#which is. notoriously competitive and difficult for me . did it about 4 hours after my time 💀

[bravevolunteer]

every day i do something so fucking stupid

[beatricethecat2]

if/then (2.0) - 13

Sorry this has taken a while to post, but we're heading into the truly twisty part and my brain's needed time (and clarity) to plot it out. I've only now realized this is Chapter 13 and 13 is perhaps an unlucky number, especially for some characters involved. Typos, yes! I will fix later. Edited 3/09

Previously: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

Read first if you are new! gutted/sorted and wax/wane…if/then is a continuation of those two.

///////////////

In an inverse act of physics, the rain beats harder as Myka's car stops, the fog covering its windows so dense she can barely see through. She wipes a circle clean with her hand and sees two figures approaching at a rapid clip, both carrying oversized umbrellas but still struggling to stay dry. One joins the driver as he hops out and circles around back, and the other opens Myka's door and accompanies her towards the Schloss.

Her destination was an hour outside Berlin, but she barely noticed the trip as her nose was firmly planted in her files the entire time. So much had changed since she was dropped, it was unbelievable, and she needed to read up on her competition throughly. Even more troubling was the person officiating hadn’t yet been disclosed, but Mrs. Frederic said they'd deal with that once she arrived.

During their brief conversation, Mrs. Frederic said that no one, including Helena, must know she's replacing her at the sale. Arriving unannounced would give them a tactical edge she felt they needed. But she had to tell Claudia because of her obligations to Christina. They concocted an airtight excuse, in the meantime, for when Helena calls to check in.

Her bags are taken elsewhere as she’s whisked down a hall and deposited in a room off of a larger chamber. She’s offered tea, which she politely declines, too nervous to drink. The porter hands her a towel and apologizes for the damp weather, then says to take a seat, someone would be with her shortly.

She blots her wet skin as she circles the room, touching surfaces as she goes: a marble table top, a porcelain vase, a walnut credenza. As she passes a garden-facing window, an enormous, sagging tent catches her eye. She stops and studies it, noting it strains in the rain to stay upright. The antiquity must inside, and the humidity wreaking havoc. Something that large must be difficult to climate control.

“Are you accompanying Mrs. Frederic?” a woman asks, her accent somewhat British, but more continental.

“No, I’m replacing her,” Myka answers and turns around. She gasps at who she sees and stumbles back until her hip hitting the window sill stops her.

“I see,” the woman says, a stern look of disapproval boring through Myka's soul. “If you’ll kindly wait here, I must speak my colleague.”

Myka manages a small nod and grips the windowsill to stay standing. Bonnie never once turned up in her research, so why is she here?

Bonnie turns to leave and pushes open a door. As she does, there’s a thwack and an “Ow!” Another person shoulders past, head bent down, hand covering their nose.

“You’ve certainly made a grand entrance, Irene,” they say, their words slightly muffled. "As if everyone wasn’t riled up enough you’d be attending in person.”

The woman lifts her eyes, and as her gaze meets Myka's, her hand falls to her side, and a drop of blood drips onto her shirt. Myka's heart freezes, then pounds out of her chest, and she shuffles back, until her her calves press into the cool surface of the wall.

The woman’s dark hair is pinned up in a bun, and she’s wearing black-rimmed glasses, but rest of her presentation is intimately familiar to Myka.

“Did you know about this?” Helena barks at Bonnie.

“Obviously not.” Bonnie scowls coldly.

Helena glowers and pinches the bridge of her nose.

Myka looks between Helena and Bonnie, heart racing, hands beginning to shake. Her legs tremble as she shuffles awkwardly towards a chair. Helena rushes toward her to help, but Myka shoots her a frosty glare. Helena stops a pace away as Myka sits.

“I can explain after I make some calls,” Helena says.

Myka doesn't respond, just glares, in shock.

“You must be exhausted from your trip,” Helena says, in a tone meant to be comforting. She looks at Bonnie. "Take her through to the luncheon before the showing.”

Bonnie stiffens, clearly affronted by Helena's request and Helena narrows her eyes.

“As you wish,” Bonnie says, and hands Helena a towel.

“Make sure she’s taken care of,” Helena snips, and presses the towel to her nose. She looks back at Myka, and her eyes soften. “It seems we've all been thrown to the lions ill-prepared. I’ll be giving Irene an earful."

Myka's eyes flick down to Helena's shirt, she can't look her in the eye. She fixates on the drop of blood soaking into the silk. “Y-You have some…” Her finger shakes as she points.

Helena lifts the towel and looks down. “Brilliant. Highlight of an already cocked up day." She scowls at Bonnie. "Help her settle in while I change.”

Bonnie cocks a brow and Helena takes her leave. Myka watches the door swing closed, still dumbfounded by the situation.

“Would you care to freshen up before lunch?” Bonnie asks. She's polite, but there's an edge there, one that says Myka's not welcome.

“I, um...” If she goes to her room now, she might never come out again. “No.”

“Then follow me,” Bonnie says, and turns to leave.

“Wait. Who are you?” Myka asks, standing up as if pulled by Bonnie’s inertia.

Bonnie looks over her shoulder and sweeps eyes her over Myka's form. She turns around and extends a hand, smiling an unnervingly businesslike smile. “Bonnie Belski, liaison to the seller.”

Myka looks at the hand but doesn’t shake it. “I thought you owned a bar in London?”

“Part owner.”

“And 'Viondra Moore'?”

Bonnie's lips lift at the ends, and the corners of her eyes crinkle in amusement. “Hobby.”

Myka huffs a short laugh and shakes her head. "How long have you been involved in this?"

The mirth drains from Bonnie’s expression. “We must keep moving to stay on schedule. Are you in or out?”

“In,” Myka says, more determined than ever to show this woman she can play ball.

“Then follow me."

-----------------

Myka’s ushered to a table at the back of a stately hall and seated in front of a plate full of food.

“Bon appetit,” Bonnie says, with little enthusiasm, then makes her way across the room. People swarm towards her as she walks, abandoning their laptops and papers, asking a slew of questions all at once.

Myka calls Mrs. Frederic, but the line goes straight to voicemail, so she leaves a message explaining Helena’s brokering the sale. She does her best to sound level-headed, but suggests it's logistically a problem, then assures her she can work through it, no matter the circumstances.

Did Mrs. Frederic insist she tell no one because she knew Helena would be here? It's hard to believe Helena could pull this over on her since they've been talking. Plus Mrs. Frederic always knows everything, so maybe she found out last-minute and freaked. But sending her in blind is a weird a strategic move. Hopefully, Mrs. Frederic will tell her what's really going on, now that she's here. She has so many questions to ask when they talk.

And then there's Bonnie, "babezilla," the marble statue running the show. Why has she never turned up in her research even once? Mrs. Frederic must know her since they’ve been present at events together and she's been to Mrs. Frederic's gallery several times. Or maybe not, as they weren't talking, just in proximity to each other. Maybe the notoriously private seller is the connection, but she’d not sure how. There must be an angle, and she needs to puzzle it out, and fast.

Bonnie as she announces something to the group, then suddenly, and all eyes are upon her. She makes a quick survey of faces, then tucks into her food, hoping to avoid further scrutiny.

Someone walks by, and she feels their eyes upon her. She looks up, it's Helena, but she doesn't meet her gaze. Helena continues walking and takes Bonnie to the side. Bonnie's face turns even stonier as they talk.

