#tiny homes in Iowa City

[tinyhomesofiowa]

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[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Named After Locations Masterlist

A Little Bit Of California, With A Little Bit Of London Sky (ao3) - twelfthnlght

Summary: (alternatively, dan and phil go outside.)

on an impulsive road trip dan plans right before their high school graduation, the truth will out.

Australian Adventures (ao3) - shippercentral

Summary: An Instagram story of Dan and Phil’s island adventures in Australia seem normal, but what really went on behind the scenes? Why did Dan really cover up Phil’s face in that one story? This semi- normal get away seems to be leaving a lot of questions.

berlin (ao3) - waveydnp and dizzy

Summary: dan and phil meet at a hostel in berlin.

Dan and Phil's Stroll Through Japan (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: When Duncan and Mimei have to cancel on their plans with Dan and Phil for the day, they take it upon themselves to stroll around Japan by themselves.

Disney World Misadventures - auroraphilealis

Summary: Dan, a law student with parents so strict they make him come home every weekend, gets ditched by his friends at Disney World in Florida during his short summer holiday. Alone, he runs into an incredibly attractive YouTuber who nerds out about anime with him, and even buys him a tiny Ciel figurine. Dan, meanwhile, quickly finds himself falling in love, especially after they get it on in a Disney World bathroom.

Glimpses of Portugal (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: Dan and Phil went to Portugal together May 27-June 3, 2010, but very little is known about the trip. This is a random collection of ficlets that take place during that trip, occasionally incorporating some of the few actual tweets and photos from the trip. They aren't in any particular order, but they all take place during that holiday in Portugal.

how to survive a flight to australia - softiejace

summary:inspired by “will dan and phil survive australia?” in which dan suffers through horror in the form of planes, noise, and other people. but hey, at least he’s in it with phil.

Iowa 80 - realityisnoplacetolive

Summary: In which Phil is stranded in Iowa.

It's Good To Be In Manchester (ao3) - danrifics

Summary: Dan and Phil are in Manchester visiting their friends Ian and Lauren Ian and Lauren’s daughter draws a cute photo of Phil.

(Based on a Phil insta story, link in notes)

Manchester (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: 13 March 2010 @amazingphil- “Looking at apartments in Manchester:]”

Memories in Melbourne (ao3) - hilariousandunappreciated

Summary: moments from Dan and Phil's instagram stories in Melbourne.

Moscow to Berlin (ao3) - outphan

Summary: What happens when they get horny on the plane?

New Zealand During Six AM (ao3) - watergator

Summary: Dan and Phil wake up early during their first day in new zealand to get some laundry done.

Phoenix Rising (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: Dan challenges Phil to a period of forced abstinence while on tour in America. The game becomes unbearable, and each man has moments of weakness. In the end, it is all about passion and urgency.

That's What You Get (For Waking Up in Vegas) (ao3) - notanannoyingfangirl

Summary: While revisiting Vegas for Dan’s twenty fourth birthday, Dan and Phil both have a bit too much to drink…. and apparently wake up married. Dan’s not entirely sure that he wants a divorce, now he just has to convince Phil.

Under Vegas Lights (ao3) - LunarLoverrr (orphan_account)

Summary: It's the last night of their Nevada road trip, and Phil has the perfect date planned for his boyfriend. However, he hopes this date will be a stand out among the rest.

Vegas (ao3) - justhavesex

Summary: When Dan turns 30 and Dan makes a video titled 'Vegas', a short home made video with him and Phil at the alter in Vegas. Not when they were younger, but the current them. He wanted to live out everybody's fantasies about them getting married in Vegas, just a tiny bit.

Vegas Lights - softiejace

Summary:2012 is not going as planned, but phil still takes dan to vegas for his 21st birthday, the city that is said to hold adventure, risk and fortune – and maybe a flimsy hope for conciliation?

Venice: City Of Dreams (ao3) - expiredlove

Summary: Dan and Phil are on holiday in Venice, Italy, with two of their best friends. They discover the city with their unprofessional tour guide Phil and end their day with a romantic stop at the Accademia Bridge, which is known for its so called love locks.

We’re Going To Disney World! - dxnhowell

Summary: A future fic where Dan and Phil are no longer youtubers. They’re married and have two kids named Kaden and Josh. Josh decides that he wants to go to Disney World for his birthday this year.

[soapkaars]

I'm searching a few ideas to characterize a Dutchman who migrated to the United States in 1933 and accidentally found a job in Hollywood (the current year being 1941 - this man just had his breakout role). He has a story pretty similar to Lorre's and his persona is largely inspired by his role in "The Mask of Dimitrios". Do you have, by chance, any interesting suggestion?

Sorry I made you wait! Ooh this is a tough one. So you're talking about a professor van Leyden type?

It really depends on what exactly you're looking for or what you want to tell. If you're looking for a reason a Dutch person may find themselves in the US, it might be for a number of reasons - from the more familiar (star-struck, wanting to make it big in pictures) to the mundane (set up a farm in Iowa, immigrating to avoid tax collection and/or debts) to the spicy (political dissident - anticolonialist fighting against Dutch occupation of Indonesia).

If you're looking for a 'typical' background of a Dutch person similar to Lorre's character for Van Leyden, there's a lot you can do. Cornelis*/Cornelius may live in Amsterdam, but wouldn't come from there originally, as many Dutch people tend to move from the countryside to the city (literally, from the East of the country to the West of the country, which is where the more urban areas are) to develop themselves, look for more intellectual pursuits and/or opportunities, etc. My personal headcanon for van Leyden has always been that he was born somewhere near Amersfoort from German-Jewish immigrant parents and he moved to the slightly more tolerant city of Amsterdam to escape the oppressive black stocking-wearing Calvinist communities back home.

If you want to know the broad strokes of what defines a Dutch person and makes them different from an Englishman or a German person, a rough stereotype you could use to build off on or contrast your character to: We're a tiny country not just in how much physical square meters we have (three hours travel is long for a Dutch person!) but also in attitudes. I say this as a Dutchman myself: there's a very provincial/country bumpkin way of being that gives a lot of Dutch people a weird naiveté and bluntness compared to their European counterparts. There's the classic 'you don't get to be the boss of me!' that you find a lot with Dutch people - it's not that we're so anti-authoritarian (we do still have a monarchy, for example) but there's a huge distaste for formal and external displays of status in favour for more subtle displays. Also Dutch people are like German people in the sense that we're very protocol driven and we want to do everything 'by the book' - there's a strong sense of 'we all agreed to do it this way, so there's no use in doing it differently' and a lot of Dutch people I know can genuinely get very upset when other people don't do it in the specific way they think is 'correct'.

A person like Cornelius van Leyden probably would be a bit of an odd duck in Dutch society. Which is why he's living in Amsterdam! That city used to be (and still is, in my opinion, but way too expensive now) one of the few cities where there was a more lax way of being in comparison to the rest of the country. A lot of Dutch stereotypes non-Dutch people have come from there! In comparison to Amsterdam the rest of the country is much more strict and less open (with the exception of The Hague, but I come from there so I'm biased). We have a sort of division of the country where there's the 'randstad' (Edge City - Amsterdam, Leiden, The Hague, Rotterdam, and Utrecht - a very urbanised area where most of the wealth and finances used to be historically, and where more open attitudes used to flourish) and everywhere else (generally referred to as 'The East', 'the provinces', or 'the countryside' - all of which aren't very accurate names, but most Dutch people will know that you're referring to anyone who isn't from the Randstad)

Anyways, let me know if you were looking for something specific, and if this ramble was useful to you in any way!

*I always tend to 'correct' Cornelius' name to the more common 'Cornelis'! Also I used to know a guy called Cornelis and he hated it when we called him 'Corny'

[michaelgruberfan]

Tiny interview Michael and Tony did for the Southwest Connector in order to help promote Jersey Boys! (X) (Published Wednesday, May 17, 2023) It's a relatively short read and if you've seen next to any recent Gruber interviews you'll know this stuff anyways however to get confirmation that Tony DID work in New York for a bit was cool (I wasn't certain about it however I was thinking he might of cause of blah blah) Article below the cut:

By Tesha M. Christensen

Two Armatage residents are wrapping up a run in “The Prom” at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater, and looking ahead to “Jersey Boys.” Spouses Tony Vierling and Michael Gruber actually met at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater. It was 2007 and they were both in the world premiere of Irving Berlin’s “Easter Parade.” “I was brought in from New York City to play Don Hewes and Tony was in the company. We became great friends during the run of the show, and our relationship progressed from there,” recalled Gruber. “It was one of those decisions that really did change the course of my life.” Vierling added, “We’ve been together 16 years and married for nine years. We moved back to Minneapolis, to the Armatage neighborhood, in 2010 after having been working in New York and being on tour.”

What drew you to acting? Gruber: I remember putting on plays for my second grade class. My teacher must have been very open minded. I can’t remember what they were about, but I do remember being fairly extroverted – which is funny because I’m quite an introvert in my adult life. But nevertheless, I do love being a part of stories that can affect an audience in a positive way. Vierling: I started acting at the age of eight. I have always been a bit dramatic! Putting on plays in my basement, with my best friend in his garage, at the church, anywhere I could! I started actually acting in a local theatre in Des Moines, Iowa, as well as doing school plays. Did commercials and voice over work as a kid and teenager. I have always loved the group dynamic of theatre, and the rapport that is shared with the audience.

