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whentherewerebicycles · 1 year

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2022: a year in review

all right all right let’s do some REFLECTIVE JOURNALING about this year!! this has been a year of major life upheavals for me, some of them chosen and some not, and to be honest i still feel like i’m in the middle-to-late stages of a major transition rather than comfortably settled & looking back on it all! but that’s okay, that’s okay. it’s still good to pause, take a breath, and reflect on this year.

i decided to do a separate post about what i want to prioritize or focus on changing in the coming year... so this long journal entry is just about what was hardest about this year, what was most joyful, and what some of my favorite memories were looking back on 2022.

what was hardest or most challenging about this year?

changing careers was by far the toughest thing i’ve had to weather in a while, and that includes the pandemic year(s). every part of that change felt so disruptive to my life, my relationships, and my routines. it really shook my understanding of myself, and if i’m being honest i still have a hard time seeing any silver lining to this experience apart from the financial flexibility my new job has afforded me. which isn’t nothing (more on that later), but also doesn’t totally feel like it makes up for the cost.

sigh ok let’s reflect. the drawn-out process of trying to get my old program extended was so disheartening, especially with all the pushing and prodding i had to do to get the deans to even care enough to send the requisite emails. then the very positive meeting we had with the foundation followed by the swift, no-explanation rejection of our proposal a couple months later was such a disappointment. like, i built that program from the ground up! i believed so much in the work i was doing with kids and i loved going to my job every single day. i had a clear sense of purpose & i felt professionally competent in my role. it wasn’t a perfect job (i still had too much unstructured time and too little real demands on my time/energy) but in terms of the blend of teaching, mentoring, and program design work, it was the closest to my ideal i’ve ever gotten. watching it all just get flushed down the drain because people didn’t care enough to send in the right paperwork at the right time, or because institutional priorities at the foundation had shifted and they wanted to clean house of old projects, or whatever, just sucked. blehhh. i’m no longer actively grieving it, and i DO feel like i was thoughtful and deliberate about giving myself good emotional closure in the final weeks of that last semester. but some part of me still feels pretty bad and sad about how it all went down, and even though i loved my time in that job the ending soured the experience a little. so yeah: that sucked.

and then of course... as you know if you’ve been reading along with my public diary this fall... the job change itself has been pretty depressing. my hope was that even if i had to work in a field i didn’t care about as much, i could at least gain professional experience in a new role that might push me in different ways and challenge me to learn new things. that hasn’t been the case. let me pause here and say that i understand how fortunate i am to have a flexible job that requires very little of me & compensates me really well for it. the change in my financial situation has changed my entire future. it’s now financially feasible for me to pay for IUI cycles and raise a kid on my own. plus i’ve been able to finance a cross-country move, get a bigger place in an area i love, and replace basically all of the slowly-falling-to-pieces stuff (furniture, clothes, appliances) i’ve had since i graduated college over a decade ago. that’s all good! and i’ve now gotten through the phase of the transition where i cried every night after work (and sometimes at work lol) because i felt such despair over what i’d done. so that’s… good. that’s fine.

but hoo boy. i really hate my job. and more disappointingly: i hate the person i am in this job. in my old job i got to think about other people all the time—what they liked and what made them anxious, how best to motivate and connect with them, how to tap into their strengths and help them develop their weaknesses, etc etc. i thought about myself a lot too, but largely in the context of my relationships to other people. i thought about how to be a better listener, or how to slow my knee-jerk jump to judgment, or how to manage my own insecurities in ways that would help me more effectively build connections with kids. i thought about my values and how i could enact those values in my daily interactions with others. i was people-focused! and now i’m self-focused. all the time. like, i still have interactions with friends and family, but at work i’m just by myself 95% of the time. by myself and, because I don’t have enough to do, thinking about myself-my priorities, my needs and desires, my little plans, etc etc. me, me, me. i do feel way more connected to family since the move and that’s providing me with some interpersonal joy and meaning. but i just. bleh. if i sit with it for too long, i have to confront the fact that i don’t like myself very much right now. or I guess like, i don’t like a person who would be content living like this. but i also feel kind of stuck, for reasons i don’t fully understand. i keep dragging my feet on putting together this teaching letter and i don’t know why. i feel like the longer i stay in this really me-focused space the harder it is for me to jolt myself out of it. sigh okay more on this later, when i move onto thinking about things i want to change or prioritize moving forward.

phew! that was a real downer! let me talk about a more positive change in 2022!

what was best and most joyful about this year?

i’ll do two: one big life change and one big perspective change.

first, the big life change. i left texas after ten years and moved to washington state. it was a big scary decision and it felt like it happened very fast. there were lots of logistical headaches involved (including some very costly lease-breaking and moving stresses), but on the whole it’s been such a positive change and i’m so happy i did it. i’ve said it here before but: this was the year i learned that you can just up and change your whole life. you can just do that. anytime you want. i think that is valuable knowledge that i really want to hold onto in the future. you’re not stuck where you are, and if you’re not happy or you need a change, chances are that you can figure out a way to make that happen for yourself. i love the area i live -- it’s further outside of seattle than i was expecting, but i love being so close to the water, i love being able to afford a big place, and i love living in a beautiful area where i’m within walking distance of at least four parks or trails and within easy driving distance of probably a dozen more. the natural beauty is stunning and even after four months i still gasp quietly to myself every single time i walk to the crosswalk across from my complex and see the mountains (they’re just right there). the rain doesn’t bother me nearly as much as i expected (it turns out that if you have the right clothes you’re just... fine? it’s fine?) and so far i’m handling the short, often overcast winter days pretty well.

but obviously, the best part of ALL is just being closer to family, especially my sister. i get to just casually hang out with my sister multiple times a month, something that we NEVER thought would happen (or at least not for many many years to come). i get to have my siblings and SIL over for dinner & just hang out with them all evening. plus i have somehow lucked into having a hockey-going fandom friend here (la) AND one of my best college friends + her girlfriend here... and i’ve somehow convinced my best friend and her partner to move here this summer, so then my life will just be, like... the best. i’m so happy about it. i mean i’d like to eventually make new friends too haha but for now it’s just really, really nice to have a small but very loving built-in social network to cushion the transition.

as i’ve been reflecting on it... i think i was a lot lonelier in austin those last couple years than i realized. and it was mostly my own fault! i just wasn’t as good or diligent about re-investing in my relationships after the pandemic, and i just kind of got used to other people periodically reaching out instead of me taking the steps to really strengthen the friendships that were important to me. i regret that!! and it makes me sad because i love my austin friend group, especially my grad school friends, and i was really, really happy there for such a long time. but idk, i just let things slide! i maybe derived a little bit too much of my social energy from my job and kinda counted on habit to maintain my out-of-work relationships. and re: the city itself, i think i just kinda let myself slip in a post-pandemic funk where i was so stuck in my routines i stopped trying new things or going new places. i really needed to change my whole life. and i did it.

i haven’t fixed everything yet. i still think some things in my social life & in the way i’ve been acting in my friendships is a little out of whack. i feel like i’m not doing a good job of reciprocating thoughtfully and lovingly in my relationships with others, or of communicating to people (through actions, not just words) how much i value my friendships with them. i think that’s partly, again, because this year has just been such an obsessively self-focused year for me.. due to the job search, the move, the lingering pandemic emotional funk, the bleh feelings about the new job and that disconnection-from-core-self i’ve been feeling, etc etc. but i think patterns of behavior that started out as situational (‘i’m thinking obsessively about me, me, me because i’m dealing with big life transitions’) can all too easily become habitual if i’m not thoughtful about interrupting them. so: that’s another thing i want to think about as i look forward to the new year.

okay and then the second best/most joyful thing about this year was the perspective shift i’ve experienced around parenting. i think even as recently as the late spring and summer, i was still feeling really really unsure about having a kid. i never doubted that i wanted to parent someday, but i felt all this uncertainty and reluctance around actually taking the necessary steps. i feel like i was really focused on what i’d be giving up (free time, flexibility, ease of travel, energy for creative pursuits, whatever) and it was hard to weigh those against an uncertain future. from that vantage point, all i could see with any clarity and certainty was what i’d be losing, and i could only very hazily imagine the kinds of things i might be gaining. so i felt like i was dragging my feet a lot, moving forward without feeling ready, still going back and forth on timelines, etc etc.

and then... i don’t know. something shifted. i can’t pinpoint how or where—maybe during liz’s wedding week? maybe as i was settling into the new place & delighting in being so close to my siblings? but suddenly i was just... ready. i’m ready. i’m one hundred percent ready. i mean i know you can’t ever be ready for the realities of parenting, but i do think that you can have that moment where things just click, and you’re like, yeah, i want to do this. i’m all in. i have never in my entire life experienced ‘baby fever’ and i’m certainly not experiencing it now lol. but at some point this fall, something crystallized for me. i want my life to include motherhood (whether i get there by giving birth to a child, by fostering, or by adopting). i want that to be part of my human experience. that’s been unexpectedly joyful for me—that click, and the sense of clarity and purpose that comes with it. it’s kind of funny to me that i spent so long dragging my feet... and now i’m literally counting down the days (13!) till my next cycle starts and calculating out how many IUI tries i can fit in this spring with my travel plans. but you know what?? i’m glad i waited for the click. i feel really good about it.

favorite memories from this year:

finishing a 50k story that i think is the highest quality thing i’ve ever written and feeling so proud of both the product & the incredible amount of work that went into the process. flying to kansas & driving to iowa to surprise my sister on her residency match day. the incredible symposium my kids put together, including the panel that was so moving and so lovingly done it made multiple audience members cry. that beautiful goodbye luncheon with my kids, where i got to listen to them talk about what they were proudest of and what they most admired most about each other. getting to experience the beautiful, beautiful dream week that was liz’s camp wedding... god that was just the most joyful, life-affirming, soul-expanding experience imaginable. fourth of july at K & N’s place with all my grad school friends, spending spent the afternoon drinking lukewarm beer and pressing bags of melting ice to our faces in a futile effort to cool off. some truly incredible summer sunsets. my favorite hockey guy re-signing with the team in the most dramatic way possible. walking the neighborhood loop i’d walked for six years with the dogs one last time, and then just standing there in the dark, looking out at the lights of the big fields with the moon over them, feeling excited but also feeling the bittersweet grief of losing a familiar place. starting a silly delightful little hockey podcast with two of my favorite fandom friends. visiting my sister in seattle to look at apartments and floating for hours with her on the lake. finding the secret woods with my brother. driving to my new house shortly after moving in and hearing the gps say ‘welcome home.’ getting to host lots of beloved friends and visitors in my spacious new place. wandering costco with my brother sometime in that first week, both of us cracking up and making up bits. being in the same time zone as my best friend and getting to see her every single month. playing twenty questions with liz on a long road trip except all of the things we were guessing were deep cut inside jokes from ten years of friendship. obsessing over greens and then at last finding the right one. my parents coming for thanksgiving and changing all the lights without me asking them, meaning i had to change them back lol, which i understand & accept as a gesture of love aha it’s very very them. going to the fertility clinic with my sister and spending our whole lunch afterwards looking through sperm donor profiles and laughing about it. hosting christmas eve dinner at my house for my siblings and SIL, then driving to my sister’s after her shift on christmas day and just getting to lie around on her couch eating indian takeout and talking about our dream gardens. picking a donor. feeling the click. walking out of my complex on a clear day, looking up, and holy shit: mountains.

#year in review #2022 #end of year journaling #my year in review #idk what my past tags have been lol

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ashandboneca · 4 years

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Racism, abuse, and why I don’t consider myself a part of the ‘community’

I’d like to talk about the event that pushed me away from the idea of a pagan community, and forced me inwards to further develop my own practice - and about the events of the last few years in regards to continued abuses in the pagan community. About 6 years ago, I started to look into the Norse pantheon. I had worked with Thor in the past, and about 6 or 7 prior to that I did an experiment where I worked with the Aesir for a month. At that point in my life, I didn't connect with them. I don't know why I didn't, I partially blame the terrible book I had for guidance, and the fact that the person who initially agreed to guide me flaked out. However, this time around I endeavoured to learn as much as I could from a reputable source, because the last time I had no idea what I was doing. I approached my friend, who is a practicing forn sidr heathen, and they agreed to teach me what they knew. We spent a number of sessions discussing cosmology and theology. I felt confident going forward, armed with book recommendations and a passion to learn further. I wrote a bit about my experiences openly on my previous blog with Odinn. Interactions with him were not sought after, but something that merely happened. When gods or spirits or ancestors come calling, you answer in some way out of respect. I wrote more about my experiences, and different techniques I utilized to connect with him. None of them were specifically Heathen - but I don't soley identify as Heathen, so I figured if that was an issue, Odinn wouldn't have shown up in the first place.

Some time later, my friend had messaged me to let me know they had gotten some hate mail about me via Witchvox (which no longer exists, but used to be a connection board for finding pagans and witches in your area, as well as open groups, etc). I was initially gobsmacked. Why the hell is someone emailing her in regards to something I did? Wouldn't have been more productive to email or message me to resolve whatever issue? I found it who it was. This person was, at that time, a member of a well recognized organization locally who put on events and rituals - an organization whose first mandate is "We hold that each one of us has their own path to follow to truth and spirit." To be honest, I had never really interacted with this person beyond being paid to do so in my former job at a pagan bookshop. We attended a few of the same events, but never really interacted. There was no real beef. I wasn't particularly fond of said person, but I had no real issues with them - so this came sort of out of left field. I sat on it for a bit. I did not reply to the sender. Instead, I decided to post the initial email on my previous blog. Inevitably, someone is going to disagree with how you practice or what you do, even if you're not doing anything wrong. The point I think is important to underline is that you do not need to stand for other people trying to tear you down, assert some kind of moral superiority over you, or telling you how and when you should be practicing, unless your practice is appropriative - in which case you should be taking a long, hard look at yourself. As heathenry is an open tradition, I had no concerns. I also think transparency is very important, and when people behave badly they often do so to gain something from it. Whether it is attention, drama, or they feel they are in a safe space to do so due to anonymity. So, by posting the email (albeit in edited format - I removed all identifying information about said person, because I wanted to focus on the behaviour, not the person), I felt I was addressing something that more people should have been addressing. Afterwards, my friend received a few more emails about how I was 'pissing on their ancestors' and etc. My friend told them, in no uncertain terms, that the emails were unwelcome, the issue was none of their business, and to fuck off. I also got a few emails, a few messages on Witchvox, a few comments, and a lovely comment from a sockpuppet account here on tumblr, as well as finding out my writing was posted to be mocked because I wasn't 'heathen' enough - with screenshots! I did not respond to anything, just kept record of everything in case it was needed. I disagree with the idea of bringing in some third party who is uninvolved to do one's dirty work. If someone has an issue with how someone else is practicing, they need to question whether it's something to address. Bringing in someone uninvolved is both cowardly and childish. They did not ask to be involved, and I'm not sure what involving another person serves to carry a point. Fight your own battles, or say nothing.

There were a few other instances. A series of screencaps of this person’s continued racist, sexist, and abusive behaviour was provided to a few of us. A known leader was accused of racism and verbal abuse by other members of the community with credible evidence. This leader had a pattern of setting up multiple Facebook accounts and when one was found they would set up a new one with a new name. They talked at length about their feelings on immigration, POC in the Heathen community, and interfaith. They advocated violence and celebrated terrorist acts. Some really troubling, disgusting stuff.

We did what we thought was right - we emailed the organization to tell them and offer proof via said screencaps. In the response, we were told, and I am not bullshitting, that this person was a valued member of the community, that they are 'proud' of their heritage (uh, so am I, but I don't run my mouth off about diversity being white genocide), and that we could essentially go pound sand. I quote "own personal outlook on (their) culture and (their) path. (They are) entitled to (their) own practice as much as anyone of us are, and (they) cares deeply for (their) culture. (They) makes a significant contribution to the Pagan community with (their) efforts through (group). (They are) a hard worker and has accomplished a great many things in (their) time on the board, a commitment that is not to be taken lightly. (They) fulfill (their) duties as a board member admirably."

Do I agree with their hot take on this? No. I think if someone comes to you with an accusation of that kind of wrongdoing, you have a duty to do some manner of preliminary investigation, because if you are in a position where you are teaching people and have authority, those students need to feel safe. You need to determine if the accusations have any truth, and if they are found to be false, feel free to stand behind and assert your belief in the accused. I truly believe the harasser/abuser showed their group the email, and they spun it in some way to discredit us.

Complicity via ignorance is still complicity - it's enough to tarnish an organization's good name. In the working world, business owners have been hung out to dry because of their racist, homophobic, or sexist employee's actions. The whole Kenny Klein situation happened for years because people excused his behaviour and allowed other people to be abused. We are all finger-wagging and clucking when people try to bring up this behaviour - don't be starting drama, oh that's just how (name) is, oh that's just rumours. Look, everyone - assholes, creeps, criminals, and predators exist in every faith, every organization. We are so quick to sweep it under the rug, so rushed to prevent judgement, that we always forget that one important fact. While I think it's important not to jump on every bad thing you hear about people, I do think it's important to have an open and frank discussion about proper behaviour while in a position of power. Especially if proof of misdeeds are being offered.

This group, and their lack of action, stood complicit in this person's bad behaviour. If they made the choice to stand behind a racist, bigoted person who spends their time trying to harass people online (I am not the only one, I have been told - there have been multiple people, including some of their own family members), that is their choice. They have made that choice, and they have chosen to accept any repercussions going along with it. They chose to stand behind an abuser.

Sarah Lawless, back in 2018, named a number of known abusers in the wider PNW community. The flack she received for being brave to stand up and call that shit out was disgusting.

Abusers are coddled and protected in pagan communities. They are viewed as elders, as productive members of the community, as local heroes. While I have been fortunate to encounter very little sexual harassment in the pagan community, I have suffered other abuses and harassment that has shown me that, just like the priests and cardinals in the Vatican, pagans protect and believe only those in their clique. And there are cliques in the community, have no doubt about that.

