#I’ve got at least one tapestry per character here I think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buttercupsfrocks · 5 years

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Hey, Tumblr, did you know that there’s an Interior Design Police as well as a Fashion Police?! Strangely neither did I until I stumbled upon a listicle entitled 75 Things No Woman Over 50 Should Own on the delusionarily titled bestlifeonline.com. There, along with the usual arbitrary selections of sartorial crimes against humanity, (tracky bottoms, skinny scarves, bolero jackets), were the following:-

Tapestries. (What, even if one designed and made them oneself, comme ça?)

Neon signs.

A piggy bank.

Novelty salt and pepper shakers, (Oops!)

A vinyl tablecloth.

Novelty pillows. (Dang!)

A rolodex.

Indoor wicker furniture.

A lava lamp. (Who doesn’t love a lava lamp? Not this fully paid up B52s fan, I can assure you).

A dish of seashells. (D’oh! Missed the memo again).

Framed autographs (yep, got one of those too).

Talk about random. And there’s more; much more. It appears I should have jettisoned my giant pin boards at least twenty years ago, along with my magnifying mirror, stuffed animals, coloured pens, fairy lights, frameless posters, cheap mismatched silverware, decorations based on cartoon characters, mismatched towels, striped wallpaper, tassels, and elaborate keychains. (They’d have a blue fit if they knew that one of my keychains has both a twiddly fake key and a tassel on it). In fact the entire website is little more than an endless litany of stuff you should feel ashamed about owning, wearing, and in some cases, even saying. Like I totes can’t say “totes” – me, a writer, who loves slang so much she has at least a bookshelf-and-a-half dedicated to it. I also can’t say: “OMG”, “humblebrag”, “talk to the hand”, “fauxpology”, “sorry not sorry”, “I can’t even”, “as if”, “sus”, (a term in common UK parlance among people of all age groups for the duration of my lifetime), “ship”, (fuck you; Spuffy forever), and…wait for it…”adulting”, even though I plainly know a good deal more about doing it than the embarrassingly embarassable twelve year old ninny who probably wrote the article.

And still on the subjects of lists that give me the right royal pip, there’s thelist.com.

“If you are familiar with Dr Martens, you are too old to wear them.”

I’m sorry, what now?!

“We know those Crocs and orthopaedic shoes are super comfy, but they're not doing you any favours. There's something to be said for smart, sensible footwear, but you don't have to sacrifice your style and give away your age just to save yourself a few blisters”.

Unless of course you suffer with any kind of condition that dictates you have to wear fugly orthopaedic footwear, as numerous older people do. And blisters are the least of my problems, bub. Believe me the bunting and party hats come out when I can persuade anything approaching normal-looking footwear to accommodate my orthotics. Doc Martens are one of the precious few options available to me. I am, incidentally, feeling especially “salty” (another word my age precludes me from using), about this right now as, having discovered I can sometimes wear sandals with a moulded orthotic-like sole, these Office sandals...

...which I genuinely love and desperately wanted to rock this summer, damn near crippled me when I tried them on.

For all the blather about older women being able to cast off the shackles of convention and wear what we please, (or whatever the expert du jour thinks is within reason), the same unspoken assumptions that prevail in mainstream ladymedia are present in spades on these websites. Nobody reading could possibly be fat, or if they are they’re assumed to be fighting their poor beleaguered bodies unto death. The only chub ever alluded to, (albeit soto voce), is “middle aged spread”, but only the vestigial kind that can be miraculously rendered invisible by the belting of an “unflattering” oversized garment in the middle.

“Show off your curves by adding a cute belt to that dress or coat. It will accentuate your shape and let you still wear those comfortable items in your wardrobe without looking like you're wearing a muumuu.”

Never mind that I quite like wearing a muumuu, far from showing off my curves, belting any of my coats would make me look like the Albert Hall, which while undoubtably a Look, is not one I’m after.

“Balance is important when it comes to crafting a stylish look. Wearing oversized clothing disrupts that delicate equilibrium and unintentionally ages you.”

What. Ever.

The hectoring never lets up.

“There really is no such thing as grown up glitter when it comes to apparel, so it's best to accept that fact and avoid glittery tops, bottoms, and everything else!”

“Dressing like the '80s or '90s can be fun for a party, but being attached to a trend from your youth can look tired and disconnected and therefore can make one age themselves.”