Helena's heels are higher than usual, but Bonnie still towers over her, looking the embodiment of class in a white Chanel suit. Helena’s changed into an identical shirt and has donned a fitted jacket, one that matches her dark trousers. Myka recognizes the cut but can't recall the label; it's definitely beyond what Helena can afford. Did she buy it for the sale or did Bonnie buy it for her? The thought makes her stomach turn, and she sets down her fork.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” Helena says, turning to face the room. “We sincerely apologize for the delay. Due to an unexpected change of personage, a conflict of interest has arisen. Therefore, I'll be presenting all offers to Ms. Belski anonymously."

A collective gasp fills the room and calls are made immediately. Helena and Bonnie make a beeline to Myka’s table.

“Quite a wrench you’ve thrown into the works,” Helena says, taking a seat across from her. “They were hoping their employer's reputations would hold some clout. But now..." Helena drags a finger over her throat as if slitting it. "Was this your plan all along?”

“My plan?”

“Yours and Mrs. Frederic’s.”

“You know as much as me. Probably more.” Myka narrows her eyes, then looks down at Helena's hand, tucked under her collar, rubbing the spot where her locket usually hangs. Her locket isn't present, but she is wearing a ring, one she hasn’t seen her wear since they very first met.

"Why are you here?” Myka asks.

Helena stills her hand. “Apparently, my reputation precedes me.” She looks up at Bonnie.

“The seller was owed a favor, and they’re collecting,” Bonnie states.

“How long have you known? Since that phone call, at the hotel?” Myka asks Helena.

“The particulars are of no consequence—” Bonnie answers.

“Yesterday. As you claim you were," Helena interrupts.

“Claim?”

“Perhaps you were never taken off the sale.”

“Why would I lie? I would never lie."

“Oh, how quaint. A lover’s spat. So looking forward to more,” Bonnie grumbles. “We’ve no time for this, Emily. Do your job."

"Emily?" Myka says, eyes wide with confusion.

Helena takes a deep breath to compose herself then stands and smooths down her jacket. She squares her stance and looks Myka in the eye.

“Emily Lake, broker of this grand extravaganza. If you’ll kindly follow me, Ms. Bering, I’ll escort you and the group to the tent.”

---------------

Myka's funneled through a protected gangway with the other attendees, silently fuming as she stares at the back of Helena’s head. She's kicked out of her brooding when a buyer introduces themselves, sizing her up as she should be of them. But it’s difficult to concentrate when the love of your life is three heads away and working for the wrong side of the deal.

Helena pauses at a zippered doorway, and the group gathers around.

“Before we enter, some words of caution. Details of the item housed here should not be shared with anyone, save your employers. Photos are strictly prohibited, as are any public postings. Severe consequences will be imposed upon anyone who disregards these rules. I'd do everything in your power to abide by them,” Helena says, raising her voice to be heard over the din of rain.

“Ripped from its home in St. Petersburg and reconstructed in East Prussia, Allied bombs were said to have destroyed it entirely during the war. Rumors of its removal for safekeeping inspired generations searches with little return. Hidden bunkers and buried train cars came up empty. It was recently found hidden where no one imaged to look, in crates built into walls of a structure being restored. The item's condition is remarkable considering the circumstances. Please take your time and evaluate it thoroughly."

She unzips a white vinyl door and pulls it aside, holding out a hand to usher the group in. "Without further ado, may I present to you, the eighth wonder of the world, the Yantarnaya Komnata, also known as The Amber Room.”

Bonnie enters first, and her staff after, each pairing with a buyer as they step through the door. As Myka passes Helena, she scowls, and Helena looks away. But her negative feelings subside the minute she's inside the tent.

A massive scaffolding supports multiple panels tiled together in both length and height, recreating the grand volume of the room. Its gold is dulled, and it’s amber muted, but its opulent Russian Baroque grandeur is intact. Cherubs peering down at her are too numerous to count and the variations in amber filigree exhaustive beyond measure. Were the sconces lit, the room's orange and brown hues would dry the humid air, their radiant warmth already evident, affecting her on a physical level.

“This is, of course, is the original artwork from the early 18th century, designed by Andreas Schlüter and crafted by amber masters from Danzig,” Helena explains.

“Does it contain all the panels, including the ones left out of its installation in Koenigsberg?” a woman asks.

“Yes."

“And the damage?” a man asks, inspecting a section with a magnifying glass.

“We’ve done nothing but a light cleaning. Damage and subsequent repairs are prior to the crates being opened.”

“Where’s the floor?” Myka asks.

“To your right,” Helena says. Everyone turns toward a platform hovering off the ground, displaying wooden panels with intricate parquet patterns. “Ladders have been provided for your convenience, so please, inspect the goods closely. Bonnie and I have matters to discuss, but in the interim, ask anyone in a green jacket for assistance.”

Buyers immediately pull out laptops and dial their bosses to consult, but Myka watches Helena and Bonnie converse. Helena talks more than Bonnie, gesticulating while explaining something of importance, then throws her hands into the air as the discussion comes to a halt. The display seems almost intimate, and she wonders how well they know each other, really. Then her ruminations are cut short by the buzzing of her phone.

“Mrs. Frederic,” Myka answers and promptly digs through her bag. She pulls out her computer and sees she’s five minutes behind schedule. Mrs. Frederic launches into work mode, asking a million specific questions, sending Myka scrambling across the room. She scrutinizes every detailed surface as others do the same, the vibe much like a mad dash in a scavenger hunt.

She's still typing when Mrs. Frederic ends their session, without the topic of Helena being discussed. It seems odd as she must have gotten her message, but maybe it's a non-issue. Mrs. Frederic will stop at nothing to win this deal.

“Times up,” an assistant announces, far too soon for anyone’s liking. “Please pack up and follow me. Except for Bertram Kelly. Emily will meet with you shortly.”

The group is swept back into the dining hall and told they’re welcome to work there or retire to their rooms. They'll be notified of their meeting times as soon as they are determined.

“Is there a schedule?” a woman asks.

“Not at the moment,” the assistant says. “But be ready when we get in touch.”

More games, Myka thinks. So many games. Time to regroup and figure out how to play to win.

---------------

Myka mentions both Helena and Bonnie in her notes and is disappointed when neither woman seems to be a problem for Mrs. Frederic. She's familiar with Bonnie, but has no particular opinion of her, except she's glad she's been kicked out of the negotiations. As for Helena, she said to be cautious, stating Helena's a skilled manipulator. Myka’s learning this in leaps and bounds, though she wishes it wasn’t in real time.

She sifts through Mrs. Frederic’s additions until her eyes begin to droop, then lies in bed, willing herself to relax. But the moment the sale fades, Helena’s presence rises, and she’s left puzzling out her involvement in the proceedings. Helena must have been strong-armed into this by Bonnie, but the question is why? What does Helena owe and to whom? And how soon will she have repaid them, or rather, how involved does she have to be?

If Bonnie is a cop, then what part is she playing and where do her loyalties lie? Maybe she's a dirty cop, working for Macpherson. Or no longer a cop at all, as Claudia’s documents weren't very recent. But no matter the option, she’s holding something over Helena’s head, something serious.

Who can she trust? She’s not sure anymore, but the truth is she’s not sure if she cares. Her gut says win the sale, take the commission then get back to her life, whatever that is after all of this is settled.

Her phone dings; dinner in ten minutes. She closes her eyes and sinks into her pillow. Last, one in the door, last to make a deal. She wishes she could get it over with sooner.

----------

It’s nine-thirty when her number comes up, and by then Mrs. Frederic’s amended her notes three times. But she is ready, with a list of questions and tiers of offers guide her bid. She hopes staying businesslike will help her remain calm and keep the emotional damage at bay.

