and if youre gonna rob us, dont take my jacket. My mom will be mad.” an employee immediatly went up to him and asked what he wanted. Butter explained what he wanted, but later changed his mind and asked if he could have a cookie. the cookies were only for good boys, and butter qualified. sort of. he got a cookie. he went out to the bus stop to wait for his bus. butter wanted to play minecraft while he was waiting for his bus, but he forgot his phones password. he decided that he would just guess. he clicked random numbers, and his phone said “good enough” and let him in. he played minecraft, and inside the game, he tamed a villager and taught it how to download and play minecraft easily with a google assistant. 

    Butter got off at his stop to go to the fish store. He thought he might as well try to figure out the rest of his job while he was figuring out what his job was. He bought some freshly killed fish, and returned to the basement of the dentists office, and greeted gordan ramsay by placing a pair of cards from cards against humanity on gordans face. he walked downstairs and repeated everything from before. he lined up the fish on a hook, took off the first two layers (still with a potato peeler) he dug the concrete, put the fish skin on the pile of concrete and put rain it the hole. he still decided that he could help the animal crossing community, so he activated his google assistant. He looked at yoda, and just piled up the rest of the fish on him. now, he was moving onto some new steps. “pour 1 cup of flour into the rain water” butter grabbed flour, and sprinkled it all over the water. he got a little on yoda, but thats ok. “chop the concrete so that it is done medium well. Speaking of medium, make sure to grab an extra medium bag of dog food for yoda.” butter gets a knife, and gets the extra medium bag of dog food and puts it in yoda’s bones. if gordon comes down here, he’d have quite the snack. dead fish, dog food, AND bones! “once you have done all of that, make some lemonade. hold a “lemonade stand.” essentially, what you need to is charge people 85 dollars to enter a drawing to win some lemonade. then, pretend that you have given someone the prize, but dont actually give anyone anything. go drink some lemonade, and go on a vacation, paid for by your boss.” butter looks at the book in disbelief, and talks to his boss for the first time in thirty years, and he confirms it. Butter is going on vacation! 

[strangenormal]

Cherry Bomb Part 5

Summary: You were Billy’s best friend when he lived in California. You lost touch not by choice. You never took the chance to share your feelings before he left. Will you take the chance now that you followed him all the way to Hawkins?

Billy x Reader/ POSSIBLE Steve x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters featured in strange things. Story will contain mature content as it progresses. Requester open & hope you enjoy. Image credit to original poster.

Warnings: Minor foul language

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4

Flashback Episode (Billy is 11 & y/n is 12)

You were walking home from school when you saw a little boy poking something on the ground with a stick. You walked up to investigate and saw he was ever so lightly poking a bird that appeared to be unable to fly.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” you asked as you lightly shoved the boy away from the bird.

“I was just seeing if he was still alive,” the boy responded.

You pulled a small towel out of your backpack you always had with you just in case. You lightly wrapped the bird in the towel before picking it up and starting to walk to your vet’s office. The little boy stood there looking at you like you were crazy. It took a moment to snap out of his thoughts before he started to rush after to follow you.

“Hey! Where you going with it?” He was walking beside you now.

“I’m taking it to the vet’s office. I bring little animals to him all the time. He mends them and then I take them home for them to heal.”

“Can I come?”

You stopped to actually look at the little boy standing before you. He had dirty blonde hair and REALLY blue eyes. They reminded you of the ocean on a summer’s day. He held himself in a somewhat timid way, but still looked you right in the eye. You placed your hand out in greeting.

“My name’s y/n. And yours is?”

He smiled slightly before he shook your hand in his, “Billy.”

“Can you keep a secret Billy?”

“Of course.”

“Then you can come.” You started walking again and he walked right along side you.

You both walked silently, the only words were spoken were you softly assuring the bird they’d be better in no time. You arrived at your vet’s office and he looked at you as if he was expecting you to show.

“And what do you have for me today y/n?” He asked as he stopped down to be more eye level with the bird.

“Billy found him and was poking him with a stick. So I brought it here. I think its wing is broken.”

“I was only poking it to see if it was still alive. My mom told me not to just touch wild birds, they carry diseases.” He replied somewhat defensively.

“I know that, why do you think I wrapped it in a towel? It’s also easier to carry him that way.”

“Ok y/n. No need to get on his case. I’ll take a look at him, reset his wing, and you can pick him up tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok Doc. Thanks!” You take Billy’s hand in yours and start to leave the clinic smiling with a wave behind you at the doctor.

It wasn’t until you made it back to the sidewalk that you noticed you were still handing Billy’s hand. The hand which he was staring at being held in a girl’s hand. He had never had a girl be so direct with him.

“Come on Billy, it’s not like I got cooties or something.”

***Flashforward (Billy is 13 and y/n is 14)***

You couldn’t believe she was gone. She was like a mother to you, an even better mother than your stepmom had been the past few years. You had no idea how Billy was going to get through this, but you knew you’d always be there for him. You found him hiding in your shed holding one of the rabbits you two had found and were taking care of.  You didn’t say anything, but sat next to your best friend. What do you say to someone who lost their mom? Hardly anything anyone said to you did any good at taking the pain away. It was your Aunt who just sat with you ‘til you cried and couldn’t cry anymore that helped the most. You placed an arm over Billy’s shoulder pulling him closer to you and the dam broke. You kissed his forehead and rubbed your other hand up and down his arm that held the rabbit to him. It wasn’t until the rabbit started to squirm from getting wet by his tears that you dared move and remove it back to its cage. As soon as you sat back down Billy wrapped himself around you instead and continued to cry.

“If I didn’t get hurt playing with guys…she wouldn’t have needed to pick me up…and she wouldn’t have…she wouldn’t have been hit-“

“Hey, Billy, stop.” You lifted his head to look at you. It was only then you saw the welt on his cheek and a bruise starting to form under his eye. “What happened Billy?” He only shook his head and buried it in the crook of your neck to sob even more. You held him tighter and closer, “This is NOT your fault Billy. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. Your mom loves- loves you and went to pick you up because of that. It’s not your fault that Al can’t drink at home and not drive. Don’t you dare put this on yourself Billy. I won’t let you.”