“Large prints, especially on a tight clothing item like leggings, are an avoid-at-all-costs look. They are just too loud and aren't a piece that helps you look your best”

Among the ten items everyday.health.com bans me from wearing on account of my encroaching dotage are “too trendy denim”. Apparently I’m “not in my element” with it so my hard work was all for nought. Also verboten are oversized, overly decorated hobo bags, cheap unflattering underwear; (fat chance of finding cheap underwear in plus-sizes anyway though apparently I should do like the Sainted Gwyneth and wear Spanx under everything. Because she totally needs to and I so enjoy colic); and…wait for it…wait for it...

...“loud accessories”. This includes, horror of horrors, plastic earrings, which apparently I forfeited the right to wear at 35. (Do they count vintage phenolic, bakelite, and lucite as plastic I wonder? Because if enough rich older women get dissuaded from wearing it I might actually be able to afford some instead of faking it). Instead I’m exhorted to make a...

“Stunning Substitute: think quality and quantity. Limit yourself to one funky accessory per outfit – as long as it’s well-made. Think a leopard-print scarf, thin silver bangles or a gold clutch to dress up nice jeans and a simple top”.

Yeah, no. And, by the way here’s a picture of Helen Mirren in quite the loudest plastic necklace I’ve ever seen which, as you can plainly see, ages her terribly.

*snort*

Which brings me neatly to the subject of role models. Dame Helen comes up a lot. Here’s Harper’s Bazaar with some more:

“Pay close attention to the way women like Robin Wright, Julianne Moore, and Kristin Scott Thomas dress. And revel in the moment when you can justify shopping for labels like Céline, Calvin Klein, Jil Sander, and the Row — because not all sweaters are created equal. The Perfect Length (not too long, not Rihanna short), with the just-tantalizing-enough neckline, is more than worth the extra zeros”.

Wow. So much nope to pick apart in just three sentences!

Firstly, while I’m sure they’re all perfectly charming, I look nothing at all like any of these women, so why would I aspire to their style? Secondly, they have allllllll the extra zeros in their bank accounts while I have zero zeros. Thirdly, even if I could afford any of those labels, (a sweater from The Row costs well over a thousand quid by the way), why the love of little fluffy kittens would anyone think I want to dress like this?

I mean I know I like an oversized garment but I’m good with Monki, thanks. If that lot doesn’t say, “this was the only shit I could find to fit me”, I don’t know what does. And quite what the tiny, terminally haggard looking Olsen twins, who dreamed up the wretched label, would look like in any of this eye-bleedingly expensive folderol I shudder to think. You’d probably need to send in the fire brigade to find them in all that fabric, poor loves.

At its root shaming-as-entertainment is a tool for capitalism, both simple and complex. Feel mortified for owning something age inappropriate? Buy something new and more grown up, preferably at enormous expense. Or, if pay day’s too far off, invest in some garbage gossip rag and bitch about the state of those richer and more famous than you are. It’ll make you feel great for all of five minutes, then you can fill the emptiness that follows in its wake with some cheap fast fashion or cake. Even though cake is naughty and unclean and fast fashion is killing the environment; but hey that’s what diet books (kerching!) and gym memberships (kerching!) and ethical fashion, (with a cut-off size of 16), are for, right?

Ironically, in yet another catalogue of grievous mistakes to make once you’re over forty, bestlifemyarse.com includes “neglecting your mental health” and “basing yourself-worth on what other people think”. But how the hell are women expected to do that under a constant barrage of opprobrium, not least since also included in the aforementioned list is “avoiding the scale”?

Tumblr, I put it to you that people are just as likely to buy stuff if they’re feeling good about themselves than if they’re feeling shite. I fucking love stuff but there has to be an alternative way to sell it that’s less damaging to our sanity and self esteem. That’s in part why fat women created their own media. But, the more it edges into the mainstream, the more it it puts the wind up advertisers and those who rely on their sponsorship. So now our message – the one about self acceptance and being able to live unrepentantly in the bodies we have – has been appropriated, de-fanged, and rebranded as “Body Positivity”, an ersatz movement intended to reassure average-sized women fretful they might be a little bit fat, with the added proviso, “as long as you’re healthy”, (i.e not fat). And while the net abounds with token examples of older lady bloggers granted the status of fashion maven, they’re all slender as reeds, and most of them are ex-models. Big fucking whoop. Meanwhile anyone of any age who is objectively fat is “promoting obesity” simply by expressing our personal style in public.