What is exciting about this production? Gruber: I am in the ensemble so I get to play several different characters. That is always delightful because I have much broader leeway to create something personal and fun. I also understudy one of the principals, Trent Oliver, and due to COVID-19 in the company, I had to learn the role of the high school principal, Tom Hawkins, in two days and perform it for three performances until the actor playing the role could return to the production. That was a wonderful challenge. Vierling: I play several smaller characters in this show. All of them are very silly, which is great fun. What excites me about this show is the young people in our cast. They are all so talented; it’s a very energetic show for them! I really love watching their work every night! As far as my roles and growth in this show, every job is a learning experience. Since my parts are smaller, I am more of a support this time. Creating characters and filling scenes with ideas that other actors can play against adds texture to the show, making it a richer experience for us all.

What is it like to perform with your significant other? Vierling: It is a real joy to work with my spouse every night. We have been so lucky to be able to consistently work together. Being on a performance schedule is challenging and can be pretty difficult if one of the couple is not home every night. It takes another actor to understand the demands of the job. Gruber: It is great to be able to share the stage with Tony. We have had the opportunity to play opposite each other in “Singin’ in the Rain” as Don and Cosmo at the Ordway, in “Holiday Inn” as Jim and Ted, and “The Music Man” as Harold and Marcellus.

What’s next? Gruber: We both will be in the company of Jersey Boys. I’m cast as Gyp Decarlo and Tony will play Joe Pesci. Vierling: We start rehearsals in a couple of weeks and open in mid June. Should be a very fun show. Minneapolis has such a rich a diverse theatre community. The talent here is amazing, and we are so lucky to have so many amazing theatres to showcase all of that talent. Get out and support local theatre!

[alj4890]

Day 4: Travel

Choices Red Carpet Diaries Appreciation Week

(Seth Levine x MC*Jessica Clarke) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Drabble (Taking place between books 1 and 2 before Jessica moved out of her cheap apartment)

Prompt: "Can we go ice skating?" "It's 70 degrees, where are we going to find ice?"

Song inspiration: Walking In a Winter Wonderland by Darlene Love

Rating G for nothing but Fluff

@choicesrcd2022 @hopelessromantic1352 @promptnonny @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @trappedinfanfiction @flyawayboo @krsnlove

Masterlist

Hollywood Magic

Jessica sniffed as she finished trimming her tiny tree. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gazed at the pitiful little thing.

"You look like you should be Charlie Brown's tree."

Taking a stuttered breath, she tried to calm down before answering her door.

"Ho Ho Ho! Merry Chris-why are you crying?" Seth came in, arms filled with presents, and kicked the door shut.

Jessica shrugged. She swiped up a dish towel to wipe her face.

Seth set the gifts down on her kitchen table. He folded his arms and waited for her to explain.

She ignored the silent prompt and began to search for something to drink.

"You want anything?" She asked.

"Yeah." He replied. "I want to know why you're crying."

"Well I want to know why you're wearing a Santa hat." She quipped back. "I guess life is full of unsolved mysteries."

"Nice try, Iowa. But there can only be one comedian in this apartment building." He spread his arms out with a grin. "And you're looking at him."

Jessica rolled her eyes as she brushed past him to sit on the loveseat.

Seth pulled his hat off with a deep, over exaggerated sigh.

Plopping down next to her, he set his arm around her shoulders.

Tears began to fall freely once again.

"Will my work never cease?" He grumbled playfully. "Hey Jess?"

She looked up at him.

"What do you call a kid who doesn't believe in Santa?"

Her brow furrowed. "I don't know."

"A Rebel Without a Claus."

A heartbeat of silence fell between them before a tearful laugh slipped out.

"Whew. I was worried I had lost my touch there." He gently shook her. "What's going on?"

"I guess I'm homesick." She mumbled, dabbing at her eyes.

She then narrowed them at the sunshine spilling in through the windows. It was so... unnatural.

"I've never had a Christmas without my mom or snow."

"Ah yes." Seth pulled her closer. "Who can forget freezing your extremities off while shoveling snow for five months of the year?"

Jessica laughed, settling her head upon his shoulder. "We always got the biggest tree we could find on old Mr. Winslow's lot. Then we'd pull out the ornaments passed down through our family and tell the same stories we tell every year about them."

"Hard same, but with a menorah." He quipped. "Nothing like polishing great Uncle Morty's for eight crazy nights."

Jessica chuckled. "Then we'd bake goodies for all our friends and neighbors. There'd be caroling."

"Sugar comas while singing in below zero temperatures." He smiled when she laughed again.

"There'd always be a group of us who would go ice skating on Christmas Eve." She continued. "Then we'd hurry home, nearly numb from the cold to sip hot chocolate by the fire."

"Now there's a thought." Seth turned towards her. "How about a date tonight, Iowa?"

"Um," Jessica replied, a little surprised by the abrupt change in topic, "okay."

"Can we go ice skating?" He asked.

She stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "I don't know if the heat has gotten to you, but it's 70 degrees here, where are we going to find ice?"

His smile grew. "Oh Iowa. You're in the city where the magic never stops." He got up, pulling her to her feet. "Go wash that beautiful face of yours. We are going to do one of your holiday traditions tonight.

************

"Welcome to Pershing Square's Holiday Ice Rink!" Seth gestured out where people were gliding along to music.

Jessica blinked, trying to take in the sight of an outdoor ice rink in downtown Los Angeles.

"How?" She asked.

"Magic." Seth replied.

"Sure, but seriously. How??? It was almost ninety degrees out today!"

"Oh Jess. We don't do science here." He wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked over to a skate rental booth. "I mean, I'm sure whoever runs this does. But we locals--"

"You are from Ohio." Jessica reminded him.

"I've been here long enough for the sun to burn away all those Midwest winters." He winked at her. "Anyway, we don't ask questions. We put on our skates and rock out to whatever DJ HowLy puts on."

"Walking in a Winter Wonderland is something you rock out too?" Jessica teased.

"We rock out when it's a remix of Darlene Love's version." He knelt down to tie her skates.

Jessica felt her loneliness begin to lessen as she watched him. Her heart ached over how sweet he was in trying to bring a holiday tradition from home to life out here amongst the palm trees.

He took her hand, smiled at her, and tugged her out onto the ice. He then let her go.

"Okay Iowa, let's see what all those years of ice skating taught you."

Jessica's smile made his heart race. He still couldn't believe someone like her was always ready to go out with him. After the unexpected success of her first film, he'd thought she would consider him a part of her past.

Instead, she acted as if nothing big had happened to her. She was still that sweet, gorgeous, incredibly talented girl who'd been completely lost in the big city six months earlier.

He whistled when she began to skate, doing elegant twirls and jumps around him.

"All right. You passed the test." He held his hand out to her. "I believe this is a couple's only skate."

"Oh?" Jessica pretended to think about it. With a huge smile, she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "Then we shouldn't break the rules."

He squeezed her hand as they skated, both belting the lyrics to songs as loud as they could, laughing the whole time.

"You know?" Jessica cut her eyes towards him. "I like this couple's only idea."

"You do, huh?"

She nodded.

He stopped them off to the side of the rink.

"Anyone in particular you'd like to be the other half of your couple?"

She lowered her eyes while a pretty blush made her cheeks rosy.

"I had a few ideas." She looked up at him. "But clearly there's only one that will do."

"A few ideas?" Seth felt the wind get knocked out of him. "Wh-wh-who is it?"

He knew she and Matt Rodriguez made their love scenes in Tender Nothing's look like the real deal. Plus he'd seen how close she was to Teja and Victoria. Then seeing Thomas Hunt talking to her after the premiere revealed a lot potential romance there. He didn't stand a chance against any of them. Not only was he not in the same league with them, it wasn't even the same universe!

Jessica skated forward, pinning him between the barrier and her body.

"It's you, you dope." She draped her arms around his neck. "Who else has gone out of their way so many times to make me stop crying and encourage me?"

His smile reappeared. "You are pretty lucky, aren't you?"

He held her close as he sought her lips.

She hummed her agreement in the midst of it.

Her eyebrow raised in expectation once the kiss ended.

Seth took her hand again and pulled her back out on the rink.

"Yes, you are very lucky, Iowa." He continued. "But nowhere near as lucky as me."

[yes-perwallstedt]

The Wild have a matinee home game on my birthday so I was planning to make a day trip up to the cities as a treat, but my skating club has decided to put our winter show that day and skipping it is absolutely not an option unless I want to spend the next 8-9 months being guilt-tripped by a tiny Russian woman.

And Iowa’s on the road that weekend so I can’t even go see my local boys as a birthday treat 😔

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

I call them burn out studios. You can stuff a young person from Iowa in there for a few months while they try to make a career in fashion or theater or art or something and live the "New York City lifestyle!" For a year or so. But they're gonna get disillusioned real fast because you CANT do everything, you'll exhaust yourself, you're working constantly, for no pay, you're trying to do all the fun things constantly like you're on vacation, and then you come home to a tiny, boring , cramped studio that doesn't encourage growth or permanence (you can't buy bigger furniture if you need or want it,nonetheless have a partner, or a friend move in, and forget about having a kid) so you get tired. And you leave in a few years, ready for the next burnout. And of course most of your shit paycheck goes to this tiny studio.