Sarah pointed out that the ideal community is a fantasy - I agree. Stories I have heard from others about their own experiences in the 'safe and welcoming' pagan community would break your heart. One person I spoke with said 'it's scary to even fathom trying to approach anyone, because it's hard to know who to trust, who might lure you in and take advantange of you'. That is a sad statement, and one I know too well. I have a tendency to keep abuse like this close to the chest because I have been burned by people in the past. There is no spiritual support for people who get abused - no chaplains, no pastoral care, no therapists.

These were people who were putting everything on the line to be heard, and the vitriol and hatred and lies I had seen made my blood boil. This is precisely why people do not come forward. They could put everything on the line - in Sarah's case, the safety of her partner at the time and children - and people will still find a way to claim the survivors are lying. Why? What do the survivors get out of lying about their abuse? What person would come forward, knowing they will be attacked, confronted, slandered, and encounter more abuse, if they weren't telling the truth? Why would any survivor put themselves through that unless there is truth? The most stalwart defenders claim 'they couldn't have done it, I've never seen them do anything to me!' Humans are complicated and complex beings, with many facets and many faces. The face you see may not be the same face others see. The John Doe you know and the John Doe I know may be the same person, but very different relationships.

It comes down to this: You can't 'believe survivors' if you're supporting abusers.

You can't support survivors if you're sheltering abusers.

You can't help survivors if you're siding with abusers.

You can't call it a safe community if you don't protect it's members.

Standing up for myself and others lost me “friends” who ditched me about the ‘drama’, and my community. Something needs to change. It is inevitable that change will befall the community, and those denizens had better wise up quickly. There are a lot of young, vulnerable people looking for guidance and safety, and the community better fucking step up and prove they are willing to protect their members, or they have become no better than the Christian groups who continue to enable their abuse. We need willing leaders to push forward to make the community better. We need dedicated, smart, and savvy people to navigate a new and better future for paganism, because it's got a death rattle going on and it needs the kiss of a new life.

Burn the whole of the modern pagan community down. Burn down the groups that perpetuate abuse, that enable abusers, and grow something better and safe from the ashes. Dismantle the sexist, enabling, racist, oversexed community with it's abusive elders, cleanse it with fire, and create a place where people can come together without having to fear predators.

The only I have learned from watching my and other’s experiences is that we shouldn't call out wrongdoing in the community, because I have gotten abuse hurled at me for it and I have seen others who have done the same get more and worse abuse. People get mad, they accuse those who come forward of 'causing drama' or 'rocking the boat'.

That is a terrible lesson. A witch is sovereign unto themselves.

Bitches, this boat is rocking. Grab on, or drown.

This is my own story. I have posted links for further review down below.

Further reading:

Dealing With Toxic People in the Pagan Community

Sarah Lawless’ post about her suffered abuse, via the Wayback Machine

Abuse, the Pagan Community, and Our Commitments

Abuse Within Paganism - a taboo topic?

A Crisis of Faith

Authenticity and Racism in Contempory Paganism

This is not a new issue - via livejournal, 2006

Cultural Appropriation in Neopaganism

#Ash and Bone #ashandbone.ca #witchcraft #traditional witchcraft #heathenry #The Crooked Path #tw abuse #tw racism #pagan #paganism #yes i wrote a whole damn paper

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everydayalesson-blog · 3 years

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Does journaling really matter?

I like the concept of journaling. The problem is, it doesn’t seem like there’s anyone who advocates for it who references any true objective findings. Keeping a journal seems to be primarily appealing because of the perceived outlet for internalized frustrations. I can’t speak for others, obviously, but this certainly holds true for me, personally.

Objective findings get messier when it comes to mental health in the first place. I also wonder about others finding my journal and reading it. I don’t obsess over it, but I worry enough that I don’t think I could be entirely straightforward. I may still, to some degree, filter my feelings. If I still have to filter what I say, even to myself, it seems it’s all the less beneficial.

I find myself feeling guilty quite often. It seems to come and go in spurts. I have difficulty ever really getting to the bottom of why I feel this way. I get angry with myself when I feel I haven’t accomplished enough in a given day. If I spend the day doing mostly nonproductive activities, like watching tv, playing videogames, or scrolling social media. I want to reach my potential, mentally and physically. I want to feel strong and sharp on a regular basis.

My new job has been a large source of stress. I should be happy to have obtained what is arguably the pinnacle of my chosen profession, but I can’t help but feel disappointed. It’s far from what I hoped it would be. I’ve met many people there who seem to have starkly different perspectives than I do. At face value, this could be argued to be a positive. I try to take this into account. I don’t believe I’m arrogant. I don’t think I know best about all things or even most things. I am open minded to new information and believe a fresh paradigm is beneficial. That being said, I despise some of the people I work with. I’m frustrated with the perspective that I am new, inexperienced, and less valuable. I’m frustrated with my work frustrations being so dominant over the rest of my time, even outside of work. It’s very difficult to find joy in things lately. I find myself wanting to drink more often than I’d like to. Not so much just wanting to drink, but just craving the opportunity for silence. I just want to turn off my mind. The constant barrage of unwanted negative thoughts is simply fucking exhausting. I wish I had the understanding or training to be able to shift my thoughts to something more positive. I’m otherwise quite objective in my observations, I think. Except, when it comes to myself and my own performance. I’m aware that I’m too critical. I’m far more understanding when it comes to others failing or making mistakes. This does not escape me. I try to bring this fact to the forefront of my attention when I can feel my negativity becoming irrational and unreasonable. There are many qualities about myself i wish I could change. It makes me furious to even conceptualize this statement. These are my thoughts and my mind, right? If anyone can change them, it’s me. I produce them, but I don’t decide what just naturally comes to mind. I’ve tried to force myself to think positive things. Exercises like that feel something like smiling into a mirror to convince one they are happy. It feels disingenuous and unproductive. If anything, it contributes to more negativity because I feel foolish because it seems to require so much effort to even summon up some positive feelings about myself. I believe I’m intelligent. I believe I’m not totally without value, but I also feel I have so many areas that need improvement. One day, I can convince myself I could run an entire corporation with more efficiency and passion than anyone else. Other days it’s the opposite. Most days, if I’m honest, I feel like a complete imposter. I feel like I lucked into my job and my position. That I’m lazy, stupid, selfish, undisciplined, egotistical, and obsessive.

One of my least favorite traits about myself is my inability to manage my time well. Specifically, when it comes to conversing with others. I don’t like to be long winded. It’s one my greatest insecurities. Having the sudden realization that the person I’m talking to has actually been doing their best to politely slip away from the conversation is a horrendous feeling. I think of it as holding someone hostage with social etiquette. We’ve all experienced it and everyone that has hates it. To think that I have done that and even still continue to do it creates a lot of internal conflict within me. It seems like a narcissitic quality to be even capable of holding a conversation and being unable to pick up on another person wanting to leave or stop. I even had an intervention type call with two members of leadership from work who amongst a laundry list of other things that I seemed to have fucked up, also threw in that there were some complaints about my long winded nature keeping others at shift change from being able to complete their morning duties in a timely manner.

As angry as that made me, I also understood how it’s awkward to bring up to someone in person that you’d like them to stop talking without sounding rude. It’s easy to see how one would believe a conversation like that would effect future interactions with that employee. Honestly, to hear it directly from the other person may have effected me more directly that hearing it from leadership. It feels dramatic to say my worst fears came true to hear that. It’s not how I feel, not exactly, anyways. It is still something I already have a lot of anxiety about though. Generally, especially when I’m around new people, I’m very self-conscious about speaking in excess. So, to hear from anyone that it was specifically an issue at my place of employment is a truly horrible feeling. It’s difficult to describe. I KNOW I need to improve in this area, but I simply don’t know how to without taking it to the opposite extreme, which also makes others uncomfortable.

It makes some sense that if I just get more out of what I’m thinking about on paper, maybe I won’t just unload on people when I see an opportunity to talk. That’s the primary thing that draws me to journaling or keeping a diary. That and potentially gaining some new perspective without having to assault someone with all my self generated fucking issues.

Even now, I feel angry that I’m even spending time typing this long winded text post. Why? What good will it do? What if I do actually have someone who still monitors this dusty old account and this even ends up causing some kind of negative backlash because I sound like a maniac? If I actually feel some kind of release from typing all this fucking nonsense, will it go away if I delete this tyrade once I’m through? Does it have to be posted so I know others may read it? Probably, it’s different with everyone. Probably, if I want something good to come from it I should force myself to express some gratitude.

1. I’m thankful for my job. It’s given me opportunities and I still see potential for things to get a lot better with time.

2. I’m thankful for my relationship. I have a healthy, happy relationship with a girl I truly love and it doesn’t frighten me to envision a relationship with her going further. I wasn’t sure I was capable of doing that anymore and it gives me a lot of hope for our future together.

3. I’m thankful for my home. I live in a nice place with a lot of nice things. I have the space I need and the location is good. We live in a safe place near a lot of things of interest. It’s the most anywhere has felt like a real home to me.

4. I’m thankful for my health. I feel and look to be in good physical condition and don’t have any significant injuries that effect my day to day life despite my career and life choices up to this point.

5. I’m thankful for my financial situation. While I was more fortunate than many financially growing up, the status of my bank account is largely a reflection on myself and sound decision making. I’ve continue to invest money and leave money alone. I do things I want and buy what I’d like, but not in gross excess. I believe I have a good perspective when it comes to money.

6. I’m thankful for my mind and my passions. Even though I can get frustrated about how my thoughts can feel difficult to manage, I still recognize I have a sharp mind with a lot of potential. I’m glad that I have found a career field that excites me. I’d much rather have my passion for my job than to be uninspired and empty with no particular interests in work.

6 good things wasn’t terribly challenging, but I feel like mentally when I’ve tried this little exercise, I’ve used similar if not the same things. Does it really count if you point out the same stuff again and again? The real question is, do I feel any better now than I did before I started all this typing? Do I feel different at all? Should I feel anything right away?

I don’t feel any different for now. I just feel like going to the liquor store. I guess we’ll see.

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stereostevie · 3 years

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The Rap Grammy Nominations Are Weird As Hell | Nov 25, 2020 11:12 AM BY TOM BREIHAN

The very first time that the Grammy Awards recognized rap music, it was an utter fiasco — a clear case of an aging pop-music establishment failing to understand this vital new youth music that had sprung up and rewritten the rules. For the 1989 awards show, the Grammys added one rap category, Best Rap Performance. DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince won it for “Parents Just Don’t Understand,” beating out LL Cool J and Salt-N-Pepa and Kool Moe Dee and JJ Fad. The show didn’t deign to recognize Public Enemy, N.W.A, EPMD, Slick Rick, Big Daddy Kane, Eric B. & Rakim, or Ice-T, all of whom had released classic albums within the voting window. The award wasn’t televised, and most of the nominees, Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince included, skipped the show, attending a “Boycott The Grammys” party instead.

Since that night, the history of rap at the Grammys has been a series of baffling, embarrassing decisions. It’s Steely Dan winning Album Of The Year over The Marshall Mathers LP. It’s Gretchen Wilson winning Best New Artist over Kanye West. “It’s weird and it sucks that I robbed you.” It’s also a history of rappers getting angry over the Grammys: “I never let a statue tell me how nice I am,” “You think I give a damn about a Grammy?” In 2019, Drake showed up to accept Best Rap Song. In his acceptance speech, he talked about how the Grammy voters weren’t necessarily the right people to define rap success. The broadcast cut him off mid-speech. Earlier this year, Kanye West, a man who once cared more about Grammy Awards than anyone else not named Neil Portnow, tweeted a video of himself pissing on one of his Grammys. (The Grammys still nominated West this year, for Best Contemporary Christian Music Album.)

Yesterday, the Grammys nominated Freddie Gibbs and the Alchemist’s Alfredo in the Best Rap Album category. That’s great! Freddie Gibbs is a great underground rap success story, a guy who bet on himself and kept doing great work in his own lane even after multiple major-label situations fell apart. Gibbs has never made a hit song in his life, and he’s gotten himself into a position where he doesn’t need to make hit songs — where he can just follow his instincts and keep his own style intact. Alfredo isn’t my favorite rap record of the year. (Even in the field of Alchemist-produced 2020 rap albums, I’d give the slight edge to Boldy James’ The Price Of Tea In China.) But the nomination for Alfredo is still a very cool surprise, the kind of thing that I would’ve never expected to see from the Grammy nominating committee.

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And yet Gibbs’ nomination doesn’t exactly announce a new golden age of Grammy rap consideration, a time when Recording Academy voters are finally figuring out how to approach the genre. Instead, his nomination points toward something else: An institutional recognition of middlebrow, middle-aged, respectable rap music.

All of this year’s Best Rap Album nominees are Black men between the ages of 35 and 47. The oldest nominee is Nas, who is now on his fifth Best Rap Album nomination and who has never won the award. (The Best Rap Album Grammy didn’t exist in 1994, when Nas released Illmatic, but there’s no way in hell that Nas would’ve won it anyway. The Academy would’ve given the award to Coolio’s It Takes A Thief or something.) The youngest nominee is D Smoke, a former high school Spanish teacher who is also the brother of the TDE R&B singer SiR. D Smoke made his way into Grammy contention after winning the first season of Rhythm + Flow, the Netflix rap-competition show. (Two of the three judges from Rhythm + Flow, Cardi B and Chance The Rapper, have won Best Rap Album themselves. T.I., the other judge, has been nominated three times and never won.)

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D Smoke isn’t exactly a revered or popular rapper, and I have’t seen anyone calling his perfectly-OK album Black Habits a masterpiece, though the man has certainly done better than anyone could’ve expected from a rap reality-show winner. But D Smoke raps exactly like a diet version of Kendrick Lamar, so his nomination works as a clear indication that the Grammy voters really, really wish they had a Kendrick album to nominate. D Smoke is also up for Best New Artist, alongside fellow rappers Chika, Megan Thee Stallion, and (I guess) Doja Cat. Presumably, Megan’s Good News would also be nominated if it had come out early enough to be eligible. Meanwhile, Chika hasn’t released an album, and Doja Cat is nominated in the pop categories, not the rap ones.

Instead, then, we’re looking at five guys hovering around the age of 40, all of whom are respected technicians with boom-bap inclinations. Jay Electronica, who’s nominated for A Written Testimony and who should probably be considered the front-runner, is technically a New Orleans native, but nobody thinks of him as a Southern rapper. (Jay-Z is all over A Written Testimony, to the point where anointing Jay Electronica feels a bit like throwing awards love to Jay-Z in a year with no Jay-Z album.) All the albums up for Best Rap Album are, at the very least, solid. A couple of them, Alfredo and A Written Testimony, are very good. But this is still a remarkably stodgy list — one that shows that the whole middle-aged respectability fetish that’s long plagued the Grammys is now embedded in its rap voting wing.

Freddie Gibbs and Nas and Jay Electronica and D Smoke and Royce Da 5’9″ are all gifted rappers who have done great work. Most of them could justifiably be considered legends. But none of them really show the world where rap music is, let alone where it’s going. By recognizing those albums, the Grammys have pointedly elected not to recognize something like Lil Baby’s My Turn, which is probably 2020’s most popular album in any genre and which is also a fine example of the 808-heavy depressive melodic-goo rap music that currently dominates the genre’s mainstream.

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Other hugely popular, artistically important albums are also absent: Lil Uzi Vert’s Eternal Atake, Roddy Rich’s Please Excuse Me For Being Antisocial, Polo G’s The Goat, Gunna’s Wunna, Rod Wave’s Pray 4 Love. Instead, the rap albums getting nominated are the 2020 equivalents of the Steely Dan album that famously beat Eminem. That’s not an indictment of the nominated albums. It’s an indictment of the stuff the Recording Academy values. It’s also a cautionary look of how things might look if the Recording Academy ever gets its way, if rap comes to rely on accepted ossified skill-sets instead of its current state of constant, furious stylistic evolution.

As someone who’s around the same age as this year’s Best Rap Album nominees, I’m not all that amped to see emotionally troubled, pill-gobbling 20-year-olds dominating rap music. But those kids are crucially moving the genre past whatever old men like me might want it to be. Fortunately, there’s at least one Grammy category that has done a pretty good job capturing where things are right now, and that’s Best Rap Song. The list of nominations there — Lil Baby’s “The Bigger Picture,” Roddy Ricch’s “The Box,” Drake’s “Laugh Now, Cry Later,” DaBaby’s “Rockstar,” and Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage” — isn’t necessarily perfect, but it’s a fairly accurate representation of the kind of rap that moves people right now. I don’t know why the division between the Best Rap Album and Best Rap Song nominees is so stark. Maybe it’s a signal that the album is increasingly irrelevant. Maybe it reflects two different voting bodies. Either way, it’s striking.

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Look, the Grammys are weird. They are always going to be weird. Fiona Apple’s Fetch The Bolt Cutters should’ve been the biggest lay-up in the world, but it isn’t up for Album Of The Year. Instead, the Academy’s voters went for Coldplay and Jacob Collier and a deluxe edition of a Black Pumas album that didn’t even come out in the eligibility period. “Rockstar” and “Savage” are both up for Record Of The Year, but Post Malone’s Hollywood’s Bleeding is the only album that’s even rap-adjacent that’s nominated for Album Of The Year this year. I thought for sure that Lil Baby’s My Turn would be the token rap album that would inevitably lose to Taylor Swift. Instead, we didn’t even get one of those, and My Turn got snubbed even in its own category. Nothing makes sense.

But this year’s Best Rap Albums nominations still show a weird alignment between Grammy Voters and a certain streak of real-hip-hop rap conservatism. Watch out for that. Nothing good, except maybe a Freddie Gibbs Grammy win, will come out of that.

FURIOUS FIVE

1. Roc Marciano – “Downtown 81” It’s not on streaming services yet, but Roc Marciano’s new album Mt. Marci is out in the world now, and it is marvelous. (I can’t tell you whether the digital download is worth the $40 that Marci is charging on his website. Make your own financial decisions.) Right now, the only song out for general consumption is one of the few that Marci didn’t produce himself. (It’s a Jake One beat.) But otherwise, “Downtown 81” is exactly the sort of laid-back, intricately worded deadpan splendor that you can expect to hear on the LP, whenever it goes wide. So maybe that’s worth the price of a full tank of gas.