My collection of shells incidentally, includes some my mum brought me back from the Channel Islands when I was a child; a conch a friend dove for in the Virgin Islands and presented me for my 19th birthday; several beauties that held pride of place in a late family friend’s study for decades; an abalone shell from New Zealand plucked from the beach by my Kiwi pal Di; a sand dollar from Ocean Beach in San Francisco given to me by my dear friend Jude who died of secondary breast cancer a few months before Jane did; some pebbles gathered with my friend Lesley in literal sub-zero temperatures on a completely deserted beach one not-so-flaming June up north, both of us in hysterics over the utter bleakness of it all, and a load more shells from the Pembrokeshire coast contributed by my friend Steve’s departed mum back in the 1980s. Even the bowl itself was given to me by Karen, whose parents found it in the attic of their new house and thought I might like it. It’s a veritable a lifetime in shells; a celebration of love and friendship spanning decades. In short it has meaning, which is a damned sight more than you can say for any of these wretched lists.

Rise above the buzzkill, Tumblr.

#What I'm wearing #Plus size style #Fatshion #OOTDs #Ageism #Sizeism #Got my ranty pants on #Fuck fashion rules #Fuck interior design rules too

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lilyandherboys · 7 years

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Fic Rec

I have officially hit 300 followers, which means this fic rec will finally be coming out of the depths of my phone’s notes app! I tried to give a lot of information on the fics, more for my sanity than anything else, but it should give a pretty good overview of what’s up in them. I’m pretty sure there’s a good mix of shorter and longer fics and most of these are Lily-centric and pretty fluffy with a good sprinkle of angst. Some of these you’ve probably already read, but they are some of my absolute favorites so they might be worth a reread or a first read if you haven’t already! I do have a bunch of Percabeth fics that I think I’m saving for another milestone or smthn jsyk. Thank you all so much for 300 followers and I hope to continue posting my own fics soon! <3

sunshine in my eyes -

Author’s Summary - Mr. and Mrs. Evans are killed when Lily's only a girl, and she's supposed to go to a home with her sister. Instead, a relative they didn't know they had comes to collect them, and introduces Lily to manners, magic, and a life that's just the slightest bit different from the life she was supposed to live.

Or, an AU in which Minerva McGonagall raises Lily.

My opinions - This is so cute? It has baby Lily and James and also a lot of Petunia and Lily interaction which is v cute. Also McGonagall which I think might be part of what inspired my McGonagall post. Also Lily tying her hair up with ivy which is my Aesthetic. It gets more and more angsty the more to the end it gets, because it follows them out of school and everything but the tone of it is always cute. Like idk how else to describe it but cute. Cute and angsty. Not canon compliant, but in the best way.

Quality Quote - “You are not a ship to be battered in a storm, or a sailor at dock, watching it rage, and waiting for it to pass.” Her eyes were bright, blazing. “You are the storm, my dear.”

the bakes of wrath -

Author’s Summary - Lily Evans and James Potter are contestants on the 2015 Great British Bake Off. Lily is determined to beat James. James is determined to win. And to make good cakes. Rivalries and Twitter wars ensue.

My opinions - Another cute one, except this one has basically zero angst. Like none. Also Twitter wars, which is a trope I can always get behind. Snape’s Twitter handle is @torturedgenius which is hilarious tbh. There’s a tiny, tiny bit of Wolfstar, and also Sirius has a cat. Overall v good and v fluffy and not one to read while you’re hungry.

Quality Quote - “You fancy her.” Sirius said, pointing an accusing finger at his friend. “That’s your fancying a girl look. You fancy her!”

the road to 100 -

Author’s Summary - Lily Evans is stressed. Her sister has a fiancé, she's overwhelmed by her Head Girl work, and James Potter won't leave her alone. Although that last one may not be such a problem…

My Opinions - This is the most canon compliant fic on the list. Normally I hate the whole “Lily starts out hating James” thing but on this one the author pulled it off the best I think I’ve ever seen. It’s also pretty good about keeping you interested - a good mix of normal school life and then conflict. It’s got Lily being friends with all the boys, which I love, and also mom Lily, which is gr8. Oh! Also Lily that can handle pranks without internally combusting and has a couple of her own tricks up her sleeve. I think this might be the only one on this list that isn’t completed though, just as a warning.

