#Joanna OJ
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Joanna OJ - Knekelhuis # 90 (Knekelhuis, 2022)
Her mix is a soothing beauty, a tumbling world that stimulates underwater-esque sensations through our eardrums. Gorgeous and kaleidoscopic.
#2020s#france#Joanna OJ#electronic#leftfield#experimental#techno#downtempo#kaleidoscopic#mix#podcast#soundcloud#women in electronic music#Knekelhuis#2022
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As joanna would enter the first bar of her hop, she'd receive a text from what seemed to be an unknown number, it simply read
"Hamon user joanna joestar. I have a humble request I can only make of someone with your caliber in skill of the ripple. I know you have reservations of working with the business I now head, however I assure you with the change in management and business focus, I am sure you may find working with us much more agreeable. Please reach out to my subordinates around morioh if you're interested, they wear jackets with the rook chess piece emblazoned on the sides of the shoulders."
-SPW GM Joseph rivera
However as soon as she'd finish reading it the bartender would serve her a screwdriver with fresh orange, pointing to a fellow seated a few chairs down
"From the gentleman over there..."
A man with black hair and a black tank top would be relaxing in a chair next to her enjoying a drink of his own, white and blue jacket slung over his shoulder
"Nothing beats a fresh morning OJ huh? Glad to see I'm not alone in enjoying a morning drink"
Joanna sighs, looking down at the tiny phone screen and reading. She shoves the cellphone back in her pocket as she takes a seat, drinking time's no time for work talk. Last thing she needs is a migraine-
She ponders the drink for a moment, looking up to the bartender and, eventually, the man just a little ways away. She takes a sip of the drink as she eyes him up and down.
" 'Guess so. Didn't have anything better to do."
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Praca licencjacka socjologia pdf
PRACA LICENCJACKA SOCJOLOGIA PDF >>Download (Descargar)
vk.cc/c7jKeU
PRACA LICENCJACKA SOCJOLOGIA PDF >> Leer en línea
bit.do/fSmfG
MEKSYKAŃSKA TRADYCJA KULINARNA WEDŁUG PRZEPISÓW NA STRONACH INTERNETOWYCH PRACA DYPLOMOWA LICENCJACKA NAPISANA POD KIERUNKIEM dr Joanny Aleksandrowicz La literatura española está llena de imágenes de mujeres inspiradoras, desde la imagen de una mujer mítica hasta las características de las mujeres modernas. En Valoración: 5 · 1 reseña server674212.nazwa.pl/tertium-ojs/JaK/article/download/179/286 Términos de Temas: praca dyplomowa, praca licencjacka, praca magisterska. O nas · Światowy ranking uczelni StuDocu 2021 · Dobrze Ci idzie · Rzetelność akademicka · Oferty pracy · Dutch Website. Kontakt i pomoc. "Euro salon" w Polsat News. Nowe studio "Cafe Euro" w. Beata Cholewińska i Joanna Górska poprowadzą „Nowy. Przykładowa praca licencjacka z socjologii pdf : My Descargue como PDF, TXT o lea en línea desde Scribd Nauk Spoecznych Kierunek: Socjologia - studia dzienne licencjackie I Liceum Oglnoksztacce im. nauera w Polsce za życzliwą i owocną współpracę podczas prac nad wydaniem at/ges/pdf/stgb.pdf, zob. szerzej: E. M. Guzik-Makaruk, de LG Ochoa Siguencia — Wyższa Szkoła Zarządzania Ochroną Pracy w Katowicach / 19.Yższa Szkoła Humanista / 20.Wyższa Szkoła Zarządzania i Nauk Społecznych / 21.
https://www.tumblr.com/kucuxatogol/697775277735067648/no-me-lo-vas-a-creer-alicia-molina-pdf-file, https://www.tumblr.com/kucuxatogol/697775277735067648/no-me-lo-vas-a-creer-alicia-molina-pdf-file, https://www.tumblr.com/kucuxatogol/697775277735067648/no-me-lo-vas-a-creer-alicia-molina-pdf-file, https://www.tumblr.com/kucuxatogol/697775277735067648/no-me-lo-vas-a-creer-alicia-molina-pdf-file, https://www.tumblr.com/kucuxatogol/697775277735067648/no-me-lo-vas-a-creer-alicia-molina-pdf-file.
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May deadass staring at Joanna while drinking pulpy orange juice right out of the carton
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OJ Simpson/Joanna Newsom 4 degrees of separation
OJ Simpson --> Paula Barbieri (dated OJ) --> Michael Bolton (dated Paula) --> Andy Samberg (worked w Michael Bolton through the Lonely Island) --> Joanna Newsom (married to Andy)
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So Future Sounds 063: DJ Smilez (Guest Mix)
🔊 So Future Sounds is a bi-weekly guest mix series that hands over to the best upcoming DJs and producers for a taste of the sounds that represent their world.
🔌For this episode we’re heading to Melbourne in Australia to connect with a DJ and producer called DJ Smilez.
DJ Smilez has built a reputation for championing a blend of Latin Rhythms, Brazilian Drums and Hip-Hop.
To date, he’s released a range of remixes adding his own to creative spin, to records from the likes of Carlos Santana to Skepta.
This mix is a taste of DJ Smilez’s selections and includes some of his edits as well. Enjoy.
Tracklist
KVKA – WOW (SMILEZ EDIT)
KEVAS – ROCKY
DRIFT WITH JOANNA (SMILEZ EDIT)
LIL JON – GET LOW (PAUL MOND FLIP)
UKI - TECHNIQUE (RAKIM’S FLIP)
98 – REACT (OJ.)
HATE IT OR LOVE IT (SOSA EDIT)
I NEED YOUR LOVIN’ (SMILEZ EDIT)
ROCK_WITH_U
JUMP ON IT (GREYBOX EDIT)
MAMA JAMA (NESS CLUB EDIT)
CABU – LA HORA FULL
DA DIPLOMAT BOP (HATCH X KLASIK)
FTP IN VAIN (SMILEZ EDIT)
Download • Listen on Apple Podcasts • Listen on SoundCloud • Listen on Mixcloud
Connect with DJ Smilez: Soundcloud • Instagram
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i mistook that joanna newsom photoset for one of melissa benoist before i saw the caption!!!! also pls share what you DO think is the best ryan murphy show
the oj miniseries like i said fjdjjdjd and yeah omg melissa and joanna look similar!!
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We’re a chain that will never break; Queen x reader
*Author’s note*
Hate to have kept you all waiting for the next part but I wanted to make sure it was to the full FLUFF max after what I made you guys go through with the previous chapter. So I hope this chapter makes up for all the heartbreak I have caused in the previous one, I tried to fill it with as mich fluff and cuteness as I could, and I hope the ending is to ya’ll liking cause I felt like I didn’t end it very good with this chapter.
Anyways I’ve also included some gifs that I know you all will like and I would greatly appreciate it if you all would listen to the song I have linked to you in this chapter to help put you readers in the actual chapter, I promise it’ll be worth while and secretly it’s something that I could imagine our Disco Deacy dancing to with either his wife or to embarrass his kids lol. Okay enough chatting, hope you all enjoy this chapter lovies :)
Taglist *open*
@onebigfangirlworld
@mr-badguymercury
@phantom-fangirl-stuff
@labessieisallama
@starswin
@naturalswifty89
@dj-lowkey
@5sos-wdw
@alexfayer
@isabella-bby
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The next morning I woke up to feel someone softly tucking some strands of my hair behind my ear. When I opened up my wet, teary eyes instead of Brian sitting beside me, there stood Deacy.
“She lives.” He teased with a slight grin spreading across his face. “How are you feeling?”
“Really hungry.” I bluntly stated. It finally began to hit me just how hungry I was due to my stomach growling and knowing at me. Deacy chuckled and said.
“Well lucky for you I’ve made some breakfast for you downstairs.”
“Are Brian and Roger still here?”
“No they stepped out for a bit.”
“Oh.” I said as I looked down. I could feel Deacy’s eyes on me as I refused to look him in the eye.
“It’s not at all what you’re thinking if that’s why you’re so worried. In fact I was the one who told them to take a breather after what happened yesterday. Plus it’s been awhile since you and I had a little one on one time together. Roger’s always stealing you away from me.” That statement got a smile out of me and said.
“Yeah he does get a little obsessive.”
“A little, please instead of calling him your second father, we should just call him the ‘smother’.”
“Can’t argue with that.” I chuckled out. Deacy wrapped his arm around my neck and brought me close to him and said as he playfully gave me a noogie.
“But now I’ve got you all to myself for a while.” I let out a squeak and shoved him away playfully and that’s when I finally took notice of my hands bandaged up.
I began to get worried that I might’ve severely damaged them from all the glass punching I did yesterday, and that they were all scarred up and that if Jack ever saw then he’d never want to put the official wedding ring on my finger with hands like these.