2. Meek Mill – “GTA” (Feat. 42 Dugg)

Meek Mill released his Quarantine Pack EP on Friday, and the track currently getting the big push is the downbeat Lil Durk collab “Pain Away.” But the real thrill here is in hearing Meek and 42 Dugg getting bracingly urgent over a Detroit-ass bassline.

3. Chief Keef & Mike Will Made-It – “Status” Sosa and Mike Will have evidently chosen to name their new song after this column. Gentlemen, I see this tribute, and I appreciate it. I love you too.

4. Willie The Kid & V Don – “Mother Of Pearls” (Feat. Eto) This is pretty.

5. Statik Selektah – “Play Around” (Feat. Conway The Machine, 2 Chainz, Killer Mike, Allan Kingdom, & Haile Supreme)

Once upon a time, maybe 13 years ago, I was apparently such a recognizable and influential part of the New York rap press that Statik Selektah noticed me at an MOP show, introduced himself, and tried to get me to listen to his mix CD. All these years later, Statik is a globally acknowledged boom-bap specialist with enough juice to put three of the world’s greatest middle-aged rappers on a track together. I’m proud of Statik. I bet he gets nominated for a Grammy someday.

#alchemist #chief keef #d smoke #freddie gibbs #grammys #grammy awards #hip-hop #jay electronica #meek mill #mike will made-it #music #nas #rap #roc marciano #statik selektah #stereogum #willie the kid

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danyka-fendyr · 4 years

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The Thing With Feathers - 1

Chapter One: He Stuns You By Degrees

Okay guys, so here’s the deal with this fic. Right now I’m releasing this first chapter on Tumblr and by tomorrow it should be posted on AO3. However in the future it will be the opposite of that, getting slightly earlier AO3 releases than Tumblr releases. For purposes of my desire to make pop cultural references, I’m disregarding the fact that the original books are set in the 90′s. I’m really excited to release this one since I worked really hard on it, and I’m even more excited to make it my first fic ever posted on AO3. I hope all of you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Taglist: @dreamwritersimagines @rhabakoli @alwaysadreamingoptimist

Wordcount: 5.3k

Warnings: PTSD and mentions of war

There were two days in Hermione Granger’s mind that stood out as the happiest days of her life. The day that she realized Harry and Ron were in fact her friends, and the day the wizarding war ended. Today, she was fairly certain she was about to add a new day to that list. The day she became a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She pulled her planner out of the small beaded bag she still carried everywhere with her, a remnant of a war she had yet to truly stop fighting. She didn’t bother shuffling through it, simply summoning the planner she needed. Her compartment on the train was empty, so she reasoned that now was as good a time as any to go through her schedule for the day.

She was meant to visit Hagrid for tea before the banquet in the Great Hall, truly fortunate timing given that she doubted anything had changed about his cooking since her last visit, and therefore she would not be eating much. Next on her schedule was to drink 4.7 liters of pumpkin juice until she bled the stuff. She had fond memories of the sugary drink from her childhood and fully intended upon indulging herself tonight. In fact, where was the trolley witch?

Speak of the devil. A rustle at her compartment door caused Hermione to look up, an expectant smile on her face. It quickly fell away when she was greeted by someone who was most definitely not the trolley witch.

Dark, expensive looking wizard’s robes. Sharp, unnervingly keen blue eyes. And to top it all off? That shock of white blond hair, longer now then it was in their school days, falling into his eyes a little. McGonagall had warned her of her fellow new professor, but she had not been prepared for the reality of the thing.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen Draco since the war. She had seen him at his trial, and then she had seen him frequently at work. She had taken up a job at Flourish and Blotts for a while after it reopened, but while Malfoy had frequented the store, he had never approached her. He hovered creepily in the potions section before spending his limitless fortune on yet another book on the same subject.

Still, sometimes she caught him watching her with a haunted look in those eerie grey eyes, and as the months had drained on and summer had faded into fall, she had not only grown accustomed to his presence but had also found the flashbacks came less and less the more she saw of him. She gripped the ledge of the window now, imagining to herself a dull throb where the words had been carved. She believed phantom pain to be the technical term.

She expected him to say something. Something rude, specifically. Instead, he refused to meet her eyes. He merely mumbled something about how all of the other compartments were full and proceeded to take a seat as far away from her as he possibly could.

Now, Hermione knew they had a history. Knew that better than anyone, had it carved into her arm, a perfect parallel to the brand on his. That being said, she couldn’t help being a little insulted. Shouldn’t she be the one cringing away from him? Where was all that infamous Malfoy swagger now?

For months, he had all but stalked her in the shops. She had at one point had cause to ask her manager to let her work in any section but the potions section. For the first several months of her job, she had found herself frantically retreating to the back room just so she didn’t have to make eye contact with a former Death Eater she had only barely found the nerve to testify for and save from his own teenage stupidity and horrific family legacy, and now he didn’t even have the nerve to speak to her?

“You know I don’t bite. I hex, but I don’t bite.”

The tone in which she said it implied that she might make an exception on her no biting policy just for him.

He looked startled that she had even deigned to talk to him at all, as well he should. He certainly had no right to it. It gave her an odd thrill to startle Draco Malfoy. He looked like a frightened puppy, those blue eyes flung wide for just a moment. And he defied her expectations again. Instead of the cool swagger she had expected, he looked…reserved?

“Apologies, Granger. I just thought…you might want your distance.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Am I supposed to genuinely believe that you were just trying to do something nice for me?”

His eyes flitted to her left arm. Just for a moment, but it was long enough.

“I suppose you have reason enough not to. I assure you though, I have no desire to fight with you. I think we’re a bit past that, don’t you?” He managed a strained smile that rang false in Hermione’s eyes.

His calm infuriated her. She should be the self-righteous one here. She should be the one spouting out placations about their schoolyears and how they had grown and matured. Of all the people to try and teach her some kind of lesson, he was perhaps the one with the least right to.

“A bit past what, Malfoy? This?” She pulled back the sleeve on the arm he had been staring at earlier, watching him flinch back. “Just because you and Narcissa didn’t go to prison doesn’t mean we’re friends. It also doesn’t mean you can’t still go there. How do you think Mummy dearest will look after a few months in Azkaban?”

It was a low blow. She knew that. Even in her anger she hadn’t meant to fight that dirty, even in her memories of thrashing on a cold tile floor and blood, blood everywhere, so much of it, scars that would never heal, she had thought herself better than this. Somehow, the thrill of pleasure she got when he rose to her challenge made it all worth it.

“Alright then Granger, you want to be 16 again then fine. I suppose not much has changed, has it? You’re still pining after the Weasel, aren’t you? Tried to murder anyone with a flock of birds lately?”

Hermione stiffened. She hadn’t anticipated that he would be as familiar with her weaknesses as she was with his. She didn’t look at him when she admitted the unpleasant but unavoidable truth.

“Ron and I…are broken up.”

It had happened shortly after her 19th birthday. They had continued making public appearances together for the last year, but they had been gradually easing off, trying to avoid the media frenzy that would be just openly coming out with their split. Rita Skeeter would certainly have a field day with that one. She might as well tell Malfoy now though. They had been planning to announce it soon, using her new, distant position as an excuse.

That taunting yet comfortingly familiar smirk spread over his face as he leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up on her side of the compartment. “Finally got tired of him, did you? Realized you were too good for him after all?”

Unwittingly, in trying to rile her up by insulting Ron, he had hit on her other sore spot. The fact that she had not actually broken up with him.

She grit her teeth. “Other way around actually. He broke up with me. Are we done discussing my love life now?”

Malfoy nearly fell out of his seat from his precariously perched situation, the shock evident on his face.

“Wait, he broke up with you? Has he finally lost his damn mind?” Surprisingly, Malfoy burst into laughter. “I mean, I always knew he was a bloody fool, but now he’s just reached new heights.”

Blessedly, the trolley witch really was the interruption at the door this time, and if she was surprised to see Hermione Granger speechlessly staring at an abundantly amused Draco Malfoy, she did not comment on it.

“Treats, dears?”

Hermione perked up at this, all anger forgotten at the promise of a chocolate frog. As a child she had never had much money for the candy that Harry and Ron so wildly indulged in, and entirely too much self-discipline to do so anyway. Now though, her 20-year-old self had considerably more funds and less will-power, and she wanted candy. Lots of it. She probably looked downright gleeful, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Then Draco Malfoy did something entirely unprecedented. Something heartstoppingly, shockingly, terribly unprecedented.

Maybe it was the look on her face. Maybe it was an overwhelming sense of guilt. Maybe it was some deep, innate, Malfoyish need in him to be a show-off at all times.

Whatever the reason, it was Hermione’s turn yet again to be unpleasantly surprised when he said, “We’ll take the lot.”

“What about the kids?” She stumbled out a protest.

“We’re the last compartment in the train Granger. Surely you’d noticed.” He raised an eyebrow.

She had, in fact. She had chosen this compartment intentionally to avoid everyone, former classmates included. Most students who had chosen to go back for an eighth year had done so the year directly after the battle. However, others were not so lucky. Many of the Slytherin students had been wrapped up in messy trials, and consequently found themselves having to take something of a gap year. A few of the students who had lost family members in the war had also taken time off to grieve, and Hermione dreaded seeing their hollowed-out eyes and potential accusatory glares. Unable to face all of it, she had chosen to avoid it for as long as possible, selecting this compartment for that purpose. Something Malfoy had managed to make her forget with his outlandish declaration.

“I…yes, of course. But…we’ll?” There was a healthy dose of skepticism launched into the word.

“Unless you didn’t want anything?”

Was he…teasing her? Not maliciously, not to be nasty. No, actual, good-natured teasing.

Unfortunately, she never got to find out, as the trolley witch named her price and left them with their candies.

“I figured if I can’t win your allegiance with my good looks and charming personality, maybe I can buy it,” he joked, offering up one of the very chocolate frogs she had been dreaming of.

Wearily, she took it. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Of course not.” He nodded amiably, and again Hermione got the sense of being handled with kid gloves.

She scowled. “I’ll accept this chocolate frog on one condition.”

He had the nerve to look amused. “Which is?”

“You have to eat an acid pop.”

The smirk fell off his face.

“Come on Granger, can’t you just eat the candy and be happy?”

“Nope. I will only accept this strange truce on the condition that you eat an acid pop. It’s a simple request Malfoy.”

“You want me to burn a hole through my tongue to get you to be civil.” Waves of disbelief came off of him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you not know the charm to heal an acid burn?”

The mocking lilt to her voice worked exactly as intended.

“Of course I do,” he said, already reaching for an acid pop.

The look on his face the moment he stuck it in his mouth was worth 5 years’ worth of truce. She had never seen someone be so dramatic before, and she had been friends with Harry Potter. She couldn’t and wouldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her upon seeing his exaggerated agony.

He pulled it out almost immediately, working the healing charm on his tongue.

“Merlin, Granger, you’re a sadist.”

There was no malice behind the accusation.

“It’s true. I hide behind this bookworm façade, but get me alone and I’m a whole different person. Sticks and stones may break my bones but whips and chains excite me.”

Malfoy choked on the pumpkin pasty he was trying to enjoy. “What?”

Hermione was laughing again, entirely against her will.

“It’s a, a Muggle song,” she managed to gasp out.

“That’s what Muggles call music?” He stared at her, baffled.

“Oh, I can already tell this year is going to be great.”

“I hope so.” He sobered. “Did you…want to talk about it?”

Green wallpaper. Bellatrix’s face, manic and cackling. Screaming stretching into eternity, echoing through the halls, bouncing off the chandelier.

She opened her mouth to say no, opened her mouth to say something terrible again, but she saw his face first. He was unusually pale, even for such a pale boy as him, and he had that look in his eyes. The look from Flourish and Blotts. It wasn’t just apologetic. It was horrified.

Marble floors. Unforgiveable spells. And a boy with a face whiter than paper, mouth open to do everything short of beg his aunt to stop.

“I hope we can be civil this year, Professor Malfoy. I doubt we will ever be friends, but I’m sure we can manage civility.”

Despite her best intentions to maintain a brave face, she curled in on herself, resting her head against the compartment wall. She was set to stare out the window for the rest of the ride, and Malfoy seemed more than content to allow it, not pushing the issue any longer. He seemed to lose interest in the candy quickly, letting her know she could have as much of it as she wanted before falling back in his seat.

She didn’t think he meant to fall asleep. He couldn’t have if he knew what was going to happen. Regardless, he did fall asleep, and the screaming started soon after.

The first thing Hermione did was cast a silencing charm around their compartment. The last thing either of them needed was the entire train rushing down here. Then she crossed the carriage to sit across from him, intending to wake him. But he was…saying something. Perhaps it was torture to leave him like this, but hadn’t she been tortured? And she wanted answers now.

“Don’t hurt her! Please, please leave her alone. Aunt Bella, please..”

Hermione froze. She needed to wake him up. Right now.

She did it the fastest way she knew how, casting aguamenti, spraying water in his face and causing him to splutter awake. She performed a drying charm as well, barely thinking before waving her wand.

He panted, blond hair hanging down into his face, elbows resting on his knees. He looked like he might be sick, back and chest heaving with every breath.

“You were having a nightmare,” she said, like he might have been oblivious to it.

“Yes, thank you for that information Granger. Somehow it managed to escape me.”

She almost felt relieved to hear the bite in his voice. It was like getting the old Malfoy back, not one that walked on eggshells and had to be goaded into...well, goading her. It was truly a strange world they were living in.

“Oh, ever so sorry for not leaving you to your night terrors. I thought about it, but the screams were just a tad grating.” She glared at him.

He returned with just as much fire. “I think you’re getting my little nap and your dreams mixed up, Granger. Just because you scream my name in your sleep doesn’t mean we’re all so loud on our own time.”

“Funny coming from a man who takes every chance he gets to use my name.” She smirked triumphantly.

He lowered his voice, leaning forward and causing her to remember her venture over to his side of their compartment. “Does that bother you, Granger?”

His breath fanned across her face, warm and improbably smelling of mint, which it certainly shouldn’t have after all that candy. She almost asked him if he used a charm for that before remembering herself and recoiling.

“The only thing that bothers me is covering for you,” she snapped, crossing back to her side of the compartment before undoing her silencing charm. “Next time take some dreamless sleep, or aren’t you the potions master?”

He stared daggers at her but didn’t respond, settling back into his seat. He still looked shaken, but Hermione was determined to ignore him for the rest of the journey. It wouldn’t be much longer now anyway.

The rest of their trip did prove to be fairly uneventful, much to her relief. Their carriage remained blissfully scream free and before she knew it they were both at Hogwarts. Hermione breathed in the Scottish air on the platform, glad to be home.

When preparing for the trip to Hogwarts, she recognized that she could have apparated into Hogsmeade, but she quickly realized it was easier to arrive with a sea of students. Hermione Granger alone might have attracted attention, but Professor Granger and her students had earned a certain amount of respect. Funny how helping save the world got you mixed reviews but professorship earned you rights. She suspected Malfoy had similar reasons for traveling so. Not that she cared.

Hagrid gave her a jolly wave as he rounded up the first years, and she waved back before hurrying over to the thestral-drawn carriages in the hopes of finding a good one. A breeze whipped through her bushy mess of curls, pulling them into all sorts of new shapes as she tried to hold them back with her hands.

Upon arriving at the carriages, Hermione was filled with a sense of dread. Harry and Ron would not be able to ride with her this year. She gnawed at her lip, unsure of what she wanted to do until she was presented with a rather clear sign. A sign that was heading right towards her, red hair bobbing up and down through the crowd.

“Hermione!”

Arms flung themselves around her waist, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She returned the hug, more than happy to have a friend here. Ron may have given her up, but that didn’t mean his family had.

“Ginny. Did you want to get a carriage together?” Hermione asked, pulling back after a moment.

“Yes. You can tell me about the last year, I’ve barely seen you since you announced you were taking the gap year.” Ginny linked arms with her, dragging her towards one of the smaller carriages, just the right size for the two of them. “Done much reading?”

“I am happy to say yes,” Hermione said, laughing.

While everyone else who had taken the year off was now returning for their belated eighth year, Hermione’s situation was...unique. She had thought about returning for her eighth year the year after the war, but quickly realized she couldn’t do it. The memories of the girl who walked those halls as a student and who she was now were so incongruous she couldn’t bear it. Instead she had taken her NEWT’s mere weeks after the war, against the advisement of everyone in her life, including Headmistress McGonagall, but who was going to stop her? When Hermione Granger marches through the doors of the ministry demanding a NEWT’s examination weeks after saving the world, you don’t deny her.

“Should you be heading up with the students?” Ginny asked as Hermione stepped into the carriage. “What with your professorship now and everything.”

Hermione smiled. “I shouldn’t, but I’m doing it anyway. I was hoping to see you and maybe some of the others.”

“I still can’t believe the ministry made us repeat a year. I mean, I can because the Carrows weren’t winning any professor of the year awards, but still. How does the Battle of Hogwarts count as experience for all the seventh years but not anybody else?” Ginny slammed the carriage door behind her as she finished getting in behind Hermione.

“Oh please.” Hermione rolled her eyes, seeing right through her. “You’re delighted to be here. You’re more than eager to see your favorite professor.”

Ginny blushed, freckles disappearing in the red blooming over her cheeks.

“I’m more eager for the feast tonight,” she retorted.

“Oh definitely. I’m dying for some pumpkin juice.”

“Of all the things I didn’t anticipate you missing, pumpkin juice was probably at the top of that list. Who knew it could be so addictive?” Ginny threw herself back in her seat, red hair billowing across the dark upholstery. “Do you think we can convince the Thestrals to go any faster?”

“Worth a shot,” Hermione joked.

She felt a sudden surge of fondness for Ginny. They had both changed so much in the last year. Hermione had found a new lack of enthusiasm for the rules, and if she was honest, a lack of enthusiasm. It often felt as though the color had leeched out of her life after the war, and most days she simply didn’t have the energy to care about anything that wasn’t essential, which included other people’s opinions. Disillusionment with authority had partially carried her through the last year.