It's a known thing in New York, because there is such a population of people who come here to "try it" who don't really intend on staying, so why make housing people can live in, when it's more important to just have a LOT of housing that turns over quickly. And it's one of the main things that contributes to the housing crisis where there isn't adequate housing for people who want to stay here, maybe have a family , nonetheless people who were BORN HERE and feel kicked out of their own home.

(and don't get me started on the Starter Family Apartments. They're also bad.)

But anyway, we get it. We're on islands, space is a premium, there's 9 million of us, we can't expect to live in huge houses in NYC (at least not by a subway! Though it does exist). But when you look at the square footage of a 1900s tenement apartment, and then look at your own apartment and compare the price...

I don’t think humans should be living in studio apartments or little one bedroom apartments you can barely turn around in. It’s like how the minimum tank size requirement for a betta fish is technically 2.5 gallons but you’re a monster if you put them in anything less than 5 gallons. I think people deserve at least one extra room in their house.

[nityarawal]

11/18/22

Afternoon Songs

Dosy-Doe Out The Door

Sitting At Home

Warm And Cozy

In My New Sherpa

Electric Fleece Blanket

Making The Cold Mountains

Seem Warmer

Drinking Pommegranite Juice

Holing Up

I Could Be Driving Hours

To Call SSI

Jump Thru Hoops

To Confirm I'm Hungry

And Need Cal Fresh

Still Of Course

Like Last Month 

When They Threatened

The Same Way

Got Their Urgent Letter

Left A Message Yesterday

It's Too Much

50 Billion

Living Below The Poverty Line

I See Your Issues America

I Witnessed Them 

Through Divorce

So I Can Aid

Speak Up

Where Are All The People

Fell Through The Cracks

Be A Witness

To #FreeBritney

And Millions Attacked

We Don't Want Your

#CareCourt

Your Medical Mistakes

2 Clark Attys

1 Judge Clark

And A Editor Couple

Owns Idyllwild Town 

Crier 

I Dated Andy Byrd Clark

When I Was 15

He Drove With Me

In My Red Alpha Romeo

Making My Permit Legal

He Never Slept With Me

He Was A Handsome

Smokey Eyed Model

Type From Bozeman

Montana

Big Boned And Blonde

Rugged

Divine

He Wrote Cartoons and Poetry For Illustrating Little

Birds Of Love

Nity-Bird He Called

The Character

Who Was Meant To 

Be Me

Tiny Tweetie

With Freckles

Andy Byrd Was My

Best Friend For Years

In College

Until He Vanished

In Florida Keys

He Stayed In Touch

For Years

Always Called

Modeling

Scubadiving

We Looked For Him

On Facebook

MUM

MIU Community

Have You Seen

Andy Byrd Clark

It's A Mystery

When He Was Dating

Devi I Met Him

He Asked Me Out

That Night

"But Is It OK With Her?"

I Asked

"Yes"- Was His Reply

"Because I Like You,"

Helped Me Clean Up 

Late Night Jacuzzi Party

He Lingered

To Ask Me Out

Gentlemanly-Like

Us

I Called Devi Just To Confirm

"Are You Sure?"

She Said She Had No 

Choice- "He Likes You,"

"OK We'll See What Happens,"

We Fell In Love

Nity-Byrd

And Andy-Byrd

Were so Happy We Flew

Mr. Hansen

My Drivers Ed Teacher

Could Never Catch Me

Breaking The Law

For I Had My 23 Year Old

Ken Doll

Andy Byrd

Planted By My Side

In Iowa Your Legal 

To Drive At 14

If You Have A Permit

And An Adult

In The Passenger Seat

Andy Byrd Was A Good

Alibi - My Ken Doll

No One Could Believe 

We Were So Lucky

We Fell Out 8 Months

Later After Snuggling

And Surviving Cold Sub-Zero Winter

A Stupid Fight Over A

Late Video On A Colf

Winters Night

Subzero

And My Reputation

On The Line

The Next Night

Andy Byrd Slept

With A Best Friend Vayya

I Guess 8 Months

Was Too Long

Too Wait

I Wore Sexy Mini Dresses

Electric Blue

Bought In Iowa City

At Catherine's Boutique

Latest Rage

Offset My Suntan Nicely

A Black Push Up Bra

And A Mermaid Blue

Swimsuit

Paddleball

He Wanted Me Back

He Slept With Another MSAE Sister

And I Could Only

Tease Him After That

Andy Byrd

My First Big Bird

Andy Bird Divine

Why'd You Have To Be A "Clark"

We're You Sent To Witchhunt

Divas

And Debutantes 

Of Fairfield Iowa

You Tripped For Years

Partied Hard

With The Bros

And Karate Boys Club

Dated The Prettiest

Petite Delicate

Foreigners

First Katya

A Russian New York

Belly Dancer

Pretty Gypsy With A Pierced Nose

Like Radha

Worked So Hard 

At The Cafe

No Time To Play

Krishna Eyes

Then Claudia

The Littlest

Barbie

Mini Glamour Gal 

Latina

From Dominica

You Ever Saw

She Had Perfect Bone

Structure

The Little Birds

Just Kept Getting Smaller

Until One Day

We Flew Off

And Now In My 40's

Am Flapping My

Wings On Twitter

Wondering What Happened

To Your Mom

Paula Clark

What Happened To Your 

Rellies In Montana 

And Why'd Monika's 

Sister Ildi Marry

Dr. Jason Clark 

Child Psychologist Off Match.com

Why'd A Fairfield Girl

From Budapest Hungary 

A Montessori Teacher

I Almost Hired

For "™" School

Why Was She Engaged 

To My Tween Boyfriend

Josha And Why'd

She Marry My Best Friend's

X Off Match.com

Dr. Jason Clark

Tests The Little People 

Why Didn't He Help

My Children Speak Up

And Why'd His Sister

Monika Marry My

Other Teen Love

Kelsey  Mullen

Why'd These Gals Witch Hunt

Us Like Communists

From College

Monika Tried To Set

Up Brotherly Haydn

Before Ildiko Went 

Off The Market

Haydy Said

"I Wish She Was More

Like Her Little Sister,"

Strange That He Would Go

Get Hunted Down

On Match.com

When He Was Once

Intuitive

And Avoided

A Fodor Gal

Monika Set Up

My X With Her Best Friend

Sonya Sweitch Goodwin

A Massage Therapist

From Texas

A Marine's Daughter

Doing Happy Endings

Also Going Through Divorce

Tried To Set Me Up 

With Her X Loser Husband

Keith

She Festered In My Family

Like Her Lacy Flat Chested

Nylon Tube Top Bra

In My Lexus Glovebox

Box with All My Toyota Receipts

From The Hit And Run

Khaki

Poly

Is That What She Seduced

Him With

Left In My Drawer

To Shock Me

Before Sending Pictures 

Of Her Tired Breasts To Darin

On My Drop Box

To Crash My Computer

System

He Liked Them

Is That Why Monika

And Ildiko Chased

Us From Iowa

To Encinitas

"When Your Karmas

Over- It's Over,"

My Mom Said

Monika Acted Surprised

Said She Didn't Know

About Her Best Friend

Sonya

And Sunil

Told Me Lots Of Lies

When They Came Out

With Vasectomy

And Boob Job

4 Months Later

Monika Seemed 

Surprised

Shocked

And I Bought

Her Honeyed Gaslighting

Because I wanted My

Sisters To Love Me

So That's The Saga

Of The Hungarian Sisters

Who Came Into My

Family

Duplicitous

Now Go 

That's The Story Of How

We Got Bulldozed

By Monika Fodor

And Her Family

Maybe Another Spy

Maybe Cambridge Analytica

Always Seemed She

Thought She Was In A Club

With My X

We Thought It Was European

But Maybe Something More

Post Apocalypse

Plea Bargains

For She Was The One

Of Many

That Dosy-Doed

Me Out The Door

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[folkpunkchicken]

The Day Before the Music Died

Journal Entry: Feb. 2, 1959

It was a cold winter morning as I sat in my seat waiting for the plane to take off. We had just played a show the previous day and we were up the rest of the night having trouble with our tour bus. As I sat there in that cramped plane, my back ached due to the seat being stiff and cold. We were all tired and ready for the tour to be over. The whole day has been one disaster after another and I know this may sound a little morbid, but quite frankly dying seemed more appealing right now rather than making it to our next show.

Buddy stopped scribbling notes down in his journal as he looked up and stared out the tiny plane window. He couldn't see anything but the soul-draining darkness of a dimly lit runway and the dauntingly long flight with barely anytime to sleep before their next destination. They had had a hell of a long night and at this point, they all wished that they could call it quits and go home.

Glancing over his shoulder were Valens and ol' Bopper passed out in the seats behind him. Picking up his pen and journal once again Buddy began jotting down some thoughts about last nights show.

I am so tired, but I can't sleep on plane rides. At least it's finally warm though and we're done dealing with that god damn tour bus.