“They’re not that severe (y/n). The doctor only had to pull out four pieces out of your hand. We were given some ointment to put on your hands and within a week or two they’ll be good as new. You’re lucky you know how to throw a good punch, if you hadn’t then this could’ve been a lot worse.”
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that Deacy. I was just—”
“I know love, I know.” He said softly as he leaned his head against mine. His arm now wrapped around my shoulder while his other hand came up and stroked down my head. I felt him kiss my temple and he continued, “But we can wallow about this later, right now the most important thing is to get some food in that belly of yours.” He emphasized his last point by playfully poking me in the stomach making me curl up and giggle. “Come on kid, let’s get you downstairs.”
He untucked me out from the blankets and helped me out of bed and escorted me down the stairs with his arm wrapped around my shoulders. We walked into the kitchen and he pulled out a chair for me to sit in and I gladly sat in it while Deacy went over to the kitchen and picked up a tray and brought it over to me.
On the tray were some pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and of course Deacy’s favorite cheese on toast and a tall glass of orange juice. I thanked him for the breakfast and began eating the eggs first.
Bit by bit my breakfast began to diminish, but it wasn’t until I held onto a piece of the toast as I was eating the last couple of bites of my pancakes when Deacy cheekily leaned over and took a bite of the toast.
“Oi!” He grinned at me his shoulder shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. “Great now it’s got your germs all over it!” I whined out and he said.
“Should’ve immediately ate it then and not held onto it for so long.” He said after swallowing the piece of toast.
“How Veronica puts up with you I’ll never know.”
“Don’t you bring my wife into this conversation. She loves me, I even wrote the song to prove it.” He praised. I shook my head and handed him the toast and he gladly took it and finished it off.
That crazy Deacy and his cheese on toast I swear.
I went and grabbed another piece of toast and as I bite into it Deacy suddenly spoke up.
“Brian told us why you were screaming yesterday.” I stopped midway from my chewing and sighed heavily through my nose. I finished chewing before swallowing and took the last sip of my OJ and leaned against my chair.
“So you and Rog know about the dream I had?” I could see Deacy nodding softly from my peripheral vision. “You know I actually had another one. But the second one was way worse than the first one. It started off like any other work day, just us at the studio making music. At first everything was going well and then you guys turned on me telling me that I had no taste in music, that I was worthless when it came to making music, telling me that Queen would be better off without me. I didn’t even wake up from it so I had to keep hearing you guys say it over and over again until my dream just vanished by morning.”
“Oh (y/n),”
“I don’t get why my brain is tormenting me like this? I mean I know in my heart that you, Rog and Bri would not do what Freddie did, but in my mind, with what I had to endure for the remaining years of my childhood into teenage years……God I just—”
“It’s not something one can get over so easily (y/n). We cannot imagine the verbal abuse you had to go through with Joanna and Graham. We’re not expecting you to just let it go just like that. And Freddie he—he was a bastard for saying those things, and it’s forcing you to relive that pain once more.” Deacy cupped my chin and turned my head around to face him, “It doesn’t matter how many times or how long it takes. We’re gonna make sure that you are as happy as any future bride should be, and the only stressing out you should be doing is figuring out what wedding dress you’re gonna pick out.” I smiled at him and said as I hugged him.
“Aww Deacy, I love you.”
“I love you too. I’m always here for my little sister.” I felt him kiss the side of my head as he held onto me for a bit longer. He then separated from me and stood up and held out both of his hands to me. I looked at him confused and asked him.
“What?”
“Just take them love,” I placed my bandaged hands into his and he delicately gripped them as he helped me stand up and took me out of my kitchen and into my living room. I took notice that some of the furniture had been pushed aside, all except for my record player that stood on a drawer right by the window.
“Deacy what is all this?”
“The one sure fire way to get that true (y/n) smile back on your face.” He said as he knelt down by my record collection and picked up a random record and placed it into the player. He flipped the switch before taking the needle and placing it down on the record.
Play video
And with the volume turned up almost to it’s loudest setting, Kenny Loggins’ song “Footloose” began playing. He swerved around grinning at me as his head bobbed up and down to the beat as his Disco moves began to take over. I tried to fight back the smile and he grinned as he pointed at me.
“Ahh I see it! You can’t hide it now sweetheart, I see that smile.”
“Dick move Deacy. You know I can never stay depressed with this song.”
“I know, that’s why I picked it. Now come on poppet, let me see those moves I taught you.” He said as did the ‘come hither’ motion with his index finger. A smile just spread across my face as I walked towards him and he took my hands and began to playfully move them like the motors of a train trying to get me to dance.
I just let out a series of giggles but just like the first time I ever heard this song, I just let the music control me as my body became possessed by the music and I freely danced.
Dancing like crazy people and bursting out the lyrics, Deacy and I spent the whole song dancing. Doing some of his little dance moves he does on stage or mixing up some dance moves I made for the song like the foot twist. That’s when you only move left to right by first moving your heels then the soles as you just scoot across the rug.
There was also spins, turns, playful dips, bunny hops, twists, anything that Deacy loved to do or that I loved to do when it came to dancing as we both just let the music take over us. When the song came to an end, Deacy held my right hand in his left as I was striking a poise before being spun into his arms and when the music stopped I ended up with an arm wrapped around his neck as we ended in a slight dip. After all that, Deacy and I just couldn’t stop laughing.
“Well Jack’s definitely got himself a good dance partner.”
“Guess I had a good teacher.” I said as he lifted me back up.
“Now what do you say? You up for round 2?” he asked me.
“What have you got in mind, Disco Deacy?”
“Now why must you insist on calling me that?” he said as he went back over to my record collection.
“Everyone calls you that, it fits you because of your dance moves that you do at your shows. Everyone also loves your moves, so don’t you dare try to get people to stop calling you that.” I said as I walked up to him and knelt down beside him and playfully nudged his shoulder.
The rest of the morning with Deacy was spent by dancing to “Disco” music, dancing with each other, singing to the songs very loudly and off key.
At around 20 till noon, Deacy and I were having a cup of tea when he said as he took something out of his pocket.
“Ohh I almost forgot,” I took the piece of paper from him and I unfolded it and it read as followed.
My lovely angel,
Today is all about you. The boys and I agreed that after yesterday’s events you deserved to see that we are your family. And we always will be. Deacy should’ve already taken care of the morning shift and now comes my turn (about bloody time).
Meet me at Hyde park at 12:30 on the dot. Dress casually, no need to get dolled up. I’ll see you then.
Your papa lion,
Roger Taylor
I quickly looked at the clock and back at the note and I said.
“Damn it Deacy why wasn’t I given this earlier?”
“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He shrugged. If this is what it’s like to truly have an older brother then I truly feel your pain if your brothers act like this to you.
Racing back up to my room, I changed out of my old clothes and got on some fresh ones. I cleaned myself up, did my hygiene stuff and raced down the stairs. Deacy stood at the bottom of the stairs and I said to him.
“Hopefully I can still get there in time.”
“Even if you don’t it’ll maybe teach Roger a lesson in the future about being late.” Deacy sassed out. I scoffed at him and shoved his arm making him chuckle.
“Thanks again for this morning Deacy, I really appreciate it.”
“Like I said, I’d do anything for my sister.” He said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder bringing me close to him in a one armed hug and I felt him kiss the top of my head. “Okay I won’t keep you longer, go and meet up with Rog and have a good time, but be safe.”
“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to keep an eye on him.” I said as he released me. I began walking towards the door but I stopped and said as I turned back around towards Deacy. “Last hug.” I embraced him and I felt his chest softly rumble as he chuckled. He wrapped both his arms around me leaning his head against mine. I separated from him and said, “Love you Deaks.”
“Love you too poppet.” He cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead and I walked towards the front door. “And don’t worry I’ll move the furniture back.”
“You better.” I teased as I opened the door and waved bye to him and he waved back and soon I was out the door and on my bike. I turned it on and revved it up and soon took off riding for Hyde Park.
I managed to get to Hyde Park just before the meetup time. I parked my bike and put my helmet away into the compartment seat and walked into the park entrance. As I walked along I soon saw Roger sitting down on a bench with his black shades over his eyes. He looked down at his wristwatch probably wondering where I was.
Feeling a bit playful, I walked around towards the back of the bench where he was sitting at. I tried to surpass my giggles as I silently stalked up towards him and stood there for a moment or two and just before I could scare him I heard him say.
“Don’t even think about it!” I groaned out and said.
“How’d you know it was me?”
“I know everything when it comes to my number 1 girl. I knew you’d try to do something like this given the chance.” He said as he turned towards me. He lowered his shades and said, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you young lady?”
“Well sorry Deacy didn’t give me the note till almost noon.” I said.
“Typical Deacy, of course he’d want to keep you longer than what was agreed.”