It was after the funeral that he started showing up with random bruises and was out of school more often. Days he didn’t show up at class, you’d sneak into his room. Sometimes he wouldn’t let you in, but you found one of his house windows never locked and would sneak in anyways despite his protests of telling you to just go home. You stayed best friends until he turned 16 and started dating a bunch of floozies.  He stopped spending time with you as often, but you two always kept your tradition of having every Sunday night to just the two of you. That’s when Bobby came into the picture. He was the star quarter back of your high school and yet somehow the “Dr. Doolittle” of the school caught his eye. Him and Billy did NOT get along and thus another wedge between the two of you. He tried telling you Bobby was a prick, that you deserved better, but you ignored him. He wasn’t dropping any floozy you said was no good, so why would you drop the guy who gave you all of his attention? Although you were about a year and a month apart in age, you always celebrated together and had a joint party. He was turning 17 and you 18 that you had a turning point in your relationship and not a very good one. Him and Bobby had gotten into a fight that broke up the party due to the cops being called. You were livid. It was your 18th birthday party and your boyfriend and best friends ruined it because they couldn’t play nice for even a few hours. You hadn’t even gotten to exchange your gifts yet and you really wanted to give him his.

You were about to go to bed when you heard a tapping on your window. You almost ignored it knowing exactly who it was and not really wanting to talk to him at the moment. You waited before turning towards your window only to have him be nowhere to be found. Before you could open your window, the doorbell rang. It was already midnight and you knew your step mom would be more than pissed at you for the intrusion on her “beauty sleep.” *gag*

She made it to the door before you in a huff in her nightgown starting to rant about a lady needing her beauty sleep only to stop once seeing Billy in your doorway. His eyes flicked to you down the hall and your step mom started to turn, but Billy was quick to lay out his charms. Telling her she didn’t need any sleep to be beautiful blah, blah, blah. She was dating it up like it was served on a silver platter.

“I really am sorry to intrude, but y/n left this evening before I could give her her gift and I’d really hate to break tradition. I’m sure a smart, beautiful woman such as yourself can understand and would be so kind as to let me see y/n for a brief moment.”

She was contemplating and he bit his lower lip as he tilted his head down to look at her through his lashes. You could see it worked as she became flustered and allowed him in.

“Only for you Billy. But don’t let her dad find out if else we’ll both in be in trouble and I’m not sure what kind of…punishment would be in store.”

You watched him try not to grimace at her antics as he thanked her and kissed her hand before beelining for you and your room.

He shut the door as soon as he got inside and braced himself against it as if afraid she’d bust through and have her way with him.

“Have you NO shame?” You stood in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest as you slightly glared at him.

He only smirked at you as he rolled his tongue across his lower lip. You noticed now he had a cut on his left cheek and a bruise starting to form from his fight with Bobby. You couldn’t help but reach for his face and his hand caught yours as he looked at you with absolute seriousness in his eyes.

“There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you y/n.“ 

And you felt a jerk in your insides at his remark and the look he was giving you. He started to close the distance between you, but you panicked and spoke up.

“You uh… said you had my present." 

He stopped and looked at you with a brief look of pain before he replaced it with a not so confident smirk on his face.

"Uh… yeah… yeah I do.” He took a small book out of his back pocket.

You opened it to find a photo album with photos of the 2 of you from over the years and some of the letters you wrote back and forth. You also found a small mix tape labeled “Remember Me”

“Remember Me?… You going somewhere?” You half laughed your question, but when he didn’t respond you looked up at him, he was looking down with a sudden interest in his shoes.

You moved closer to him and lifted his chin to look at you. He had a small trail of tears already finding your answer you only wrapped him in your arms as you yourself began to cry. What were going to do without your best friend being around anymore?

You waited a few minutes before parting slightly to look at him, “When do you leave?”

“Next week…”

“WHAT?! When were you going to tell me?! As you were driving off?! How long have you known?!”

“My dad announced the move a couple of days ago. He’s making us leave rather suddenly…”

“Does this have to do with Mrs. Jenkins getting suspicious of how your dad treats you? Or the suspension you got for your last fight? Or-“

“It doesn’t matter y/n. I’m not an adult, I have no say in the matter and we’re leaving.”

You sniffled a little and tugged at his hand for him to lay with you in your bed as you each laid facing each other.

“Where is he moving you to?”

“Hawkins, Indiana.”

“Fuck, that’s so far away.” You felt more tears wanting to burst, but tried to hold yourself together.

He pushed some hair behind your ear and cupped your face. “I know, but we can write to each other, call each other, and as soon as I turn 18, I’m coming back to Cali.”

You were worried he might not even survive that long. His dad was starting to get worse again and then Billy started taking it out on Max. You liked the young girl. You two would skateboard together and she loved helping you guys take care of all your little creatures. But now you wouldn’t be around for Billy to run to and have someone be a buffer between him and Max.

“Hey…” He broke you from your thoughts. “Everything will be ok. It’s only for a little while and then I’ll be back… Just don’t do anything stupid like get married before I do.”

You could only scoff at his ludicrous idea that you would get married. You did care for Bobby and enjoyed your time with him, but you didn’t feel that you loved him. Someone else got your heart racing faster, skin electrified with a single touch more than Bobby ever did. And now he was leaving. You leaned in and kissed his cheek and then his forehead.

“I won’t get married if you behave rebel.”

It was his turn to scoff at you.

“I have a gift for you too.” You rolled over to get his gift out of your nightstand.

You both stayed lying down as he opened the small box. He pulled the chain out and the pendant swung at the bottom of the loop.

His eyes instantly flushed with tears as he looked at it before looking at you and then back to the necklace as if not believing he really held it in his hands.

“Where did you get this?” He sat up as he took a closer look at the pendant.

You brushed away his tears with the pads of your thumbs. “I have my ways. Don’t worry about it. Your mom wanted you to have it and I wasn’t about to let that ass hole keep it away from you.” You turned around to grab something else out of your drawer. You placed an envelope in his hands and he dropped it recognizing the handwriting on the top. He stared at the envelope for a short time before picking it back up and holding it delicately.

“You don’t have to open it now. I just found it in the same place as the pendant.”

He stuffed the envelope in his coat pocket not ready to read it.

You gently took the necklace from his grip, “I put it on a more ‘manly’ chain for you. I know you have a reputation to protect. But I know that she wanted you to have this and it means a lot to you.” You placed the necklace around his neck and he stared down at it before looking back up at you with that indescribable appearance in his eyes from just little bit ago.

“Thank you y/n. This means so much to me. Thank you.”

You both fell asleep tucked together enjoying one of the last nights you’d have together.