Quality Quote - “Oh, I’m just joking.” Lily held aside a tapestry that hid a secret corridor. She only knew about it from following James Potter and Peter Pettigrew after one of their midnight jaunts to the kitchens. It was an educational stalk, she had reasoned. Learning the location of the kitchens could definitely come in handy later.

just stay here tonight -

Author Summary - AU. Lily Evans isn't a witch.

My Opinions - basically Lily isn’t a witch but Petunia is. It’s pretty similar to Sunshine In My Eyes but much shorter and it pretty much dives straight into the angst. Also in Lily’s view, which I actually think all these fics are at least partly in. Also includes an Aunty Petunia. And a pretty good amount of sister interaction. And Lily the mom, which is always adorable. And the classic Harry in a reindeer costume trope that I will always get hyped for. Great characterization and a great AU and overall a good fic to read when you’re at the “one more before bed” stage.

Quality Quote - She laughs, and he asks her what her opinion on deer is. “Specifically, stags.”

in fields of poppies -

Author Summary - Her grandfather's war and her father's war were fought with metal and manpower. Hers was done with magic.

My opinions - This fic is the most Lily centric I think, but I kinda appreciate it. Also she smokes in this, which normally I hate (i have a lot of cancer and asthma and general deaths due to smoking in my family), but the way it’s presented and used as kind of a plot device is really interesting. This fic generally is very well written and has really good imagery and other such nice things. It’s not really AU per say but the way it’s written and the discussion of Lily’s family is original and very well thought out. Another fic where Lily knows Exactly what she’s doing and I love it. A good kinda short read with a lot of character insight and non forced Jily interaction.

Quality Quote - She fought because this was a war entirely to do with her: her rights, her status, her entire life. Doing nothing had never been an option; her integrity would not allow it. It was always her war to win.

#jily fic recs #jily #jily fanfiction #james potter #lily evans #harry potter and the cursed child #sirius black #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #marauders #hp

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papermoth-bird-blog · 5 years

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Mexico: the dog days of Donna & Dianne.

As Katie, Celeste & I sat at the bar one night in Tulum, she laughed at the characters we had taken on. Celeste with her dark winged sunnies, was Dianne, a serious business woman on vacation. She’s a bit of a mom type, but knows how to party. Or maybe a model with a business brain. I laughed and agreed that there was a certain quality Celeste had about herself here, she was definitely a Dianne. Every time the humidity mingles with my hair, it grows like a 80s hairband groupie. Since the villa, Katie has been calling this character that accompanies it, Donna. From what I can tell, Donna seems like a bit of a mall rat, with questionable aesthetic tastes. I’m pretty sure it was Donna that picked out the leopard print bathing suit I’ve been wearing here. She was probably the one that picked out the ripped t-shirt I’ve been favouring too. Between all of us, Dianne & Donna have been welcomed guests in the friend group. They’ve mixed it up a little bit & added quite a bit of humour. Especially as we met new people and they started calling us Donna & Dianne because they thought those were our real names.

The last few days in Mexico were certainly slow moving ones too. In the heat, there is something more difficult about motivating yourself to do something more than just eating cold things and hanging out on the beach. I tried to channel that lacks attitude towards doing some internal work- diary writing, and a lot of reading. I finished two books over that time- which felt really good.

Overall, I have kind of felt like I already have one foot out of the door of this trip. I don’t want to say I am bored per se, because I have been able to fill my time with things that have certainly entertained me. Things I do not normally have time to work on, but I when I stay put, I want to be able to to crafts, which isn’t easy to source out here. I also have become so used to my alone time, I feel myself dissociating when I don’t get enough of it. Spending more time of my phone, my eyes glazing over, tuning people out- not on purpose, but as a symptom of not practicing what I now know about myself. I mean, I’m glad that I am learning these things about myself now. in the past, it was always very alarming when I felt myself dissociating and not being aware in the slightest as to why that was happening.

I am trying to be both honest with myself about how I am feeling, and productive with the time I have. I am learning I am not so much a beach-vacation kind of person- or rather, it just is not something I find stimulating or relieving at this moment of time. I want to read and be in cultural hubs. I want to meet people that are hustling and doing interesting things for themselves and their wider community. I want to see weird community theatre & support musicians who are still finding their footing. Maybe I’ll be ready for a vacation like that when I’m older and need a break. Right now though, I am sitting very comfortable with my life & am enjoying the momentum I feel in my life. I don’t need a break from my life! I love my life! I want to keep living and growing.