“Well I deserve to spend some quality time with my brother figure, besides he said the same thing about you.” Roger smirked playfully at me as he now stood up and came around me and wrapped an arm around me.
“Alright kiddo I’ve got lunch reservations for us in about 20 minutes, what say we both head on that way and then spend the rest of the afternoon getting lost in the mall. Maybe even pick up a yacht as a wedding present.”
“Where in the hell would we put a yacht?” I asked.
“Just by the decks, I know Jack would appreciate it.”
“I doubt that very much. He’s more of an ATV guy than anything.” We both soon walked through the park that would take us through a short cut to the restaurant that Roger said he had a table reservation for us. All the while the two of us were just talking about anything and everything.
Once we came to the restaurant I noticed that it was one of my favorite seafood places. We walked up to the restaurant and we were escorted to our table booth in the corner. I ordered up my usual homemade fried shrimp with a side of chips while Roger ordered up the “King crab special”.
“So have you and Jack picked out the groomsmen and bridesmaids yet?”
“Well don’t tell Deacy but Jack was sorta hoping he could be the best man.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” I popped the ‘p’. “As for my bridesmaids however I’m not having such luck. I mean I’ve asked Gen and Dani who are Jack’s cousins wives and they’ve agreed but I still don’t have enough to do the walk, I was maybe hoping that your wives could be a part of it.”
“I’ll run it by Dominique, I know she’d love to be in the wedding.”
“Thanks Rog, but I’ll tell her myself. I was planning on getting together with the wives of Queen either way to help me pick out a dress while I’m still here in London.” Pretty soon our food arrived and boy Roger definitely had his work cut out for him.
His crab was truly worthy of being called king. It practically fit the entire plate length and width wise, there was also his side order of grilled shrimp and chips.
“Geez Rog you really have your work cut out for you there.”
“What you doubt I can eat all this?” he mocked.
“I mean don’t you old people have to pace yourselves?” I teased. He then dipped his finger into some marinara sauce and bopped my nose playfully making me squeal out and stare at him in shock.
“You’re lucky we’ve got witnesses, otherwise you’d get your usual punishment.” Thank god we were indeed. I didn’t feel like being tickled to oblivion till I either passed out or surrendered. “And now you understand why I keep you away from Deacy. He turns you into a savage mini-him.”
“How do you know I haven’t always been like that?” I teased as I took a bite of one of my shrimp. He shook his head chuckling softly and we proceeded to eat our lunch.
All throughout lunch there were jokes, playful banters and even a small mini drum war that I first started by taking his crab mallets and just did a random beat on the table. Roger observed me before taking them right out of my hands and I cried out playfully.
“Oi!”
“Alright step aside kid and let a real drummer show you how it’s done.” He mocked then he began to perform his drum solo for “Keep yourself alive”. I bopped my head along to the beats before taking my spoon and fork and holding them upside down and I began to drum along with Roger copying his movements, soon making the drum solo into a drum duet.
But when Roger tapped onto the back of his crab, bits of crab juice squirted out making me shriek and laugh as I wiped away two juice drops away from my face while Roger just laughed.
After lunch, Roger paid for our lunch and the two of us left the restaurant arms wrapped around each other and we walked back through the park. Along the way though we came to a quiet little playground. There weren’t really any kids around so I asked Roger if we could just sit on the swings for a bit. He agreed and the two of us went over to it and sat down side by side on the swing set just slowly rocking back and forth or swaying side to side.
“So even though our afternoon’s barely begun, how are you doing so far?”
“I’m doing good. My belly’s full, I’m with my favorite Queen member, and quietly sitting in the park on a swing set feeling like a child again. Swings were always my favorite thing to do in a park playground. My dad always used to push me on the swings trying to make me go higher and higher and then I’d jump right off to see how far I would go. Scared my mum to death but it made my dad proud.”
“I can see you doing that.” He said. The two of us laughed softly and then I looked down at my feet which were gently kicking the mulch covering the playground.
“Deacy told me that Brian told you guys about the nightmare I had last night.” I suddenly said out loud. I heard him sigh and he said.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you—”
“No, I’ve already gotten my comfort from Brian and Deacy about it, and I need to hear it from you. Because—I thought from all that Freddie said the other day and hearing him say it again in my dreams was bad enough, but…..what truly hurt me was what nightmare you said.” I looked up at him sadly and he looked down at me and asked.
“What did the bastard version of me say to you?”
“You said…..that you never understood why you’d call me your daughter. That you’ve never been proud of me, and neither was my real dad. I felt—so betrayed and hurt at hearing you say those things I just…..” I sighed deeply and looked down at my lap.
“(Y/n), please look at me,” I turned back towards Roger. His blue eyes piercing my soul as he spoke, “I won’t repeat what Deacy or Brian had said to you, because I know you’ve probably heard it one to many times already so you don’t need to hear it a third time. But the day I ever say that I’m not proud of you or that I regret seeing you as my daughter, is the day that I am shot dead where I stand. I made a promise to your father’s grave that I would be the father you needed, and when I make a promise like that, it’s never broken. I may come across as a bastard at times but never to you. Because no matter what you are always gonna be my number one, and I would never turn or be against you.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” I choked out. He smiled softly down at me and that’s when I felt his fingers graze mine and I soon felt his pinkie wrap around mine as a promise to the very end.
Our hands soon faced each other’s until we gently gripped each other’s palms and I looked up at Roger and softly smiled and he smiled back.
“I’m sorry you had to see me…..”
“Let’s not worry about that now—”
“No Roger I have to say it. I may not have been awake to see you guys but I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to see me like that. Thinking that I was—dead or whatever. I shouldn’t have done that to you, it was selfish of me.”
“You were betrayed love. And angry, heartbroken, anyone would’ve punched out their posters like that or windows or even walls hell I know I’ve done that before. You deserved to release your betrayal in any way possible. But….I will admit I was petrified to see all that blood on the glass. I was so scared that I—that I had found to you too late.”
“But you didn’t. You, Brian and Deacy came back for me, and are willing to make up the day for me when you don’t even need to. Thank you Rog.” He smiled and said as he gently swung our entwined arms.
“Anything for my best girl.” He raised our hands up and placed a kiss at the back of my hand. We stayed there for a about a couple more minutes until Roger stood up and went behind me and began to gently push my swing, just like my dad used to do for me back when I was a little girl.
After spending some time in the park, just as Roger promised we were now going through the mall just going from store to store and Roger spoiled me with new clothes and accessories and new instruments for my upcoming concerts.
The afternoon passed and now Roger and I were currently in Trafalgar Square, we had grabbed a cup of coffee from a nearby coffee shop and was now just sitting by a curb drinking and chatting away about anything and everything to clear our minds. Just a few feet behind us, a guitar street performer was randomly singing covers of popular songs on his guitar hoping that people would leave him some cash to get by in the day, and if they wanted to, people came up and asked for requests and he would play them. Roger turned his attention to the guitar player and he said.
“You know, we haven’t picked our song yet.”
“What?”
“For the father-daughter dance at your wedding. It’s only the most important dance besides the bride and groom’s.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. And we need to pick one before the big day. Tell you what,” he fully turned to face me setting his coffee down before gesturing toward the guitar player, “Whatever he plays next. Whatever he plays, that’s our song for your big day.”
“Rog you do realize this could go really, really wrong you know?” We turned around and soon a group of girls all dressed up in semi-fancy clothes all gathered around the man giggling and chatting with him. Roger stood up and held out his hands.
“C’mon love, come on.” He then leaned forward and took my hands in his and helped me stand up onto the sidewalk and I said as we got into dancing position one.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this!”
“Shh wait, wait.” Already with his right holding my left while his left hand rested on my waist. We heard the guitar strum and soon the song turned out to be the tune for “Happy Birthday.” The girls and the man then began singing as Roger led me into a dance. “What?! No!”
“This is our song.”
“Oh god this is awful!”
“So on the day of your wedding, our father-daughter song will be Happy birthday my little lion cub.” Roger said as he twirled me around wrapping his arms around me from behind swaying us back and forth before turning me back around and allowing my arms to wrap around his neck.
“You’re such a geek dad.” I giggled. Suddenly I realized what it was that I had said. Roger separated from me and just looked down at me.
There’s a huge difference from telling someone that you see them as something else and actually calling them that. Even though for years he’s treated me like a daughter and I’ve seen him as my new father-figure, never have I once called him dad because I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.
“I—I’m sorry Rog I-I-I-I-I didn’t mean to I mean I….it just slipped and I….” he cupped my cheek before embracing me tightly. It wasn’t a constricting hug, but more like a protective yet comforting hug, like the ones he’s always given me for years.
“Is it horrible for me to say that I’ve only been dreaming for you to finally call me that?”
“Really?” I asked. He separated from me and said as he cupped my cheek once more.