The next week you were helping to pile some boxes into his car with as many as possible.

“I think that’s the last of it.” You shuffled over to him with your hands in your back pockets.

He pulled you into a hug and a placed a kiss on your head. He held you close for a few moments before he dug into his pocket.

“This is for you.” He held up the other dangling spear head earing to his set.

“But what if you lose the other one?”

“I’ll just have to be extra careful not to, now won’t I?” He smirked down at you before he moved your hair back taking out the stud you had in your ear to place his earing in the hole instead.

You fluffed your hair a little, but kept it behind your ear to show off the new accessory.

“What do you think?”

“Now you look like a punk girl.”

“Oh, because my style and hair didn’t already say that?”

“Eh, now it’s no question.”

“Whatever you say rebel.”

“Remember that princess.”

Both your faces fell at the realization this would be the last time you would see each other for awhile. Neither would admit could be the last time either, but you could never allow yourself to believe that. You both put each other into a tight embrace.

“You take care of yourself princess.”

“You too Rebel. I’ll miss you.”

You held onto him tighter not wanting to let go, but he had to break your embrace. He placed another lingering kiss to your forehead before rushing into his car and taking off after his dad’s car and the moving truck.

[alicescripts]

Part 2, Chapter 4: Chain

A strip mall off the turnpike in New Jersey. Looking for lunch. From where I stand by my truck, this could be anywhere.

We must have decided this, right, at some point? That we wanted it all to look the same? And I can understand that decision. We all like to feel somewhere familiar. Now we can have that feeling wherever we are. No matter the climate or geography, you come inside the chain and you are exactly where you were before, like there was a magic door to the city you feel most comfortable in. It’s a positive that can’t be denied.

But we have paid a price for this.

Sylvia laughed and pulled my arm. “I know,” she said. “You’re thinkin’ your big thoughts so you can have something profound to say on the radio later, but I am starvin’!” “Can’t a lady have thoughts in peace occasionally? I said. “A lady spends all her time on her ass thinkin’ and right now it’s lunchtime,” she said. “Ooh, burgers!”

In between a Chipotle and a Quiznos was a store front that twisted my guts. I tried to process what I was seeing. “Let’s eat there,” Sylvia said, already walking toward it.

The design of the place was as clean and interchangeable as any other restaurant in the strip mall. But there was the sign in the shape of a burger. The sign said, “PRAXIS”.

The inside was a simple counter and a couple tables with plastic chairs. The wall was papered in comic book covers, although I didn’t recognize any of the characters. “Tiptoe Woman”, one was called. Another called “The Incredible Man who Cries.” “I might get a chicken sandwich,” Sylvia said. “Is that weird, getting chicken at a burger place?”

I forgot how alone I was til I wasn’t anymore. Having Sylvia here has been nice. And maybe I feel guilty about that, because she’s still a teenager, and she should be living in a stable home, going to school and being a kid, not circling this country with me. But I’m not the one that murdered Sylvia’s mother and left her with the same obsession I have.

She came to me for a specific reason, but first I have routes I need to run, and she’s content to run them with me. Bay and Creek is unlikely to fire me, but I have been flat out ignoring delivery schedules and I think I need to actually drive a truck for work occasionally.

“What can I get you?” The guy behind the counter had thinning hair under a little paper cap. The cap said “PRAXIS”. “Uh, what’s good?” I said. “Burger’s OK.” I ordered a burger and Sylvia, after some vacillation, did the same. He wrote up the order on a slip and pushed it to the woman at the grill without looking at her. “Two burgers up in a moment!” she said. The man did not acknowledge this. “What’s your name?” said Sylvia. “Ramon,” he said. “And I’m Donna!” said the woman in the kitchen, as she slapped a fistful of ground meat on the flat top and smashed it with a spatula. “He won’t introduce me, he doesn’t talk to me.” “Why not?” I asked. “I’ll have burgers out to you in a moment,” Ramon said. “We’ve been running this business together for five years,” said Donna, “and he has never spoken to me.” “Is that true?” Sylvia asked Ramon. He scowled. “Our parents died,” Donna said. Ramon furiously cleaned the spotless counter with a rug. “They left us everything equally. Soon after their death, I sold their house, the house we grew up in. I didn’t have time to consult with him, and he hasn’t talked to me since. Order up!” Ramon carried them over. “Is it OK if I tell you something?” I asked. “Doubt I could stop you,” he said. “Someone hurt me, “ is aid, “betrayed me. And that has defined what my life has been for every second of every day after. And it has sucked. If I had any other choice I’d take it. if you have any other choice besides being defined by a feeling of betrayal, you should jump for it. jump for it like dry land to the drowned.” Ramon’s eyes softened. “You gotta forgive her some time, dude,” Sylvia said through a mouthful of burger. “This is really good, by the way.” [chewing noise]

He grunted, returning to the counter. The paper napkins all had the word “PRAXIS” on them. Sylvia took one and did a sketch of Ramon, holding a burger and giving a stone-faced thumbs up to the viewer. On our way out, she presented it to him. He said nothing as he accepted, but his lip twitched upwards. “Bye now!” said Donna from the kitchen. Ramon’s frown returned.

An hour later back on the road, I slapped the steering wheel, waking Sylvia up. “Christ, what?” she said. “Are we in danger?” “Ugh! I left my scarf at the burger place,” I said. [sighs] “Oh well. I guess that scarf belongs to them now.”

It’s hard to tell regions apart just by looking at the buildings now. A CVS is a CVS, a Starbucks is a Starbucks. I’m not here to moralize, I’m just telling you what it is to be a traveler now.

Every place is built like every place, and so the only thing that tells you that you’re moving is the nature that’s been allowed to stay.

As you head north, the trees shift from broad leafy canopies to the narrow spurs of conifers. And the mountains turn from big hills to great structures of rock, topped with vast slopes of untouched snow. Or , on another drive, the hills dot themselves away into nothing. And you realize you haven’t seen elevaton in hours, nor many trees, just a lot of grass and a lot of road. Or you leave behind a  wetter, greener climate, and you see the world around you fade from grass to kindling, to dirt and rocks and then, like a sign marking a border you didn’t know you were crossing, the first great cactus, harbinger of the waiting desert.

It’s up to nature to tell us we’re moving. Otherwise, each Kmart sign looks like each Kmart sign. Every Subway sandwich tastes the same.