That show was one of the coldest nights that we had played. We had arrived at the venue in Clear Lake, Iowa, tired, cold, and worn out from constant traveling. To be honest, my heart wasn't really in it that night, but we pulled ourselves together and got ready for the show anyways. That's show biz for ya'.

Surf Ballroom was actually really nice though, better than some of the places we've played recently. The room had a sort of classiness that made us feel more like theater musicians rather than a bunch of no-good rockstars playing that devil's rock n' roll music. It was fun. While we got ready for the show, I remember Ritchie and I were tuning our guitars and practicing a little bit when J.P. called out from across the dance floor holding a drink and a fat cigar. "Quit practicing so much, you're already big shots. Come have a drink and relax a little!"

We finally got everything set up and we were ready for sound check, or the "pre-show" as some of us called it jokingly, because, usually we went ahead and ran through most of our songs for that night plus jamming a little bit too.

After we were all set up, it was time to have a beer and relax for a minute before going out on stage again. Having downtime, seldom as it was is important to us because life on the road wasn't easy, not in the least bit. I mean sure it was fun, for a while, but after a while you wake up and you realize that your whole life is coming and going to different cities, setting up and then playing a show late into the night, then hitting the hay and waking up the next morning in another city ready to do it all over again. It was exhausting.

Eventually it came time to play the show and I have to say, as tired as we were the show rocked. From the minute that we opened with the first sing to the last song that we played it was a night filled with musical wonder. At least for us, and I hope it was the same for our fans. The music that night just felt somehow magical as if it just made your soul feel at home. We played with all our hearts, as if it'd be like our last show or something. It of course wasn't going to be. We still had to finish the tour. Our next show was going to be in Fargo N.D. Anyway, I guess I feel that if we walked away right now and that show in the Surf Ballroom in little ol' Clear Lake, Iowa was our last, well I think I'd be okay with that.

After the show had ended, I remember two boys running up to me. One of them said "Buddy, Buddy, Buddy. I want to be just like you some day." The other said that I was a hero. I feel bad that I don't remember either of their names, but it was sweet. We had packed up everything from the show and now it was time to hit the road.

Buddy set his pen down and let his journal fall on his lap as he slowly drifted off to sleep and to be at peace with his music.

Leading up to this point after the three rockstar icons got the tour bus packed and were ready to go abd get out of the freezing cold February winter their in the middle of nowhere Iowa, they were told by the driver that the heater on the bus was out. Tired and a little cranky Buddy spoke up for the gang and said a harsh "No! We are not taking this bus. I'll arrange for a plane to fly us."

They all boarded the flight not knowing that they were entering the final gates of life.

Surf Ballroom in little ol' Clear Lake, Iowa was indeed a memorable final show for Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and The Big Bopper, but it was only the beginning of an amazing journey of rock n' roll history that those three men had pioneered together.

R.I.P. Boys

[tinyhousecalling]

c.1900 351 Sq Ft Tiny Bungalow Close to Downtown Iowa City $95,000

c.1900 351 Sq Ft Tiny Bungalow Close to Downtown Iowa City $95,000

Quite possibly THE cutest & smallest little bungalow in Iowa City. This adorable little Bungalow comes with a rental permit. 910 Highland Ave, Iowa City, IA, 52240 $95,000 1 bed 1 bath 351 sq ft 2,280 sq ft lot Build date 1900 Google Map Property Listing Realtor: Cindy Clark Urban Acres Real Estate Related: 687 Sq Ft Cute Small House on 4.63 Acre Lot w/ Pond in Atlanta MI About This c.1900 351…

[aiweirdness]

Planet Earth From Above

Melbourne, Australia: home of kangaroos, botanical gardens, and a surreal monolith, jutting impossibly tall and narrow above its unassuming neighbors.

[images from a video by reddit user fulltimespy, in a successful completion of the Monolith Challenge]

This is the virtual Melbourne of Microsoft Flight Simulator 2020, where players are flocking to see the weird building and, naturally, land on its roof, before the game is patched and the monolith disappears.

How did this happen? Microsoft Flight Simulator 2020 uses AI to fill in building details from a combination of satellite images and crowdsourced data from Open Street Maps. And at one point, someone who was entering building height data for Melbourne made a typo, accidentally changing a building height of 2 stories to 212. Monoliths are gradually being discovered in other places as well.

Even barring typos, the task of reconstructing every building in the world from height data and satellite photos is really tough. A roof’s details might give clues about whether a structure is a historic villa or an office block, but it’s easy to make mistakes if, for example, you don’t know what the Washington Monument is.

[screenshot posted by Reddit user NightReaper3210]

Because a nondescript office building is a reasonable default guess given a square building pad and a many-story height, the AI will tend to populate the planet with them unless specifically told otherwise. The Statue of Liberty, the Taj Mahal, and the Eiffel Tower are all lavishly hand-modeled in 3D. But The Motherland Calls statue of Volgograd is a condo high-rise, Buckingham Palace is an apartment complex, the Leaning Tower of Pisa is a vertical concrete silo, and the Pyramid of the Sun is a nondescript warehouse with a hilarious tiny dome on its roof.

[screenshot, posted on reddit by l4adventure]

The AI is also making its best guesses when it comes to traffic patterns. It knew that this Boston street intersected a building somehow but didn’t know that the road passed through the building via tunnel. So it had the traffic drive up the side of the building.

Other terrain glitches force the traffic to do even weirder things. If the road is suddenly tilted vertically along the wall of a newly created canyon in northwest Iowa, the traffic will still drive on the road, just… sideways.

Water levels in particular seem prone to being incorrect, sometimes drastically so. The Pingualuit Impact Crater of northern Canada was apparently inverted by one of these glitches.

[image by reddit user NovaSilisko]

Bergen, Norway, has been transformed by this bug into canyonlike terrain, its buildings forced to adapt to the suddenly steep ground, their roofs rising like mushrooms for dozens of stories. It’s otherworldly, unrecognizable.

[screenshot by Mikael Privatby]

Greenland, on the other hand, is terrifying. The available terrain and satellite data is less precise, so pixels are sometimes visible as square-edged neighborhood-sized patches of gravel. The far north is marked by 20,000 foot ice walls, improbable ice spikes, and strange shimmering rifts. The geographic North Pole itself is unreachable; players report that any attempt to descend below 2,000 feet results in the player being rocketed skyward by a strange repulsion force.

[20,000 foot ice wall image: reddit user unrelentingdespair]

[screenshot near the north pole: reddit user Feydakin_G]

Some Microsoft Flight Simulator 2020 players are thrilled with the unusual terrain, while others are disappointed when the photorealism is broken, and/or when their city’s distinctive architecture and most beloved landmarks are replaced by nondescript concrete jungle. The AI itself isn’t going to be able to reconstruct the world’s weirdness from satellite photos, so already people are crowdsourcing hand-modeled landmarks. You can install an add-on to convert Stonehenge, for example, from a miniature flattened Spinal Tap version to a full-sized 3D model.

As the developers tweak their algorithms and fix other things by hand, slowly the weirdness will be ironed out, the rivers and lakes set back in their beds, the statues restored to their detailed glory. Many will be disappointed when it happens - I’ll particularly miss the Melbourne Monolith. It would be nice to have a weirdness slider that goes from normal to Ragnarok, amplifying terrain chaos, perhaps adding the occasional floating mountain range or lava lake.

Subscribers get bonus content: I prompted GPT-3 to write an Atlas Obscura entry for the Melbourne Monolith. It added entries for a few other Melbourne landmarks, like the Artificial Gardens of Loria and The Very Pickled Centurion (did you know that the Lost Bar, like the Australian rules football lounge, is 10,000 light years away from the city it's located in?)

[aqueducts of Denali, screenshot by daveonthenet]

My book on AI, You Look Like a Thing and I Love You: How Artificial Intelligence Works and Why it’s Making the World a Weirder Place, is available wherever books are sold: Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

[tinyhomesofiowa]

The Future of Housing: Trend Toward ADUs and Tiny Home Living in Iowa 

People are moving towards Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) as an alternative type of housing. You can explore the world of tiny homes in Iowa with many different floor plans. You can also customize the space with the help of our design experts. 

In this blog, we will discuss ADU's advantages and share some insights into floor plans for tiny homes in Iowa City.  

What are ADUs?  

ADU stands for Accessory Dwelling Units which are small homes built right on the same property as the primary residence. These units can be detached, or attached to the main house in the basement, or even a garage conversion.

Top Benefits of ADUs  

Affordable: As compared to traditional single-family houses, Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) are very cost-effective. They can be used as guest houses, for rental properties, or to house aging parents in a close and safe home.  

Highly Sustainable: Tiny homes are also considered cleaner and more sustainable for the environment, as they do not use as many resources.

Why a Design-Build Construction Company?  

When it comes to building ADUs or tiny homes, you need to hire a design and build construction company to get the desired results. They know the right way to execute the plan and make it easy to go through the planning, and construction process.

Managed Process: A design-build company manages both the design and construction parts of the project. Here you must deal with one party with clear communication and the process will be well managed.  

Cost Efficiency: There is a scope for saving money by going through a design-build firm.  They are also good at budget handling and ensure to complete your home within the given budget.    