Ginny, on the other hand, had learned that freedom and independence weren’t the same thing. Hermione had watched her learn to rely more on the others in her life as she dealt with her own grief, the loss of Fred sharp and heavy in her heart. The one thing that hadn’t changed was their friendship, despite Hermione’s breakup with her brother. Some time after that awful seventh year, Ginny had become Hermione’s best friend, and she was rarely unconscious of the gift that was. While she would have spared Ginny her pain if she could have, it was an undeniable relief to have someone uniquely able to understand. Their losses were not the same, but pain is rarely particular in its forms of relief.

They chatted more on the way to the castle, and Hermione realized that this was probably the most she’d been able to talk to Ginny since the breakup. Ginny had gone directly back to school after the war, citing her need to stay busy as a reason, as well as the fact that she was already a year behind thanks to Minister of Magic Shacklebolt’s decision that 5th years and above were to repeat the year they had studied under Death Eater watch. Hermione hadn’t seen her over the holidays either, as it had simply been too awkward for her to show up at the Burrow, especially with Harry gone all the time. She had taken up residence in a little flat in Diagon Alley and abandoned nearly everything except for her work. Ginny had stopped by sometimes when she went to visit George at the shop, but it just wasn’t the same.

“So Minnie gave you her old job?”

“Ginny! Don’t let her hear you calling her Minnie, she might just give you detention for a week.” Despite her scolding, Hermione couldn’t hold back her smile.

It had been quite an honor to have McGonagall herself ask her to work as the new Transfiguration professor. She had been trying to find an adequate replacement for quite some time now, Hermione knew, preparing to transition her focus solely to being Headmistress of the school. Of course, knowing who some of her fellow professors were put a damper on her pride.

“Did you hear Malfoy is the new Potions professor?” Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Can’t believe they’re even allowing him near children.”

Hermione shook her head. “Neither can I. To be honest I thought McGonagall would be more strict than this.”

“Yeah. This feels more like a Dumbledore move,” she agreed.

“You never could tell what he was going to do next.”

“One day he was asking for socks for Christmas and the next he was sending my boyfriend out as a human sacrifice. What a wildcard.”

Ginny sounded almost admiring, and Hermione had to laugh. She remembered that Ginny had grown up with a whole household of wildcards, notwithstanding Percy. She had had a healthy appreciation for the unconventional instilled in her at a young age.

“Look!” Ginny said, excitedly pressing her face to the glass. “The castle!”

Hermione found herself just as eager, and she joined Ginny at the window, both of them acting like a pair of first years witnessing the architectural behemoth for the first time. It was just as Hermione had remembered it. She felt a sudden stab of longing and she found herself tearing up a little, almost feeling as though she was coming home.

At last they arrived, but Hermione was reluctant to part ways.

“I’m popping down to Hagrid’s for a few minutes for tea. Did you want to come with me?” She offered.

Ginny glanced between Hermione and the castle. “I would, but…”

“You have someone you need to see.”

Ginny smiled slyly. “Yes, I do. See you at the feast?”

“See you at the feast,” Hermione agreed. “I should be back in time to see the Sorting.”

“Topping.”

Hermione watched for a moment as Ginny headed through the doors of the castle, losing her in a sea of black, before heading down to Hagrid’s hut. She picked her way through the grounds, breathing in the late summer air. It was quite a warm night, and the walk to Hagrid’s was pleasant, though not long.

The moment her fist met the door, she heard Fang’s barking, and she couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. That smile only grew wider when Hagrid threw the door open, drawing her into a hug.

“‘Mione!” She could hear the tears in his eyes before she could see them. “Oh it’s so good to ‘ave you ‘ome.”

“Hagrid,” she wheezed, “I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry ‘bout tha’,” he said, letting her go.

As she suspected, his black eyes shown with tears and his hair, even wilder than hers, was beginning to grow wet with it. Oh dear. Somewhere between greeting her and letting go of her he had started crying in earnest.

“Hagrid, what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“I just, I missed you lot so much, and it’s so good to have you back. You know, ‘Arry comes by sometimes, but it’s just not the same, is it?”

Hermione felt that familiar ache in her chest. No, no it was not the same.

“Oh Hagrid, it’s alright. Perhaps we should head up to the feast now, if you’d like, make sure we’re in time for the Sorting.”

“Good idea ‘Ermione, very good idea.”

Hagrid nodded, pulling out of the doorway and allowing Fang through to bestow a healthy amount of slobber onto Hermione’s...everything. She didn’t mind though. She had missed him too, and a few quick charms fixed the state of her robes.

“Shall we then?” Hagrid asked after blowing his nose into a large polka dotted handkerchief.

“Yes, we shall.”

They made the trip back across the grounds, Hagrid managing to pull himself together before they had to enter the Great Hall. Hermione felt a sudden lurch of nerves in the pit of her stomach. She had been here a thousand times before, sure, but never as a professor. Walking up to the head table, she found herself searching for the one pair of eyes she knew could reassure her in this moment. She found another set entirely, however.

Ice blue eyes met hers in a cold stare, but as soon as he realized it was her he was looking at he seemed to effortfully turn it to something more neutral. As though aloof was the best he could manage in the presence of a Mudblood. Not that she cared.

She used the energy she might have spent being indignant with Malfoy to carry her up to the head table, taking her seat next to Hagrid and a chair that was, as of yet, unoccupied. It didn’t remain that way for long. Moments before the Sorting Ceremony was due to start, the body belonging to the pair of eyes she had been searching for earlier deposited itself into the chair next to her.

“Hello Hermione.”

Harry Potter grinned at her, his eyes a reassuring, familiar green, so far from the pale blue she had settled for earlier.

“Professor Potter.” She gave him a cheeky wink. “I see the rumors are true. You have successfully broken a curse that’s been around longer than you’ve been alive.”

“We’ll add cursebreaker to my list of titles.” He chuckled. “I’ll start signing all my letters, ‘Harry Potter, Hogwart’s Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, The Boy Who Lived, Breaker of Curses.’ That won’t make me sound arrogant at all, will it?”

“I think it rather works for you. They should give you the Order of Merlin, First Class, throw another one in there.”

“I’ve missed you.” He smiled at her, and in that moment Hermione felt more at home than she had in months.

“Well,” she said primly, wiping at her eyes. “You wouldn’t have to if you’d come around more often. Gin’s been dying to see you, you prat.”

“Always scolding.”

She could hear the warmth in his voice though, and knew that he felt, if not the same, then similar to her.

“Sssshhh, they’re bringing in the first years.”

And indeed they were, tinier than Hermione ever could have remembered them being. Of course, she had seen a fair few of them in her last weeks at Flourish and Blotts, coming in to get their school supplies, but it felt different seeing them now all dressed up in their robes and waiting to be sorted.

“Are there fewer of them?” Hermione asked, brow furrowing.

In fact, the whole hall seemed emptier than she remembered it. Certainly emptier than it should have been, even given the...casualties.

“Fewer muggleborns. A lot of the parents are still being cautious. Can’t blame them really, considering the last time Voldemort was dead he didn’t really stay that way.” Harry sighed.

“They’ll come around,” she reassured him.

He just nodded, eyes trained on the fresh generation of junior witches and wizards before them.

Hermione’s eyes, though, were on the hat, and so she was ready when it began to sing.

Through ancient magics lost long ago

The Founder’s made me, friends turned to foes

My purpose being a simple one

To tell you which colors to don

Which house in which you each belong

But first I sing this simple song

As I do every fall

So now I shall remind you all

That even when friendships seem to fail

There are some bonds that still prevail

Should we stand all united

We may find all wrongs are righted

In the light of this new day

House colors seem to fall away

So though I must pull you apart

I hope you’ll heed the wisdom I impart

Gryffindor blood runs red and true,

Ravenclaw skies are clear and blue,

Hufflepuff gold will prove the strongest of metals

and Slytherin emeralds will prove to have mettle

In differences there is strength

But love and loyalty go the greatest lengths

So let go old wounds and let the past heal

Or you may find danger most real

On that ominous note, the Sorting proceeded quickly and, thankfully, unremarkably. Hermione and Harry lead the applause for every student, regardless of house, and when it was over McGonagall stood.

“A few words before we begin our feast this year,” she said, clearing her throat. “Firstly, I would like to welcome our two new professors. Professor Hermione Granger-” Loud applause lead by Ginny. “-and Professor Draco Malfoy.”

Draco’s name was met with a hushed silence, and a few quiet boo’s rang out before McGonagall shot them down with a stern look.

“As always, I expect new faculty to be treated with the respect and consideration deserving of their position. Any who disregard this will find themselves meeting with hasty consequences. I wish you all a very good year. Let the feast begin!”

And with that, Hermione’s first year as a professor at Hogwarts began.

#dramione #harry potter #dramione fic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #tw ptsd #draco malfoy x hermione granger #professor!draco #professor!hermione #ginny weasley #hogwarts #au #professor au #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers trope #enemies to friends to lovers #coworkers to lover

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thomas-zkiel · 4 years

Text

Unravel to the System

Through hard work and motivation, the explorer can take a journey and achieve everything his heart desires. Good day to you reader, I would like to share my facts with you, hence, it’s my pleasure to introduce myself first, Hi there! It’s Niel Ivan Capacia, at your service.

I am a legal-aged student, hoping and dreaming for a brighter future. Still residing at Luntal Tuy, Batangas, 18 years of age. The youngest among the 3 children of Mr. and Mrs. Capacia. As the youngest, I do feel the pressure on everything I have to do; such as the respect, performance, and any other common things I am encountering with. There are times that I have to consider everything first before creating a great decision as it will face different consequences that might result to an unexpected and unnecessary outcome. I am raised in a strict way of parenting by my parents who helped me to retain a responsible and low-key personality at all the times. My father was a ********** employee, serving the country by joining the **** *********** of our nation, while my mother raised us, their children with tender and loving care. My brother graduated with a bachelor’s degree, took up the Information Technology course and will soon enter for his applied job, on the other hand, my sister graduated last year with a Bachelor of Secondary Education, Major in Social Studies and she passed the Licensure Examination for Teachers last Sept. 2019.

As a learner, I enjoyed stuffs like any other teen-ager supports with. Music is my getaway in a world of noise and Sea was my favourite place. I love writing poems and classical music that serves as my escape whenever I feel I need to unwind and chill for a while. I am a product of creative and imaginative world that’s why I keep looking forward and searching for answers every time I am struggling with something. Observing my environment was my strength with my day to day basis of life, I just want to keep myself unharmed of not bothered by anything annoying I might notice while observing. Thru observing, I can distinguish things and avoid those situations, a person or even conversations that can distract or can destroy my mood. All I know about myself is that I am not a typical guy just like the others out there, and I am having trust issues ever since I have faced something that force me to change my views about life.

I am currently studying at my final year of preparing for college, taking the Humanities and Social Sciences strand under Academic Track. Within the field I have chosen, I have obtained skills and learned the proper ways on what to do while interacting with my beloved literature. As a Senior High School student, I do keep on building the foundation of the road that may lead me to a successful life for the future. Taking up the Academic Track was indeed not easy, but through the right decision to enter this field, I have found out my true –inner self and desire, also to consider, it helped me to discover chances and hidden talents I have never imagined to unleash it within myself. From academic to non-academic performances, I survived and can proudly say that “I can do it”.

Just like my sister, I would like to take the Bachelor of Secondary Education, Major in Social Studies. At first, I don’t have any dream aside for serving the country or by joining the armed forces, but somehow I realized that there’s something more I want to try, some other choice I would like to achieve, and that is to teach. As I mentioned, teaching is not my first choice but when I come to my senses, I realized that if I am not going to pursue to the profession that matches with my strengths and abilities, I know someday it will be my regret as I go along and make my own path. I consider that my chosen strand, skills and even the most desired passion of my heart; deep in there, I found out that this would be my stepping stone to achieve the career and passion that I want to be; a Professional Teacher, a future teacher that can inspire and touch a heart of a learner. To give hope and to be part of their success, while having one goal and that is to be a productive and successful individual that can contribute to our society, an individual who can teach and help one-self and another, learning the principle of living together, learning to be, and learning to do that might be the key for a successful life.

“Experience is the best teacher” they say, and I agreed with that because aside from my memorable experiences from Junior High School, that helps me to decide what field should I pursue with, the great doors of opportunities opened right in front of me here at Senior High School and it feels much more amazing than my expected plans. I enhanced my social-communication skills, logical reasoning, and even learned different values in life that widely contribute to find my purpose. Application is a must after learning something new was my virtue while I am reflecting with every situation that gives me a lesson, through that way, I practiced to be more sensitive with everything whenever, wherever I am.

I have achieved awards out of unexpected situations like: Winning 1st place at the 2019 District- Division level of Festival of Talents, “Direk Mo, Ganap Ko” category, Awarded as the Best Actor for our short film entitled “ESCAPO” that also made it as the Best Film during the Drug Awareness Program by NDEP Club in our school, and securing the spot for 2019 “Lakan ng Taon” during the Buwan ng Wika. Fortunately, I was able to retain my academic performances as different events and activities like of those mentioned came up and didn’t serve as a hindrance to achieve my prior goal.

Year of 2019 lead and helped me to unleash my talents, discover new things and make me realize to accept things I wasn’t ready to admit with. Making myself busy was my way to cope up with stress but suddenly; I learned how to deal with it better than before, enjoying the moment and live life on its finest to lessen overthinking things that will ruin the day. One thing for sure that make me realize to look for the brighter side of something was by finding out that long term friendships wasn’t that lucky to survive if the foundation and the trust of that friendship was weakened as the time goes by.

By building up reasons and considerations, I choose to take risky decisions in order for me to justify and complete the puzzle of my never ending confusion. Fighting against the system, the stigma was indeed never easy and I am using all of my capabilities so that I can prove that I can achieve my goals regardless of every judgement, doubt and insult I am gaining from other people. Adulting, accepting responsibilities and even knowing own self better than before was the key to a successful plan-making process and by that way, I easily committed myself to the role I am supposed to stand for.

Right before you reach the end of this autobiography, I would like to share a phrase from the greatest person I know that leave a mark in my mind and my heart; “let’s meet halfway my friend” he said. Simple, too plain, a normal phrase that maybe means as literal as the statement was, but I have a reflection for that. It is not about how far you have been, how great your achievements are, how popular you are, if you do know the struggle when you were just a rookie and survived, do not brag someone about it and let them feel pitiful if they can’t reach out to seek for help to pursue their dreams, you were gifted to analyse everything faster than anyone else, you were blessed to bloom and to discover yourself earlier than others so you must inspire and motivate them instead. Do better, Create incredible things, be the better version of yourself, be a blessing to someone, and lastly… JUST KEEP GOING.

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sockablock · 5 years

Text

Footsteps crunched in the snow outside the Winnebago, and from within his space-heater paradise, Indrid Cold gave a sigh.

He’d already pulled some cushions off the sofa, cleared the floor of all his drawings, left two steaming mugs to cool on the coffee table. But even the promise of hot, sweet nog wouldn’t make this conversation any easier, so when the door to his trailer flung open, the cold blasting in, Indrid braced himself and two voices shouted:

“Did you know about this?!”

He coughed a few times. He gave Duck Newton a weak smile.

“Why don’t you come in?”

Duck seemed to settle slightly, but he didn’t look all that pleased. He took his helmet off and tucked his skateboard away, into the corner by stray umbrella.

He followed the Mothman’s lead and sat down on one of the cushions. He was handed a mug of nog, which he did not drink.

“So,” said Indrid, taking a sip from his own cup, “you’ve got questions.”

“I’ve got question,” Duck corrected. “You knew this was gonna happen, didn’t you?”

Indrid considered this for a moment. Then he shrugged, and gave a loose nod.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I was almost certain you’d storm in here, and I knew you’d be a bit…upset, when you did.”

“A bit?” Duck snorted. “Indrid, it’s a bit more than a bit. It’s…Jesus, everything’s changed! How’ll I, how’ll I fight, how’ll I protect people and stay alive? I mean…God, Indrid, God, why didn’t you tell me this would happen?”

The Mothman sighed. He took another sip of nog.

“I didn’t think it was my place,” he said. “It seemed…personal. And it’s not like an abomination attack, where you could prevent it ahead of time. That is, unless you know something I don’t about stopping asteroids.”

His joke, meant to lighten the mood, did not. Duck’s expression soured.

“You still could’ve said something,” he muttered. “Some kinda warnin’. A note, or a call, or somethin’ that’d let me know what to expect! That would help me, I dunno, process this shit, or somethin’. So I could’ve worked out what the hell it is I’m supposed to do now.”

Behind scarlet glasses, Indrid blinked a few times.

“I…I guess I’m sorry, then?”

“Yeah. Sure. Right, yeah, that’s helpful.”

Indrid raised an eyebrow. “What would you rather I do?” he asked. “Not be sorry? I can try that, if you’d like, though I’m not sure it will help.”

And then, Duck’s posture eased. He exhaled slowly, and shook his head. “Nah. Just…nah.” He set his mug down. “God, I’m the one who should be sorry, bargin’ into your house like this. It’s sort of uncalled for, in retrospect. I think I just…I’ve just had kind of a crazy couple of days, what with breakin’ my sword and learnin’ about Leo and losin’ my magic, and all that.”

“And you saved the Mothman from some Goatmen,” Indrid added quietly. “Er…thank you for that, by the way.”

Duck snorted. “Yeah, right, well. You’re welcome. Just don’t get in danger again, ‘cause I don’t think I can be savin’ you like that, anymore. Now that I ain’t special.”

“Well,” Indrid began, “I wouldn’t say you aren’t special—”

“Alright, relative to what I was before.”

“Even so—”

Duck raised a finger. “Uh-uh,” he warned. “Don’t go on tryin’. And don’t try to convince me I’m unique and stuff, either. Not only was I not the only Chosen One, now I ain’t even that! I’m just a normal guy. A regular…Joe Pasta. Mundane as all hell.”