A few days later, somewhere north of Madison, near Devil’s Lake. There was this big stretch of hotels with indoor water parks, for when the Wisconsin weather with the Wisconsin vacation. Near the hotel was a cluster of shopping centers, movie theaters, all the things you ned if your camping trip is forced indoors. We were scanning for somewhere to eat and Sylvia was of course the first one who saw it. “I guess they’re a chain,” she said. A burger-shaped sign. “PRAXIS”. “Mm, last one was good. Shall we?” Something in me was afraid, but something in me is always afraid, and I’ve gotten very good at quieting that part of me. So I led the way in.

“You forgot your scarf,” said Ramon. Donna waved at us from the kitchen. Sylvia and I froze, but Ramon was already bringing over my scarf, and Donna was indicating a table in the corner. “Wh- What are you doing here?” was the best I could manage. “Well, we hardly ever leave the business,” Donna said. “Lots to do,” Ramon said, folding up my scarf and putting it by me. “Same as last time?” “Uh, sure,” Sylvia said. “Weren’t you-“ She didn’t seem to know if this was a subject she wanted to look at too closely, but she went for it anyway. “Weren’t y’all in New Jersey last time we saw you?” Donna shrugged, splatting our patties on the grill. “We don’t get out much,” Ramon said, and then “Thanks,” said absently as Donna gave him the burgers. She stopped, hand still on one of the plates. “Did you just talk to me?” she said. “Well, like those two were saying,” he said not looking at her, “have to forgive sometime.” “Forgive?” Donna started laughing. “Oh ho ho honey, OK, I’m glad we’re talking now because we have some shit needs talking about.” We sat at the table not knowing what to do, caught between the mundanely awkward and the existentially impossible. “When they died, you just gave up!” Donna said. “You refused to talk through the choices we needed to make. So all that was left up to me. I was on my own, and I was scared, but scared isn’t any kind of excuse so I did what needed to be done. I settled the estate, I sold the house to pay the bills, because there were bills, you know. Medical bills, cemetery bills and all of the debt. And then once all of those choices were made, there you were to tell me I had done them wrong. And you just stopped talking to me, punishing me for the choices that you couldn’t make! And now, excuse me, now you fucking forgive me?!” Or something to that effect. “I didn’t do anything?” Ramon said. “Who was busy arranging the funeral?” “OH, the funeral!” said Donna. “Of course, forget all the bills and the estate, you planned an evening!”

Sylvia pulled my sleeve and we left them shouting at each other, burgers unserved and uneaten. Behind the shouting figure of Ramon, I could see Sylvia’s drawing tacked up on the wall next to the cash register.

Stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts that had a drive-thru window. And visible to the costumers, there was a huge screen tracking the percentage the employees were hitting of their “productivity target”. It was at 67 per cent. This per cent is 67 per cent of what they’re supposed to be. We are 33 per cent disappointed.

It’s terrifying what we’ve allowed them to do to us, so we could get coffee a few seconds faster. It’s a trade we all made, but we were never given time to think through the ramifications.

On the highway between Houston and New Orleans, a stretch of bayou and of absolutely  nothing else. Pulled off for gas and decided to get lunch too.

We both saw it, between an empty storefront with a half-collapsed banner saying “we buy gold” and a nail salon with only one employee, who was on a smoke break outside, staring up with unfocused eyes at he sky.

We didn’t even comment on it, we just went in past the sign that sais “PRAXIS”. “Hey,” Ramon said. “Hi there honeys!” said Donna. “You two seem happier,” said Sylvia. “We worked things out,” Donna said. “Maybe we both had to forgive and both be forgiven,” said Ramon. “It’s nice that you’re back. You’ll be one of our last customers.” Donna put two patties on the flat top without waiting for our order. “Oh, you’re uh.. closing up this place?” I said. “Running the business that our parents ran,” said Donna. “It was holding us back, keeping us in the same place mentally. We need to live our own lives. Thanks for visiting us along your travels!” “This restaurant has been in a different city every time we visited, “I said, wanting to confront it directly if this was my last chance. Ramon shrugged. “These things happen,” he said. “Do they?” said Sylvia. “What is Praxis?” I said. Donna smiled at me. “Oh honey, if you don’t know that yet, don’t worry. You’ll find out when it’s time.” She assembled the burgers and rang the little bell, even if Ramon was right there, his hands already out. “Thanks again for your business!”

Sylvia’s sketch was still tacked to the wall, but it had faded, and the edges of the napkin had gone brittle.

At a Bay and Creek center near Buffalo, I asked about the delivery I did last year to a factory in Florida. “Praxis”, the name on the factory had said. “What is Praxis?” I asked. The shift supervisor, who had been looking over her papers (and the days at) tedium, went stiff. “Where did you hear that name?” she said. “You assigned me a route for them last year.” “We certainly did not. You need to tell me everything, but hold on.” She got up, reached for a phone. “Not me, I don’t want to hear a word of this. I’ll call someone in here, and you are going to tell them everything you know about Praxis.” She started dialing and I got up and walked away. She shouted at me to wait, but I was most certainly not going to do that.

What is Praxis, and why did the name upset my Bay and Creek supervisor so much?

Hm. Another mystery for another day. It’s time to help Sylvia with what she came to me for.

I leave the truck, switch to a rented car. Sylvia sleeps in the back. Whew, that girl can sleep! Me, I have trouble sleeping in the best of situations. And I haven’t been in the best of situations in… well, years now probably.

We drive for hours through New York until we reach the Hudson river. In Kingston, on the western shore, there is this huge area of chain restaurants and box stores and strip malls. It looks like they kept the rest of the area picturesque by jamming all of that into a couple of square miles, which is a pretty good plan.

I drive around, looking for something specific. And I find it, next to a half-vacant mall anchored by a Target and what used to be a JC Pennies. There is a line of fast food franchises, and there is only one empty storefront.

We get out, and I ran my hand over the glass where the outline of the word “PRAXIS” is still visible. The inside is empty, all the furniture and fixtures removed. “Guess they really did move on,” Sylvia said. “How was that possible?” I asked. “We of all people are not in the position to go round asking those questions,” she said. “We start thinking about that, we’re liable to go off the deep end. Good Lord!”