“Yes. I didn’t tell anyone this detail, but the day after your 21st birthday after I had visited your father’s grave. I asked for a sign that I would have his approval for being the father-figure you needed in your life. I had no intention of replacing him in your eyes and I felt I needed to ask before I went any further with how I’ve seen you since the beginning. But that night at my house, a picture got knocked over and at first I thought someone had broken in and wanted to do harm, so I went over to where I had all my pictures and went to pick up the picture that fell, and it was the one of us at Hyde Park, your first big concert before your first world tour. The one I had Brian take of us, and I knew deep down that that was my sign from your dad. I know it could’ve been a coincidence or an accident but I believe the former to be true, that it was your dad answering me and wanting me to be the father you needed for all the rest of the years to come.”
I looked at him in shock as tears were forming in my eyes. I smiled up at him and embraced him back as I felt his arms wrap around me. I felt him kiss the side of my head as he held onto me closer.
“So does that mean I need to call you dad from now on?”
“Only when you want to, I won’t force you to say it all the time. But I will gladly enforce it when it’s just us two.” We both looked at each other smiling softly and he softly kissed my nose before pressing his forehead against mine as we swayed to an acoustic version of “My Girl” by the Temptations.
It was now almost sunset when Roger brought me back to the park and the two of us spent the rest of the afternoon walking through it. Going deeper and deeper into it until we reached the open acre area of the park.
“Unfortunately my dear this is where we part ways and I must give you a way to one last member who has something he knows will help put the events of yesterday far behind you. Just keep walking down this path and you’ll soon come across a fork, take the left path and you’ll meet up with him. I’ll take all this stuff back to your house.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure love, go on best not keep him waiting. He’s been completely bored out of his mind all day and was rather pissed that he had to get stuck with the night shift.”
“Well best head that way then, thanks again…..dad.” I said with a smile.
“Anytime, my best girl.” He brought me close to him and kissed my forehead before walking away and headed out of the park.
I then began walking down the path and soon enough I reached the fork that led either left or right. I took a deep breath and muttered to myself.
“Follow the yellow brick road Dorothy.” I then went to the left fork and walked on that would soon lead me to the area where Brian used to take me all the time back when I was stressed, and the same spot I once took Jack last year at around the time of the Summer fair.
I arrived at the rolling hills and when I went down one I began to hear the strums of an acoustic guitar and I saw just ahead of me the light of a lamp or something. I walked up another hill and there sitting along a blanket was Brian. He turned towards me and said.
“Ahh Ms. (l/n), good to see you’ve arrived on time. Guess I won’t need to deduct points for your tardiness.” I smiled softly knowing his game.
“Been a long time since we’ve met like this Dr. May, what shall we be learning today?” I asked as I walked up toward him and sat down beside him.
“It’s not what I will be teaching you, it’s what you will be reviewing for me.” He said as he set his guitar to the side and patted a spot on the blanket for me to sit down.
I walked towards him and sat down beside him. Since it was starting to get a bit cold on this spring night, Brian picked up his coat and placed it over my shoulders. His body heat that was still trapped inside the coat warmed me up and his excess cologne soothed my senses making me more relaxed.
As the sky grew darker, Brian turned off the lantern and lay down on his back and said.
“Now then Ms. (l/n), remind me of the process that helps powers the stars.” I racked my brain trying to remember all the lessons he had given me and the science classes from when I was in secondary school as well as University.
“Is it…..nuclear fission?”
“Close, it’s nuclear fusion.” Brian said.
“Gah! I’ve always gotten those two mixed up.” I groaned out.
“Alright well tell me this; The final stage for the most massive stars is either a massive explosion known as a supernova or gravitational collapse into a….”
“Black hole!” I exclaimed.
“You are correct.”
“Yes.” I muttered successfully.
“Now tell me this, what is the name of the invisible, radio wave-emitting object at the center of our galaxy that astronomers suspect is a supermassive black hole?”
“Ahh oh don’t tell me! I know it I know it I know it!” I began racking my brain again trying to remember what it was exactly. “Oh god it has something to do with a letter in the name!”
“You give up?” Brian teased.
“Give me a second uhh…..Augh okay I give up, what is it?”
“The answer is Sagittarius A.”
“Damnit I knew I was on the right track!”
“Seems you’ve been lacking in your studies Ms. (l/n).” he said as he sat up and sat shoulder to shoulder with me. I lowered my head softly laughing and I said.
“I’m sorry, some things have been coming up that took me away from my studying.”
“And what pray tell could be more important than your studies?” he said with that well-known head tilt of his and raised brows of his. I looked up at him my innocent doe eyes and shrugged my shoulders at him. He smirked at me before suddenly pulling me close to him and tickled around my waist making me shriek and squirm. He softly chuckled as he stopped and I was now leaning against his chest.
“I’ve missed nights like this with you Bri.”
“Me too darling.” He said as he stroked a strand of hair away from my face and behind my ear. “You always were my best student.”
“Bri I was your only student.” I chuckled out. He smiled down at me and kissed my forehead.
“So did the guys and I succeed on making this day any better for you?” I looked up to him and said.
“You boys always know what to do in order to make me feel better. I got to dance like I fool with Deacy, got to spend the afternoon with Roger and do some shopping both for myself and for the wedding, and now I’m star gazing with my favorite professor. I can’t thank you boys enough for what you all did to try and do for me after what happened yesterday.”
“Well we couldn’t very well leave our Rock Angel depressed just months before her big day. So we hoped we’d at least give her a make-up day to feel better and to let her know that we still love her. Just because one Queen member goes back on what he once claimed, doesn’t mean that it’s the same for the rest of us.”
“And I know that now after today. Thanks Brian.”
“Anytime love,” he wrapped his arms around me bringing me closer to him. His head resting on top of mine as his right hand gently stroked up and down my upper bicep. I placed my hands on top of his wrist and snuggled further into him, if that was even possible to do. “Oh I almost forgot, I have something for you.”
He released me from his embrace and handed me what appeared to be a wrapped up present. It was a rectangular shaped box, I took it in my hands but before I opened it, Brian stopped me by saying, “Before you open it though, do you remember where the constellation Leo is located?”
“Remind me again.” I asked as I set the present down in my lap. Brian took my right hand and guided it as he stated softly.
“Eastward lying right between my sign of Cancer the crab and west of Virgo the Maiden.” It was then he stopped and gently extended my index finger out and said, “Do you see him?”
“Yeah I can see him now.”
“Good. Now,” he then slowly guided my hand to about 45 degrees away from the head of Leo as he continued, “At about 45 degrees Northeast of the head of Leo, I want you to now open up your present.” I took back the present and began opening it and inside it was a manila folder. I looked to Brian in confusion and I said to him.
“What is this Bri?”
“Just open it up love, it’ll be clearer once you see it.” I unfolded the silver tabs and opened the folder up and reached in it. Soon I had pulled out a photograph of a bushel of stars. Already I saw the head of Leo and on that picture one of the stars was circled. I saw Brian’s index finger point to the circled star as he explained, “That star right there was best known as Star #02118D243. But now, it shall be forever known as ‘The Rock Angel’.”
I looked up at him in shock.
He turned toward me and said.
“I was planning on this being a wedding present, but I figured now was a better time to give it to you.” He gently tucked away some hair behind my ear once more and I said.
“Oh my god Bri I—I don’t even know what to say…..”
“There’s nothing you need to say. Just know that like the star that’s named after you, never stop shining bright. And the reason why I chose your star to be by Leo and not by your own zodiac is because of Roger,” he fully turned toward me placing his hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle yet firm squeeze as he stared into my eyes, “For a while I thought him calling you his lion cub was just some sort of little codename you both have for each other because of the bond you two share, but now I can see why he truly calls you that,” he cupped the right side of my face and continued as he brushed his fingers across my temple before placing it over my heart, “You have the heart of an angel. A well-known warrior of heaven. And the soul of a lioness”.
His hand went back to my shoulder and he said as he very slightly shook my shoulders as he leaned his head toward mine.
“The hardships you’ve faced have only made you that much stronger. And Fred…..he’s just another one we know you’ll overcome, our brave lioness Queen.”
His hand cupped my face as I could feel his thumb stroke my cheekbone gingerly, wiping away the tears that were probably running down my face. I silently looked down at the picture of my star and it was almost like it was telling me to listen to Brian.
I inhaled deeply before exhaling and I turned back towards Brian and said.
“Never did I think that my idol would use the same words that I have been told for the second half of my life. And I feared that you guys would do the same to me, I feared that I would spend the rest of my life with people faking around me. But like you said when each star dies, another is born in its place. And I’m done being letting people get me down. I’ve done what they once said I couldn’t do. I got the courage to get up on stage instead of turning away, I managed to get me a number 1 hit single before I reached my 20’s. And now I’ve managed to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. It’s time I finally let go of the past, learn from the hurt, and get back up on my feet and tread on.”