Indrid considered this for a moment. “Still,” he pointed out, “you know more than most. You’ve seen more than most. And at this moment, you’re quite literally having a drink with the Mothman.”

Duck shrugged. “And fat lotta good that’ll do me,” he said. Then he added, “Er…no offense.”

“None taken.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess it’s just…Christ, I mean, what am I supposed to do, now? I ain’t any use to the Pine Guard, certainly, and I ain’t any use to anyone needing a hero.”

Indrid took a pensive sip of nog. “You might be,” he volunteered. “You don’t know that.”

Duck raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, sure, and how am I supposed to find out whether or not I am? Go runnin’ off into the woods and see if I can fight off a monster with my broken sword? One hit and I’m dead, Indrid. Ain’t much room for error and exploration, there.”

There was a brief pause, filled with the whirring of space heaters. Then Indrid sighed.

“Why did you come here, Duck?”

Another pause.

Duck gazed morosely into his cup. He breathed out again, slowly. “I dunno,” he mumbled. “If I’m bein’ honest, I think I wanted someone to blame for all this. I am sorry I sorta broke into your house, but I’m serious about one thing. A little warnin’ next time—not that I think there will be a next time—a little warnin’ would’ve been nice.”

Indrid tilted his head to the side. “Even if you wouldn’t have liked what I’d have told you? Even if it meant you would have to live your grief twice?”

Duck shrugged. “I’m just a backwoods forest ranger. But I think living it twice and bein’ prepared the second time would’ve suited me better.”

There was a faint nod. “Sorry, in that case. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Duck sighed. He sank into himself with the weight of burdens he’d never intended to own.

“Lots of people seem to think that, these days. Lots of people try to do things right, and somehow I get caught right up in the middle. Er…not that I’m blamin’ you, Indrid. I think I might just need to rant.”

There was another nod. This one was inviting.

“I think you’ve earned that, Duck.”

He reached for his eggnog. He swirled the mug in his hands.

“Ever since I was a kid,” he said quietly, “I’ve had parents tryin’ to tell me what was right and what was wrong. And when my idea of what was right for me didn’t match up with theirs, things…sort of went south for our relationship. And then as I got older, just about when I started bein’ comfortable as me, Minerva showed up and suddenly I had a destiny and a purpose, even though all I wanted to do was get a chance to catch up on all the dumb things I never got to do as a kid. And then years later, years later, I finally decide to actually, y’know, embrace this monster-huntin’ stuff, and the next thing you know, the stuff that initially made me special, and the stuff that let me do the job, just up an’ left. Well, not exactly left, more like had to hide ‘cause of an asteroid—”

“I think I get the picture.”

“—right. And, I dunno, I just…I just wish sometimes that the universe would’ve left me alone in the first place. Or…I guess I wish it would’ve kept helping me, now that I’m finally doin’ what it wants. Hell, that’d be nice, wouldn’t it? If the magic just came back, so I could throw this stupid skateboardin’ helmet away and go back to bein an X-Man.”

Indrid drained the last of his mug. He set it down by his elbow, and leaned against the table.

“I don’t know you that well, Duck,” he murmured, “but I was under the impression that you were doing this reluctantly. Aren’t you free, now? You have the perfect excuse to return to a normal life. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Duck sighed. He looked into his eggnog for answers, and found none.

“I think that’s the worst part,” he said softly. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think I want to.”

Indrid nodded. “Then what is it that you want?”

Duck was silent. A slow winter breeze touched the windows of the trailer.

“I want…I want to know that Minnie’ll be alright. I want to know that my friends’ll be okay. I want…I want the forest to be protected, and I want the Lodge to be safe, and I want you to be happy and I want Beacon to be fixed and I want my sister to come home, and, and…”

He chuckled, and wiped at the corners of his eyes.

“…I want someone to tell me that everything will turn out fine. I want someone to tell me it’s okay that I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, anymore, and I just wish I was still the kind of guy who could walk away from it all, who could ignore destiny and fate and stuff, because at least that guy…at least that guy knew how to wake up in the mornin’ without feelin’ like the whole world would burn down if he didn’t have the answers.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then a surprisingly firm arm wrapped around Duck’s waist. And then another, and then a weight on his chest, as Indrid Cold leaned in for a hug. His glasses shifted slightly when he pressed his chin to Duck’s shoulders, and there was a small bump from the crystal around his neck.

“Everything will turn out fine,” Indrid murmured. “It’s okay to be lost. It’s okay you don’t know what you’re doing. But, um…for the record, I’m happy you aren’t the person you used to be. Because if you were, there would be a lot more tragedy in Kepler, today. And I personally think I might’ve been eaten by a goat.”

There was a waiting quiet, afterwards. And then Duck felt a faint smile creeping across his face.

“You don’t mean that, do you?”

Indrid shrugged. “I meant most of it.”

They pulled away slowly, carefully, and though Duck felt a bit reluctant to break apart, he no longer felt quite as empty as before.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “I…I’m still confused, but it’s better, now.”

“Anytime,” Indrid nodded. “I’ve been told I give good hugs.”

This comment was weird enough that it shook Duck out of his daze entirely.

“What?” he asked. “Wait, what? How come?”

“I think it’s the fur,” Indrid grinned. “You know, when I’m full-on Mothman. And the wings make my embraces even more powerful.”

Duck snorted. “Fuck, I never thought about hug-power before. And you know, actually, Indrid, you’d probably make a great member of the Pine Guard, if that’s the case! Hell, I’m sure you’d be much better at it than me, what with the flyin’ and the fortune tellin’, since my skills now only include skateboardin’ and two years of high school trombone.”

There was a faint laugh, and then Indrid shook his head. “I’m not much use in the field,” he admitted. “Most people are put off by my human appearance, not to mention my…Sylvan one. And I’m not really cut out for fighting.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I happen to know of a group that’ll probably be lookin’ for a tank, sometime soon. Promise me you’ll think about it, though?”

Indrid seemed to understand enough to give a soft chuckle. “Sure,” he said. “If I change my mind, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

Duck drained the last of his eggnog, then set his mug back down on the table. “I should get goin’ soon,” he sighed, glancing over towards his skateboard. “I’ve gotta get back before my break ends, and I can’t exactly run at the speed of light, anymore.”

Indrid raised an eyebrow. “Could you do that before?”

“Nope.”

He laughed again. “Alright, well, at least you’ve got the practice.” Then he paused, and seemed to wrestle with something for a moment.

“Ah…Duck?”

There was the click of a helmet being locked into place. “Yeah?”

He thumbed the corner of his sleeve. “I was…goofing a bit about the hugs, but…well, if you ever do want to talk, my trailer’s always here. I’ve always got plenty of nog.”

Duck reached for his skateboard. He stared at the ground, for a few moments.

“…thanks, Indrid. That, um…that means a lot to hear.”

Indrid nodded. “And…when your sister does come back,” he added hesitantly, “I would, er…she sounds like a great person. And like someone really important to you. So…if, if it’s alright, I think I’d quite like to meet her.”

Duck turned in the doorway, skateboard in hand, the afternoon sun draping warm across his shoulders.

There was a gentle smile to his lips.

“Her name’s Jane,” he said softly. “I bet she’d love to meet someone important to me, too.”

#guys i think my keyboard slipped #the adventure zone #taz #taz amnesty #fanfic #duck newton #indrid cold #long post #i am SORRY if the cut doesn't work holy FUCK #indruck #jay writes #taz spoilers #not critical role #welcome to my first foray into taz fic ahsdjkahsjk #fanfiction #fic #text

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13-timeslove · 5 years

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Thirteen Time Ch1: The Docks

“I can’t believe he made pushed up my deadline again!” You groaned loudly into your Akita plushie. “I told him that this part of the manuscript needed more time considering I had to do more research! And what does he do?! Pushed up another fucking week!”

Your roommate Alice sighed as you continued to roll in your bed. She placed her hot milk onto the side table before sitting by the edge and patting your head. You only groaned once more before rolling into her lap. “My editor is an ass”

“You could always get a new one”

“...but he’s a good editor” you sigh dramatically.

“Then don’t complain sweetie”. Alice began to stroke your (h/c) hair as you laid in her lap, a small habit that has formed between your friendship. “Besides, it’s only one week difference. How bad can it be?”

“It’s awful when you have writer’s block”

“Oof”

You turned your head around, looking up at the black haired girl. “Why couldn’t I be smart like you? I wish I had your brain” She started laughing.

“Bitch you don’t want my position! Medical school is such a pain in the ass. You’re the lucky one with your brilliant creative mind, and nagged a job right out of college”

“Shut uppp. You’re better than me”

“No I’m not. And make me” she said while slapping a pillow to your face.

You squealed and rolled off her lap in an attempt to escape her attacks, sitting on the floor giggling to yourself. Alice followed suit and sat next to you, giving you the chance to rest your head against her shoulder. “This is why you’re my best friend”

“This is why I’m your only friend”

“Ouch!”

“Kidding”, you both laughed together. This is what your life with her was like, sarcastic jokes and compliments that neither of you would truly accept.

Alice was there for your since the beginning of college, from the time you accidentally spilled ink on her white pants because of sleep deprivation, to your graduation last year, and even to your heartbreaks. She was always there.

“Hey, Alice”

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?”

“Bout 5:30, why?”

You got up from the ground, and grabbed your blue jacket from the floor. “I’m going to take a quick walk, maybe seeing the sunset will clear my writer’s block”. Alice leaned over your desk to toss a small box over to you.

“Don’t forget these”. You caught them, knowing very well that they were your candy cigarettes. “Still don’t understand why you like that stuff?”

“Because they are yummy” you replied happily. She only scoffed, shaking her head sighing. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be back in half an hour”

“Be safe”

“Will do!”

You started to head out of your apartment complex, walking down the street. You pulled your iPod out of your pocket and continued to walk down the street. “High hopes” was blasting through your headphones, and you honestly didn’t care about the people staring at you head banging in the middle of the side walk. Hell, you even made eye contact with them and mouthed the lyrics hoping they would sing along somehow (some did fortunately).

Eventually, you felt the cold breeze of the shore biting at your open skin. You zipped up your jacket close. Pulling out the candy box, you took out a candy cigarette and placed it between your lips.

You found a spot close to the edge of the wooden rail and leaned against it. Chewing the end of the candy cigarette, you found that all stress in your body left. The sun was close to falling behind the waves, giving the sky a red and purple ombré (you couldn’t help but take a photo for instagram). This is nice, you thought.

....

“No, no girl. Leave her be”

You felt a nudge at the end of your leg, seeing a small dog bitting at your jeans. If you were a cartoon character, your head would’ve exploded at how cute this dog was.

“Hi baby!” You said in an overly high pitched voice. You knelt down to its level, letting the cutie jump in your lap and lick your hand.

A low chuckle echoed your ear, making you realize that there was still the owner on the other end of the leash. Whoops.

“Seems like she likes you” ooohhh he’s British.

“Heh, I’m glad” you tried to look up at him, but with the sun in your face you really couldn’t get a good look. You held your hand in front of your face, making an awkward smile. “Sorry I petted your dog without asking first. She’s just really cute”

You got up. “No no, I don’t mind. I’m just surprised. Frankie isn't really open to people on the streets. You’re the first”

“I have been chosen” you joked around. The sun started to set behind the sea, but when you tried to look back at the man in front, your eyes took longer to adjust. All you saw of him was his baseball cap.

“Do you mind if I have one?” You cocked your brow.

“I’m sorry?”

“A cigarette. Do you mind if I have one?” He was pointing at the white stick at your mouth, and you pulled it away realizing what he was referring to.

“Oh, um yeah you can. But they’re not cigarettes. They’re candy cigarettes”

“Those things exist?”

“Yeah actually” you laughed out. “But they’re made of sugar rather than tobacco. So sorry”

“No it’s fine. Um” he paused and started to rub his neck. A little embarrassed that he didn’t realize the damn thing wasn’t even glowing. “C-Could I have one still?”

“Sure” you smiled back. You opened the box again, giving the stranger a white sugar stick (author: why does that sound like a weird lingo for a drug...). He placed part of it in his mouth, chewing at the end.

“Oh god, its so plain”

“It’s unique taste” you laughed at him.

The two of you ended up leaning against the rail. Watching the waves crash over each other through the slightly dim sky. You didn’t like pure silence, so decided to try and make a conversation.

“Based on the accent, I assume you’re not from here? Or at the very least, new around here?”

You heard a chuckle escape his mouth, and honestly it was pretty soothing. “Yeah. I’m not from around here”

“Visiting or work, if you dont mind me asking?”

“Sorta for work. I um...I just finished a big project with my friends. We’re celebrating here, and have a um, contest coming up”

“Oh cool! What research did you guys do? Wait! Are you the guys who participated in the research regarding experimental drug for those who suffer from extreme GAD?”

Even though it was dark, you didn’t have to see his confused face as you threw all these questions at him. Well, that and the awkward laugh gave it away. “I’m sorry, but, wh-what?”

You brushed your hair behind your ear, embarrassed. “Sorry. I just realized that project can refer to multiple things, and my brain immediately went to medical research for some reason”

“Are you medical student by any chance?”

“Oh god no, that field is too advanced for me. I just like reading about medical discoveries”. He smiled at your response, a little astounded at how excited you got over it. “Sorry about that”

“It’s fine” he laughed, almost spitting out the candy cigarette. “Our project was actually a film we’ve been working on. It’s been a long process”

He looked off at the distance. His hat was shadowing his face, but if you focused, there were distinct bags under his eyes.

“It must have been exhausting”.

“Yeah it was” He smiled lightly. “There were a few bumps in the road, but...we all managed”

He pulled the candy cigarette from his mouth, looking at the chewed end. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t have a real cigarette that made him look depressed, but you knew that it was something else. Being the cheesy person you were, you pulled a penny from your pocket and placed it on the rail near him. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Penny for your thoughts? It, seems like those bumps were a bit more exhausting that the whole project”

“Am I that obvious?” He sighed when he grabbed the shiny cent.

“No. I’m just that good at reading people”. You leaned on the rail, twirling the candy between your teeth. “When people experienced hardships, they either need to talk about it, or push it away. What kind are you?”

“...with people I know...I push it away”. You leaned forward to look at him, the back of his head facing you.

“Well...luckily you don’t know me”

And for the first time throughout this whole conversation, this guy that you’ve been talking to for the past fifteen minutes, finally faced you. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you could see him.

He was handsome, no doubt about that. Young, but at the same time, has worn out features such as his eyes. He gave you a full on smile, averting his eyes to the side.

“What’s your name?”

“...(y/n). Whats yours?” You smirked.

“I am Nobody”

you laughed at him again. “Odysseus fan, who would’ve guessed”

“You wouldn’t” he smirked as well. You paused at the conversation, thinking about what he said earlier.

“You asked me my name so you would get to know me. And therefore, not tell me your hardships, didn’t you?”

“...god damn you really are good at reading people aren’t you?”

“Good is an understatement”

You felt your phone ring, and when you looked down, you saw that it was a text form Alice.

Girl get your butt home. I am about to call the cops to get you home safe.

“Boyfriend?” He asked you.

“No. Best friend. My cue to leave”. You squat down to pet Frankie before you left. “By girlie”. You got back up. “Nice talking to Nobody new”

“It’s a good name”

“Just don’t take it seriously”

“What do you mean?”

You started to walk off the boardwalk a little, but looked back at him one more time. “Nobody means someone who isnt worth something. But if you look at it as another way, Nobody always refers to somebody”

“...you’re an interesting character aren’t you (y/n)?” You smiled at him, before giving Nobody a quiet nod and walked off the boardwalk. Passing by more people as you left.

Nobody, that’s absolute BS.

“Hey, there you are! Gwil and I have been looking for you everywhere”

Their friend only looked down the boardwalk, and they waved his hand over his eyes. “Ben?”

“...Rami. I”

“You good dude?”

“I...I just met someone”

“And?” Gwil started. Ben pulled the candy cigarette out his mouth, staring at it.

“Guys, where can I get more candy cigarettes?”

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #series #benhardyxreader #thirteentimes #xreader

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lady-wildflower · 6 years

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Rant - Take 2

This is gonna be a bit of a rant, bit of a continuation of one I’ve already done. Probably yelling into the wind, but I feel like putting it into words.

So, since I was really little, I’ve always been told that I’m “gifted,” “mature for my age,” all that. But one thing that irks me is that that becomes all I am to a lot of people.

I’m clever, I’m the smart kid. I’m that guy who people think will probably be a successful innovator or some shit. And right now, that’s all I know how to be; I was never sat down and told how to be a functional human being, how to interact with people.

People are surprised when I say I’m tired from school. Of course I’m fucking tired. I’m human. I don’t have infinite energy for academic pursuits. I don’t love school. I’m sick of it. Don’t be all surprised when I say I’m tired or that I don’t feel like going. I have no reason to be any less exhausted than any of the rest of you.

People are surprised when I get an average mark for an assessment. As if I’m somehow a rubric. Oh, that test must have been hard, Steve got an Achieved. I’m not a fucking rubric, I’m a student. If I do badly in a test, or I do average, that’s a reflection of me, not the damn test.

When I attend the school’s Excellence Evenings, they give speeches about how that grade is a “work ethic,” something more than just a grade or some shit. Except, to me, it isn’t. It’s literally just a letter indicating how well I did. I don’t think I deserve to be there either; I may have got an Excellence, but most of the time, I barely even want to, let alone try to. I don’t have the attitude they talk about, I just want to get things over with.

Hell, I think of it as more of a reminder of how I was brought up; academia over all else. Something I desperately want out of. I don’t want to get Excellences all the time, but I keep getting them by fucking accident. I put in as little effort as I could without getting annoyed about it into my Physics assessment and got top marks for fucks sake. Physics is my most hated class!

I want to become more independent and more in control of my own life, but I wasn’t brought up in a way that’s let me be easily assertive or confident. I was brought up to be a timid sack of shit who can’t assert himself - largely thanks to a parent who fortunately left of their own accord. I may not have seen her in over a year, but her effects still remain.