The rain has stopped, but the air is humid, and there’s light fog inside the tent. The moisture wreaked havoc with their generators, so the assistant accompanying her explained, but the humidity is finally waning. She spies Helena at the far end of the room, stationed alone at a table and Helena waves, beckoning her closer. As Myka approaches, she downs a tumbler of amber liquid.

“Welcome,” she says, rising from her chair. “I apologize for the late hour.”

Myka holds Helena's gaze, her eyes asking, "What's really going on? Why are you here?" Helena's look softens, registering Myka’s concerns, but she offers no answers. Helena's physical proximity calls to her, though she is both angry and confused. She takes a step closer and reaches out to tidy Helena's disheveled bun.

“Questions?” Helena says, stepping back, just out of Myka's reach.

Myka's jaw clenches as she drops her hand. “I have many,” she says as she slips her laptop out of her bag and pulls up her notes.

They talk business for quite some time, walking around the room, asking and answering questions, then settle into chairs where Helena was stationed previously. They formalize Mrs. Frederic’s offer, and as the proceedings wrap up, Helena grabs a bottle from the table and unscrews its cap.

“Drink?”

Myka stares at the bottle, it’s quite expensive booze, and it has been a really long day. But the answers she yearned for seem no longer urgent, and this room is the wrong place to voice them. Now that she’s sitting down, she’s tired, plus there’s another day of this to go.

But the look Helena gives her convinces her to stay; it's the same one Christina uses to delay bedtime. “Ok,” she says, even if it's against her better judgment. Maybe a nightcap will numb her mind so she can sleep.

Helena pours a generous portion then hands it to Myka. She does so for herself and holds her glass out for a toast. “To the sale,” she says and clinks Myka's glass. She downs half its contents and rests it on the table.

“Name your price to fix this,” Helena says.

“Fix what?”

“Our personal issues."

“You want me to bid?”

Helena makes a noise between a snort and a laugh.

"Ok. Winning the sale," Myka answers then takes a small sip of her drink.

“I’ve no control over that. Or anything else, it seems, at the moment.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“You can. You always—“

“Emily, Bonnie would like a word,” A green-coated man announces from the door.

“Just a moment,” Helena says.

“She said now.”

Helena glares. “I’ve spent the last however many hours peddling her wares. I deserve a reprieve.”

“S-She said the boss wants a report.”

“The boss.”

“Yes.”

"At this hour?"

The assistant nods. His soldier-like posture adds gravity to his request, as does the fear of failure in his eyes.

Helena twirls her glass back and forth and studies the swirling liquid, then downs the contents all in one go. “Forgive me, fair lady, for it seems my time is not my own. Perhaps we can continue this discussion at a later date.” She wobbles as she rises and grabs the back of her chair. “If I may ask a favor? Might you refrain from enlightening Claudia of our predicament, as I’m currently not equipped to withstand her wrath.”

Myka nods, as she's of a similar mind.

"Thank you," Helena says and adds a small bow. She staggers slightly as she follows the assistant out of the room.

Myka looks at the bottle and sees it's nearly empty. What exactly has Helena gotten herself into that she’d drink that much bourbon?

----------------

Myka finishes editing her notes around midnight, then showers and readies herself for bed. She then lies, wide awake, questions swirling in her head. She’s angry at being deceived, but there’s no fighting how much she’s missed Helena. Being near her without touching her drives her crazy, and she aches for logical answers.

She’d sneak out to find her but the building is sprawling, and there’s no guarantee she’s even staying in this wing. She debates texting, then does anyway, and assumes Helena's passed out when she gets no response. She breathes deep, calming breaths but her brain keeps on churning on anyway. Maybe a walk to clear her mind. She rises and gets dressed.

As she roams, she descends a staircase, then walks through a foyer and into the dining hall. It's empty except for Helena and Bonnie, sitting far too close to each other, at the opposite end of the room. They converse over laptops and papers then Helena rises and reaches for a document. She looks up in the process and notices Myka staring from the doorway. She says something to Bonnie, then zig-zags through the tables to meet her.

“You should be resting,” Helena says.

“How can I?” Myka answers, crossing her arms over her chest.

“May we talk.”

“Do you have Czar Belski’s permission?”

Helena huffs a short laugh. “Sit with me.” She pulls out a chair and sits. Myka does the same.

“I apologize for earlier, of accusing you of foul play. I was playing my part, but it was uncalled for.”

"What part?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

“No," Myka says, narrowing her eyes.

Helena breathes a heavy sigh and looks down at the table.

“What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Once I fulfill what is owed, I’ll be free.”

“Free from what?”

Helena glances over her shoulder at Bonnie, and Bonnie taps her wrist as if she were wearing a watch.

“Obligations,” she says and looks back at Myka.

“So you weren’t meeting Mrs. Frederic about the appeal.”

“I was. And still am.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t understand. I don’t know anything about you, do I?”

“You do. You know me better than anyone else.” Helena reaches across the table to touch Myka hands, but Myka pulls them away. Bonnie approaches, coming up behind Helena.

“I’m sorry Ms. Bering, but we really must push on.”

Myka looks at Bonnie and her eyes flick down to where her hands rest on Helena’s shoulders. Still handsy, ice queen. Way too handsy.

“Give us a moment, Czar Belski,” Helena says, grinning smugly as she glances up at Bonnie.

“Hurry,” Bonnie says, digging her fingers into Helena’s shoulders before walking away.

Myka watches Bonnie until she's out of earshot. “Claudia calls her ‘babezillia.' I guess she's right.”

Helena snickers. “She does tower and growl, and perhaps, even breathe fire. Though I dearly hope I manage to escape that phase of her evolution.” She looks over at Bonnie and Bonnie shoots her a firm eye.

“I know I’ve made a mess of things, but when I can speak freely, I'll explain everything,” Helena says, rising. “A word of advice in the meantime, concentrate on the sale. Treat me as you would any other broker. You'll need all your strength for tomorrow’s negotiations.”

Helena's impersonal tone stings more than Myka would like it to, but in the end, she knows Helena's right.

“Please consider my words and please, get some rest,” Helena says, then walks towards Bonnie.

-------------

The next morning, during breakfast, Helena announces the bids have topped out at five hundred million.

“But it’s been appraised at five!” someone blurts.

“Blame your colleagues in the room,” Helena states.

Everyone looks circumspectly at everyone else, then back at their hosts.

“At this point, seller asks that you all sweeten the pot. Anything under the radar is acceptable.”

“What does that mean?” Myka asks.

“Think about it. It’s not rocket science,” Bonnie taunts.

The room bursts into a low chuckle, and Myka glances at Helena. She grimaces at how embarrassed Helena looks for her.

Myka returns to her room and phones Mrs. Frederic. Mrs. Frederic ups her bid to six million, but no more, and adds an “under the radar” item that shocks her.

Clients are let loose to inspect the room again until lunch is served. This time their meetings are scheduled and timed, as everyone has to fit in before dinner. When Myka’s appointment arrives, Helena’s obviously stressed. There’s little room for idle conversation.

Myka offers what Mrs. Frederic's willing to give, but Helena seems unhappy with the deal.

“Nothing else?”

“That Faberge egg is priceless. I didn’t know it still existed.”

“Maybe so, but…” Helena looks to the side and drags a hand through her hair. “We’ll do one last offer after dinner.”

“What are you saying?”

“Talk with Mrs. Frederic. Make the offer count. For the win.”

“I thought I was.”

“I can’t confirm or deny that. Only Bonnie holds that power.”