Celeste & Katie & I decided to watch “The Dirt” which is the new MOtley Crue Biopic. It was gratitous and crude in every way you can imagine. It was humbling in the way that it reminded me of all the things I am committing to cutting out of my life. And all the ways I am happy without those things. Yet, there is the smallest part of me, that still has this tiny crush on Tommy Lee. I think it’s just residual from my persistent love of drummers.

We expanded out food choices beyond just tacos finally- eating a soup dish called pasole (sp??). It comes in two varieties- green and read. The vegetarian version is basically just made of these giant corn kernels that are an ancient crop here. Eli was telling us that I may be a have originated from this really ancient mayan dish with a dark back story (that involves human sacrifices) but I am not entirely sure if I buy it. There is a little female chihuahua that lives around the corner from us that we named after the soup. Katie has been going back and forth in her mind as to whether or not she wants to adopt her and bring her home to Canada. I keep tell her that I’m pretty sure she has a family. There are just so many dogs in Mexico & most of them don’t wear collars. These stray dogs are honestly one of my favourite parts of Mexico. My craving to own a dog is becoming more and more real. I am starting to feel as if I finally may be ready to settle down enough to handle that amount of responsibility too.

Speaking of dogs- I have been trying to embrace the dog days attitude. I only really go to the cafes to drink fruit juices and lounge around reading. CoConAmour has been a really good spot for that. It’s a little more of a gentrified cafe- but has a very relaxed bohemian vibe about it. The seating area is outside & full of couches and comfy chairs draped with tapestries. The menu is centred on fresh & healthy vegetarian options. The little store out front has all kinds of health foods. They also run all kinds of dance & excersize work shops during the day & evenings. There are some other little cafes that encourage this really laid back attitude- but this one was the best for it. No one is in a rush there, which is admittedly a relief.

The funny thing is, that a few of the real locals- the ones who are from this area- jokingly apologized to me at several points about Mexicans moving at such a slow pace. This joke is familiar to me, as we say the same thing amongst the Mediterranean side of my family. In my experience, however, I haven’t felt Mexico being a particular laid back kind of place. I am positive it is because of the driving tourist industry. The whole area depends on it and because of that, everyone is trying to hustle as much as they can. In doing so, many are literally just trying to rip you off as much as possible, preying on the fact that tourists don’t have a full grasp on the currency & the language. It’s been breaking my heart in a few different ways (and Katie has notably been upset by it too). I mean, I understand it all and why it happens like this,. It just reminds me how how nasty capitalism is- how much it divides us, how much it is used to oppress other people. It’s hard to be around, but for that reason I’ve been trying to really process it, instead of looking away from it.

When the group wanted to go out dancing, I have stayed home. I’ve been enjoying being low key more and more. Celeste’s last night- I did end up going out though. And I was definitely glad I did. The bar we went to was a little more low key. I had a couple virgin cocktails with real sugar cane. So I basically sat there, chewing on cane getting up to dance when they put the Talking Heads “This must be the place” on over the PA. *That song is one of the songs that has been following me around along this trip* I slipped out early with Eli- as I was getting pretty tired at the point that I felt everyone up revving up for the night. Katie’s new friend Ross was ordering multiple drinks at once, and I could Tell Zeus was also keen to stay out as late as possible. We did all make plans to go on an adventure the following day, however. (Besides Celeste, of course, who was leaving early the next day). Zeus was heading into Merida, the state capital. Ross & I were pretty keen on seeing the huge Mayan ruins in Cabo.

The next morning, Eli & I both got out of bed at our regular early hour. Celeste came in to say a quick goodbye & departed for the bus stop. Katie took much longer to even begin stirring. Of course, what they said was going to “for sure be an early night” ended up being quite a long, drunken one. That’s fine by me too, I think the both of them were keen to have that kind of night at one point. I was just glad that I decided to go home before it escalated too much. Ross came over, and we picked up Zeus. By then, it was the afternoon, and we didn’t really have all that much time to get to Merida- especially if we wanted to explore the towns along the way.

We decided to stop in Valladolid where Zeus could get out and take the bus to Merida. As soon as we saw the quiet little town, we decided to stay for a least a short while. The building were all low and painted in pastel colours. They reminded me slightly of some of the houses in San Francisco. The streets were all cobble stone & pretty narrow. At the centre of town, was a beautiful square with a huge spanish church at one end. We decided to eat lunch & then walk around some more. As we did, we feel more in love. Katie was so relieved to be experiencing this side of Mexico. The people were much more genuine, and must less pushy & ready to joke along with you. Ross & I picked out a few post cards as we exchanged travel stories.