It’s even more annoying when teachers assume I’m planning to get a career in their field (without even mentioning that, you know, I take 4 other subjects, why do you assume yours is special to me?) just because I do all right in it. My Digital Technology teacher, for example. All right person, but assumes that every student in her class is there for university stuff. Not an unreasonable assumption, given NCEA Level 3 is designed for UE. Except, less than half the class intends to go into it as a career, and I’d expect a couple of those will change their minds (the class only has like a dozen people in it). When I didn’t put up my hand when she asked who was, she was shocked. “What do you mean you’re not?”

I don’t need that fucking expectation. The only thing I actively plan to get into as a career is writing, and that’s like a hobby job at this point.

And is it so bad that I, a 17 year old, do not have a comprehensive plan for every single little thing I want to do with my life? I don’t want to be some sort of hyper-successful person. That’s always been what other people have wanted out of me. I just want to do my own thing. Is that so much to ask?

I have almost no goddamn agency. Want to wear a particular item of clothing that my dad doesn’t particularly like? Nope. He even steals it and keeps it in his room. Despite the fact that that item of clothing (a coat which is very comfy and fits me better than the one he bought me which he won’t let me wear until we get the sleeves hemmed - it’s not a revealing garment or inappropriate, it’s literally just a long coat) was not bought by him, it was bought by a friend and gifted to me thus he has no right to take it in the first place.

I could have sworn I was 17, not 7. Why does he get arbitrarily chosen veto power over what I wear when he doesn’t even own the item in question and when I’m fucking 17?

It’s almost at the point where the only way I can get any agency is to move out, except I need more agency to learn how to be independent to do so. That also puts intense strain on Dad’s finances, and while I want my own agency, I don’t want to make life difficult for him. I’m not a spiteful ass, I’m just frustrated.

Sure, I’m an okay student. But I don’t want to be an excellent student. I want to be a good person. I want to be happy with my life. School ain’t that. I’m supposed to be at least somewhat independent. But no, apparently folks want me to be a high school student and nothing else. “Get a life?” I wish.

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batch83 · 5 years

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Well done, you!

An LSE Journey Essay

Looking deep into ourselves to find our real motivation can be hard especially when everything around us have been going by in a blur. Our true purpose, should we ever find it early, tend to get lost somewhere between making a living, paying the bills, raising kids and running a hundred different errands. Before you know it, you're well into your middle age and wondering where did the last 10 years go. It is in this age that I started to question what my endgame is.

I was born in the North to Ilocano parents, raised in Metro Manila and educated in both private and government institutions. I majored in Architecture but majority of my work is in another discipline. For the past 13+ years in Singapore, I worked, and mostly enjoyed, working in Civil Engineering specifically in Geotech where we do a lot of underground works for tunnels and transport structures. Such a badass feeling for a female to actually do this in a predominantly male field! I left the Philippines not because there was a pressing need to provide. On the contrary, I have a stable but boring job in the city. I was surprised when I got the call from a foreign headhunter that, at the prospect of new adventures and since there's nothing to lose (they paid for all the expenses anyway), I relented and went along to see where'd I'd end up. Fortunately, fate has been good.

Being a migrant worker for most of my youth can be quite unsettling. I have all the time in the world in a new environment full of possibilities, earning a decent disposable income and not saddled with pressing responsibilities. When you're new in a foreign land, the allure of all things shiny are very tempting. It's these times that I went on a spree, a moderate one by standard, but to an Ilocano it's a spree nonetheless. Year in and out, I accumulated stuff that I liked and like to share with my family. But as my belongings grew and lugging them from one rental house to the next becomes harder, I thought "there must be more to gain in living here than this".

Enter social media.

I spent numerous hours scrolling, clicking and just wasting time away but it's an upside that I saw an A-LSE sponsored seminar on one of the shared posts. At this point I'm already indoctrinated in the concept of financial management by another OFW (also an admirable Fin-Lit and Social Enterprise advocate) and seeing the A-LSE program page with all the bright faces of the students, my curiosity was piqued. What is this group that makes people come together and learn new stuff to improve themselves? The FOMO (fear of missing out) is strong and I had to join in on the fun. I finally got in a year after putting my name down on the waiting list.

And so, the grind begins.

The program started with self-introspection -- who are you, what makes you get up in the morning, what's your mission -- its wading at the rubbish and finding the bits that radiate sunshine. It's the equivalent of doing the Marie-Kondo in your life and removing the clutter.

As a parent, my goal is to give my child the tools and opportunities that will enable him to achieve good things in life. Not great, but good. I can only lead him to the starting line, I will leave it up to him to finish it in ways he sees fit. Of course, to be able to do that I will need the financial capacity to provide for his primary needs but also to be there emotionally to support and guide him in his decisions. My goal is to show him the dignity in working and the joy of doing good, to impart the values I've learned from my parents, to have fun and appreciate the arts.

As a sibling, my goal to help them finish their tertiary education has been fulfilled. My siblings are now enjoying their chosen professions and has now embarked on new pursuits to ascend to the next level. Next is to help them map out their financial plans for the future -- that's a tactic to make them financially independent and not borrow money from me.

As a daughter, my goal is to see my parents enjoy the latter years of their lives and to help them come into terms that they need to step back and let their children take on the responsibilities on managing their estate.

As a person, my goal to become an instrument of change in however small way I can manage. Running for public office seems the easiest route but as I have no death wish and plan to live a longer-ish life, that's a no-go for me.

My goal is to achieve financial independence in the next decade, to establish my own enterprise, have enough to sustain my health coverage and retirement in the later years and leave a worthy legacy to my family. Lastly, I want to travel every year or every other year to places that are culturally rich and ‘gram worthy.

The 10 sessions have brought immense knowledge and insight about the core competencies of the LSE program. Journals have been written to provide a deeper insight for each session.

For Leadership, I find Tina Liamson's lecture on Migration & Principles of Leadership enlightening. The most fascinating has got to be from Dr. Juan Kanapi's Appreciative Inquiry. This is the first time I've heard of it and it's quite difficult to grasp the idea and can be easily confused with positivity. But at the end, It shows that if practiced AI is not just mind tricks but a powerful tool in realising your full potential.

The best lectures for Financial Literacy are the split sessions of Vince Rapisura and Edwin Salonga. (Edwin's lecture is about Social Entrepreneur but I remembered a lot more on his lecture about Finances, hence…) Who knew studying finance concepts could be this good? And most definitely not boring! I now have a deeper understanding about managing my finances better and learning that my current insurance is shit, which I really need to rectify soon. I can't tell you enough how the things I've learned from these wonder duos are gold. Call me by any other name (read: biased), but Ed's lecture is my most favourite of the lot.

The Social Entrepreneurship sessions have the most gravitas for these lectures carry the main core of the program. They're not all boring, mind you, but can be a bit challenging. The lectures on this series provided many useful tips for future entrepreneurial endeavors and is a big help in formulating our business plan. Other insights for the SE series can be read here and here.

At every journal writing, I try to reflect on what I've learned and think of ways to apply them in my daily life. Most often I find things and events that need to be tweaked or heavily redesigned in order for it to be aligned with my future goals. Most pressing of these are the consolidation of my assets and liabilities, and making a clear plan on mapping out my finances that will include my son's future education. The next point is to work on myself and how I carry myself as a leader starting at home. What better place to practice than to apply these learning in the household first? Hopefully, I will be able to improve my inability to forge meaningful connections to people by the time I have to build my own enterprise. I am not aspiring to be Miss Friendship, I'm ok with Miss Effective Boss or even Miss Influencer-For-The-Greater-Good. Tall order, I know, but we're allowed to dream and dreaming is free.

Joining the program made me realise the answer to my question, "So what happens now?"

During my first few years as a migrant worker, my goal is to save so I can buy gadgets to connect me home. After having a mobile phone, a laptop and the ability to call home any time, ano na? As I enter my 14th year of being a migrant, I've somewhat been able to achieve the things I hoped for. Not the millions of dollars in bank account **fingers crossed**, but a comfortable life. But that restlessness persists. Learning that there are available avenues to pursue these in the Philippines is a big help in making me step into the right direction closer to the things I wanted to become. Programs like these give hope. With that, I realise that there is more I can do back home than where I am currently at. I have the knowledge; I can share it -- starting with a small group of like-minded people who are willing to help themselves. Acquiring and sharing knowledge is free so I may as well start with that.

All the sessions have been audio recorded and kept in a cloud that I shared with family members. Many of the things Dr. Kanapi said are the things I so want to say to my father. Sharing it is just a click away, let him hear it straight from the board-certified horse's mouth.

I also plan to lead the residents in our small sitio towards a better understanding of financial management which can be instrumental in their livelihood. These people have been known in the family for decades. They have worked alongside our grandparents in tilling the land and their children continues to do so. While there have been advancements in their lives, I believe there is more to be done -- better education for their children/grandchildren, opening bank accounts, accessing government programs, using tech etc. I am excited to share with them the different concepts we have learned in the program, and also a good training ground for me to improve my leadership skills.

I highly commend the A-LSE program for striving to make the Filipino Migrant Workers' quest for relevancy and better lives. Much appreciation to A-LSE founding Team and the current secretariat who makes it run smoothly. The past month has been very trying but everyone has been great in providing feedback and extending their hands. For that, a big Salute! to everyone -- for the team and the speakers who traverse the globe every year.

As a program alumnus, I will most definitely uphold the values of the LSE in the best way that I possibly can. Sadly, my physical involvement with the LSE will not extend to the volunteer work for the next batch as I have made plans for the next year that will make it impossible to fulfill my duties on the site . However, I am willing to extend my skill/expertise in whatever way I can as long as it is done remotely.

Thank you, A-LSE.

Congratulations, Batch 83!

2019 will be remembered as the year I turned another leaf over.

#ALSE Singapore #My LSE Journey #ALSE Batch 83 #Ateneo OF-LIFE

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antiques-for-geeks · 5 years

Text

Game Review : Slipstream 5000

PC / Gremlin Interactive / 1995 / Originally £29.99

Ah, the future.

Everything is shiny and new. All the time. The womenfolk are all improbably thin and dressed in tight fitting spandex or bikinis. Because that’s that happens in the future, we just go nuts for the man-made fibres. Just look at Buck Rodgers. Or Star Crash.

“Girls of 25th Century”, as envisaged by a boy aged 15 and a quarter with his bedroom door locked...

And in the future are sports; not sports as we know them, sports that are just a little bit different and played out to a pumping electro soundtrack that might just sound like Depeche Mode, Einstürzende Neubauten or Nitzer Ebb but played on a cheap Casio organ to avoid royalty payments.

Yes. The future. And it’s here in the shape of a racing game.

Set at a nebulous point in the near future, Slipstream 5000 brings us pilots racing their aeroplanes around courses around the world. There is no dystopian backstory, no settling our differences through sport rather than war - this is an out and out racing between between ten characters and their flying machines.

This is something of a relief. It gets a bit tedious to constantly be told that society has collapsed and to settle our differences we now play Bridge or Whist, all as an excuse for a developer to hide their slightly naff obsession with Gin Rummy behind a smokescreen rather than run the risk of them being discovered in a latex old-man bodysuit down the WI of a Thursday night.

Each race begins with a fly-through, showcasing the game’s graphics engine. It whips along at a good pace on Pentium level machinery without a 3D graphics accelerator.

Slipstream 5000 belongs to that first flush of 3D games where texture maps were planted on large polygons rather than using smaller and smaller polygons to create the landscape the developers wanted to convey. Sure, even at the time it never was the prettiest but is a fair compromise given the power of the machines it was designed to run on.

Controlling your plane takes full advantage of the 3D environment, allowing you to fly in all directions and creating a feeling of freedom. Playing with a decent joystick really adds to the game, although keyboard control works well enough. Oddly, no provision has been made for a mouse in-game, which combined with the keyboard à la Quake would have been as good a choice at the time as a joystick.

Some circuits verge on the spectacular; not just underground but underwater too. Don’t worry about hitting the glass sides, they won’t break.

The circuits that make up the championship are split between the metropolitan and the natural - one minute you’re flying through the Grand Canyon or Icelandic Fjords, the next it’s London and under (or over, you can choose) Tower Bridge. There are ten tracks in total; before you race each track, you’re treated to a fly-through to help you plan your approach to the race. Presented in a TV style, it can be quite like marmite. You’re going to either love or hate the way it’s done, which comes down to the in-game commentator. More on that later.

Slipstream 5000 makes the most of the axes you can fly in. Each course has its own challenges; enclosed circuits where you are racing through caverns or tunnels require skill and dexterity as the elevation of the circuit changes. Clattering around the courses, scraping the sides of your vehicle will work, but at the cost of performance. Each time you connect with the circuit, another player, or are hit being an opponent’s weapons incurs damage, either to the engine or the controls. As more damage is inflicted, your craft becomes less and less performant, making it easier to compound the damage to meaning that too much damage and it’s game over. Fortunately, each circuit has a pit tunnel where damage is remedied in blaze of lightning. Race wisely and taking the pits each lap can also make you quicker, even when you are not damaged.

Cash bonus? That’ll do nicely.

Each track is lined with bonuses and forfeits, either positioned randomly or dropped by shooting the drones that fly along as you do. Cash is the most valuable thing, but you can also pick up engine and control repair which fix your maladies on the spot, turbo recharge or a short boost of turbo. If you’re unlucky though you get a disrupter that’ll reverse your steering and is more or less guaranteed to chuck you into the walls.

You start the game by choosing your plane and unlike some games, they’re all equal. It’s not how they start, it’s how they are upgraded that is key. For a single race, it’s not that important, in a championship it can be the difference between first and midfield. Some upgrades and weapons just aren’t worth the money and it really becomes a matter of making sure that you chose wisely.

And, you’re going to need weapons. The AI pilots give as good as they get.

The point where you chose your plane is, erm, very much of it’s time. Cheesier than a pack of Wotsits and presented in a very stereotyped way. Clearly the developers were going for a Wacky Races vibe. This extends to the virtual characters in the game: Lyall Mint, the deliberately unlikable, ex-racer and his prim and proper career presenter, Crystal Eyes, as well as the game’s AI pilots.

This is one half of your commentary team, Lyall Mint. He's about to crack a funny, the zany ex-Slipstreamer that he is. Pity all of his comedy material is made up of Dad jokes and insipid sexual innuendo.

Each of your adversaries has their own traits and this is emphasised by their on-screen presence. You get transmissions periodically during each race - sometimes taunting, sometimes bemoaning that they’ve been hit or crashed. It’s a nice idea, if the implementation is rather cliched and adds to the feeling of rivalry in the game. This was something that was not common at the time and unique to the CD version of the game.

Flying against the AI players is good and fortunately Gremlin’s developers added the ability to go head to head with real players; old school two player splits the screen, but there is an option to connect two machines together. It’s not really network play as it’s known today, rather it’s via serial cable (yes, physically linking two machines together) a modem connection or being on the same physical network. Slipstream 5000 fell at that awkward time where the internet was a thing, but standards weren’t.

Yes, multiplayer is not for the casual gamer of today. Those of us playing games in the 1990s were made of sterner stuff. Man-up if you don’t want to be billy no-mates.

Dog fights are fun but can be time consuming. Sometimes it’s better to fly low, turn on the turbo and leave the other pilots to it

So Slipstream 5000, offers you a slice of the future like no other. Or, truth be told, like any other. This so easily could have been a franchise like WipeOut; maybe this would have really taken off (excuse the pun) with the console versions that had been planned. The game would have been really good on a Playstation or Saturn. It’s just a shame that this never happened.

Like so much of Gremlin’s catalogue around that time, this rather smacks of an opportunity missed.

Buying it today

You have lots of options for this today. You lucky, lucky, people. If you are looking to buy it on an auction site, you can pick up a copy pretty cheaply. The original big-box release will set you back in the region of £15, but be later re-releases in their paper sleeves, jewel or DVD cases can be anything from £2.50 to £5. If you’re going this way, make sure that you don’t end up overpaying for a budget version...

Finally, you can skip all this retro media nonsense if you have a PC and get it on Steam or GoG; you won’t have to faff about with DosBox or worry about converting those 3.5” floppies to disk images. Unfortunately, if you’re using anything other than Windows, you’ll have to make your own arrangements.

Commentariat

Tim : Slipstream 5000 was a firm favourite of mine; I first played it as a demo that came on a CD with PC Format in 1995 and excelled on the Pentium that I got to play it on. Although nothing to do with Magnetic Fields, the game had a ring of Super Cars about it in terms of tone and presentation. A sort of Super Cars ++ as it were.

Having played the demo to death, I bought it when it came out on budget - I was not, and am still not, made of money - I bought the title. The demo pretty much summed up the playing experience of the game and although there were extra circuits and a championship mode, it didn’t really add a huge amount to the fun in single player mode...

With only three levels of difficulty, it’s not that hard to finish quite high up the pecking order in every race. This may be ok in a single race, but in Championship mode it reduces the sense of jeopardy. Where the game does come alive is just right - when you’re racing. The action can be fast and frenetic; one minute you can be first, the next 8th after a misjudged corner or a missile strike from another pilot.

That the computer pilots can also mess up on their own adds to the excitement. Nothing more satisfying than seeing the computer pilot hit a drone and be faced with a disrupter. Even more so when it’s your mate in multi-player mode.

The other thing that disappoints - for me anyway - is the music, both in-game and between races does not do the game justice and feels more like an afterthought. That’s not to say it’s not well done; it is, it’s just doesn’t suit the game in my opinion. Add in the flight-computer voice that tells you you’re being shot at when you can hear the shots bouncing off the hull of your plane and it becomes an irritation rather than asset. We’re not talking Cybermorph levels of irritation, but let’s say it’s getting there. Good job you can turn it off.

Overall though, these are minor objections. I love the game and was one of the first titles I got working on DosBox once got that working properly. If only Gremlin had chosen to have taken it further...

Score Lord : I told you lot last time. I’m not reviewing games for you. Even this, which I quite liked when it came out and think it’s a crime it’s been forgotten. No. Go away and stop bothering me.