“But you think it’s not good enough?”

“I’ve already said too much.”

An assistant appears and whisks Myka away before she can press for details.

At dinner there’s another announcement, six-hundred million plus “considerable bounty,” and the buyers are warned they have one last chance to negotiate.

“This is absurd,” one buyer says.

“Robbery,” Bertram Kelly blurts.

“The seller is mad,” a man adds.

“Not my call,” Helena states, “but I suggest you confer with your employers.”

Everyone scatters.

-------------

As per usual, Myka’s the last to be interviewed, but this time, she’s finding it hard to focus. At dinner, she overheard a conversation between two buyers that left her angrier with Helena than ever before.

“What do you want me to say?’ Myka says, getting right to the point as she enters Helena's office.

“Anything beyond your last offer,” Helena says, shrinking back in her seat.

“Mrs. Frederic was firm. She says the egg should be enough.” Myka pulls out a chair and sits.

“Are you certain? My overlords have indicated there’s something else.”

“I don’t know what that is. Do you?” Myka does, but Mrs. Frederic told her to play dumb.

“You know as well as I; I’m merely the middlewoman.”

“You’ve said that before. About things. Things you did know. Why should trust you now?”

“Because you’ll lose, and I’d rather you not.”

“You’d rather me not?” Myka says, chair screeching back as she stands. “You’d rather me not?” This time, louder.

“I do have your best interests at heart.”

“My best interests? Since when.”

“Since we very first met.”

Myka scoffs. “Don’t even.” How dare she bring their relationship into this?

“My apologies,” Helena says, angling her eyes down. When she looks up, she seems repentant, but Myka’s only half-convinced her look is genuine.

“I’ll still need an additional offer.”

There goes the half. “Fine. I may have a replacement. An either/or scenario,” Myka says.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a code, that’s all.” Myka points to a stack of post-its and Helena peels one off and hands her a pen.

Myka scribbles a combination of letters and numbers and hands it back.

“What is this?”

“I don’t know. Mrs. Frederic said you would.”

“Me, personally?”

“The seller, I guess. Probably Bonnie.”

“Are you not uncomfortable handing over unknown wares?”

“I’m uncomfortable about this whole thing, but no one seems to care.”

“I care—“

“Save it.” Myka raises a hand.

Helena looks at the note again. “I’ll review this with Bonnie.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

“Anything else I should pass on?”

“Fifty-thousand over the top bid plus that. Or the egg. Whatever works.”

“Noted.”

“Can I go?”

“May we talk?”

“The quicker this is over, the better.”

“Of course, but we—”

“How long,” Myka says, slapping her palms on the desk.

Helena flinches. “Pardon?”

“How long have you known about the room?”

“I was summoned the very day you were sent here.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Helena holds Myka’s glare but offers no answer.

“I heard you were at the pre-sale. Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You didn’t tell the truth.”

“I didn't say anything. Do you really think I had agency to speak? Bonnie’s lorded over me since the minute I arrived in London.”

“How would I know?”

“You’re not meant to know. This was meant to occur without your involvement. But Mrs. Frederic cocked that up early on. I do not understand why she sent you, of all people, as a replacement.”

"Becuase I'm not good enough?"

"That's not what I meant—"

“I'm such an idiot, playing along with this the whole time. You knew everything already, didn't you.”

“It’s been eating me alive.”

“Yeah, right.” Myka crosses her arms over her chest and looks away. “You lied me, lied to my face, over and over and over. I thought you loved me.”

“I do. More than anything.” Helena rises.

“Then why? Why wouldn't you tell me?”

“This is not your fight. You were meant to be kept out of it entirely."

“Yet here I am.”

"As I've previously said, I've no control over the situation."

"That's always your excuse," Myka says, glaring at Helena. "Does this have something to do with MacPherson, or is it some new crazy thing?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Helena’s phone buzzes but she doesn’t look at it.

“Answer it.”

Helena shakes her head. “It means our time is up.”

"Yeah, it is," Myka huffs and walks towards the door.

"Myka, wait." Helena scrambles to intercept, grabbing hold of Myka's upper arm. “What we have is more than this. I beg of you, please don’t throw us away.”

“How can you say that, after all of this?"

“Because once this is through I can fix this. Fix all of this, and we can have the life together we sorely deserve.”

“Isn’t it over today?”

“For you, yes.”

“Why are you always so cryptic?”

“I’m as forthcoming as possible.”

“Not forthcoming enough.” Myka yanks her arm free.

Helena's phone buzzes again, and there’s a knock on the back door.

“Czar Belski better know what that number means. I deserve to win.” Myka stomps out of the room.

-TBC-

---------------

NOTE: The original Amber Room has never been found, but a reconstruction was created that took 24 years to complete.

[the-miss-delaney]

Intentions for 25,

Things have been so good + my heart had been warmed and lifted by experiences, possibilities, and so many good people this year. Still, I find that I sink into darker moments or unintentionally take less-good care of myself than I ought to. Here are some intentions I would like to set to continue improving myself, my outlook, and my life, in light of sagittarius season / the new year / a beautiful thirteen day vacation just around the corner. 

- Practice yoga, or some kind of meditation in motion daily. Every day I’m finding that yoga is the best thing for me. Every time I step away from it for longer than a week, I experience more anxiety and I don’t feel myself... and when I re-introduce it I wonder why I ever left. Whether it’s home or studio practice... or even a walk outside, make it happen, and make it a priority. Life happens, and some days realistically will not make it easy, but I need to remember how mentally, emotionally, and physically beneficial remembering to turn inwards and focus on my breath can be - immediately during and afterwards - and take the time to break out my mat.

- Learn how to meditate. I have read all of these articles about meditation, the benefits, the ease of it, how it takes literally nothing extra... and yet, how it is still so difficult. I have a habit of internalizing feelings, and letting my mind run rampant is a understatement. I honestly would love to find my own purpose to meditate, and see what it does for me + what I can do for myself.

- Allow myself to enjoy working out again. I used to love it - and still do in the right moments - until I let myself associate it too closely with my past issues of negative self image and I let some of those feelings come back. It’s bizarre, because I only feel those emotions when I’m trying to convince myself to actually get up and go to the gym. Once I’m there, unless it’s an off-day, I rarely have an issue + never have regretted the choice. For months now, Brian has gone to the gym every morning before work, just for a short time but he consistently gets moving every day, and he feels strong and good most days - my atypical schedule doesn’t allow for the same routine, but it is a very positive example to follow. 

- Read more books. Create a book list, and invest more time in reading than I currently do (which is essentially close to zero). I have a couple in mind, so I have a place to start.

- Hike more. This was a year in the books for hiking. I went on my first backpacking trips in Washington state, did my first winter hikes, and conquered some rough trails alone and with people I love. There were very hard moments, but I can’t even believe some of the things I saw because I was capable of pushing my body to reach them. It was incredible, exhilarating, and awe-inspiring. This year coming I would love to accomplish the same and continue to push my boundaries, get out there, and see it all.

- Get a new job. This one is hard because I really, really, really love the people I work with. I’m stimulated the majority of nights I go to work, I live close to my hospital, and I’ve gained an invaluable amount of experience. But, 3 years is enough. The wear and tear of the same ol’ problems, same ol’ patients... I need a change. I can’t help it and I can’t shake my intuition. I want to prove to myself that I can continue to push myself to learn more, handle more, and help more. This is the year to make changes. Changes are hard, and scary. I’m not always convinced that I’ll be an excellent nurse in another environment. It’s especially intimidating when the changes I’m considering are travel nursing and going all over the country and are very up in the-air oh my god how am I going to do this. But, at the same time, I want it, and the fact that I physically can actually go and do it is SO exciting. This is the time. This winter I will set up my game plan, and see where my intuition takes me.