Ross has told us so many stories about his adventures in Kaui, it has really planted a seed about going there. He described it in such a magical way- as a place filled with such magic & stillness & spirit. He shared a really difficult story, about coming across the body of a hiker under a waterfall. It broke the spell of the magic of travelling- but only enough to remind us all of what a privilege it is to be able to visit these places & explore these spaces. More than that though, what a privilege it is to be alive & be able to simply live our lives.

Again, we got caught up exploring the town. As the time ticked by, we realized it was too late to get to the pyramid (because we were on the boarder of two different time zones, so confusing!) We embraced it & ventured over to the Centote at the center of town. We didn’t have high hopes, exactly for it. I mean, it was at the centre of the town! And there were so many cars around. We walked through the small market place past the brick walls & paid the small entrance fee. To enter the Cenotote, you have to walk through this underground tunnel. In the tunnel, there are usually a few men dressed like animals- in the ways the Mayans did in ceremony.

When you finally break through to the light on the otherside, the view is breath taking. it was like something out of Ferngully. The Centote (Zaci) was such a piecing pure blue. Not to mention the fact that it was absolutely huge. It is half in a cave, but the sun drips in past the vines. Further back in the cave, it is cool, and those who are not swimming seek shelter there. There is such a family feeling there. Though so many people are there, it never feel cramped. There is just enough reverence held for the place, the magic remains. Even as everyone jumps of the cliff edges into the pool of water. It was without a doubt, the highlight of the trip for me & am go grateful to be able to experience. Especially knowing that this was such a sacred space for the indigenous people of the area. (.... and probably the site of many sacrifices).

We made our way back to Tulum slowly, enjoying the time we had outside of town. As we ate dinner in the little taqueria, we watched the most gorgeous plum sunset drop down behind the lake. I was so content to be in the world, be there, but alone in my head. It fuelled a lot of fodder, but in a healthy way. I found myself coming to centre again. It was such a relief.

When we woke the next morning, Katie & Ross were again, so to rise. We again ran out of time to make it to the ruins with enough time for me to catch my bus to the airport. It was okay with me, though, as I was actually becoming so excited to go to Ontario. A feeling that was utterly foreign to me, and relieving in a way I can’t quite pin point. Katie & Ross decided to go on their own. I again said some quick goodbyes (quick goodbyes are preferable) & got to packing. I did my best to clean up the air b n b & said my final goodbye to Eli. I hadn’t had to lug all my bags in a long time, and I was again humbled, by the effort I had to put in to keep up a good pace. I kinda laughed at myself though & the fact that every time I thought my bag was the absolute fullest it could be, I managed to fit more things in it.

I got to the bus station with ten minutes to go before the next bus. The line was quite big & I was becoming nervous I would miss it. I started to sweat for more the heat. The next bus wasn’t for 3 and a half hours. As I got to the booth & handed her my card, she informed me that I could only pay with card more than an hour in advance of the bus’ departure. I cursed under my breath as I had gone pretty much the whole trip without much cash- only using card. I picked apart my bag, looking through pockets of pants I had worn in my travels through the US, knowing I had shoved ones into some of them. I had also paid for dinner the night before & Ross had given me some Pesos in return. After my frantic search, I put the crumpled pile of notes on the counter- I literally had just enough, by some wink of the universe. I ran onto the bus & allowed myself to breathe out finally.

I got to the airport extraordinarily early, which meant I was able to spend a lot fo quality time with my book. The Cancun airport is kind of funny- it’s so american. All the food. All the prices. So purely targeted at Americans. I got stir crazy & ended up getting myself a whole pizza which I ate at the quiet end of the airport. I became so wrapped up in my book, I hardly looked up at the time. When I did, I realized that my flight should be boarding any minute & I hadn’t looked up my gate yet. I ran to the board, then to the gate, just in time to board. I guess that was my cardio for the day. I’ve never been so restless on the plane. Most often I manage to sleep, this time I couldn’t manage it though. I was hardly able to meditate either. And I had finished my book. I was so excited to get off the plane and see my family.

I finally understand why people get all kerfuffled at lines in airports & the long hallways. At Pearson I found myself running down the freezing hallways- still dressed as if I was in Mexico. Out of the doors, I saw my parents and my brother Isaac. In so many ways I felt like I had travelled all that way- all around the States- to come here. And I am so glad to be here now.

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