“That’s my clever girl.” Brian said with a proud smile. He cupped my face once more and kissed the tip of my nose and brought me close to him as the two of us stared up at the stars, especially the direction towards my star.
As the night dragged on I felt myself getting sleepy. So Brian packed up all the stuff back into the bag and put it over his shoulder and escorted me back to his car parked nearby the park’s side entrance into the acre field of the park. He set the stuff in the trunk and allowed me to sleep in the backseat.
I laid across it and got myself as comfortable as I could in the backseat of his car. The soft purring of the engine sent me into a lulled sense of peace as I felt my eyes drop like they were lead and I began to fall asleep.
Next thing I wake up back in my house in the bedroom with not only Brian but Deacy and Roger surrounding my bed.
“Go back to sleep love, okay?” Deacy said as he stroked away my hair and tucked it behind my ear. I nodded tiredly and soon I fell back asleep feeling three kisses along my temple, cheek and nose respectively.
#bohemian rhapsody#bohemian rhapsody movie#bohemian rhapsody imagines#bohemian rhapsody x reader#queen#queen fanfiction#queen imagine#queen imagines#roger taylor#brian may#john deacon#roger taylor x reader#brian may x reader#john deacon x reader#ben hardy!roger taylor#ben hardy!roger x reader#gwilym lee!brian may#gwilym lee!brian may x reader#joe mazzello!john deacon#joe mazzello!john deacon x reader#freddie mercury#freddie mercury x reader#rami malek!freddie mercury x reader#rami malek!freddie mercury
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pewnie masz pełno takich pytań! jakie książki o mitologii czy też w ogóle o naszej kulturze polecasz najbardziej?
a, no niby lista się robi ale faktycznie nie w mowie naszej ojczystej ale po angielsku - więc pozwolę sobie w odpowiedzi na to pytanie zawrzeć większość książek i tekstów, które polecam.
pierwsza książka i miłość moja największa, którą dręczyć będę wszystkich dopóki nas śmierć nie zabierze: Mitologia Słowian Aleksandra Gieysztora. źródło o tyle czasem niepopularne, że zdecydowanie akademickie, zdecydowanie stare, zdecydowanie kurzem dmuchające w oczy i rozprawiające godzinami oDumézilu i Brücknerze. ale warto, dobre bogi, warto.
później, jeśli o mitologię i wierzenia idzie, w kolejności w zasadzie dowolnej:
- Mity, podania i wierzenia dawnych Słowian - Jerzy Strzelczyk
- Polska demonologia ludowa - Leonard Pełka
- Bestiariusz słowiański - Paweł Zych i Witold Wargas (tutaj warto w ogóle sięgnąć także do ich świetnej a mniej znanej pozycji Duchy Polskich miast i zamków)
- Mitologia Słowiańska - Aleksander Brückner
- Religia Słowian - Andrzej Szyjewski
- jedno z najbardziej interesujących źródeł na temat folkloru i wierzeń ludowych, Komentarze do Polskiego Atlasu Etnograficznego: Wiedza i Wierzenia Ludowe
- Kultura ludowa Słowian - Kazimierz Moszyński
- Słowiańskie zaświaty. Wierzenia, wizje i mity - Paweł Szczepanik
z niesamowitych, istotnych ale i strasznych jak to pieszczotliwie można powiedzieć, staroci (tylko krytycznie!):
- Kronika Polski - Wincenty Kadłubek
- Kronika Thietmara (oj nie lubił naszych pradziadów ten pan, nie lubił)
- Katalog magii Rudolfa - Edward Karwot
- Roczniki Jana Długosza - ale tylko jako ciekawostka lub materiał do złoszczenia się, bo Jan to odlatywał strasznie w pewnych momentach i wiarygodność jego kronik jeśli chodzi o wierzenia słowiańskie to takie mocne “yyy… chyba może niekoniecznie.”
a jak o fikcję i mniej-fikcję chodzi - taką co budzi ciekawość i chęć puszczenia się galopem po stepie, ucieczki w lasy ciemne i góry wysokie - to polecam tak:
- Demony i Klechdy Ludowe - Sylwia Zawiślak
- Drzewo - Łukasz Wierzbicki
- Stara Słaboniowa i Spiekładuchy - Joanna Łańcucka
- Samotność Bogów - Dorota Terakowska
- Stara Baśń - Józef Ignacy Kraszewski - ale i inne z serii Dzieje Polski, jak Lubonie albo Bracia Zmartwychwstańcy
- Lelum-Polelum - Walery Przyborowski
dużo by się tego pewnie jeszcze znalazło, może i kiedyś przy jednym z tuzina self-reblogowań dodam więcej.
dziękuję za pytanie!
żmija
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What is your fave snacks to eat/drink? Fave TV shows/movies/artist?
I love kale chips that i make and toast with jam. I mostly just drink water but oj is a nice treat ;-) ive been obsessively watching gossip girl, i also love gilmore girls❤️. Favorite movies are muriels wedding & jeanne dielman. Favorite artists are joanna newsom, diane cluck, grouper, jessica pratt at the moment
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Quite fittingly, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story” begins with a sequence that feels timeless. The opening scenes of the first episode, “The Man Who Would Be Vogue,” are nearly devoid of dialogue, scored instead with a lush, operatic adagio that is reminiscent of an opulent, bygone age. The characters are introduced in ways that feel particularly timeless too: Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramírez), lord of his domain, wakes up in his sumptuous Miami Beach mansion — an Italian, baroque confection of luxury, staffed by dozens of uniformed servants and tanned, handsome men. Versace is the type of guy who takes his morning OJ on a silver tray, before reclining by the pool for a pre-lunch constitutional. His life is an incarnation of Italianate decadence, in a way that transcends his own time — the ’90s — to borrow, effortlessly, from luxury of yore.
Outside his haven, though, another story is unfolding. Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss), a skinny, bespectacled kid with a nervous, wiry energy, is pacing on the beach, opening up his backpack to look at the weapon nestled inside. He wades into the ocean and screams into the waves — his struggle pitched at a level of drama that only strings in a minor key can deliver. In between the elements of sand and sea he is reduced to his most essential state: a man on the edge of the world. And then the inevitable happens, in a scene that is shot by director Ryan Murphy like a fateful collision: Cunanan shoots Versace right outside the gates of the mansion.
The piece is the Adagio in G Minor, as arranged by show composer Mac Quayle. That the work is a well-known piece of musical chicanery seems especially fitting — a work passed off as an early-18th-century fragment that mimics baroque composition but was instead written in the middle of the 20th. “The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story” tells the story of homophobia in the late ’90s through a modern-day lens, but like so much of creator Murphy’s work, it is also interested in erasing the boundaries between the present and the past, often by heightening the drama of both.
From the moment of Versace’s murder, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” spools not forward but backward. In a brilliant device imperfectly rendered, every new episode of the show happens chronologically before the previous, in a “Memento”-style telling that is chasing some essential truth about its shapeshifting, mysterious killer. And for a show that has Gianni Versace’s name in the title, Ramírez’s (excellent) performance takes up much less real estate than the story of Andrew Cunanan — pathological liar, spree killer and terrifyingly effective con man, who killed himself before ever fully explaining his motives to the police. The FX series is based on Maureen Orth’s book “Vulgar Favors” — which emphasizes not just Cunanan’s path to the steps of Versace’s mansion but also how his manhunt was botched by the authorities, partly because of the simple fact that Cunanan was gay. But despite the law-and-order mechanics of the first season of “American Crime Story,” “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” opts for a story that emphasizes a titanic struggle of gay identity, ranging between the creative warmth of Versace, the corrosive shame of Cunanan’s earlier closeted victims and Cunanan’s own desperate striving. This isn’t a narrative about the mechanics of a trial, or even much about Versace himself, despite “American Crime Story’s” successful pedigree and this season’s subtitle. Rather, it takes the absence of details about Cunanan’s motivations and interprets a character from Orth’s framework.
The bulk of interpreting that character falls to writer Tom Rob Smith and actor Darren Criss, with mixed results. It’s hard to fault Criss for what is the most committed and impressive performance of his career, or Smith for assembling the facts about Cunanan into a narrative about the particular anxieties of gay identity in the ’90s. (Criss is practically born for this role: The actor, like Cunanan, is half Filipino.) It’s more that a murderer — particularly a murderer devoid of suspense, because we see him kill his most famous victim in the first scene — is a hard subject to extract eight hours of material from. That a creepy man will continue to be creepy — or that a scary man will continue to be scary — has a chilling effect for an audience investing in story. By the second time that Cunanan kills — which is, chronologically, the fourth time he kills — his presence in the home of Lee Miglin (Mike Farrell) has the heightened-strings suspense of a horror flick, complete with some of that genre’s fear-inducing editing. Criss may be doing the very best job he is capable of, but it’s hard to take the narrative of a budding murderer as anything more than suspense played for shock value when his sudden presence in a doorway, accompanied by sliding chords, has all the nuance of a jump scare.