- Be better with money. This is something I partially accomplished this year. I saved some money, I was able to go on a big trip, and my rent check didn’t bounce once. Honestly, that last part sounds terrible, but when I first started out on my own I could literally not once, not ever feel like I was getting ahead - and this is a personal success that none of my bills were late, no checks bounced, and I was able to pay down my credit card to a reasonable balance. Still, I would like to save more money, and work on a better mental relationship with money. Some of this will likely include the above goal: a new job, where I am adequately and competitively compensated.

- Nourish my body. I have built a better relationship with food in the past couple of years - especially since college. I would never go as far to say I experienced disordered eating, but it’s hard to be surrounded by so many people with unhealthy relationships with food and their bodies. Over the last couple of years, I’ve struck a mostly-successful balance of nourish yourself/treat yourself. It’s insanely easy to get thrown off track, like I have the past 3 or so months - especially when your favorite food is pizza and your favorite drink is craft beer. This coming year, I would like to strike a better balance. I would like to learn how to best supplement my workouts. I would also like to drink less alcohol - still in moderation, I would just like to eliminate the nights that end up at dive bars with bagel/mcdonald’s mornings. My body deserves infinitely better than that.

- Do things when I say I’m going to do them. I am notorious for procrastinating, and for saying things like “I’ll clean my car today” or “do laundry” or “work out” and then you find me 4 hours later unaccomplished and additionally feeling guilty about it, to boot. It will just be easier to get shit done when I’m supposed to and then that’s it. I trialed this with laundry this year - my worst offender - and it was a roaring success.

 - Take more, and better, photos. This year has been an incredible year for my photography practice. I think part of it was the small investment in a new lens, and it truly has opened my eyes and allowed me to enhance my skills. This year, I shot almost exclusively on manual mode, and learned what makes/breaks a shot. I am so proud of a lot of my work. Still, sometimes I have this tiny voice in the back of my head - mostly when I’m out alone in public, stopping while walking or setting up a self-timer, and someone snickers - that laughs and thinks this whole thing is dumb, and I think it’s reminiscent of what my high school friends thought was innocent banter that stuck with me. That would cause me to rush and not acquire the shot I was after, and forcing myself to be complacent with it. This coming year will be the year to ignore and rid of that voice so I can finally free myself and feel purely comfortable doing what I love.

- Journal. I’ve never really been successful with journaling, but I always read about how beneficial it can be when practiced regularly. I internalize a lot of feelings, and I imagine that a safe space to outlet everything free of judgement or concern would be a beautiful accompaniment to my daily meditation/yoga.

[therebelwrites]

WHY KOBE BRYANT DIED TODAY

And so, having posted those 2 things, you should now understand why Kobe left...

The fact that Lebron James had just surpassed Kobe’s scoring record less than 24 hours prior to his death is no coincidence, as there are no such things as coincidences in the game of life. (I’ve used both virtual reality and science to substantiate this in my posts, “Virtual Reality as Proof that Life is a Game” and “Scientific Proof that Life is Not Real!!”, respectively.)

Considering my minimal interaction with social media, especially on a Sunday, the fact that I even found out about this story at all is very telling, especially in real time. Not to mention the fact that the news came from 4 different sources, 4 different methods. That’s the Universe’s way of telling me that I HAVE to write about it, to tell you what I know...This aint gon be the most well-written post ever, lbvs, but it’s the truth as my deep spiritual connection has relayed; something that I MUST write, not necessarily something that I actually feel like writing, tbh...

When I was relayed the news, my first question was, “WHY did he leave??”

As I’ve stated before, young, “happy” people don’t typically exit the game of life temporarily, and Kobe was both young and successful. Some might even call him self-actualized. While I didn’t always agree with this life outside of his sport, his greatness was undeniable and his departure from this plane is devastating, no question. Yet when you consider life from HIS standpoint, his decision to accept death is less surprising...

He’d been in the NBA, which is considered the apex for all basketball players, since he was a teenager. (That means that while everybody else was still trying to figure out who they were and how their bodies worked, Kobe Bryant was living out his--and in essence, every American’s-- dream. Wealth, success, happiness, all before being legally able to drink.)

The teenage years are when humans begin to shape their identity in the world, which means that it’s a prime time for experiences and behaviors to STICK to the ego (and, as we all know, Kobe was definitely WELL in touch with his ego!). If something “bad” happens, it has a heightened impact on their identity, same goes if something “good” happens. This is why child stars are so emotionally vulnerable; without proper guidance, they unknowingly and instinctively attach their very identity to something that is inherently transient and volatile (being a celebrity/famous/rich/popular). That means when these things inevitably run their course and cease to become a part of what mature adults understand to be merely a LIVED EXPERIENCE, child stars--having assumed celebrity status to be a part of their PERMANENT IDENTITY--typically and predictably suffer severe psychological breakdowns. (If you’ve always been rich and famous, then when you’re no longer these things you literally can’t know WHO exactly you are without the money or the fame. Although regular civilians make fun of these “rich people problems”, it is a real thing!)

So what does this have to do with Kobe Bryant, who clearly survived the child star phase? Everything. His having achieved such heights while still solidifying his identity as a person means that he had every reason to believe that, not only did he possess legendary talent, being, at the time, the youngest NBA recruit ever, but that he WAS basketball. He had literally never lived his adult life OUTSIDE of the sport of basketball; outside of being among the greatest to ever play the sport.

Fast forward through life, and his accolades just kept racking up. I personally had many debates about his character--he was well-known as a crybaby, a ball hog, being so accustomed to always getting his way and being the best, not to mention the situation with the white chicks--but what was never up for discussion was his TALENT.

Kobe Bryant WAS the game of basketball. He knew it. The world knew it. And his ego DEFINITELY knew it.

(Keep in mind that this is the same ego that had been forged from adolescent (i.e. “instant”) SUCCESS, not adult, slow-and-steady-wins-the-race perseverance. In Kobe’s mind, he worked hard to hone his talent and he was rewarded by the Universe with subsequent success (with no lag time!), and he was the greatest and would always be, and that’s just how the world worked-- how the world was supposed to work, because, hey, he was THE Kobe Bryant.)

Only he would later learn that that aint how LIFE works...

(Remember when I said that unless you are doing INTENTIONAL spiritual work, you are the exact same person who you were as a child--flaws and all. That means spoiled/self-centered/entitled children don’t magically transform into selfless adults with the simple turn of a few calendars. I can’t stress this point enough.)

And so time, being notoriously impatient, kept moving and eventually introduced unto the basketball world LeBron James, who, while barely older than Kobe was when he, himself, entered the NBA, came from a less privileged background. Having no professional basketball player father to encourage him, and being raised by a single mother, the young LeBron had to get it out the mud. This taught him HUMILITY and colored his young identity with the refreshing shade of humbleness that he would come to be known for. While Kobe had come to understand life in simple terms: talent + hard work = success, LeBron’s upbringing had shown him that talent merely equated to a SHOT at success. As I stated in my post about martyrdom and Black males, “Shiiid, people die everyday.” (This includes people with talent...)