Highly Experienced: When it comes to design-build companies, they are experienced and put that expertise into your project. They also know the local regulations related to construction that help you in the long term.   

Tiny Homes in Iowa City 

The city of Iowa City is very favorable towards tiny homes and encourages people to build them on their property, by making the zoning and permit process much easier and faster.

Types of Tiny House Floor Plans in Iowa 

There should be many floor plan options to build your tiny home. Here are some trending options in tiny house floor plans Iowa that you can select for your dream house. 

The Studio Plan: It is the best layout for people who like open space concepts. There will be a large room including space for living, dining, bathroom, sleeping, and kitchen.  

One and two Bedrooms: There are a few different options for one and two bedroom ADU’s. It really depends on who will be living there and the orientation of the ADU for your yard.

Custom Design: Many ADU builders Iowa also offer custom design services which are affordable and able to create a floor plan to accommodate your specific requirements.  

Conclusion 

When it comes to building an ADU for your family, trust the builders of Tiny Homes of Iowa. We are a professional design-build construction company that will make your dream project into reality. Reach out to Tiny Homes of Iowa today!

[bearsinpotatosacks]

The crew visit each other's home towns:

Jim-

They visit Iowa briefly, since there's still some (a lot) pain about there

They do see the first house he had after running away at 18

And the motorbike he stole and later crashed a year later

And a field near a river full of wildflowers that was his safe place

Uhura-

She lived in many places in Kenya in her life (because of the different schools she went to)

But she lived in Nairobi the longest

She takes them to some touristy places and some hidden gems

They have to be told to leave the museum because it's past closing time and they're all history nerds

She also shows them a few restaurants she still adores and plenty of places where they understand why she fell in love with learning languages and about cultures

Chekov-

There are plenty of complaints over the cold

But after bundling up they explore

Chekov is exploring a lot too, because despite how well versed he is in his country's history, he was studying so much as a kid he never truly explored the city

They go for long walks around the city and even get a boat out for a day

But they also visit his mother's grave, somewhere he hadn't visited since her funeral in 2249

Scotty-

He too never had a permanent home for too long as a kid, because his parents' jobs meant they had to move around

But he went to University in Aberdeen, and that's where his grandparents live, so they explore Aberdeen

They go to a few museums and gardens, and definitely a few castles where Jim tries not to fall in love too much with the idea of being a knight to Spock

They also see the place where he came up with the Aberdeen solution and realise even more that Scotty is really skilled because, let's just say, he didn't exactly have Starfleet level equipment to work with (he was 15)

They also go for afternoon tea

Scotty gets loads of sandwiches and is happy

Bones-

The first day is difficult

Not too difficult, he visited Georgia with Jim to clean up his apartment and look for a nice rural ranch style house

He takes them peach picking and spends a day making loads of recipes with them

They also meet the McCoys and realise that Bones truly comes from a sweet, close, accepting Southern family

They also go riding in a local forest

Spock takes some convincing to go because he's terrified of horses

It does create some peace about Georgia though and Bones becomes even more southern due to the troubles being settled

Sulu-

Sulu was raised in San Francisco (where all the crew lived at some point)

So they don't think they can really "discover" it

But Sulu proves them wrong

They meet up with Ben and Demora

They visit his childhood home, go to some botanical gardens and visit the racetrack where he realised his talent for being a pilot/driver

Sulu shows them all the tiny, backstreet restaurants that he loves, and they see how at home he is there, much more than any of them were

Spock-

He gets kinda sad after they visit everyone's childhood homes

Because, you know, his entire planet was destroyed

But he does show them New Vulcan and takes them to various places he's visited that feel like home

And the crew try to make the Enterprise feel like more home

They have group dinners and parties and dance battles and want to show him that they're his family and can be his home

He gratefully accepts

Wow, that got a bit sappy at the end, huh? I hope you enjoyed this, I really like creating stuff for the characters' lives before they met and pre-Starfleet years. If anyone has any of their own ideas I'd love to hear them!

[pinervista]

Shine song buddy

He added, “But I’d spend the night at his house, and lots of times he’d spend the night at mine. But whereas others preferred Grand Ole Opry-type country music, Buddy and I liked to listen to rhythm ‘n’ blues. We being Buddy, me, Jack Neil and Don Guess. “Also, Buddy was kind of a smart aleck, and I liked that. He had loads of charisma, and always went all out. “One reason I was drawn to Buddy,” said Allison, “was because he practiced like he was in concert. He has been inducted into the Musicians Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville, and, in 2012, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame would correct its 1986 mistake and induct the Crickets, including Allison, to join Buddy Holly. Allison had become interested in drums as a fifth grader, never knowing his style would later be studied. Holly and Allison had written the song in Allison’s tiny bedroom, which can be toured today at the Allison home, located next to the Buddy Holly Center.Īllison, 79, mentioned this week from his 50-acre Tennessee farm that he met Holly at J.T. He later traveled with Allison, Mauldin and Sullivan to Petty’s studio in Clovis, where they recorded a 1957 demo of “That’ll Be the Day,” this time with Holly playing lead guitar. Holly was discouraged by early sessions with a country producer in Nashville. Curtis recalled this week that Holly, Allison and Mauldin “met in Clovis and decided to continue as a three-piece.�� When the latter decided he did not want to tour, Petty suggested that Holly hire Sonny Curtis as a replacement. The original two guitarists were Holly and rhythm guitarist Niki Sullivan. Unlike most in that era, he wrote, recorded and produced his own material - and he was among the first musicians inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1986. He is regarded as the artist who defined the traditional band lineup for rock ‘n’ roll: two guitars, bass and drums. He didn’t want to go, but he had to make some money.”ĭespite his comparatively short career, Holly influenced the music industry. Jennings told Rolling Stone magazine in 1973, “The only reason Buddy went on that tour was because he was broke. As Allison and Mauldin were unavailable, Holly hired drummer Carl Bunch, guitarist Allsup and bass player Jennings as his backing band. With Holly having received no royalty payments from producer Petty, Holly joined the Winter Dance Party because he needed a paycheck. Allison and Mauldin, joined by Sonny Curtis, were working as the Crickets at Norman Petty’s recording studio in Clovis, N.M. 15, 1958 - settled in New York City, Holly was using his own name. While Holly and his newlywed wife, Maria Elena - married on Aug. Holly had temporarily separated from the original Crickets: best friend Jerry “J.I.” Allison on drums, and standup bassist Joe B. 3, 1959, became known as “the day the music died.” It wasn’t until Don McLean released “American Pie” in 1972 that Feb. Holly’s drummer, Carl Bunch, was left behind in Wisconsin, hospitalized for frostbite experienced on the freezing bus. Tommy Allsup lost a coin flip with Valens for the remaining seat. Waylon Jennings gave his seat to the Big Bopper, who had the flu. Holly’s two remaining band members did not board the plane. The destination for the plane, a Beechcraft Bonanza, was Fargo, N.D., the nearest airport to Moorhead. Unable to arrive at Clear Lake’s Surf Ballroom until 6 p.m., Holly decided to charter a plane for his band rather than ride the same bus 500 more miles the next day for a concert in Moorhead, Minn. 2, 1959, 350 miles away, in Clear Lake, Iowa. It was a school bus and we slept on the luggage racks, and it (the bus) kept breaking down.”Īmong those traveling on the bus: Holly and his three-piece tour band, and also Valens, The Big Bopper and Dion & The Belmonts. With temperatures consistently dipping below zero, the heating system in the bus did not work.ĭion DiMucci, leader of Dion & The Belmonts, was quoted in /stories: “It was a rough winter, and we didn’t have those beautiful luxury touring buses. Riding in the bus between concert sites was considered torture. Shows were very well supported, but travel conditions were miserable. The 1959 tour was called the Winter Dance Party. Witcher, recently promoted to assistant city manager, had been managing director of the Buddy Holly Center and other cultural facilities.īober added she felt a need to take over the Saturday tour of Holly landmarks after the 2011 death of Holly historian Bill Griggs. 3 fell on a Super Bowl Sunday, there was a sum total of 10 people at the Buddy Holly Center, and five of them were staff.” “Brooke (Witcher) told me the last time that Feb.

[navegandoaciegas]

Sunshine Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, soft!Bucky, mentions of injury (no graphic descriptions), 3.6k words

Summary: You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish he wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

Two years ago you were supposed to enjoy a solo road trip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invited himself along. Now you’re forced back to New York, and your boyfriend is ready to surprise you once again.

A/N: Bucky’s POV. Sequel to I love my baby to death, but I suppose you could read it on its own. As always forgive any mistakes, English is my third language.

Had to repost this cause it didn’t show up in the tags, hopefully this time it will

“I swear Buck, if I see one more damn corn plant I’m losing it. I am this close” you say pinching your thumb and pointer finger real close “to a mental breakdown. I’m never eating corn again, mark my words. No corn flakes, no corn on the cobble, no nothing. I’m done.”

“We’re in Iowa, in the middle of the corn belt, I don’t know what you were expecting.” he replies, slightly amused by your little outburst and sour mood.

“Well, clearly not ending up on the set of Children of the corn.” you groan, getting back to sulking in the passenger’s seat, seething at the fields that are only a scapegoat to the real problem.