More saliently, the heavy-handedness slows down the story — or belies the fact that compared to “The People v. O.J. Simpson,” “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” has much less story to tell. Where “The People v. O.J. Simpson” was a dense, fast-paced story unpacking several characters, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is fully Cunanan’s character drama, with meaningful but limited forays into the lives of his victims. And though this second installment is pursuing different goals, the difference between the two seasons is stark. Even their relationship to the truth is different: In the first, meticulous reporting still left the interpretation of the evidence to the audience, as the consumption of the murder trial became entertainment. In the second, the crime’s nature and perpetrator are known almost immediately, and though space is given to the investigation and the sensationalism around Versace’s death, it’s all secondary to the story’s interest in Cunanan’s development. Even the Versace family — including an impeccable Penélope Cruz as Donatella Versace and a strong performance from singer Ricky Martin as Versace’s boyfriend Antonio D’Amico — are sidelined to follow Cunanan’s journey. It’s difficult to swallow the bait-and-switch of the premise, if you’re not ready for it. Ramírez, Cruz and Martin are so compelling together that when the narrative veers steadily away from them — and their lush, high-fashion lives — it’s hard not to feel disappointed.
That being said, the inverted narrative presents a fascinating opportunity to examine Cunanan’s life as one that progresses into the closet, instead of emerging from it — and at its sharpest moments, the show is able to demonstrate how the spectrum of Criss, like other muses of creator Murphy, is coaxed to a career-defining performance in this role: Slippery, fabulating and mercurial, he’s a ’90s-era “Talented Mr. Ripley.” As we move backward through his life, we discover where his stories came from and how he built his worldview of resentment and entitlement. By the end of the season, our journey accelerates; we meet his broken mother, Mary Ann (Joanna Adler), and his unstable father, Modesto (Jon Jon Briones), which goes a long way toward explaining what Cunanan became. It’s worth noting that practically every performer in “American Crime Story” is stunning — whether that is Briones, Cruz, Judith Light (who plays Miglin’s widow, Marilyn) or Max Greenfield (who plays a Miami addict named Ronnie). Victims David Madson (Cody Fern) and Jeff Trail (Finn Wittrock) have some of the most tragic material to work with, and both in very different ways express a deeply rooted ambivalence toward their own homosexuality.
In the show’s interpretation, Cunanan and Versace are each other’s doppelgängers; the eighth (and penultimate) episode, “Creator/Destroyer,” presents the show’s implications in the title. In the duality between the two characters, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” finds an externalization of the struggle of the gay identity: fabulous creation versus destructive shame. But the exploration of themes is hampered a bit by how little time Cunanan and Versace ever spend in the same space; one of their few scenes together in “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” takes place during a heroin dream. And because of the need to relate information comprehensively, several scenes in this season are not, actually, in reverse chronological order — which is a little unmooring, if you’re not paying close attention, and unravels some of the significance of the structure.
On the whole, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is not quite one for the history books like the first season of “American Crime Story” — if only because, perplexingly, all of its Italian characters are played by Latinx actors. The second installment of this anthology series hopes to do for homophobia what the first season did for racism — a lofty goal that is left unrealized, in the eight episodes sent to critics. But with an array of fantastic performances and an eye to exploring the complexity of contemporary queerness, “American Crime Story” has produced another interesting history play to chew on — one with a lingering, intriguing aftertaste.
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NctrnmFM(nctrnm.com): #NowPlaying: "Never Say Ruin - Steel Sharpens STEEL (Set by DJ QUEZS)" by Never Say Ruin.
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Q&A with Janet Capron ’69, author of “Blue Money”
Blue Money, a new memoir by Janet Capron ’69, chronicles the author’s time as a prostitute working in New York City in the 70s. This “bracing personal narrative” has been praised as “thoroughly new and uniquely feminine” and “intense, electrifying” by fellow authors and critics alike. Excerpts from the book were featured in Playboy and LitHub.
In the following interview with Alumni Relations Kilpatrick fellow Olivia Judson ’17, Janet reminisces on Bennington and offers some advice to writers wanting to hit that big break.
OJ: What was your time at Bennington like? What did you study? In which house did you live?
JC: As long ago as that time was, some memories are still vivid. From the day I arrived, I felt set free. I was relieved because all of my peers, it seemed, were at least as smart as I was—I was in my element. I lived in Dewey, and I can still recall a lot of my housemates—I loved every strong character in that house: Nan, who I think was the head of the house; Joanna Pousette-Dart zooming away on the back of her gorgeous boyfriend’s motorcycle; Connie Kheel in deep contemplation in her single room; my darling and extremely tolerant roommate, Brenda, to name a few. My close buddy, Margaret Wise, introduced me to a dashing prince who later, briefly, became my fiancé and then lifelong great friend.
The first term of my freshman year, I took a class in English literature with the now legendary Claude Fredericks. The first month was devoted to the poet John Donne, the second to William Blake and the third to Ezra Pound, including the Cantos. This class transformed how I read poetry, and it transformed me—week upon week of revelations.
The second term of that year, I took English literature with Howard Nemerov, who had been or was even then the Poet Laureate. He wanted to read Finnegans Wake by James Joyce and decided to tackle that with our class. I circulated a petition, reminding him we were freshmen and most of us had never read Ulysses, let alone Finnegans Wake. There were so many great works of literature I was dying to read first. Everyone signed the petition and, without much or maybe any resistance, Nemerov changed the syllabus, which became highly varied and extremely interesting. Probably only at Bennington would a professor think to assign Finnegans Wake to a freshman class, and only at Bennington would a student petition be so willingly honored.
Barbara Hornstein Smith’s class in English Renaissance Literature was perhaps equally as meaningful as Claude Fredericks’ class, if in a less dramatic way. To this day, key bits of information inform me as a writer. The contrast between the Silver and Golden Poets of the 16th century, for instance, continues to be a useful prism.
I remember the stunningly beautiful and outspoken poet, Anne Waldman, a senior when I was a freshman and a wielder of tremendous power it seemed to me, nixing the possibility of a poet whose work she did not like from joining the faculty. No doubt hers was not the only decision or even the deciding one, but the idea that an undergraduate would even be allowed to participate in choosing faculty blew my mind.
Of course, a lot of memories were extracurricular: SDS meetings at Bennington and Williams full of firebrands hammering out policy; Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee members, proud young black men who belonged to an intelligentsia that was new to me, swooping onto campus like missionaries. After that, all of my black friends suddenly had afros and were glowing. This was the sixties, and the campus was alive with politics.
Before I leave the first question, I have to talk about Williams, where I spent a lot of time drinking beer with frat boys. Sadly, those outings cost me the last few years at a college I dearly loved. Finally, 15 years later, right after I stopped drinking, I went back college, this time to Columbia, where I got two degrees. But my inability to function at Bennington is one of those regrets I have had to learn to live with over the years.
However, I do have one caveat. I am glad Bennington is now co-ed. When I was there in the sixties, all of the academic student population was female, and almost all the professors were male. I felt as though I were being groomed to be a dilettante. This was not Bennington’s fault—it was the times, the dark ages just before the swell of the second wave of feminism we are still riding—nevertheless, that discrepancy between students and faculty galvanized me to become, for a time, a militant feminist.
Throughout my life, I have always been afraid of not being heard or not being taken seriously—partly because I grew up in an era when women were, with a few monumental exceptions, without a voice.
OJ: Describe what the process of publishing Blue Money was like. Were you approached by a publisher, or did you present them with an outline first? Was there anything unexpected about publishing this book?
JC: My luck finally changed the day my brilliant literary agent, Emma Parry, signed me. Emma is at Janklow & Nesbit, one of the top literary agencies in the world. She fell in love with Blue Money, met with me for two hours before submitting it, and the upshot was her pitch was supremely better than any previous agent’s had been.
Unnamed Press, the hip, enterprising young publishing house I like to compare to Barney Rosset’s Evergreen Press, bought Blue Money and has done a superb job of distributing and promoting it.
With very few exceptions, the only way to get published is to first acquire a literary agent. I had several of them, and all of them meant well, but Emma is the only one, I believe, who really got the book and therefore knew how to pitch it. She has had my back every step of the way since.
As far as unexpected goes, the most astounding parts of my journey, beyond my wildest dreams, are: First of all, Emma; second, my terrific publisher, Unnamed Press; and then seeing my book in the window of Three Lives Books, my favorite bookstore in the West Village. When Huff Po’s National Book Review made BLUE MONEY their #1 pick the week it came out—now that was a surprise!
OJ: Describe an experience where you learned that language had power. What inspired you to become a writer?
JC: My mother, Jill Stern, was a writer, and I’m sure that influenced me. We had a huge library, and I began reading on my own when I was still in nursery school. My mother had been reading to me before bedtime J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, the precursor to Peter Pan. But she often went out, leaving me with my governess. On those nights my mother was out, I was dying to find a way back into J. M Barrie’s fairyland. Somehow, as a direct result of that frustration, I learned to read. Most likely my governess helped. By the time I was four, the written word was already all powerful! By the time I was eight, I knew I was going to be a writer.
OJ: What is your advice for people who want to write or are just starting to write?
JC: Only write if you have to, if you are driven, because it takes years to find your voice. The road is narrow and hard. On the other hand, if you discover you have real talent, not just cleverness but undeniable talent, and you realize you have something, or maybe even a lot, to say, you better nurture and grow that talent—you better honor it, because a writer who isn’t writing is a bitter, frustrated human being—take it from me.
Blue Money is available on Amazon.
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2017 OSCARS WINNERS
Best Picture
Winner: Moonlight
Arrival
Fences
Hacksaw Ridge
Hell or High Water
Hidden Figures
La La Land
Lion
Manchester by the Sea
Best Actress
Winner: Emma Stone - La La Land
Isabelle Huppert - Elle
Ruth Negga - Loving
Natalie Portman - Jackie
Meryl Streep - Florence Foster Jenkins
Best Actor
Winner: Casey Affleck - Manchester by the Sea
Andrew Garfield - Hacksaw Ridge
Ryan Gosling - La La Land
Viggo Mortensen - Captain Fantastic
Denzel Washington - Fences
Best Supporting Actress
Winner: Viola Davis - Fences
Naomie Harris - Moonlight
Nicole Kidman - Lion
Octavia Spencer - Hidden Figures
Michelle Williams - Manchester by the Sea
Best Supporting Actor
Winner: Mahershala Ali - Moonlight
Jeff Bridges - Hell or High Water
Lucas Hedges - Manchester by the Sea
Dev Patel - Lion
Michael Shannon - Nocturnal Animals
Best Director
Winner: La La Land - Damien Chazelle
Arrival - Denis Villeneuve
Hacksaw Ridge - Mel Gibson
Manchester by the Sea - Kenneth Lonergan
Moonlight - Barry Jenkins
Best Original Screenplay
Winner: Manchester by the Sea - Kenneth Lonergan
20th Century Women - Mike Mills
Hell or High Water - Taylor Sheridan
La La Land - Damien Chazelle
The Lobster - Yorgos Lanthimos and Efthimis Filippou
Best Adapted Screenplay
Winner: Moonlight - Barry Jenkins and Alvin McCraney
Arrival - Eric Heisserer
Fences - August Wilson
Hidden Figures - Allison Schroeder and Theodore Melfi
Lion - Luke Davies
Best Original Score
Winner: La La Land - Justin Hurwitz
Jackie - Mica Levi
Lion - Dustin O'Halloran and Hauschka
Moonlight - Nicholas Britell
Passengers - Thomas Newton
Best Original Song
Winner: La La Land - City of Stars by Justin Hurwitz, Benj Pasek and Justin Paul
La La Land - Audition by Justin Hurwitz, Benj Pasek and Justin Paul
Moana - How Far I'll Go by Lin-Manuel Miranda
Trolls - Can't Stop the Feeling by Justin Timberlake, Max Martin and Karl Johan Schuster
Jim: The James Foley Story - The Empty Chair by J Ralph and Sting
Best Cinematography
Winner: La La Land - Linus Sandgren
Arrival - Bradford Young
Lion - Greig Fraser
Moonlight - James Laxton
Silence - Rodrigo Prieto
Best Foreign Language Film
Winner: The Salesman - Iran
A Man Called Ove - Sweden
Land of Mine - Denmark
Tanna - Australia
Toni Erdmann - Germany
Best Costume Design
Winner: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them - Colleen Atwood
Allied - Joanna Johnston
Florence Foster Jenkins - Consolata Boyle
Jackie - Madeline Fontaine
La La Land - Mary Zophres
Best Make-up and Hairstyling
Winner: Suicide Squad - Alessandro Bertolazzi, Giorgio Gregorini and Christopher Nelson
A Man Called Ove - Eva Von Bahr and Love Larson
Star Trek Beyond - Joel Harlow and Richard Alonzo
Best Documentary Feature
Winner: OJ: Made in America
13th
Fire At Sea
I Am Not Your Negro
Life, Animated
Best Sound Editing
Winner: Arrival - Sylvain Bellemare
Deepwater Horizon - Wylie Stateman and Renee Tondelli
Hacksaw Ridge - Robert Mackenzie and Andy Wright
La La Land - Ai-Ling Lee and Mildred Iatrou Morgan
Sully - Alan Robert Murray and Bub Asman
Best Sound Mixing
Winner: Hacksaw Ridge - Kevin O'Connell, Andy Wright, Robert Mackenzie and Peter Grace
13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi - Gary Summers, Jeffrey J Haboush and Mac Ruth
Arrival - Bernard Gariepy Strobl and Claude La Haye
La La Land - Andy Nelson, Ai-Ling Lee and Steve A Morrow
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story - David Parker, Christopher Scarabosio and Stuart Wilson
Best Animated Short
Winner: Piper - Alan Barillaro and Marc Sondheimer
Blind Vaysha - Theodore Ushev
Borrowed Time - Andrew Coats and Lou Hamou-Lhadj
Pear Cider and Cigarettes - Robert Valley and Cara Speller
Pearl - Patrick Osborne
Best Animated Feature
Winner: Zootopia
Kubo and the Two Strings
Moana
My Life as a Zucchini
The Red Turtle
Best Production Design
Winner: La La Land - David Wasco and Sandy Reynolds-Wasco
Arrival - Patrice Vermette and Paul Hotte
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them - Stuart Craig and Anna Pinnock
Hail, Caesar! - Jess Gonchor and Nancy Haigh
Passengers - Guy Hendrix Dyas and Gene Serdena
Best Visual Effects
Winner: The Jungle Book - Robert Legato, Adam Valdez, Andrew R Jones and Dan Lemmon
Deepwater Horizon - Craig Hammack, Jason Snell, Jason Billington and Burt Dalton
Doctor Strange - Stephane Ceretti, Richard Bluff, Vincent Cirelli and Paul Corbould
Kubo and the Two Strings - Steve Emerson, Oliver Jones, Brian McLean and Brad Schiff
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story - John Knoll, Mohen Leo, Hal Hickel and Neil Corbould
Best Film Editing
Winner: Hacksaw Ridge - John Gilbert
Arrival - Joe Walker
Hell or High Water - Jake Roberts
La La Land - Tom Cross
Moonlight - Nat Sanders and Joi McMillon
Best Documentary Short
Winner: The White Helmets - Orlando von Einsiedel and Joanna Natasegara
4.1 Miles - Daphne Matziaraki
Extremis - Dan Krauss
Joe's Violin - Kahane Cooperman and Raphaela Neihausen
Watani: My Homeland - Marcel Mettelsiefen and Stephen Ellis
Best Live Action Short
Winner: Sing - Kristof Deak and Anna Udvardy
Ennemis Interieurs - Selim Azzazi
La Femme et le TGV - Timo Von Gunten and Giacun Caduff
Silent Nights - Aske Bang and Kim Magnusson
Timecode - Juanjo Gimenez
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Top Ten Films of 2016
10) Christine (Antonio Campos, 2016, UK/USA)
No starring female role this year left me feeling more satisfied yet exhausted, sympathetic and contemptuous, annoyed and amused. Christine is Rebecca Hall’s greatest work and my favorite female performance of the year. There’s a reason she specifically won the ‘Courage in Acting’ award at this year’s Women Film Critics Circle. You’ll see why, and she’s fantastic.
9) Jackie (Pablo Larraín, 2016, Chile/France)
There’s something a bit “off” about a lot of Larraín’s latest and Jackie is all the more stronger and memorable for it. It’s that wiggle room that’s most intriguing, between historical accuracy and artistic liberty, public record and private pain, and performance of all kinds: for reporters, for a grieving nation, for us here to covet an icon’s account of Camelot. Imagined histories rarely feel this authentic.
8) Sunset Song (Terence Davies, 2015, UK/Luxembourg)
Possibly Davies’ most dismal work to date (but wait, his Emily Dickinson biopic is on its way). Yet it still fills me with his signature warmth and light, no matter how temporary Sunset Song demonstrates that state of happiness and fulfillment to really be. Even as the horrific shadow of war stretches across his canvas, he still holds his faith in our ability to endure.
7) Ovarian Psycos (Joanna Sokolowski & Kate Trumbull-LaValle, 2016, USA)
Community. Culture. Awareness. Mobilization. Solidarity. All meaningless buzzwords I loathe but that the documentary Ovarian Psycos made me believe in again, showing each of these talking points translated into concrete action. This stellar example put forth by an organized all-girl Latina bike “gang” watching over their Boyle Heights neighborhood—and more importantly each other—is truly motivating.