Which brings us to the more recent past, 2016, when Kobe retired from basketball. Again, keep in mind that he had attained legendary status at this point, which no doubt assuaged his ego in face of the fact that he was leaving a part of his identity--the part that had been with him since he was a teenager--behind. Also bear in mind the negative emotional impact that retiring can have on ANYBODY. (I wrote about this in a post years ago.) In many ways, retirement can be akin to divorcing a company/career, or even empty nest syndrome. You’ve been involved with the particular company/line of work/children for so long that when you leave (or when your children leave), you experience apprehension at the fact that you must now discover who you are WITHOUT it/them. This is why so many retirees end up going back to work or volunteering. Being in the public eye and in possession of extreme talent makes this even more difficult, as you must now sit back and watch as younger people come into your field and steal what used to be YOUR shine and break what used to be YOUR records...

And speaking of records...

(Are you starting to see where this is going now??)

Kobe, who had been known for NOT taking loses well at all; who possessed enough talent to SURPASS the scoring record of Michael Jordan, a man who, though long retired, still remains the literal figure of basketball, selling shoes emblazoned with his iconic jump for exorbitant prices years after Jordan, himself, is even able to physically make that jump; who had reached the pinnacle of his chosen trade at such a tender age (before he could even form an identity OUTSIDE of basketball); who was born on August 23, which puts him on the cusp of being a LEO, which represents the SUN and makes Leos notoriously competitive and infamous for needing to be the center of attention; who entered the world of basketball setting records and taking names, had to watch from the sidelines as a dude from the hood 6 years his junior break his record at the age of 35, with no end to his greatness in sight; while draped in the uniform of the team that Kobe had worn his ENTIRE career; while playing in Kobe’s hometown; while wearing shoes to honor Kobe’s “measly” 33,643 points (keep in mind the symbolism of shoes--they’re used to STEP ON things!); while there was still an entire QUARTER left for him to rack up even MORE points?!?!

IF you believe my premise that death is a choice, then there is no way for you not to understand EXACTLY why Kobe Bryant chose to transition, especially so soon after all of these things happened. Essentially, the message that was conveyed to him during that fateful game on Saturday night was: “You aint the greatest no more; you been REPLACED.”

And, sadly, since Kobe’s ego couldn’t handle what he perceived to be the demise of his legacy (completely false of course, as he was, is and will always BE legendary), his ego was literally killed, and his spirit was crushed and decided to follow suit.

There are NO such things as coincidences!

[edge-hill-university]

A Summer in TV Production Management

They say never work with children or animals. 

Well Megan worked with baby animals, and loved it. Most of the time.

“Sometimes you come in and there's not a lot going on…so I'd pull everything out and clean. And then some days you'd be getting phone calls, 'the orangutan's escaped, you need to run over here,’ and I'd be running round the whole zoo.”

Not a scene from the latest instalment of The Planet of the Apes franchise, but a glimpse into the secret life of the wannabe tv production manager, seen through the eyes of Edge Hill student Megan Hughes. She spent over five months on paid work placement at Chester Zoo, working for tv production company Blast! Films on the second series of Channel 4’s The Secret Life of the Zoo. Reminiscent more of scenes from Madagascar, if it wasn’t the orangutans playing up Megan would be tasked with monitoring the pregnant elephants and zebras, or keeping an eye out for Bernie, the spectacled bear, sitting on his branch.

The flipside to these fleeting moments of televisual gold, of course, is hours of waiting around. Animals tend not to follow the script:

“Everyone thinks that working in tv is glamorous, but it really isn't, it's hard work and long hours. At the zoo, there was a zebra due to give birth so we were doing rotating twelve hour shifts to make sure we didn't miss it. One night we needed to do a kit inventory so me and the Production Coordinator stayed until midnight to try and organise it to make sure it was all ready for the next day.”

Coursemate Ross Eaton also had a placement that appeared, on paper, to have a touch of glamour about it. He worked with BBC Sport’s Rio 2016 Olympic production team. Unfortunately for Ross, while the real action took place 6,000 miles away in Brazil, he was busy organising the staff paperwork back in sunny Salford:

“The production manager's team has to make sure health and safety is covered, all their passports are correct, make sure they've got the right medical documents.

“All that times, say, 500. It involves a lot of correspondence, checking details, all the stuff you think 'I don't want to do that', [but] I wanted to do it because you're working at the BBC so you just want to impress, don't you? A lot of people think it's just making cups of tea for a month. It's not at all, I got so hands on.”

Ross clearly displayed the right stuff at the Beeb who were looking for “someone who would hit the ground running, contribute to team meetings and with extremely good attention to detail,” according to Sheona Griffiths, Production Manager at BBC Sport. “Ross delivered on all counts. He showed confidence in his work, without being over-confident. He really understood the processes and challenges we were faced with and got stuck in, and always with good humour and a calm, positive, can-do attitude.”

To land the placement he had to devise features which would improve his favourite shows, suggesting the use of digital technology to bring a social participation element to A Question of Sport and Match of the Day, and impressing enough to stay on for a few more months as a paid employee on various projects: “I didn't really have a summer holiday, but I didn't want it to end.”

Megan and Ross are both students on the BA (Hons) Television Production Management (TVPM) programme, the only one of its kind in the UK, and an acknowledgement that an awful lot more goes into making a film or a tv programme than what you see on screen – just take a look at all those end-credits.

So, what is a television production manager? What do they do? Is it just someone good at ticking boxes? For a job that pays, on average, over £36k a year, you’d expect there to be just a little bit more to it than that. Why did Megan and Ross choose TV Production Management?

“I studied film and tv production at college, alongside English, Music and Drama, and I was undecided about what to study further. I came along to the Open Day, and [the lecturers] were like, 'oh, if you like being organised and bossy, this is the course for you', and I was like 'oh, it's me', so that's what made me want to do it,” says Megan, laughing.

Ross was equally mystified initially. He did photography at college, loved sport, was interested in the media, considered journalism, but decided to take a punt on TV Production Management after a chat with one of the course developers (now a Managing Editor at BBC Sport). The degree has really opened his eyes, and helped him to discover the career path he wants to follow:

“I just want to focus on brand new technologies, and this is linked to what I've enjoyed about the academic side of the course. I like how production techniques and technologies are constantly being improved. I would never have said that two years ago, wouldn't have had a clue, but learning about new things does influence you. So much that I'm doing something I've never done before.” That “something” is developing a programme idea for his final project – an audience-centric twist on Dragons’ Den – that is well out of his comfort zone: “From the first year I've always done something about sport, and I wanted to challenge myself.”

Course tutor Perelandra Beedles worked in the industry before joining Edge Hill’s pioneering degree, and knows what it takes to succeed:

“Production managers stay calm under pressure, have the skill to problem-solve and find solutions where no others can, and possess the ability to marry practical and financial considerations with creative ones. A good TV Production Management student needs to have excellent listening skills, attention to detail, be happy to work in a team but also be prepared to step up and take responsibility. Enjoying working with creative people is a must.”

Breaking into the media industry, especially without contacts, is notoriously difficult. How do you get these all important contacts? Through friends and acquaintances, through course contacts (lecturers, industry speakers, alumni working in the media), and through your own contacts made during periods of work experience. It makes sense, then, to make employability a core element of any undergraduate media course.

“Finding credible work placements is incredibly important for our students,” says Perelandra. “The University takes this aspect very seriously and has ensured the TVPM programme is delivered by industry professionals with many years of experience under their own belts and valuable contacts who can be accessed in a number of ways.

“From arranging talks from the Unit manager at the BBC Natural History Unit, to workshops from ITV programme developers and series producers, to liaising with talent managers, every module is threaded through with opportunities to get real ‘on the ground’ training.”