You’d been merrily skiing in Montana when his skis got somehow tangled with yours and he tumbled down on you, dragging you down the slope. Hadn’t you injured yourself, rolling in the snow like it only ever happens in cartoons would have been pretty comical.

“What?” you screech, almost jumping off the stretcher and grimacing in pain when your left foot hits the metal poles at the side. “No. It’s just pain, I’m sure it will go away, right? I mean I was an Avenger, I’ve suffered worse than a fall.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but knee surgery will be necessary, the MRI here shows you’ve torn your ACL and from the looks of it, your left knee was already damaged badly, numerous times at that, probably a result of your time on the field.”

“I can’t, I can’t just get surgery, we’re miles away from home and I-”

You’re almost sobbing and Bucky feels like shit because he’s the reason for all this and all he can do now is pat your back reassuringly.

“Given the extent of the damage, I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

“How long is the recovery time?” he asks, voice unsure.

“Well, it’s my knowledge she’s not an enhanced individual, so like any average human it will take anywhere from 6 to 9 months to recover fully. In the meantime, no more hikes or sports.”

Bucky inhales a sharp breath. Six to nine months. No more hikes. Surely you’ll have to go back to New York.

God, you are so going to break up with him.

Turns out you didn’t dump him in Montana, you didn’t abandon him in one of those auto stops along Interstate 90 in South Dakota, and you don’t seem to want to break up with him amidst the green fields of Iowa, but still, he knows he will drive through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate, driving the same route you did as friends two years ago, along Interstate 80 headed East instead of West, only this time he’s not hoping to be more than the annoying old man who invited himself on your trip; he’s your boyfriend now, but maybe not for long.

“You know, you really are dramatic.” you say in a teasing tone, “I’m not going to break up with you, stop thinking about that, it was an accident, ‘s not like you beat me.”

“I know, I’m just sorry because you’re in pain and it’s my fault and now we have to get back home but I know you wanted to stay more and I did too and if I didn’t-” he’s rambling, and your place your hand on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly, offering him one of those sweet smiles he dies for.

“Buck, it’s okay” you interrupt his word vomit “like I said a million times before, it was an accident, it’s going to be fine I promise. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise with my mood, I swear I’m just pissed at all this damn corn. We’re never going to a maze again, by the way.” That gets a laugh out of him, and he loves you even more because you’re always there to lift his spirits. “I’m dreading these next months, the surgery, physiotherapy and all, but I know you’re there for me, yes?”

He nods, teary eyed, and you continue, “And I can’t lie, it’s been a while, I’m kind of excited to see everyone again, I mean except for Sam of course,” you say, as if he didn’t “live rent free in your head”, like Sam himself put it, “Jesus that man, how many of our trips has he invited himself on? I’ve lost count. ‘Member when we found him waiting for us in Phoenix? Fuckin’ weirdo.”

You both chuckle at the memory of Sam in your motel room, waiting on your bed with crossed arms like a disappointed parent, pissed off because you hadn’t called in a week and he was worried sick that something may have happened to you, a deadly sniper, and him, the Winter fuckin’ Soldier. Truth is, Bucky was so excited about your new relationship that he rarely let you leave the bed when you were in your room, and when you did you were in no condition to Facetime anyone, with your smudged mascara and swollen lips.

“I’ve heard Clint will come visit us with Laura and the kids. Nathaniel must be so big now.” you add, your eyes glazed over as you think of the little boy who was named after your Natasha.

“God, Morgan is probably all grown up.” he muses, a tinge of sadness in his voice. You squeeze his thigh again. “And the spider kid too, he’s a grown man now.”

“That he is.” you chuckle, “But to me he’ll always be the boy in the red spanx who knocked us on our asses in Berlin.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the memory, and you both fall in a comfortable silence. Now that he’s not consumed by fear anymore, Bucky kind of agrees with you that all this green is, in fact, nauseating.

“You know what, no more popcorn either.”

“Deal.”

-

A year and something ago

Arizona

“Can you believe there’s a city in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences? We should totally go and visit just for the hell of it, sounds like the type of place Steve Rogers should have been born into.” you state with all the seriousness in the world, and he snorts because after all this time you still haven’t found it in yourself to stop mocking Steve’s righteousness.

You’re walking ahead of him and he’s so distracted by your tiny denim shorts that he, the master of stealth, almost trips over a boulder. You’re always pretty but tonight, illuminated by the orange sky of Arizona, you look like a dream. And you’re so happy, snapping photos at everything you see, that even if Bucky hates the desert and the heat makes him uncomfortable, he won’t tell you, because the look on your face makes it all worth it.

“Baby, look at this big boy here, he’s like 20 feet tall. Oh my god, he’s so cute and beefy, just like you.” you gush at one of the giant cactuses of Saguaro National Park.

He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

All he sees are green spiky motherfuckers that he’s accidentally hurt himself with more times that he’d like to admit in all those damn ‘hikes’ you like so much, but to you cactuses are the most beautiful sight in the word. He genuinely does not see the appeal, but he understands now how you feel when he talks about all his ‘nerd shit’, as you call it.

“I’m cuter.” he says frowning.

“Of course you are.”

For some reason you don’t sound convincing at all.

-

It’s only spring but here in Tucson the temperature is 85 degrees today and he’s sweating buckets underneath the long sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing to conceal his vibranium arm. He’s long past the time when he was forced to hide from authorities or the general public’s judgement, but still he doesn’t want to be recognized and attract attention. He doesn’t do well with crowds, and he doesn’t understand how you can be so calm and collected when people stare at you and ask for photographs while you’re minding your own business.

As soon as you get back to the motel you’re staying at he takes off his soaked shirt, not caring that the air conditioning is probably going to end his old ass.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask, scowling as you analyze the skin around his prosthetic.

He shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me James.”

You only call him that when he’s in big trouble. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose: why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the damn time? “It’s nothing sweetheart, just sometimes the skin becomes flared when it’s too hot.”

“Nothing?” you shrill, throwing your hands around animatedly, “Nothing? Bucky your whole shoulder is super red and irritated, don’t act like it’s normal. We’ve been in the sun for hours, for days really, why didn’t you tell me anything? I would have driven us back here immediately. Does it hurt?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, you liked it so much there. And no, it only itches a little.”

Your eyes soften and you move to cup his face in your hands, looking at him with so much love that he feels himself melt away into a puddle, “Baby you don’t need to do that, you know I care more about you than anything else.”

“Even more than the cactuses?”

“Well, now you’re asking too much of me.”

He snorts and playfully hits your arm, then he falls back on the bed and drags you down with him. You stay cuddled like that for a while before you pull back to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate you doing this for me Buck, but you don’t ever need to sacrifice your own comfort for me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you looked so happy.”

“Don’t be, and I’m always happy with you, I promise.”

“I’m always happy too.”

“We’re such saps. Gross. Anyways, guess where we’re going next?” you ask him cheerfully, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

“The plan was New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana, right?” he frowns. You’d made plans together ages ago and you were so excited about visiting Texas of all places for God knows what reason. He’s predicted already that he won’t stand the suffocating, humid heat of that whole area. At least Arizona was dry as hell.

You on the other hand, everyday he’s become more aware of how much of a lizard you are, seeking the sun and walking around in the scorching heat not even breaking a sweat.

“Guess again baby boy, we’re going straight to Oregon. I mean, it's not Alaska but it’s not as hot as the desert here, right?

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to overheat?” you state like it’s obvious, rolling your eyes, “We’ll do New Mexico and the rest next fall, and now Oregon and Washington because it’s a little cooler there. So what do you say?” You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Princess I appreciate you doing this for me, but I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to change plans for me, this is your road trip.”

“No you won’t Buck, you’re not doing good and I don’t ever want to see you suffer, you understand? By the time we get to Texas it will be summer and you won’t stand it, it’s better if we visit when it’s colder.”

He smiles softly. He knows he’d do the same for you. “Then Oregon it is.”

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom to shower, “Oh, and baby?” you call out,  peeking your head from behind the door, “This is your road trip too, never forget that.”

-

Oregon

“Why does Thor get to have places named after him and we don’t? We were Avengers too.”

“But are we norse gods?”

“I mean, not yet, but I definitely deserve some nature’s wonder, or at least a star, to be named after me.”

“I’ll call WMO and get them to name a hurricane after you, princess. It seems more fitting.”

“Asshole.”

You’d been camping somewhere in Oregon’s wilderness when he came up with the idea of visiting all of the State’s so called seven wonders, starting from Thor’s Well on the Coast and ending in Mount Hood near Portland. You took a thousand photos of each attraction and sent a video of the water seemingly draining inside the famous well to the God himself, who enthusiastically expressed his appreciation.

Bucky’s cherished every minute of it, from the hot springs of Crater Lake to the chillier temperatures at night that force you to snuggle closer to him to warm up.

You’re in Portland now, and you’re thoroughly enjoying it, but what’s new about that? You’re always so full of life, so genuinely excited about everything the world has to offer that he’d be worried if you weren’t having the time of your life as you usually are.

He likes the city too, which is saying a lot.

“Blueberries are the superior berry and that’s the hill I’m willing to die on.”

You’ve been eating your way through Portland for weeks, and you’ve been discussing pies for a solid thirty minutes now. It’s raining outside and you’re cooped up in a small pie shop, eating more than an average human can and receiving weird looks from the waitress as you tell her to ‘keep ‘em coming’.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong princess,” he states with a stuffed mouth just for the sake of aggravating you to no end, “blackberries are just so much better.”

It works as you grimace in disgust, both at his statement and his manners.

He’s found out you are weirdly opinionated when it comes to pies: pecan pies are an abomination, pumpkin doesn’t belong in dessert, lemon pie and key lime pie are only acceptable if someone’s grandma is kindly offering them to you, rhubarb pie without strawberries is a threat to mankind and cherry and blueberry pies are the absolute best. Apple pie is too bland to even take the time to discuss it, although the taste is likeable enough.

He on the other hand likes anything pie and anything sweet. And anything that gets a rise out of you.

“Please Buck, this isn’t even a blackberry pie, it’s some sort of inbred experiment that turned out kinda right.”

He shushes you, barely holding back a laugh when he sees the waiter side eyeing you as you disrespect one of Oregon’s most famous dishes, “First of all, it’s called marionberry and it’s a type of blackberry. And second, keep it down unless you want us to be kicked out, you’re offending a whole state.”

“Sorry.” you shrug, “But blueberry tartness level is where I draw the line, anything more than that is unacceptable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re still a child and haven’t developed adult taste buds yet baby.” He does love his senior citizen card a bit too much.

This earns him a kick under the table and a scowl. “Stop it, grandpa.” you groan.

He grins and digs in your slice of marionberry pie. You resume to people watching.

God, he loves Oregon. And he loves you.

He really is a sap.

-

Wyoming

Washington was nice enough. You’ve taken him bar crawling most nights, and all of them have ended with him giving you a piggyback ride, per your request, back to the hotel room you were staying at.

It takes 13 hours to drive from Seattle to Yellowstone and you’ve driven all the way. You refused to disclose the destination of the trip and he’s fallen asleep the last 3 hours in the car. He’d mentioned he wanted to see the geysers somewhere in Pennsylvania two years ago and you remembered and took him.

Bucky couldn’t be happier.

He’s still describing the constellations above you when you fall asleep, and he’s so absorbed by the sky that he doesn’t notice until your head falls on his shoulder and he hears your soft snores.

He picks you up bridal style and takes you back to the fancy tent he bought on a whim in Ohio after you both slept in the SUV and woke up with major back and neck pain. He smiles as he removes your makeup with a wipe and does your skincare just the way you taught him, and admires your relaxed state.

He grazes your pretty face with his vibranium fingers, something so unimaginable to him before he met you, as he never thought his arm could bring anything other than pain.

Back when he was a semi stable 100 year old man thrust in another fight yet again, he hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for you, believing he was only attracted to your beauty and youth. He hadn’t seen the way your smile lights up a whole room, nor the way you listen, truly listen, to anyone who may have anything to tell you, without ever judging them. He hadn’t witness your kindness and patience, let alone experienced them on his own skin. He hadn’t been lucky enough to watch you feed bird seed to the ducks of every pond of the country, or try to rescue a cat from a rooftop and almost falling off to save it.

Then Sam told him you were leaving and he felt like the word was collapsing on him. He’d found the sunlight and he never wanted to be without it.

Now he’s seen it all, all the little things that make you who you are, including your flaws, and he loves you not regardless of them, nor in spite of them, but because even your worst imperfections make you… you.

Bucky doesn’t know if meeting you was a way for the universe to fix all the wrongs that have been done to him, a sort of payback for all the shit he’s been put through, but in case it is, then he’s got no objections. And maybe he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you, but he’s a selfish man, and now that his sunshine girl is with him he never wants to plunge back into the the darkness ever again.

He tucks you both under the sleeping bag and snuggles next to you.

“Buck?” you mumble in a haze, tugging at his t-shirt, “Love you.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but his supersoldier hearing allows him to pick it up. He kisses the crown of your hair as he caresses your back.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He wants to spend the rest of his time on Earth proving you how much.

-

New York

6 months later

The doctor wasn’t lying when she warned you that recovery would take 6 to 9 months.

You said the aftermath of the operation hurt like a bitch and that physiotherapy hurt even more. Today’s your last session and Bucky is glad about it for many reasons, like how you’re not in pain anymore for starters, and maybe because of how annoyingly fun, smart and hot your therapist is. Not like he’d ever admit it to you.

“Jesus,” you groan, “he turned me inside out like a sock, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Sounds fun.” he deadpans.

“Someone’s jealous of the doctor?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“‘M not. He’s not all that.” he mumbles, blushing like a school boy.

You snort and drawl a ‘sure’. He sends you his best death glare.

“Whatever. I hope you don’t mind if we take a stop before going home.” he announces, helping you into the car. His palms feel clammy and he’s sweating despite the chilly winds of New York’s fall.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“Actually, that’s kind of a surprise, you’ll see.”

You beam at his words; he knows you love surprises and he hopes you’re going to like this one.

----

You look radiant as you lie on the blanket he’s spread on the grass, surrounded by colorful foliage. You’re sipping some of your favorite wine and nibbling on crackers as you admire a flock of birds migrating south in the sky.

You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish we wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

He’s prepared a long, passionate speech to tell you how much he loves you, of all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better and of all the reasons why he’d be a good husband.

But when you look at him with those bright eyes and beaming smile, he can barely remember his own name. He drops on one knee and holds the box out with shaky hands.

“Marry me, please.”

----

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, don’t be shy, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲

[sweetdreamsjeff]

A Meeting of Mythologies

Guitarist and singer Jeff Buckley was a budding superstar. He died in Memphis in May 1997 at age 30. This is his story.

by Danielle Costello

April 3, 2017

In the fall of 1997, I spent an evening with my older brother traversing New York City’s Lower East Side, searching for the spirit of Jeff Buckley. Our intended altar was Sin-é, a tiny bar-cum-performance space that was once a muse to the late singer with the unforgettable falsetto and a knack for colorful asides. A few wrong turns instead landed us in the right place, called 2A, where a Buckley intimate was keeping bar. Tom the bartender and my brother stayed in deep conversation while the hours and customers fell away.

Nine years later, my brother and I found ourselves face to face with another Buckley intimate: Midtown Memphis. I was new in town, moving into a guesthouse a few blocks from Rembert where Buckley had lived in the spring of 1997 while working on a follow-up to his first (and wildly successful) 1994 album release, Grace.

In the music world, Jeff Buckley had all the right stuff for stardom: a critically acclaimed album, respect from industry insiders, heartthrob looks, and mystique. The industry first took notice when he stunned the audience with his unforgettable vocal chops at a tribute concert for his folk-singer father, Tim Buckley, who abandoned him early in life and died of a drug overdose two months after their first meeting. 

Jeff Buckley left a mark on Memphis that has been somewhat tainted by media accounts of the evening of May 29, 1997, when he drowned after wading into the Memphis harbor for a late-night swim. But today, nearly 20 years after his death, recollections from friends and acquaintances show that his time in Memphis was more than just a tragic ending. It was about an artist and a friend living life authentically in a city that knows more than a bit about music. And lots about tragedy.

As described in the book 1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die: A Listener’s Life List, “Buckley struck some admirers as a rock god a lá those of the mystical late 1960s, a singer forever in search of unattainable ecstasy. At the same time, he could sound like a tortured Sylvia Plath type, desperate to convey a particular depth of feeling. He could wail like an opera singer nearing the big final scene, and create extemporaneous themes like a jazz player.”

Jeff Buckley’s first Memphis moment wasn’t even in Tennessee; it was in Iowa, fall of 1994, where his band headlined a show with Memphis indie hard rockers, the Grifters. Neither group had ever heard of the other, but proximity and pre-show beers would signify the beginning of a friendship. Although affinity among touring bands isn’t uncommon, this relationship began with a typical mutual creative admiration that grew into real-life affection, the latter poignantly summed up by Grifters bassist Tripp Lamkins’ recent comment: “I miss him all the time.”

At the end of that fall 1994 tour, the Grifters would reunite with Buckley at the former South End downtown. Still largely an unknown, the singer drew a small crowd, mostly due to the Grifters’ efforts to rally support for their new friend. The following year, Buckley would land in Memphis again, this time with a big crowd at the New Daisy Theatre on Beale Street. Thanks to major-label backing — Grace, his first studio album, was making the rounds on radio stations across the country — he was quickly gaining celebrity, touring the world and capturing admirers with a vocal presence as commanding as the Mississippi River itself.

University of Memphis sophomore Emily Helming was in the front row at the Daisy that night, having been a fan since discovering Buckley on the radio in her home state of Oregon. With one last beer for courage, she decided to find her way to the tour bus to thank the man whose live performance had blown her away.

“That’s a great thing about Memphis — you can get up close with people you couldn’t elsewhere,” Helming remembered on a call between my home in West Virginia and hers in New York City. It’s true. During my five years in Memphis, I played taxi driver for Tommy Ramone; shared a table at Wild Bill’s with Samuel L. Jackson; made small talk with Luke Perry in the lunch line; and told Kate Beckinsale that, yes, she could give my dog a piece of chicken. Memphis has time and space for characters, not celebrities. It’s an endearing indifference.

As for getting that chance to extend flattery to Jeff Buckley, Emily Helming got a dose of character instead. While she talked with his bandmates near the bus, he descended its steps and addressed her without saying hello.

“You’re the vanilla girl. I smelled you on stage.” As quickly as he interrupted the conversation, Buckley walked away. He wasn’t rude, Helming pointed out. He was just there and gone. Doing what came naturally. Unbeknownst to Buckley, he was channeling the city of Memphis itself. 

Rolling Stone magazine named Buckley’s Grace number 303 of the “500 Greatest Albums of All Time,” saying, “Buckley had a voice like an oversexed angel, and the songs here shimmer and twist. The fierce rocker ‘Eternal Life’ up-ends Led Zeppelin’s take on the blues while honoring it: Instead of a hellhound on his trail, Buckley, who drowned in 1997, evokes immortality bearing down on him.” He was also listed as number 39 among the magazine’s “100 Greatest Singers of All Time.” 

Like Jeff Buckley, I had a small taste of Memphis before making it my home, in the form of a weekend trip with a friend. Not long after we exited Sam Cooper, my preconceived ideas and reality collided, and kept at it for the entire weekend. It was the slow drip of Midtown, not the gush of Beale. It was accents whose velocity left Southern drawl in the dust. It was a barista who offered us tofu pie instead of pecan in a quiet Midtown district kept barely alive, not by the smell of barbecue and the sound of live music, but by a bead shop, a bike shop, and a pizza joint called a café. Unlike New York City or Los Angeles, Memphis doesn’t deliver. It will leave you underwhelmed — and wanting more.

When I made Memphis home in 2006, I learned the complicated life cycle of Overton Square and discovered big rocks at Mud Island that would allow me closer to the river. I found theater in fast-talking coffee shop characters and had love affairs with pimento cheese sandwiches. I learned that everyone, and everywhere, in Midtown has a story — not least the well-known panhandlers whose yarns, though not entirely inspiring, get credit for effort beyond, “Spare some change?”

I learned that Memphis doesn’t have change to spare. Decades of strife — yellow fever, deaths of American icons, racial discord, economic despair, and violent crime — had given way to trickling evolution, Memphis-style. Here, growth happens “only in ways that make sense,” says one of the city’s brightest offerings, producer-director Morgan Jon Fox.

Fox’s career could easily take him to New York or Los Angeles, yet leaving hasn’t been on his radar because he sees Memphis as “a place where soul seeps from the cracks in the concrete and overgrown parking lots. Here in Memphis, we have a community. We pride ourselves on the grit and grind attitude of us against the world. There’s nothing clean and safe about the art that’s made here.”

Fox’s sentiments are echoed by another Memphis success story, writer-director-producer Robert Gordon, who literally wrote the book on creative culture in his hometown, It Came From Memphis: “You can come here and be a star or amount to nothing; either way it’ll have no impact on the greater community.”

“Memphis allows you a great freedom,” says Gordon. “You don’t encounter a world of agents and publicists and managers — there’s not that pressure. The expectations, in fact, are low. The edge where artists live here is wide. You work at your own pace, you develop in public as much as you want, then you take it somewhere to sell — either in a van with a guitar, or to one of the cities of industry, or from your bedroom to the internet. We are a city for creatives.” 

In the same way Buckley’s vocal stylings varied, so too did his guitar playing. Through the years, his style ranged from reggae and funk to rock and grunge, from jazz and country to the guitar-picking style showcased in his cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” a track that became one of his most well-known recordings. His version of the song was inducted into the Library of Congress’ National Recording Registry in 2014.

Expand



DAN BALL

Unlike other cities that attract the so-called creative class, Memphis isn’t big on consequences. Rent is relatively cheap, and starting over is the currency of creativity, which runs the gamut: music, film, TV, food, theater, writing, photography. Newcomers and natives alike have equal opportunity to climb or linger, to seek or simmer, to do it their way. After living in small towns and big cities like New York City and South Beach, I myself eventually pressed the thumbtack into the far left corner of Tennessee because why not, where else? Every writer should be Southern for a little while.

Buckley’s bartender friend Tom Clarke, whom I tracked down on an email trail through three states, said Jeff had only planned to be in Memphis for a little while, too. Former Memphian Joey Pegram emailed me from China, recalling interactions with the star who “could just be himself and hang out and people treated him like one of the gang.”

If Buckley wanted a break from the pressure of making art in New York City, he found it in the Bluff City. The Grifters’ Tripp Lamkins says of his friend, “Jeff was kind of how you imagine he’d be.” Hypercreative. Moody. Shy. Witty. He “radiated at a high frequency,” says former NYC roommate Joe Murphy, who coincidentally became a Memphian himself long after his friend’s time here.

As a marvel of the public eye, Buckley met expectations. Here’s the guy who did a wicked Cher impression; who’d share morning coffee at Rockopolis, aka the apartment shared by Tripp Lamkins and Lucero’s Roy Berry across from Shangri-La Records; who paid out of his own pocket for the Grifters to fly to Australia when their label, indie powerhouse SubPop, wasn’t keen on the expenses. Buckley was like any human: multidimensional. Observers saw the obvious, and intimates discovered the depth. It was the Grifters, after all, who introduced Buckley to Memphis, and Memphis to Buckley. Among his friends and acquaintances, there was a consensus: He felt at home in a city where he was treated as a friend more than a spectacle.

A drummer by trade, Joey Pegram recalls running into Buckley one afternoon, hanging out on a patio with friends in Cooper-Young. The group walked a few blocks to play music at a friend’s practice space at Plan B gallery, formerly an industrial bakery no one remembers. For Pegram, the highlight of his acquaintance with Jeff Buckley was that jam session, where the two switched instruments and Buckley’s facility on the drums matched his comfort in a big city with a small-town feel. “I think he liked Memphis and the folks there,” says Pegram, “because we didn’t fawn over him or kiss up to him like I suspect a lot of people often did.”

Moving to Memphis in early 1997, Buckley began work on his newest album at Easley McCain Recording. He performed several shows at the downtown venue, Barristers, a bar tucked away in an alley off Jefferson Avenue. Buckley was a lively entertainer, but in Memphis he could let loose in ways that record labels and big-city venues either didn’t allow or didn’t cultivate. At one of his Monday-night gigs at Barristers, Joey Pegram and Emily Helming were there, separately, and it’s telling that both remembered a night where fans sat on the floor — not typical of Memphis bar crowds, or maybe any bar crowds. 

Helming says Buckley seemed frustrated that evening, but when he played the first notes of his infamous Leonard Cohen cover, “Hallelujah,” the atmosphere changed. Pegram added another layer, saying, “The music created a kind of sparkly magical feeling in the room … and people were kind of looking at each other, smiling like they knew they were experiencing something really special.”

In a city whose musical history is forever wet to the touch, a major performer who called it home for merely a few months hardly makes a ripple. Buckley’s Memphis legacy is more about him than his music. In many ways, Buckley’s time here is a well-kept secret. Doug Easley, who worked with Buckley at Easley McCain Recording on that never-finished second album, says there’s “a kind of hush about it.” Of the small group who got to know Buckley, some waited 20 years to talk about it.

The album that took shape between Easley McCain Recording and the house on Rembert Street would be released in rough form in 1998 as Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk. Tripp Lamkins can’t bring himself to listen to it all the way through, nor does he believe that it’s the album his friend intended to release. Without Buckley himself to lend insight, fans and friends are left to go the way of college literature courses: to look for themes and draw comparisons.

Sketches has the unapologetic candor of New York City and the disturbing human-ness of the Southern Gothic tradition. Intentional or not, there’s Memphis flavor on the album. Songs like “Your Flesh Is So Nice,” with its hollow, unproduced edge, could sit comfortably between the Reatards and Harlan T. Bobo on a Goner Records compilation. The classic-denim cool, straight-whiskey buzz of “Witches Rave” might be inspired by one of Memphis’ most beloved exports, Big Star, whose song “Kangaroo” was a favorite cover for Buckley. 

Buckley is part of a coterie of soul seekers — a mix of names recognizable and unknown — who have come from other states and countries to a home inside the Parkways, or maybe they never left there to start. For those inclined to follow their noses more than their wallets, for those who feel that, as Robert Gordon and others have said, “life is short and art is long,” Memphis is a beacon. The living is cheap. The pace is slow. This sets it apart, even from somewhere as close as Nashville. You don’t have to make it in Memphis, but you can — it’s just different. Memphis is creative awakening, growing untamed like kudzu. Buckley’s journey through this city is also a reflection of just that.  

On May 29, 1997, while waiting for his band to travel to Memphis from New York to join him in the studio, Buckley went for a swim in the Wolf River Harbor, reportedly fully clothed and wearing boots. He drowned after being pulled under in the wake of a passing tugboat. His body wasn’t found until June 4th. The autopsy report deemed the drowning accidental, as no signs of drugs or alcohol were found in his system.   

Memphis Magazine April 2017

Danielle Costello

A former Memphian, Danielle Costello is now a freelance writer/editor in Morgantown, West Virginia. A mom of two, exercise enthusiast, and dog-rescue advocate, she spends her free time making 45-minute 30-minute meals and savoring disrupted sleep.