6) American Honey (Andrea Arnold, 2016, UK/USA)
I just can’t get enough of Arnold’s keen eye for the rough and the poor. Her cinematography is consistently astounding, and here all the more amplified by her foreign, idyllic take on America through the eyes of a lovestruck runaway teenager. A movie shamelessly flooding late-afternoon vistas from an open-top convertible with Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You” is a movie after my own adolescent heart.
5) Neon Bull (Gabriel Mascaro, 2015, Brazil/Uruguay)
Mesmerizing with its visual repetition and sounds, striking in the knee-jerk assumptions about a rugged Brazilian vaqueiro it shatters. Iremar’s hands and manner are coarse, but the garments he designs in his free time are delicate and refined. And my god, is he sexy. Neon Bull is really an extraordinary testament to the power of dreams, and how vital it is to nourish them amidst such a barren present.
4) Elle (Paul Verhoeven, 2016, France/Germany)
Utterly and wonderfully preposterous, and a formidable contender for comedy of the year. Yes, this is quite possibly Isabelle Huppert’s finest hour, and good luck trying to convince me Elle is anything more than Verhoeven simply toying with the dexterity and delicious poise of his muse. He takes everything we love about her, cranks it way up, and lets us have it. You should be grateful.
3) Toni Erdmann (Maren Ade, 2016, Germany)
In hindsight, I am so thankful Toni Erdmann took up the majority of my election night. I probably won’t laugh like that at a movie for some time, and it’s a reminder to try and not take this (or myself) too seriously. Maren Ade is coming for our invisible, repressive socioeconomic barriers with a sledgehammer, and our clumsy, imperfect loved ones are out there in the verdurous world just waiting to embrace us.
2) Moonlight (Barry Jenkins, 2016, USA)
My favorite male performances of the year. All of them. Especially Ashton Sanders as the adolescent Chiron—the wounded heart of this remarkable story—whose every nervous twitch was just too much to bear. Rare is the collective and collaborative talent that can make one line of softly spoken dialogue work as a resounding climax so perfectly. What a rare, beautiful film.
1) OJ: Made in America (Ezra Edelman, 2016, USA)
The most engrossing experience I had this year, and I couldn’t help devouring it all in two sittings on the edge of my seat. Edelman masterfully goes full macro and micro on so many of our nation’s awful, repeated contradictions, all through the truly bizarre exception that is OJ Simpson. The often logic-defying symbiosis of race and celebrity in America is infinitely fascinating. Footage of an LA officer’s horse spooked by the verdict’s unanimous and piercing hurrah is still haunting me.
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VinePair Happy Hour: What Original Cocktail Have You Crafted Recently?
So far in 2021, our social lives have looked a lot like they did in 2020, and that means many of us are channeling our pent-up creative energies into hobbies like home bartending. Though the VinePair team loves making our tried-and-true favorites such as Negronis and Margaritas, we’ve recently been taking breaks after our end of day Zoom meeting to craft our own unique cocktail recipes (some more successful than others).
Looking to mix up something a little different from your usual vodka-plus-anything-in-the-fridge? Read on for a list of the drinks that VinePair’s thirsty staff members are conjuring up at home this year — including a failed Old Fashioned riff, and a throwback to everyone’s favorite (forgotten) garnisher, Salt Bae.
“Lately, I’ve been riffing on the Hot Toddy by spiking my last cup of Sleepytime tea. Anything with skullcap works, but I’ve found Triple Leaf Relaxing Tea plays especially well with Kasama Rum. Otherwise, if I’m day drinking, it’s ginger beer with a splash of vodka and fresh cucumber for me.” —Emma Cranson, assistant editor
“I’ve been really embracing Sumo orange season this year — meaning that I’m not only eating them as a snack, but also using them as a cocktail ingredient. My go-to cocktail lately has been a combination of Sumo orange juice (you can use regular oranges, too), the juice of half a lemon and lime, and a shot of tequila, topped with sparkling water. It’s refreshing and super easy to make.” —Katie Brown, associate editor
“I’ve been really into lychees lately and created a cocktail with lychee juice, mango puree, sake and shochu. I had something similar at an Asian fusion restaurant a few months ago and wanted to recreate it. I’m excited for the warmer weather because I think it’s the perfect drink to sip by the pool or on a rooftop with friends.” —Danielle Grinberg, art director
“I recently mixed up a version of a rum maple Old Fashioned, only with lemon bitters and a lemon twist (because we didn’t have an orange). It took a few tries to get the proportions right and ended up being just… fine. Definitely wouldn’t ‘craft’ this one again.” —Joanna Sciarrino, executive editor
“I felt this was the perfect platform to finally share ‘The McKirdy’ with the world. Beloved by a literal handful of individuals, the drink sees a shot glass filled with equal parts Fernet Branca and Campari, then seasoned with a generous pinch of fancy flaked sea salt. Some reading this may be thinking this is just a ripoff of the Ferrari, a popular industry shot or ‘bartender’s handshake.’ You are quite mistaken. While the inclusion of salt is not entirely unique, it is the manner in which that seasoning is applied that renders a genuine McKirdy shot. Don your whitest T-shirt, slick back your hair, and put on your darkest pair of shades. Grab a large pinch of the bougiest salt you can find and proceed to sprinkle (from height) down an extended forearm and into the awaiting shot glasses — otherwise known as the Classic Salt Bae technique. Given that we’re all still drinking at home, alone, only your dog will judge you.” —Tim McKirdy, staff writer
“Prior to the pandemic, one of my favorite bars was The Rockwell Place, owned by Toby Cecchini. I live in Fort Greene, so am pretty close, and it was a place I frequented often as I think the cocktails are some of the best in New York City. One such cocktail was the bar’s Rare Citrus Margarita, a drink so delicious I found myself craving it. Sadly, unlike Cecchini’s other bar, The Long Island Bar, Rockwell Place did not open for outdoor-only seating at any time during the past year, so I took matters into my own hands and tried to recreate the drink. I am sure this is not the recipe Cecchini uses — his is definitely better — but I have found my version delicious enough to tide me over until The Rockwell Place reopens: 3 ounces blanco tequila, 1 ounce fresh cara cara orange juice, .25 ounce fresh lime juice, .25 ounce fresh lemon juice, .75 ounce agave nectar. Combine all ingredients in a shaker, add ice, and shake until the outside of the shaker starts to frost. Double strain, and serve up in a chilled coupe glass garnished with an orange peel.” —Adam Teeter, CEO and co-founder
“I’m a major frozen drink fan no matter the temperature outside, so I wanted to craft my own frozen Margs at home. I used ice (lots of it), frozen strawberries, tequila, Triple Sec, and lime juice. Blended it up in my Magic Bullet, and garnished with a lime in a Margarita glass.” —Ally Burton, brand partnerships intern
“Between sipping wine all day and typing up reviews, the only mixed drink I’ve been messing with is a latte. Maybe next time I’ll make it an Americano and dollop a swig of whiskey in there.” —Keith Beavers, tastings director
“I love lemonade — and for the record, boozy lemonade was cool in my house before the largest alcohol producers on the planet were making hard seltzer with it — so, anyway, I’ve been testing out shandy cocktail recipes. Here is the recipe I’ve landed on so far: Combine equal parts Aperol and OJ. Shake with ice and strain into an ice-filled tulip glass. Add Angostura bitters (I pop out that rubber thingy and pour a bit directly from the bottleneck, because who has time for dashes?), give it a stir, and top with a lemon shandy. I’ve been experimenting with samples of Goose Island’s 312 Lemonade Shandy, filling the glass about 3/4 of the way to leave room for foam. Pause to admire the fluffy pink cloud atop that summer sunset-colored drink in your glass, and sip away.” —Cat Wolinski, senior editor
“I created a riff on the cocktail ‘Seoulful Sour’ — inspired by Korean cuisines, this cocktail uses sesame oil! This is my re-creation, using some of my pantry staples and a great gin: Coat the cocktail glass rim with a chili lime salt/seasoning blend; then in a shaker, pour in gin, a dash of pineapple juice, a bit of honey, 3 drops of toasted sesame oil, and a squeeze of freeze lemon juice; shake and serve ice cold!” —Jenny Riddell, director of brand partnerships & events
“I’ve been throwing together a drink my friend turned me on to: Hendrick’s gin, a bit of elderflower tonic water, some freshly squeezed Meyer lemon juice, and a tiny splash of vanilla extract. She garnishes it with rose petals!” —Kelly Tesoriero, editorial intern
The article VinePair Happy Hour: What Original Cocktail Have You Crafted Recently? appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/home-craft-cocktail-recipes/
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