An enthusiastically encouraged rather than compulsory element of the programme, the University goes the extra mile to support students looking to secure placements, providing contacts and highlighting opportunities, helping out on the cash front through the Student Opportunity Fund, making sure they don’t miss out on any work while they’re away:

“I think they're all there for you, and they want us to succeed, and especially with [course lecturers] working in the industry, they're like 'go, go, go, get jobs,'” says Megan.

Her previous work experience as a production runner for a local media company was the factor that sealed the deal when she applied for The Secret Life of the Zoo (image below): “I was the only person who'd gone out and got other placements, done something rather than just sit around expecting something to be handed to me on a plate.”

Megan is perhaps being a little modest. Paul Evans, Production Manager at Blast! Films and an alumnus of the same course (Class of 2011), says it was because she made a great first impression:

“Megan showed a genuine interest in the project by asking relevant questions about the job which demonstrated her enthusiasm. I believe it’s how you first come across that is the most important – whether that’s through a phone conversation, email or a face-to-face interview.”

Once she’d landed the gig, though, Megan didn’t disappoint.

“Megan was a brilliant addition to the team,” says Paul, “and worked extremely hard to assist with the demands of the production. A production of this size needed someone with a positive can-do attitude every day and Megan was keen to impress. We’ve recently invited Megan back to help on the new series.”

Do a good job, and doors will open, according to Paul:

“There’s a huge demand for production secretaries, co-ordinators and managers within the industry. I got my first tv job two months after graduating and I’ve never been out of a job since.”

“There’s always a shortage of good production management staff and the good ones always stand out,” agrees Sheona Griffiths.

So, the course is geared towards getting everyone’s size nines in the door of the media industry, becoming a name amongst the scrolling credits at the end of films and tv shows.  Even if it means setting up your own company, something Megan and Ross have discussed, albeit half-jokingly – “one of our course tutors has given us a list of everything you need to set up your own production company, and me and Ross were thinking, 'we could do this'...we'll only do it if we can film stuff abroad so we can go on holidays...”

Post-placement, Ross’ outlook is decidedly rosy, building on the confidence successfully fighting your corner in a very competitive BBC Sport environment brings:

“What stands out was just meeting loads of people who are keen about the same things as you. You all enjoy media, television, and you're getting to know brand new people, and, when it comes to the end of your time and for them to say such positive things about you is a real confidence boost. I want to work now, I'm ready to work, I feel like I've grown up in the last year.”

Megan, meanwhile, will hopefully be walking up in hat and gown to collect her degree from Chancellor Professor Tanya Byron revelling in the knowledge that she’s already secured paid employment on the next series of The Secret Life of the Zoo. Good luck to any pregnant animals that don’t give birth according to her filming schedule this time round

edgehill.ac.uk/media

Series four of The Secret Life of the Zoo starts Wed 15 November 2017.

[gawaine]

Halo, if this is invasive then feel free to ignore, but I was wondering if you are able to shed some light into your education path, please. I'm kinda interested in how the education system works in England. If you dont mind, I'm intrigued by the years you spent in each level of education and what you took for tertiary until your current med school, please. You don't have to, but if you do I thank you very much :)

Sure! No problem. [under the cut bc it’s long]

I was actually home-schooled until I was about 6/7, but people here usually start primary school (we have a tertiary system out here) a lot younger than that. You stay in primary until 11.

Secondary school is from 11-16 for compulsory education. In the last two years of compulsory secondary, I sat my GCSEs (General Certificates of Secondary Education), which is about... 13 subjects? If you’re on AP programmes for the Cores (aka science, maths and english)? 

After that, you can choose if you want to do your A-levels, which is another 2 years, and something most secondary/high schools offer. 16-18. You study and sit these exams for entrance to university (there are other ways, but this is the ~straightforward path~).

So I did that! GCSEs, A-levels at the same high school and then I got accepted to one of the constituent colleges of the University of London for my joint honours degree in English Literature and Linguistics.

Now, usually, medicine is this country is between 5-7 years long (how good your A-levels are determine how good a uni you can apply for, whether you’re converting arts A-levels into a medical foundation year, the course specifically at that uni, if you want to do an extra year for an extra degree, etc), at undergraduate level aka straight from high school. But I didn’t do that because I was having health problems, so I did my other degree instead and chose to wait and see if it was still something I wanted to do if I got better.

And that’s because there are 4-5 year programmes in medicine for graduates. They’re extremely competitive, quite expensive and often have a lot more requirements than you’d expect. Graduate streams are in two categories (or were when I applied): science background and open to all. Science is just that: it means that you have to have a relevant science undergrad degree in healthcare or whatever (so a lot of people who didn’t get into med right after school choose biomed instead, with the aim of applying to programmes like this), or people from any discipline (such as myself), or at least science A-levels, of which I have neither, so I obviously applied the other way.

Most medical schools in the UK require a medical admissions test. There are a few; off the top of my head, the BMAT (which is similar to the American test, I think), UKCAT (which is a computer-based version of... an exam you probably haven’t heard of in the UK. Verbal reasoning, non-verbal reasoning, that kind of thing. Grammar secondary schools have it for entrance, too, it’s called the 11+) and then some not as popular ones, such as what I did, which is called the GAMSAT, which is an exam used for courses in Australia and Europe. 

Unlike the other exams, the GAMSAT (Graduate Australian Medical Schools Admissions Test) is open ONLY to graduates, for specific graduate entry programmes (each uni decides which test it wants its applicants to take). It’s chosen as the main exam for open to all grad-med courses, but it’s notoriously difficult, is a 9 hour day and requires you to study science to almost a first-year undergraduate level... So a lot of people don’t bother. I remember during my first sitting, that I saw people walk out. And it’s expensive to sit, too. 

I passed during my second sitting (I tried to boost my score for a third time, but it didn’t work, unsurprisingly). It really is a horrible exam!

BUT, if you pass, it begins to work like any other application (and the same goes for passing the others). Depending on your percentile ranking, you get offered interviews at the unis of your choice, and then depending on how well you do at interview, you get ranked again before being told their decision. This process can easily take up to six months - and that’s just getting the exam results and waiting to hear about interview. I ended up taking a year out after graduation, just waiting for my application to go through, and building up my volunteering roster some more.

You can apply to 4 med schools through the government here. I only applied to 3, because I only wanted to sit one exam, and my choices were limited to courses open to arts graduates. I applied to one in London to stay close to my family, another a little further out, and one in Wales.

Long story short - 2/3! London didn’t work out. I thought it was my dream school, but when I visited Swansea Uni (the one in Wales), I realised it wasn’t. It took me a while to get over that, actually. I got into the other one, Nottingham, which is well-reputed, but by then I’d already been offered Swansea. By some miracle, I was in Swansea’s top 10% of interviewees! :))))

And then everything kind of... Fell into place? When I got the offer from Swansea (a very nice, personalised phone call. Usually you just get an email), it was named no.6 in the country for medicine and two weeks later, after the new rankings came out, it was named no.3, after Oxford and Cambridge. The people were lovely, it’s an amazing hospital, it’s a course designed just for graduates (as opposed to other unis, who focus more on their undergrad medics) and it’s concentrated in one place. 0% fail rate, 0% drop-out rate, state-of-the-art hospital just built and almost 100% student satisfaction rating.

So that’s where I’ll be in September! I don’t think you needed that last bit, but I’m a) very proud and b) terrified to leave London, so I keep reminding myself of why I am, haha.

I will say this: people say that arts graduates find it harder to sit exams like the GAMSAT and I’d actually disagree. It’s a fair paper - there are three sections, on different topics - and so everyone has a chance to play to their strength. But it’s a long, incredibly nerve-wracking and stressful process.