And so we get back in the car and cross the river. I head to the Taconic Parkway, passing a few Christmas tree farms and a number of horses wearing jackets. The Taconic is beautiful but narrow. Finally, we reach a gas station on the southern edge of Duchess County and I wake Sylvia up. When she has regained the world, she takes on a look of determined sorrow. “Yeah,” she said. “This is where my mother was murdered.” “What now?” I said. “Now… We’re going to figure out who really murdered her.”

[right speaker] Knock knock. [left speaker] Who’s there? [right] I think you know. [left] I do. [right] Can I come in? [left] I don’t think so. [right] Come on. [left] I need you to leave! [right] That was never an option. Knock knock. Knock knock. Knock knock. [sighs] OK well, OK.

[jesseneufeld]

Why We Should All Be Eating Organ Meats

Today we welcome a post by guest author Ashleigh VanHouten, health and nutrition journalist, public speaker, certified health coach, and host of the Muscle Maven Radio podcast. Here, she explains why we’re missing out if we’re only eating boring boneless cuts of meat from the grocery store, and makes the case for eating nose-to-tail, for both our health and for our enjoyment. Her new cookbook, It Takes Guts, is available for preorder and hits the shelves in late October.

“It’s good for you and for the planet – and it’s easier and tastier than you think!” – Ashleigh VanHouten

Modified excerpt from It Takes Guts, shared with publisher permission.

If I had a dollar for every time someone told me, “I just can’t get my head around eating [insert type of organ meat here] because I didn’t grow up eating it,” I could retire now and live out the rest of my days eating animal hearts on a beach somewhere — but I have a secret for you. I didn’t grow up eating organ meat, either; I grew up eating cereal and bread and chicken breast, and while I always gravitated toward animal products, I certainly wasn’t eating liver or sweetbreads.

But as someone who has dedicated their career to researching, studying, and experimenting with nutrition, I believe strongly that one bite of something new won’t hurt you, and it just might open up a whole new world of pleasure and health. It’s a fact that organs are generally the most nutrient-dense parts of an animal, so if we can find fun and creative and even subtle ways to enjoy them, we’re winning. And by eating the whole animal, we’re also honoring and respecting the beings who sacrificed for our dinner plates by ensuring none of it is wasted.

I wrote my nose-to-tail cookbook It Takes Guts because I am passionate about honoring the animals we’re eating, and enjoying the full bounty of delicious and healthy options available to us. As the saying goes, the way you do anything is the way you do everything, and I believe we should all be approaching our plates, and our lives, with a sense of adventure and enthusiasm.

Here’s a quick breakdown of some of the reasons why eating organ meats is a good idea:

It’s Sustainable

It would be wasteful to buy a huge house and use only one or two rooms, right? Adopting a whole-animal approach reduces waste, and buying from local farms and butchers helps decrease the carbon footprint created when meat is brought to you from far-flung places. In the process of breaking down an animal, less than half of it will usually end up as boneless cuts, or the type of meat you normally pick up at a grocery store. Much of the rest is bone, hide, blood, and organs – the latter being the most nutrient-dense part of the animal, which we are essentially giving away to then eat the less nutrient-dense muscle meat!

If you’re reading this, you probably eat animals, and if you’ve accepted that eating animals is a natural part of living, the best way forward is to ensure that the animals you’re eating lived a healthy, natural life and were slaughtered humanely, and that we honor the animal’s sacrifice by not wasting any of it over arbitrary (and misguided) beliefs that some part of the animal are acceptable to eat and others aren’t.

It’s Healthy

It’s a fact: organ meats like liver, heart, and kidney are nutritional powerhouses, not just for their individual nutrients but for the synergistic effect of consuming these nutrients together. Nutrients like vitamin A, vitamin D, and magnesium work together with other food-based compounds. That’s why taking many of these nutrients on their own (in pill form, for example) doesn’t have as much of a positive effect on your body.

And to debunk a big myth about these cuts, it is untrue that organ meats like liver and kidney store and contain toxins. Organs like the liver filter toxins, usually moving them to the kidneys, from which they are eventually expelled through the urine. Toxins are removed from a healthy, well-functioning animal’s body via these miraculous organs just like they are in ours; eating fresh, healthy organs is the same as eating fresh, healthy muscle meat. If toxins do linger in the body, they are generally stored in fat cells (this goes for us too), which is why it’s crucial to source high-quality animal protein that is raised without pesticides or antibiotics, because that’s where they’ll end up: in your delicious, fatty rib-eye.

Organ meats are so nutrient-dense that you can eat very small amounts and get more benefit than you would from nearly any other food on the planet. A few ounces of beef liver contains your daily needs for many nutrients, including iron, copper, zinc, folate, choline, and vitamins A and B12. So even if I can’t convince you to love the taste of organ meats, I hope I can help you understand that these are superfoods that can dramatically improve your health.

It Saves You Money

Often, organ meats are less expensive than muscle meats simply because they aren’t in high demand. Imagine the nutrient-dense parts being sold for scraps while the basic protein is sold at a premium! Unlike prime cuts of grass-fed beef, grass-fed beef liver and heart are pretty cheap. A beef tongue can feed a party of six for about ten bucks; chicken hearts are often sold for a few bucks a pound; and you can buy a bag of tasty, protein packed chicken gizzards that will serve a whole family for less than you’d pay for a fancy salad at your local fast-casual restaurant.

If you want to get the best nutritional bang for your buck with protein, your best bet is to throw some offal in there. Make friends with your local butcher, too, so you learn about and source the best stuff!

It’s Fun (and Ancestral!)

If you can reframe your perceptions of organ meat being “gross” or extreme and see it for what it really is—just a different part of the animal you’re already eating, and a much more nutritious part at that—you can start having fun with different recipes and preparations.

Nose-to-tail eating is also a celebration of culture and history, honoring the traditional foods off different countries; a time when people were less swayed by grocery store marketing and more driven by instinct; when we gave more respect to the time, skill, and labor of providing meals for our families, and when nourishment mattered more than hyperpalatability.

It’s Tasty (Really!)

Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it—that’s what I’m always telling my skeptics. While certain organ meats have stronger flavors and unique textures and may never appeal to some people, the same can be said for less controversial foods (don’t even get me started on broccoli—now that’s an acquired taste!) I know I’ll never win everyone over, but if you’re willing to at least try,

I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how delicious, delicate, and decadent offal can be. If you’d like to learn more about the health, history, and deliciousness of organ meats, including my personal journey and more than 75 offal-based recipes created by myself and a range of other fantastic chefs, you can pre-order my book, It Takes Guts, now!

Ashleigh VanHouten is a health and nutrition journalist, public speaker, certified health coach, and self-proclaimed muscle nerd. She has written for Paleo Magazine for more than eight years, along with a number of other health publications. She hosts the Muscle Maven Radio podcast, which has been downloaded more than 1.5 million times, where she’s interviewed some of the biggest names in health and wellness, including Mark Sisson, Dave Asprey, and Steph Gaudreau. She’s also worked with other top-rated health-related podcasts, such as Barbell Shrugged, Muscle Intelligence, and Paleo Magazine Radio. Combining her formal education and professional experience in marketing and communications with her passion for healthy eating, exercise, and learning, Ashleigh works in a consulting role for a number of professionals in the health and wellness world, working alongside individuals like Dr. Gabrielle Lyon, Ben Pakulski, and Elle Russ. Find out more at ashleighvanhouten.com.

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[lauramalchowblog]

Why We Should All Be Eating Organ Meats

Today we welcome a post by guest author Ashleigh VanHouten, health and nutrition journalist, public speaker, certified health coach, and host of the Muscle Maven Radio podcast. Here, she explains why we’re missing out if we’re only eating boring boneless cuts of meat from the grocery store, and makes the case for eating nose-to-tail, for both our health and for our enjoyment. Her new cookbook, It Takes Guts, is available for preorder and hits the shelves in late October.

“It’s good for you and for the planet – and it’s easier and tastier than you think!” – Ashleigh VanHouten

Modified excerpt from It Takes Guts, shared with publisher permission.

If I had a dollar for every time someone told me, “I just can’t get my head around eating [insert type of organ meat here] because I didn’t grow up eating it,” I could retire now and live out the rest of my days eating animal hearts on a beach somewhere — but I have a secret for you. I didn’t grow up eating organ meat, either; I grew up eating cereal and bread and chicken breast, and while I always gravitated toward animal products, I certainly wasn’t eating liver or sweetbreads.

But as someone who has dedicated their career to researching, studying, and experimenting with nutrition, I believe strongly that one bite of something new won’t hurt you, and it just might open up a whole new world of pleasure and health. It’s a fact that organs are generally the most nutrient-dense parts of an animal, so if we can find fun and creative and even subtle ways to enjoy them, we’re winning. And by eating the whole animal, we’re also honoring and respecting the beings who sacrificed for our dinner plates by ensuring none of it is wasted.

I wrote my nose-to-tail cookbook It Takes Guts because I am passionate about honoring the animals we’re eating, and enjoying the full bounty of delicious and healthy options available to us. As the saying goes, the way you do anything is the way you do everything, and I believe we should all be approaching our plates, and our lives, with a sense of adventure and enthusiasm.

Here’s a quick breakdown of some of the reasons why eating organ meats is a good idea:

It’s Sustainable

It would be wasteful to buy a huge house and use only one or two rooms, right? Adopting a whole-animal approach reduces waste, and buying from local farms and butchers helps decrease the carbon footprint created when meat is brought to you from far-flung places. In the process of breaking down an animal, less than half of it will usually end up as boneless cuts, or the type of meat you normally pick up at a grocery store. Much of the rest is bone, hide, blood, and organs – the latter being the most nutrient-dense part of the animal, which we are essentially giving away to then eat the less nutrient-dense muscle meat!

If you’re reading this, you probably eat animals, and if you’ve accepted that eating animals is a natural part of living, the best way forward is to ensure that the animals you’re eating lived a healthy, natural life and were slaughtered humanely, and that we honor the animal’s sacrifice by not wasting any of it over arbitrary (and misguided) beliefs that some part of the animal are acceptable to eat and others aren’t.

It’s Healthy

It’s a fact: organ meats like liver, heart, and kidney are nutritional powerhouses, not just for their individual nutrients but for the synergistic effect of consuming these nutrients together. Nutrients like vitamin A, vitamin D, and magnesium work together with other food-based compounds. That’s why taking many of these nutrients on their own (in pill form, for example) doesn’t have as much of a positive effect on your body.

And to debunk a big myth about these cuts, it is untrue that organ meats like liver and kidney store and contain toxins. Organs like the liver filter toxins, usually moving them to the kidneys, from which they are eventually expelled through the urine. Toxins are removed from a healthy, well-functioning animal’s body via these miraculous organs just like they are in ours; eating fresh, healthy organs is the same as eating fresh, healthy muscle meat. If toxins do linger in the body, they are generally stored in fat cells (this goes for us too), which is why it’s crucial to source high-quality animal protein that is raised without pesticides or antibiotics, because that’s where they’ll end up: in your delicious, fatty rib-eye.

Organ meats are so nutrient-dense that you can eat very small amounts and get more benefit than you would from nearly any other food on the planet. A few ounces of beef liver contains your daily needs for many nutrients, including iron, copper, zinc, folate, choline, and vitamins A and B12. So even if I can’t convince you to love the taste of organ meats, I hope I can help you understand that these are superfoods that can dramatically improve your health.

It Saves You Money

Often, organ meats are less expensive than muscle meats simply because they aren’t in high demand. Imagine the nutrient-dense parts being sold for scraps while the basic protein is sold at a premium! Unlike prime cuts of grass-fed beef, grass-fed beef liver and heart are pretty cheap. A beef tongue can feed a party of six for about ten bucks; chicken hearts are often sold for a few bucks a pound; and you can buy a bag of tasty, protein packed chicken gizzards that will serve a whole family for less than you’d pay for a fancy salad at your local fast-casual restaurant.

If you want to get the best nutritional bang for your buck with protein, your best bet is to throw some offal in there. Make friends with your local butcher, too, so you learn about and source the best stuff!

It’s Fun (and Ancestral!)

If you can reframe your perceptions of organ meat being “gross” or extreme and see it for what it really is—just a different part of the animal you’re already eating, and a much more nutritious part at that—you can start having fun with different recipes and preparations.

Nose-to-tail eating is also a celebration of culture and history, honoring the traditional foods off different countries; a time when people were less swayed by grocery store marketing and more driven by instinct; when we gave more respect to the time, skill, and labor of providing meals for our families, and when nourishment mattered more than hyperpalatability.

It’s Tasty (Really!)

Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it—that’s what I’m always telling my skeptics. While certain organ meats have stronger flavors and unique textures and may never appeal to some people, the same can be said for less controversial foods (don’t even get me started on broccoli—now that’s an acquired taste!) I know I’ll never win everyone over, but if you’re willing to at least try,

I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how delicious, delicate, and decadent offal can be. If you’d like to learn more about the health, history, and deliciousness of organ meats, including my personal journey and more than 75 offal-based recipes created by myself and a range of other fantastic chefs, you can pre-order my book, It Takes Guts, now!

Ashleigh VanHouten is a health and nutrition journalist, public speaker, certified health coach, and self-proclaimed muscle nerd. She has written for Paleo Magazine for more than eight years, along with a number of other health publications. She hosts the Muscle Maven Radio podcast, which has been downloaded more than 1.5 million times, where she’s interviewed some of the biggest names in health and wellness, including Mark Sisson, Dave Asprey, and Steph Gaudreau. She’s also worked with other top-rated health-related podcasts, such as Barbell Shrugged, Muscle Intelligence, and Paleo Magazine Radio. Combining her formal education and professional experience in marketing and communications with her passion for healthy eating, exercise, and learning, Ashleigh works in a consulting role for a number of professionals in the health and wellness world, working alongside individuals like Dr. Gabrielle Lyon, Ben Pakulski, and Elle Russ. Find out more at ashleighvanhouten.com.

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[outrageousloveinc]

Self Care?

People often ask me what I do to take care of myself. How do I rest? How do I find ways to sustain the energy it takes to do the work that I do? First, I have to say that I am not very good at it. I am a workaholic. I was raised with a work ethic that taught me that the number of items I mark off my to-do list each day determines my worth. I have to fight this natural inclination, and the voice in my head that always says, “There’s more to do.”

With that said, I have become better at resting and taking time for myself. Ugh. Even writing those words stirs up that inner critic. “See that. You wrote “myself.” Selfish.” Sigh. Guilt is another thing I am still overcoming! But this I will do. We can do hard things. :-)

Here are some ways I take care of myself:

1. More than ten years ago, a good friend and pastoral person in my life encouraged me to learn contemplative methods of prayer. He talked about his own burn out and shared how contemplation had literally saved his life. He taught ancient Christian forms of prayer, including The Examen, The Jesus Prayer, Centering Prayer, and Walking Prayer. I listened to everything he said, and I believed him . . . but I didn’t put any of it into practice. I was still running on adrenaline and an attitude that said, “I’m fine. I don’t need that.” Besides, ain’t nobody got time for that!

It wasn’t until some painful experiences in my life brought me to a place where my adrenaline was gone. I could not deal. Pain swirled and overruled everything. It was in this condition that I happened upon a retreat being held by Gravity, a Center for Contemplative Activism in Omaha, NE. The weekend was to be spent learning these methods of prayer and gaining some inspiration to incorporate them into daily practice. 

I respected Phileena and Chris Heuertz, the Founders of Gravity. I had watched their ministry from a distance for more than twenty years. They had lived in some of the roughest, emotionally taxing places and situations, building community among AIDS orphans, human trafficking and genocide survivors. Plus, they had spent time in India with Mother Teresa! They had seen ministers come and go, not able to sustain such difficult work, and many completely burned out of ministry and some even faith entirely. They founded Gravity to help activists like me. I decided to go to the retreat.

We spent the weekend practicing these methods of prayer, which are different from any other form of prayer I had seen in my own Christian experience. Rather than petitioning God for the things we want, or even the things we think/hope God wants, and different from prayer that actively listens for God’s voice (the subject of my first book), each of these methods is designed to quiet the soul, to simply sit in the presence of God, and to allow the great Physician to heal and transform the parts of my soul that God knows (even better than I) need to be healed. Phileena says: “Through activism we confront toxicity in our world, but through contemplation we confront it in ourselves.”

So, practically, how this works for me is that I try to spend at least twenty minutes every day in Centering Prayer/Meditation. I am a perfectionist, and so even as I write that, I am aware that the recommended ideal is to spend two twenty minute sessions per day, and my inner critic shouts, “You’re falling short! God won’t really be able to help you until you do it right!” But I am learning to be gentler to myself. I am learning to dismiss that inner critic and to treat myself as I would a friend. I remind myself that I am doing better, and where I used to insist that I don’t need this kind of time alone with God, I am now very aware of my need and often find myself craving my next twenty-minute prayer sit. 

The result? I am less reactionary than I was before. Triggers that used to initiate instinctual responses of anger in me happen less often, and when they do, I am much more able to breathe and get back to my “center”—which for me is about remembering who I am. Who I am to God. Who I am to my family. Who I am to the few people who matter most in my life. And who I want to be as a human being. Living from this centered placed makes me a kinder, gentler person—to others and to myself. Being still saves me.

2. I have been trying to regularly schedule time to get away. Actually physically away. I schedule a few a days to go somewhere where I have no responsibilities. No expectations upon me. I let my people know that I am not available to handle things back home, so they will just have to figure it out. On these personal retreats, sometimes I write, sometimes I sleep, sometimes I look at nature. The point is to only do things that I enjoy doing! No work. 

Usually, I take these retreats alone, which means both solitude and silence. I am an introvert, so for me, this is heaven. My life is crowded and loud. All the time. My nerves are constantly being stimulated, and my energy drained. These personal, quiet retreats refresh my soul. Usually by the end of the third day, I am missing people. I don’t want to eat alone any more. I have things I want to say. That is how I know I am ready to go home—refreshed.

3. As a family, we take an annual vacation. After having been in full-time ministry for more than fifteen years and never having taken a vacation, some of our mentors and friends required us to go. The one condition of the vacation was that there could be no work involved. We were not allowed to tack on a speaking event, or even a visit to a financial supporter. The purpose of the trip was to spend time together as a family, resting and having fun together. 

Vacation for me is defined by having no schedule. No place I have to go to be there at any specific time. We do visit sites and give the kids opportunity to see and experience new places. But most importantly, we sleep in, we take naps, we play lots of cards and those silly board games where people shout and laugh til the tears pour. And if at all possible we look at the ocean.

4. Finally, I have incorporated some indulgences into my life. I have a terrible time receiving. Receiving gifts. Receiving help. Receiving acts of service. I grew up in a home where there wasn’t much help available to me, as my mother was in a painful world of her own, and I learned to be self-sufficient. Yet, at the same time, I get frustrated that “nobody” is helping me. I’m doing everything here people! All the while, I don’t ask, and I put off an air that says, “I don’t need your help.” How dumb is that?! 

So I decided to pay some professionals for their help. This felt more comfortable to me than asking for help. This is what they do. They get paid to do it. I started with a massage. I’d never had a massage. How do you find a place to go? I opened my web browser, and I actually prayed before I searched, “God, please lead me to the right person.” (I have trust issues too!) A place caught my eye, so I made the call. 

The woman who answered the phone asked me a few questions about what I was looking for. Then she said, “We have other massage therapists here, and I usually don’t answer the phone, but I think I am the one who is supposed to give you your massage.” She went on to tell me about her methods, which include aromatherapy, using essential oils to treat physical, emotional and even spiritual maladies. I was sold! 

I now go to visit my friend, Tina, about once a quarter. I should go more often, but have I mentioned I have guilt issues? Tina is more than just a massage therapist. She is a healer. I usually end up on her table when I am an emotional wreck, crying, “Fix me!,” to which she responds, “What took you so long to come see me?”

Next, I decided to get a pedicure. It’s something I don’t need at all. There is nothing necessary or responsible about me getting a pedicure—in any way. And that is the point. Let me tell you about my nail salon.

I went one afternoon—alone, of course. The thirty-something, Vietnamese man met me as I entered the store. There were no other customers there, and only a couple of other workers. I suddenly felt concerned. Maybe there was a reason they didn’t have much business. I told him I was looking for a pedicure. He pointed to a wall of shelves and said, “You pick color.” I chose purple, because I like purple. It matches nothing that I wear, because I’m not that brave. But I like purple. 

The man then led me to a big, maroon colored chair with a washtub at it’s base, where I took off my shoes and climbed into the seat. He turned a knob and warm water rushed into the basin, covering my feet in peace. Then he pressed a button, and massage rollers began climbing my back. He said, “You sit back an’ rest.” Perfect. This was just what I needed.

I set the book I had brought to read on the chair next to me. It was by Phileena Heuertz, Pilgrimage of the Soul. I had been reading about her calling to missions, about her marriage to Chris and her desire to go to India. I related to her story and wanted to learn more. Maybe there was something in this book to help me be a better person—a better minister. I’d read it after I settled in.

He sat down on a little stool, and before he began, he aimed a remote control at the stereo. The smooth voice of Lionel Richie sang out, “Hello, is it me you're looking for?” I smiled. He asked, “You like?” I nodded that I did. I hadn’t heard that song in years, and it was like coming home. Weird, I know, but I went to high school in the 80’s.

Again he said, “You sit back an’ rest.” I closed my eyes, and I wish I could say I did just that. But as he began clipping and filing my toe nails, I started thinking about how ridiculous this was. I minister with the poor. I spend most of my days with people who could never afford a pedicure. What a ridiculous waste of money. I could even pay for a hotel room for one of my homeless friends with this money. Have I mentioned I have guilt issues? Breathe, Jamie. Why does this feel like I’m receiving a spinal tap, instead of a gift?

Then I heard something. It was quiet at first. I wasn’t even sure I had heard it. I listened closer. Stevie Wonder was now singing, “I just called to say I love you. I just called to say how much I care.” But there was another voice, a sweet, nasal voice, with a distinct Vietnamese accent. “I jus call to say I ruh you. An' I mean it from da bottom uh my har.” I opened my eyes. He noticed. “You like my singing?” he asked. I told him he had a beautiful voice and closed my eyes again.

Next came George Michael’s, Careless Whisper, “I don’t ever wanna dance again. Guilty feet have got no rhythm.” My pedicurists’ stilted, Vietnamese accented version brought a smile to my face. I wanted to laugh out loud at the irony, at the sweetness, at the ridiculousness of the whole scene. His confidence grew with each song, which means so did his volume. I peaked through my eyelids to see his eyes closed, head tilted back, my foot in his massaging hand. He didn’t miss a beat as he sang along with Whitney Houston, even hitting the high note of the key change, “Ahyeeahhyeeahh will alway ruh you.” 

When Endless Love began, I opened my eyes wide. You’ve got to be kidding me. He sang both parts. The man and the woman. Loud and strong. I was getting it. We listened to Mariah Carey, the Commodores, Celine Dion, and Michael Jackson. All love songs. All the while he massaged my tired feet and legs. I laughed and said out loud, “Okay, God. I hear you.” I believe in love. I aim to be and give love. But have I mentioned I have a hard time receiving?

When he had painted my toe nails bright purple, he looked up at me and asked, “You like?” I told him I did. He stood up from the stool and aimed the remote at the stereo. He scrolled through some songs and pushed a button. Then he climbed into the massage chair next to mine and waited. Strange. I guessed he was on a break. No other customers here for him to serve. He just had to wait for my polish to dry. Then the music started to play:

"There comes a time When we heed a certain call When the world must come together as one There are people dying And it's time to lend a hand to life The greatest gift of all We can't go on pretending day by day That someone, somewhere will soon make a change We're all a part of God's great big family And the truth, you know, love is all we need We are the world We are the children We are the ones who make a brighter day So let's start giving There is a choice we're making Were saving our own lives It's true we'll make a better day, just you and me Send them your heart So they'll know that someone cares And their lives will be stronger and free As God has shown us by turning stones to bread And so we all must lend a helping hand We are the world We are the children We are the ones who make a brighter day So let's start giving There is a choice we're making Were saving our own lives It's true we'll make a better day, just you and me When you're down and out, there seems no hope at all But if you just believe there's no way we can fall Well, well, well, well let us realize oh! That a change can only come When we stand together as one We are the world We are the children We are the ones who make a brighter day So let's start giving There is a choice we're making Were saving our own lives It's true we'll make a better day, just you and me"

Tears streamed down my face, as Tony, my new friend, sang the words at the top of his lungs. When I got home, I showed my toes to John and he asked, “How was it?” I said, “God was at the nail salon,” which elicited the appropriate eye rolls and “whatever, moms” from the kids. 

I go for a pedicure about once a quarter. Every time I go is not as special as that first time, but I rest and pay someone to serve me for an hour or so. Because not only did God tell me it was okay for me to do so, but God taught me that as I do, together we will make the world a better place. 

 To learn more about Gravity, a Center for Contemplative Activism and Phileena and Chris' work, check out their web page. If you can get to a retreat, it might just change your life!  https://gravitycenter.com 

Songwriters MICHAEL JACKSON, LIONEL RICHIE Published by Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.