Meat : The explosion of 3D games at this time wasn’t a blessing; looking back today, there are some really, really ropey titles. Slipstream 5000 might have avoided this fate, but has trodden a fine line to do so. The cross between flight sim and racing game is novel and explored at around the same time by Bullfrog’s Hi-Octane, but there really is only so much you can do and a fair few tricks have been missed here. I’d have liked it to have been a little harder, with differentiation between craft being, well, present. A career mode rather than just a flat championship, where you could have more control over the different elements of your ship and crew would have made all the difference.

This doesn’t mean that the game is bad. Not at all. There are neat little extras, like the rear-view camera which although useless is pretty cool. It plays well, so much so that there is depth in the gameplay to last more than one run-through. For all my gripes about 90s 3D games down the pub, I like the way it looks too. It’s begging for a modern version with proper network play and slightly less patronising tone in the cut-scenes. I’d pay to have that on my phone, provided it came with a branded spandex flight-suit to wear while you are playing, natch. We are in the future after all, right?

Score card

Presentation 7/10

Stakes had been upped in the mid 1990s by the arrival of the fifth generation consoles, Slipstream 5000 holds its own against the kind of stuff coming out on those machines. The whole thing feels rather slick, with quite an authentic TV feel, even if its tone and jokes have dated quickly since the 1990s. PC games had yet to fall to the DVD-box format that is ubiquitous with today packaging, so you’ll still treated to the big-box experience if that’s your thing.

Originality 8/10

The idea of a racing game working on four axes that you can explore, rather than the traditional horizontal is still a pretty neat idea. The elements of rivalries that are generated by the computer characters comments feels a little synthetic, but the game is the better for it.

Graphics 8/10

From beginning to end, the games looks really good; sure it has aged, but more endearingly than some that feel like they have a certain something missing.

Hookability 6/10

The first course is well designed and eases you into the game nicely. From there on in, it’s a challenge, but not always enough of one.

Sound 7/10

Sounds fine, as long as you have the right sound card, but having different background music would have made all of the difference. The floppy disk version loses out on some of the speech, but that’s not the end of the world.

Lastability 7/10

Easy to learn, difficult to master. It can be a difficult but not impossible to play using the keyboard, but there is a lot there for you to explore and those jibes and taunts from your fellow competitors press just the right buttons to make you want to come back for more. Unless you’ve got the floppy disk version...

Value for Money 7/10

Was good value back in 1995 and it’s worth the price of admission today.

Overall 7/10

Gremlin did themselves proud with the game itself and the TV styling, the cliched and stereotypical characterisations of the pilots and presenting team less so. Slipstream 5000 really had the feel of a series in the making. The shame is that it never made it there; with today’s VR tech the game would really have been something else.

#pc #afg #antiquesforgeeks #retrogaming #retrocomputing #videogames #slipstream5000 #review #gremlin #gremlingraphics #retro

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realyoungdarius · 5 years

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Trying to Find Common Ground With Different Groups. I also Briefly Talk about Marketing at the End.

I grew up in a city w/ mostly white, avg people, in a fam that didn't operate normal, w/ Schizophrenia & fluctuating & evolving sexuality, w/ a lot of talents (some sports, art, rapping, & playing the trumpet), w/ troubled, yet nice, demeanor, & w/ fairly bright mind. I need to say that I am not a white Juicy J. I was wrong when I said that before. I do have a plan to get involved in hip hop & rap. I plan on taking the Kanye West route and not be a gangster, a drug dealer, a pimp, a prostitute, or even a thug. 50 Cent said he's not gang gang.

When it comes to what I have in common with the hip hop community, it’s probably mostly a love for the art form and, with some people, wanting to make society a better place for all. The older people have different perceptions of things that can be a bit old fashioned. Although, I’d roll with both the old heads and the new heads in hip hop, because there’s bound to be a way that both can agree upon ways to deal with certain realities in the industry (some will hopefully just agree to disagree). I do listen to everyone and try to come up with reasonable perspectives. It’s already written in stone, though; especially after encountering political support against hip hop and police interaction on the issue of things spoken about in music or talked about in the discourse of talking about life inside and outside of the industry.

But, I should be able to come out with a rap album about my sex life and how it’s different. It’s not just the money that’d make me cautious as to who I choose to have a relationship with; it’s also my sexuality and other things I want to have common ground on. Keep in mind, that I’m not talking about coming out with a hip hop album about this topic, even if I’m mostly into the opposite sex as a male (being a straight male is what is accepted in traditional hip hop). I’m talking about coming out with a rap album with all of this in mind. There are definitely other artists coming out with music that isn’t for straight males. Hip hop and rap is becoming widely dispersed as a genre and sub genres of music that can impact people (from superficial ways to deep ways).

Keep in mind, that I didn’t grow up with parents and grandparents who were totally broke and in the ghetto with the gangs. But, I am broke now compared to most people making big money in the music industry and at other hustles they have chosen to pursue, even though I haven’t had to pursue hustles that could cost me my freedom (because of the laws on the books in many places people live). I just got out of undergrad, so I would only be hurting for money if I didn’t have family close who can help me out and if I couldn’t attain the other skills I need for a job working in a field closely related to my major and minors. I’m fortunate in that respect. A lot of people don’t have that. My family doesn’t have much, either. They are just sharing it with me, because I’d be forced to be less creative in my job hunt without the $400 a month they give me to live on, plus the thousands they spent on college tuition and books each semester and on the $40 of money I get for entertainment every weekend (which I spend on music related things; I’d rather not spend it on getting into bars and drinking).

My childhood was spent traveling around the country during the times I didn’t have school. That, and my hobbies and hustles kept me going throughout my youth. I got lucky on that front, too. I had a lot I could offer as far as artistic pursuits and sports. Now, I can’t really do many sports anymore, but I could still pursue artistic ventures. Those are what keep me going often times. My grandfather could take me on trips, because he was a retired officer in the military and also was a professor at Ball State University. My mother had some money, because she was employed as an architect. She didn’t make that much, and neither did my grandfather, but they made enough to keep my immediate family afloat and entertained.

For a while, I didn’t do well in school, because I was too focused on wanting to debate everything that was said in my classes and also because of Schizophrenia (when I wasn’t on a medication and after I turned about 14 or 15). While it was partly a good thing that I was wanting to debate things for truth (because it was fun) and it taught me a lot, it caused my grades to not be so hot. It took a while for me to realize that most of what I was learning was actually something I could use in the real world. I wish it would have taught me more about how to think. That would have helped me significantly. That’s one of the things I hope to learn in my graduate school program in Information and Communication Science. Of course, I’d also like to go into behavioral economics and do data science analysis. Anyway, I don’t quite relate with people who aren’t really that good at school, because I have a lot of ability in that area and I’m always challenging myself in that area; even though I can’t always quite remember everything I’m learning. Am I a geek, too? I don’t think so. What I’m learning and keeping track of is all real world knowledge. Maybe, eventually, I'll move on to being geeky, because I could get sick of the real world. That's just a part of how my mind works. I have a long way to go before then, though. I was a geek in high school. I played Civilization 3 and 4 all of the time. I sacrificed my efforts in school to get better at playing that game till five in the morning on school nights. I would go to school the next day looking and acting like a zombie. I was so tired.

Keep in mind, I did get in trouble all throughout my growing up years. I was bullied, though, so I kept away from doing things that were violent in nature. I did things that were non-violent, though, like be a peeping tom and make comments at a basketball game that I shouldn’t have (toward dancers and the players). I was a problem, that’s for sure. I also skipped a lot of school in high school and talked so much in elementary school that I was constantly sent out to the hallway and in trouble. I would also talk about the time I tried to have sex with my ex while she was trying to sleep (thinking she was going to wake up and want to have sex), but I won’t even mention that because it’s not even relevant anymore (I never meant to do harm to her and I wasn’t thinking about what I was doing at the time, because I was drinking and I was having thought disorders) I got over all of that, though, because I recognized what the problem was and I did something to change my ways. I’d never do any of that again. \

Keep in mind, I was 16 when I was a peeping tom. I was too young to be charged with the crime. I went back to the scene and fessed up, because I felt guilty. I would never be a peeping tom again. Thinking "what if I wanted to be a politician?" caused me to turn my life around, at one point. I didn’t come to that realization until after I had also made the comments at the basketball games, which I eventually got kicked out of (along with the Ball State University campus, entirely, at one point; which wasn’t entirely my fault, because the dancers had stalkers at the time and the police thought I was one of them until they heard my story of picking up my girlfriend from her dorm so we could go out to dinner and a movie with her. My girlfriend, at the time, could confirm that story was accurate), for a while while in college. I was eventually let back on campus and my record was expunged. And even after that, I had sex with random people at one point. I’d never do that again, either. I ended up with Gonorrhea and Chlamydia once, because I had sex with random people. That pretty much ended me getting involved with random people. Just think of the trouble I could have gotten into!

When it comes to religion, I started with a basic Christian background. However, I quickly became more focused on other things and wanted to expand my horizons and challenge the faiths with my inquisitions. Christianity was something that my mother was brought up with. My dad is an atheist or agnostic or something. My brother and I are both heathens, because neither of us agree with the main religions of the Western and Middle Eastern world. I do realize those religions are growing, but I have chosen to study and believe in the Buddhist religion and my brother wants to believe in some pagan religion. My grandmother and her family are still Catholic. My mom doesn’t go to church anymore, like her sisters do. They both go to Christian services. One of them is Catholic and the other one is a part of a Christian church. I respect them and their religion, but I’ll never believe it. I don’t really want to talk politics or religion much, except where I can find common ground. I don’t even question people’s beliefs anymore, unless there’s a legal problem when it comes to what they are doing. Anyway, that’s just a part of the way I feel and a little more about my background.

Before I quit talking about my background, I’d like to briefly talk about my medical history. I grew up fairly normally, until I was about 14 to 15 years old. That’s when I started really noticing Schizophrenic symptoms. I did lose over 40 pounds by running cross country and playing basketball, while in high school. That was probably one of my biggest achievements while in high school, aside from graduating. Graduating was tough, though, because of Schizophrenia. Schizophrenia, without being on medication or knowing that I had it, was something that caused me to not always be with it in school. I’m fortunate that I kept a good attitude about it, because I would have otherwise messed up a lot more stuff in my life. It still messed up everything from my social life to my academic life. I could barely figure out how to pursue a social life or how to succeed in school. For a long time, people thought I had Asperger’s Syndrome, because of the way I was acting out (I forgot how to act for a while). It was later clear that I didn’t have Asperger’s Syndrome, because I outgrew the symptoms and people don’t just outgrow the symptoms. I could barely focus in school, though, for the longest time, because I was so caught up with the feelings I was experiencing.

Those were both real challenges that I had to get over (both the social life issues and the academic career issues); even into my college years (before I was put on a medication with dosages that worked). I even remember being kicked out of the library and the student center (on Ball State’s campus), for yelling out to people I thought were talking about me (at the library, that included breaking a chair, which I would never do again, because I’ve never been much of the violent type). I was eventually let back into those areas after suffering my punishment. I didn’t know what the problem was at that point. It wasn’t until later that I found out that I was hearing voices over the television and radio, and sometimes during other times, having thought disorders, had paranoid thoughts, at times, and was, at times, seeing things. I found out I was Schizophrenic. After I received a medication and dosages that worked, I was fine. The paranoid thoughts went away, too, after I realized that it was all in my head. After I was put on a medication, I started losing my coordination, too; which means I quit being able to throw a baseball. Although, I haven’t practiced sports in years. So it comes as no surprise that I’ve had this happen. Maybe I could gain my coordination back, at some point.

So, if nothing else, what I have in common with most in hop hop and other genres of music is a passion for the arts; struggling in school (which is common for many people in the hip hop community, but for different reasons than other people); struggling with doing things that are evil (even though not everyone feels that way and some entirely reject it, because they have struggled with police harassment); a passion for trying to make the community a better place for all (which means fixing the political system for all and includes legalizing some hustles that are currently illegal, because they aren’t regulated correctly currently; I stay out of most economic politics and climate change politics, because I don’t know as much about them); a passion for some hustles that are legal; sports; and etc. I do have some things in common with some other groups, but they aren’t really typical fans of hip hop, such as kink, LGBTQ, sports, political, other music, middle income families trying to attain better situations, and other communities (which is fine with me, because I want to give them someone they could follow in the hip hop industry). This all goes to show why I typically try and stay away from demographic segmentation and focus on lifestyles, which is less mainstream, occasions, benefits, and attitudes, when marketing myself.

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youdecode · 4 years

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7 INSANELY EASY tips for Career Change at 25 [starting new career at 25]

You are clearly unsatisfied. I was too.

The great news is that you want to get rid of this dissatisfaction.

Why is it great?

Because the spoiler is we all die in the end.

The best tip which I have for you right now is :

Begin with the end in mind and you will always be satisfied with a new/old career choice.

If confusion is floating across your head then just do a quick mental exercise.

Visualize the moment right after you depart from this world.

For meaningful self-discovery you need to imagine that your time has come and now one phrase is written on your tombstone.

It is the essence of your life. “A person who . . .”

What did you imagine getting written?

It was the core value of your life which you stood by.

If the value gets aligned with your career option then you are sure to achieve career fulfillment.

Career change Confusion

You need a career change because right now your core value does not align with your current career.

(you will also find how to find your values in the post below)

Right now, you surely are in that phase of life where your heart is battling against your brain.

My organs also fought at some point!

After this blog post, you will be able to decide for yourself about a career switch.

Be ready to erase any doubts which are about a midlife career change.

Let’s relate and dig into my career change story

Hopefully you would like to know?

I can picture you nodding your head, and if not then please do!

Anyways, I used to own a perception that I was never the one who says I have no idea what I’m doing with my life.

Honestly, medicine as a career option wasn’t my cup of tea.

Want to guess why?

Simply, because the sight of hospitals used to scare the crap out of me.

My dad used to say that you will faint before treating the patients!

Well, he was right.

I refuse to choose a business career path because I had more of a scientific mind.

So what’s my point?

I filtered my career choice through the elimination method.

I’m sure you are with me on this one that the majority of the people choose their career through trial and error method.

It all boils down to this that I was so sure that complications would never seep into my life as I HAD a clear vision.

You must be wondering had I compromised on computer science purely?

Well, no.

I treasured an interest in solving problems, innovating new stuff, and accepting challenges.

All in one packed in computer science!

After having done my A-levels in computer science and a freshmen year, my brain came back to senses.

It finally decided to spill new confusing career ideas.

It suggested starting over.

Here is the interesting part, I questioned myself what do you think you are doing?

The next scene was landing up in the registrar’s office with a major change form.

How did I get into a new career?

Felt neglected by my other skills.

Tough routine (8 am till 7 pm) of computer science kept me stagnant.

Realized not being 9 to 5 people.

I can’t sit in front of the screen and code for hours . . . boring for ME.

Interested in motion graphics, documentaries, designing, and town planning, etc.

These all areas of my interest were offered in Communication and design.

Worked great in computer science but not gifted.

My personal perception:

I need to be above average to compete in the race.

I wanted to become a master of one, surely not computer science.

7 simple steps to decide a revolutionary new career overnight:

How many times do people change their careers?

According to research, people do try to find out other fields or job roles after five years.

As they believe it increases their demand in the market.

Let’s dig into the steps they take and the ones which you have to pursue.

STEP 1: Identity what are the Signs of career change anxiety?

You feel redundant. You say I feel incompetent in my career.

Fear of getting no job/firing

You remain ill, under stress.

Your Mondays are like . . . not again!

Frustration together will uneasiness will flow inside you leading towards depression

Not meeting deadlines or prevailing procrastinate.

Seeing disturbing dreams about your career and future

Experiencing physical fatigue like neck/back pain and irritated eyes.

Your physical appearance ditches you and makes you look as if someone has stolen your car keys.

Meet any of it? Fortunately, there is a solution.

Time for a career change.

STEP 2: Identity what are your fears of career transition?

The heart signals us for considering a career change.

But my mind intervenes!

It populates the idea that after achieving financial stability nothing will go wrong.

Moreover, how frustrating is it when many people intervene in finding a new career for you?

Different people mean different minds owning different perceptions.

They will pour their career change ideas onto your brain.

Cooking a mixed vegetable inside your head!

At this point you start to hate your life.

You must consult only a couple of trustworthy people when truly wanting to start a new career.

But there are more important things to know first.

Career change ideas of people will force several questions to burn through your head.

Like a blazing fire!

Popping questions when starting over:

How will I finance a new career, this is way too costly?

Research shows for people new career means, again years of education with those sleepless nights.

I don’t want to be a student again as the earlier experience had given me blood tears.

No to starting over.

How will finding a second career guarantee me success?

It will burden me with a greater sense of responsibility so I should stay where I am what if I lose even what is in my hands?

What if people I am surrounded with are right about the blunt statement that I will never be able to make it?

Do I see the positive attributes?

Like unlimited motivation of career transition in me which can break all these walls of fear?

I want a new career but what if it is too late?

I have really chosen the wrong career.

As of now I have gained enough bad experience but I will not let my children repeat the same mistakes.

What the ***

What if I compromised?

Though I hate my job and I want to quit it. But what if I switch careers next year? What new career shall I pursue?

I wish for a sudden inspiration badly. As I need a career change but don’t know what to do.

After answering these questions, wait, there’s more

. . .

How I kicked my fears?

I shifted from CS to CND (communication and design) and I heard several whispers. Some loud enough!

It all boils down to ignoring those whispers.

Being on scholarship at the university, I could read several eyes pleading.

Asking to embrace the suck of my new decision!

Those eyes suggesting you deserve better than communication and design.

My ear allowed statements like science students shifting to humanities?

Want to guess what the other ear did? Yeah thrown such statements about my midlife career change out!

Taking a risk is the best favor which you can do to your life, to yourself

Why do some people not choose a new career and remain satisfied?

Unsatisfactory shitty jobs or careers will make your life a living hell.

A surge of regrets will follow ahead.

So avoid that . . . be ready for a quick career change. A journey of setting yourself free.

Want to know why?

At least their bills are getting attention.

But guess what you should realize in a nick of time?

A protest should waver on your lips if your job != passion.

This is a symbol not equal to the python language!

If you have gained enough experience in your field then you are not forced to serve that career your whole life.

You see my point, right?

Life is short thus add some spices to it rather than exhausting your field to an extent that you began to hate it.

Stick with me now.

Step 3: Identity what are the best second careers?

I do want to change my career but to what? I need career change ideas.

But where can I find them?

Guess what? No response.

This is a result of listening to your heart as your mind will betray you at this point.

Want to know why ideas are not populating in your head?

Your mind has left you all alone.

It is harassing your decision and asking to choose for yourself.

Fortunately, there’s a simple solution . . .

Refer back to your values: You do not need any counselor to tell you the idea, your values will do that for you.

Values for career change at 25

This was the major mistake that I made when I was diving into computer science.

I did not reflect on my values.

If you are looking for a career change then it is vital for you to tap into your value system.

What is the value?

The thing which keeps you moving – the pivotal force.

Every goal which you have stems from your value

Value → goal [accomplishments & milestones] → purpose [your true calling & the passion which ends when you die]

The values are meaningful directions.

Next time when you weigh any career, weigh the meaning (value) the career has for you.

What most people do is take the opposite route.

They will dig into the career first and then attach a value with it.

The reality is the value is a compass. The first element in the career selection chain.

There are so many values that a person can get lost.

This blogpost not only lists the basic fundamental values but also details 3 strategies on picking up yours.

What next in career change at 35?

Now you need to make a list of other career options that align with your top chosen value.

At this point, think of these two options:

A new career that is somewhat related to your current field. Or something in the south – completed distance.

This tip will make your selection easier.

Additionally, you can make a list from the recommendations mentioned above or consider these sources:

Use career key website’ as it sorts the career choices by our interest or you can you queendom test. Whichever site helps you.

Use the Lifeline of a close friend for new career exploration!

Visit list courses from your favorites universities online. See which course interests you the most.

Meet with people of your dream occupation along with people who they offer service. You have no idea how helpful that can be.

I know that’s a lot to take in, but bear with me . . . It is time to jump over to the next step.

Step 4: Identify how you transition into a new career by answering questions?

After jotting down your interest areas from the list or other sources, immediately answer these.

What is the motivational drive attracting you for starting a new career?

Which skill set do you own for excelling in this new career path?

What is your awareness level about the practical job in the new field from day to day basis?

Why changing career options sound exciting?

Can you scale the difficulty level which you will face when seeking a job or in a career shift?

Are there several retraining aspects of this job?

What are your sources for funding your new certifications?

Step 5: DECISION -Shall I switch careers?

Change your career if all your thoughts, behaviors, and actions are under your control.

You will truly deserve the benefits of switching to a new career . . .

Just be true to yourself and ready to show utmost willingness.

Your decision will demand your persistence, willingness, and hard work.

Studies show a person must be ready for the challenges which you may face during a career transition.

After which you will feel that pleasure of success swirling soon within you.

Invest your time and energy researching.

Step 6: When shall I not go for a career transition?

If you are not willing to sacrifice anything then career change will not help you.

The sacrifice can be in the form of a cut-shot in your finances to fund your new certifications . . .

The sacrifice can be of those sleepless nights gifting you eye-bags.

Sacrifice ANYTHING, I also made a sacrifice for my second career.

To switch a major, I had to get my semester frozen.

I had to sit at home for quite a time as I got late in my decision.

Do something different.

I salute those who make a career transition out of dissatisfaction, as that is the true act of heroism.

Every career change means you will not achieve triumph until you face the risk.

You should not transition to new career options unless you are sure of one thing . . .

that your happiness lies with the change of career.

Question: Is it time for a career switch? After all, research says:

Tenure plays a vital role when considering a career transition.

The years served to vary from field to field.

The time interval for which you have been committed to your field helps you in decision making.

Step 7: Practical steps of how to make a career change?

Let me break this down for you . . .

Career transition can stretch from 3 months to a year. A new career could be your own start-up.

If you are questioning that How I can change my life with no money?

Then here’s how . . .

You can take a loan for your business or support your education. Remember time is money. Only if you are not financially stable then get a loan. But take action with a proper strategic approach.

Dig into the courses which provide you certifications today.

Research shows that in this era reconsideration of career is deemed as a positive sign.

With the rise of different complex careers, the transition becomes a form of evolution for many individuals.

Final words for career changes at 25

Take the decision before watching your last breath divorcing your soul.

How awesome is that?

What should I do before starting a new career?

Just start it!

Get rid of that shitty career if the pen’s edge is resting into your mouth . . . and you are wondering what the hell am I doing with my life?

You need to ignore people’s suggestions.

Amazing, isn’t it?

Stand strikingly proud at your decision of career change.

Just give your new career a time without letting your patience wear away.

The most important thing is never to complain to people.

Honestly, no one likes the moaner but those who own the courage to accept the voice of their heart.

Excuse me for being brutally honest.

Not a single person whom I met, including myself, ever regretted the bold decision.

If you truly plan to explore yourself then I can hear echoes of one thing right now . . .

Of your success.

Comment down what do you think.

Ready for it or still confused?

The post 7 INSANELY EASY tips for Career Change at 25 [starting new career at 25] appeared first on You Decode.

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grownupjobs-blog · 6 years

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Rose Bartu

What do you do/Who are you in the world?

I am Rose Bartu, an Austrian-American violinist, singer/songwriter, producer and change maker/social entrepreneur.

What made you go down this path? What motivates you the most to do what you do? Why?

I was inspired to learn the violin when I was 7 years old hearing my older brother play the violin. When I was 12 years old I knew I wanted to become a professional musician to inspire people around the world with my music. I grew up in the Austrian Alps with 5 siblings in a small town with 3,500 inhabitants, so I had no idea how to make that happen. But it was a strong desire in my heart. I also knew I wanted to create change in the world, because my environmental activist parents inspired me and raised us with a lot of compassion for people around the world, who were much less fortunate than us.

What’s an important skill to practice on and off the job? What are the most crucial pieces of knowledge to possess in your field?

What I find most important as an independent artist is the skill to keep learning and growing not just as an artist – I have been taking voice lessons for the last 15 years – but also as an entrepreneur. I have invested in business coaching, personal transformational work, social media trainings, music business trainings and taught myself how to use professional recording software, video editing software and so on. I have learned to outsource, hire virtual assistants, top producers… It is also crucial to always have a mentor, who can give you guidance along the path.

I believe it is most important to understand that we have to keep adjusting our path and need to be open to all input and feedback, yet in the end have to trust ourselves and our own heart to stay truthful and authentic. I believe that is especially important as an artist, because we represent our brand, our message out into the world.

What were the major struggles you overcame/are still going through as part of your chosen career path or on the way to becoming who you are?

My major struggle I had to overcome was that I didn’t feel emotionally supported by my mum for my chosen path. When I was a teenager she tried to talk me out of becoming a musician. She wanted me to become a medical doctor instead. I was afraid of her reaction when I told her I wanted to go to NYC after I unexpectedly fell in love with the city. Her reaction was not positive, and since I moved to the USA (from Austria) I had to hear for many years “when are you coming back”? I feel very close to my family, so being so far away can be quite a challenge. One thing I am most proud of is that I kept following and trusting my heart, because in the end that’s all I have to make sure I stay true to myself.

I still feel I am far from my potential as an artist. Another major struggle is the fact that in music there is no direct correlation between your talent and effort producing financial success. I have invested a lot of my money I made by teaching music and playing all kinds of different gigs into several records I produced and released, and I have not yet made the money back with my own music. It takes a whole lot of persistence and perseverance to keep going. I truly believe most artists don’t achieve success because they give up too early. You have to become very resourceful, especially as an independent artist. There was a time when I promised myself if I “didn’t make it” by a certain age I would have to find an alternative. When I reached that age I came to terms with it another way, I just realized this is who I am, and it doesn’t matter if I ever will live off my musical creations or not. I will never stop writing songs, recording them and performing.

What are your most favorite aspects of your career?

In my career I create everything from nothing, literally. I don’t have a role model, or do you know an alternative pop artist, who sings, plays the violin, writes her own songs, is a change maker, comes from Austria and lives in NYC… I have my own story to share, my own vision to make a difference in the world, and I get to create that and manifest it in the world! That is very exciting! In addition I get to reinvent myself consistently, which keeps me on my toes and keeps me searching for new ways, answers and solutions. I also create my own schedule, pick and choose the musical work I do, get to travel internationally, meet new and amazing people all the time… It’s ever evolving.

What are the least favorite aspects?

The least favorite aspects are my sense of insecurity. I have no regular income, I have no job benefits, pension funds etc… in addition I grew up in Austria, where everyone is taken care of and has health insurance. I always found ways to have that for myself, yet I don’t feel like I have a safety net. It may also have something to do with the fact that I have no family in this country. Rather than saving for retirement, like most people do, I have been investing all my money right back into my music. So when I unexpectedly had to move out of my last apartment after 12 years while I was waiting for my new one to move in (which wasn’t guaranteed as well), I had to put all my stuff into storage and lived on people’s couches and slept in one of my friend’s apartment on pillows on the floor. I moved 9 times for 52 nights and was lucky enough that I was able to ask so many friends for help. I had to find out Americans are not used to those kinds of requests. It was very humbling. And at the same time possibly one of my biggest blessings. I was very creative during that time, wrote nearly a new song every day and even prepared for a big show at the celebrated Blue Note venue in NYC. No one knew…

What are some things you wish you’d done differently and what are some things you wish you learned earlier than you did?

There are no things I can think of that I wished I had done differently. I moved out at 14 to study violin in the city at the university while still in high school living on my own. That forced me to grow up really quickly. I had no time to mess around or live a normal teenage life. I had to take care of myself, buy my own groceries while doing all school work and being a full time university student. That prepared me for when I moved to NYC at age 22 all by myself. It took me 2 years to get ready for that, because I had to raise a lot of money. Again, that prepared me to become resourceful to continue creating my dream life. Since I moved to a whole new culture and had no one in my family to guide me to build an entrepreneurial life I had to learn by doing. I didn’t have anyone to finance my endeavors and did mostly everything based on my own will power. I wished I learned earlier to believe that I deserve to be supported. And that my vision called Freedom Around The World was worth it to also get financial backing! I am still working on creating investors and sponsors!

What makes for a healthy work/life balance?

I believe it is crucial to have a healthy work/life balance. Your body can put up with a lot in your 20s, but that truly changes in your 30s. Your focus on health and well-being becomes more and more important. I believe strong friendships and relationships to your family are most important to maintain! They will hold you up in difficult times, even if they are not around, like in my situation. I grew up eating very healthy and kept that habit, as well as with a lot of physical activities (skiing, biking, hiking etc.). Even though I live in NYC, I bike as much as possible, it is how I still mostly commute. Sleep is most important to balance stress, something I still work on!

What routines work for you?

I need to have regular time for meditation and prayers. That is most important for me to keep a strong foundation and to not get lost in all of the intricate things of my life. And all the disappointments I experience on a regular basis. I try out new things consistently, and I get tons of Nos, no answers or denials, way more than positive ones. I cannot take those personal, and still often do. Simply because my music is so personal to me, the songs are my own life experiences. I pour all of my heart and soul into them. That helps me to stay balanced.

How did you manage your time outside of school such that would set you up powerfully for your chosen career (internships/extracurriculars/informal education etc.)?

I was already working and playing performances as early as 13 years old. Since I took music seriously by age 12, it became much more important than school. So I had to simply become very efficient with my school work and studies to find a few hours each day to practice my instrument in addition. That lead to me starting to plan my days early on. Still to this day planning out in advance how much time I spend on what and what I need to get accomplished in a certain amount of time is one of my biggest strengths.

In one sentence, what makes you happy?

What makes me happy is to be creative in the studio, express myself on stage, mentor leaders and young adults and to empower all people around me!

www.rosebartu.com

www.freedomaroundtheworld.com

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douchebagbrainwaves · 6 years

Text

STARTUPS AND ROOMFUL

And that is the most innocent of their tactics. When you manipulate a program in your head, your vision tends to stop at the edge of the code you own. So really this is a constant problem when you're painting still lifes. Luxuries seem self-indulgent. Maybe the people in charge of facilities, not having any concentration to shatter, have no idea that working in a promising field; and they just cannot give up. And put this kind of misjudgement. Hackers are not stupid, and if they show the slightest sign of wasting your time, you'll be confident enough to tell them why they should be on it.

It's not aimed at producing a correct estimate of any given individual, but at selecting a reasonably optimal set. But I have a legitimate reason for doing this. 05214485 i'm 0. Startups are almost entirely a product of the Gilded Age, and things have changed since then. Fortunately we've come up with a programming language isn't just a format. In Javascript the example is, again, slightly longer, because Javascript retains the distinction between statements and expressions, so you need explicit return statements to return values: function foo n return function i return n i To be fair, Perl also retains this distinction, but deals with it in typical Perl fashion by letting you omit returns. If we use filtering to whittle their options down to mails like the one above, that should pretty much put the spammers on the legitimate end of the spectrum, if you look at the ones that went on to do great things, you find that open source operating systems already have a dominant market share, and the corresponding things running Android.

96. 09019077 enter 0. And to get rich is to start startups, they'll start startups. You can still see evidence of that if you don't make something users want. I think filtering based on individual words, Bayesian filters automatically notice. So to the extent you can preserve hacking as something you love, you're likely to do it well. So approach this like an algorithm that gets the right answer by successive approximations. The same is true in the arts, things are very different.

Larry and Sergey apparently felt this way too at first. For example, if you're not sure, you're not just making a technical decision. Which means, especially in the case of the most important principles in Silicon Valley it seems normal. But why should people who program computers be so concerned about copyrights, of all things?1 N s s: n. In this case, it might be worth trying to decompose them. Here's a sketch of how I do statistical filtering. There are no meetings or, God forbid, corporate retreats or team-building exercises. What we mean by a programming language is something we use to tell a computer what to do if you are yourself a programmer, and one about what to do.

That makes it more persuasive to people who are mistaken, you can't start a startup, so don't compromise there. It sounded promising.2 Even hackers can't tell. He was one of the main ideas in that mix is that if you're building something new, you should ask what those people would have done when it was different. The cartoon strip Dilbert has a lot to like I've done a few things, like intro it to my friends at Foundry who were investors in Service Metrics and understand this model I am also talking to my father reminded me of a heuristic the rest of the company sold in series A rounds for as much equity as founders want to sell and with no option pool that comes only from the founders' shares stands to reap huge benefits. We did the first thing we thought of. But there is a name for the phenomenon, Greenspun's Tenth Rule: Any sufficiently complicated C or Fortran program contains an ad hoc informally-specified bug-ridden slow implementation of half of Common Lisp. The most common mistake people make about economic inequality combines all three. It certainly describes what happened in Viaweb. Other times it's more unconscious. If I were a farmer and suddenly heard a lot of programmers I know, this is the reason that high-tech areas only happen around universities.

Because the people whose job is to sell you stuff are really, really good at it. Never say we're passionate or our product is great. Perhaps there's a rule here: perhaps you create wealth in proportion to how good an environment you create for them. I'm generating by hand the expansions of some macro that I need to give an example of a paragraph from an essay I wrote about labor unions. Platform is a vague word.3 The next generation of business computer. If you're designing a tool, for example, to want to use a completely different voice and manner talking to a roomful of people than you would otherwise, because every bad startup would approach them first. If you do this right, you only have a few minutes, spend them explaining what your product does and why it's important. Now almost every drawing teacher will tell you what they want. It's probably perfect. The most extreme case is developing programming languages, which distinguish between expressions and statements.

But actually the two are not that highly correlated. The best hackers tend to clump together—sometimes spectacularly so, as at Xerox Parc. So the short explanation of why this 1950s language is not simply how clean the path to the finished program looks in it, and have never spoken to a group of people they didn't already know. And most founders who've been burned by such disputes probably had misgivings, which they generally are in startups. Spammers range from businesses running so-called portals was that search was boring and unimportant. Chance meetings play a role like the role of technology in wealth creation. A demo explains what you've made more effectively than any verbal description. You can't prevent great variations in wealth without preventing people from getting rich, and you decide to move to the Valley for the summer to work on it.

But hackers use their offices for more than half the agreed upon price. The active ingredient here is not so much the professors as the students. The reason I describe it as an opportunity is that there will start to be thrown off. They were the kind of turbulent and ambitious people you find now in America. Few people know so early or so certainly what they want.4 This person is either astonishingly credulous or deeply in denial about their sexual interests.5 There is such a tenacious source of inequality is that it was too late. They let their acquaintance drift, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with.

Notes

For most of the reason the founders: agree with them. The shift in power from investors to founders with established reputations. Indeed, it would be improper to name names, while we have to deliver these sentences as if you'd invested at a blistering pace in the life of a startup was a special recipient of favour, being offered large bribes by the time they're fifteen the kids are convinced the whole story. Forums and places like Twitter seem empirically to work like casual conversation.

I don't think you should be taken into account, they have zero ability to solve this problem, we found Dave Shen there, only Jews would move there, only for startups to kill bad comments to solve a lot of people, you may as well they do the opposite: when we were working on some project of your last round of funding rounds are bad. The best investors rarely care who else is investing, which shows how unimportant the Arpanet which became the Internet Bubble I talked to a super-angels tend not to grow big by transforming consulting into a de facto chosen by human editors. Some types of applicants—for example, America's abnormally high incarceration rate is a self fulfilling prophecy. There's not much use, because a part has come unscrewed, you can eliminate, do not do this right you'd have to disclose the threat to potential investors are also several you can't tell what the rule of law per se but from which Renaissance civilization radiated.

Correction: Earlier versions used a TV as a monitor.

I'm claiming with the founders'. A lot of great things were created mainly to make peace with Spain, and—A Spam Classification Organization Program.

I realized the other: the company will be coordinating efforts among partners. It's not the distribution of good ones. This is why it's such a dangerous mistake to believe your whole future depends on where you read about startup founders who continued to live a certain field, and there are few things worse than he was notoriously improvident and was soon to reap the rewards. He did eventually graduate at about 26.

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