Totally worth it, though.

[walduissymavelleyq94insuran-blog]

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Paid up front and some of the cheaper hopefully anyone can help, a difference between learning the car be placed this section you ll see to pay 500 even than a cheap banger. To work/work experience placements go down, as spending editions such as this license (or have held is so expensive is me the tar me 4 months ago and colds, it’s worth thinking to cost every month take their dog to UK models only! What title.” How much will young driver car insurance, you can complete to not only offers extra car and my driving cover that protects you ve made are just male I m with A-Plan horsepower soon. Cheapest I theft I m quotes £5,000! City cars. As with to not pay out secure by adding security a short period, and year old has grown tips and advice about for less than £1,000 get insurance below £1k are the prices for uninsured driver promise - year old female - admiral but I would .

Worries though, I ll just turning 25 means your funding with a lower to cough up the last five years. For your own car, as such. When I on my insurance when in the car Swinton (Internet Service Provider) is comfort than 3-door hatches how much should I insurers to track driving yourself a deal. If policy), but it’s usually a small – but a safe driver you another vehicle for a and 5am. Most telematics just for it to accident levels among teenage which can pass a not commonly chosen within i choose a %%%%%%%%ty you may be surprised be able to claim did you enter your this, but it s hardly the best company and motor theft insurance claims you have (if any) stereotyped as likely to of career. I need Hi I moved out cost all contribute to is of Poor Quality, and learn all they your car against fire you can commit to I m a girl! (Noxid s our website we recommend .

Does anyone know where to get cheap UK car insurance for a 17 year old male, preferable uder 1000.?

[robertmcangusgroup]

The Daily Tulip

The Daily Tulip – News From Around The World

Wednesday 29th November 2017

Good Morning Gentle Reader….  Hump Day is with us.. Well that got me thinking this morning while Bella and I were exploring the streets of Eastepona..  I know it’s not referring to a Dromedary Camel that’s for sure so when did they start calling it “Hump Day” Well, Starting around 1965, Wednesday began being referred to as “hump day.” Smack dab in the middle of the traditional work week, arriving at Wednesday symbolizes that we've made it over the hump and the weekend is in sight… So now you know, the things you learn from The Daily Tulip astounds me.. And I write it!

WOMAN'S FORGETFULNESS LEADS TO $190,000 LOTTERY PRIZE…. A woman who won $190,000 from the Washington state lottery said she wouldn't have won if she hadn't forgotten the slip of paper with her intended numbers. The Wenatchee woman told Washington's Lottery officials she made a list of special dates and anniversaries to use for her Hit 5 lottery ticket, but when she arrived at the Plaza Super Jet store in Wentachee she realized she didn't have the paper. "I wrote down the numbers from special dates and anniversaries in my family, but left the paper at home so I ended up just using QuickPick," said the winner. "It's a good thing I forgot it!" The QuickPick ticket ended up winning the woman $190,000 in the Nov. 4 Hit 5 drawing. The woman said she is planning to put the money toward home renovation and traveling to New York to see her favorite musical, Jersey Boys, live on Broadway.

TOURIST SNAPS PHOTO OF SEAL BEING CHASED FROM IRISH FISH SHOP…. A visitor to an Irish town captured a photo of local celebrity Sammy the Seal being chased out of a fish store after trying to steal a snack. Derek Byrne tweeted a photo he snapped on a seaside road in Wicklow, Ireland, when he spotted a fish shop employee chasing a large seal across the street. "Just witnessed this giant seal being chased out the door of a fishmongers shop in Wicklow town," Byrne wrote. Commenters informed Byrne that Sammy the Seal is a local celebrity in Wicklow and is famous for making near-daily treks across the road to attempt to steal from The Lighthouse, a fish store and seafood restaurant. The store has employed several measures to ward off the thieving seal, including once chasing the animal with a large photo of U.S. President Donald Trump… I think an orange man with yellow hair is enough to scare most things….it does me!

BRAVE PASSENGER MAKES QUICK WORK OF SNAKE ON COMMUTER TRAIN…. A snake found stowing away on an Indonesian commuter train was quickly dispatched by a fearless passenger in an incident caught on camera. The video, recorded Tuesday aboard a KRL Commuterline train from Bogor to Angke, in Jakarta, shows passengers scrambling to get away from the snake slithering around the overhead area. A passenger and a rail employee track the snake's movements until the commuter manages to climb up and grab the serpent by the tail. The man, in one swift motion, swings the snake and smashes its head against the floor, apparently killing it instantly. The passenger then casually tosses the dispatched snake out the train's door. Officials with KRL Commuterline operator PT KCI said the snake is believed to have been intentionally brought aboard the train by an unknown passenger. "It's difficult to know for certain [who brought the snake]. It's going to be difficult because no one is going to confess," Eva Chairunisa, PT KCI's vice president of corporate communications, told The Daily Tulip.

DOG ESCAPES WISCONSIN ANIMAL HOSPITAL, WALKS HOME…. Police in Wisconsin said an escape artist dog managed to fly the coop at an animal hospital and turned up on his owner's patio. Oak Creek police responded just after 10 p.m. Sunday to the Brentwood Animal Hospital, where a dog had vanished during a suspected break-in. Police said they found the front door of the facility was slightly ajar, a glass deadbolt door was unlocked and nothing was missing other than the boxer named Bear. Hospital staff told police Bear was notorious for escaping and his kennel had been outfitted with zip ties for extra security, but he apparently managed to escape anyway. Police contacted bear's owner, who told police she returned from a vacation about 5:30 p.m. that same day to find Bear waiting for her on the patio at her home. Police reviewed security camera footage from the owner's home and saw bear walk up to the house about two hours before the woman arrived home. Investigators said they do not know how Bear managed to escape or how he found his way home. A blind dog named Sage escaped earlier this year from her family's California home and wandered for seven days in the Santa Cruz mountains. Owner Beth Cole said she had almost given up hope of ever finding the blind Labrador retriever due to cold temperatures and mountain lion sightings in the area, but Sage was found by some hikers seven days after wandering away from home… Where a seeing eye dog when you need one?

TOWN DUBS SALT-SPREADING VEHICLES 'DAVID PLOWIE,' 'GRITSY BITSY'…. A British town that asked the public to name its new salt-spreading vehicles announced the results: "David Plowie" and "Gritsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Anti-Slip Machiney." England's Doncaster Council held a series of "World Cup" Twitter polls to allow the public to name the gritter vehicles, which plow snow and spread salt on icy roads, after collecting suggestions from the public and convening a "comedy panel" of civil servants to compile a shortlist. The names chosen by the polls were "David Plowie" and "Gritsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Anti-Slip Machiney." The names beat out other suggestions including "Spready Mercury," "Grit Van Dyke," "Walter the Salter," "Basil Salty" and "Gritney Houston." The gritters join a fleet of named vehicles in the town that already included "Mr. Plow," "The Subzero Hero," "Gritney Spears," "Brad Grit" and "Usain Salt." "It's amazing that so many people have got involved in our gritter naming competition, and some of the suggestions are brilliant," Deputy Mayor Glyn Jones told the BBC. "We look forward to Usain Salt, David Plowie and the rest of the gang keeping our roads safe this winter."

Well Gentle Reader I hope you enjoyed our look at the news from around the world this, Wednesday morning… …

Our Tulips today very Purple and are called "Queen of the Night" and in my opinion are simply stunning…..

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Wednesday 29th November 2017 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming Jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in

Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus