Everything Is Gonna Be Fine - File 003

Date: 3/5/215

Incoming signal:  Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? Is there anyone in the wasteland listening to me? Fuck, this is hopeless...  We don’t even know if people are alive out there, we’ve never left the region because of the horror stories we’ve heard. CeeCee are you sure? ...Yeah, right. Ahem! I’m Nate, I’m from the Eastern OQ region, and for the last ten years I’ve been fighting in, well to put it lightly, a pretty nasty civil war. The group I was with has been mostly killed or captured and our leader is missing, presumed dead. Please, if someone is out there and can hear this, we need supplies. Wait what’s- Shit! CeeCee get down they found-

Outgoing message: Nous vous entendons. Sur routre chemin.

__________________________

Date: 28/4/215

Location: Wasteland

   Kenji had been out in the wasteland for three weeks now. After he had finished reading that repulsive public broadcast, he had stolen some gear and had gone over the wall. It was... Scary. He hated admitting it, he thought it made him look like a child watching a spooky film. But what else was he supposed to feel in that moment? He had grown up with stories about the radioactive monsters that lived in the wasteland beyond the wall. When someone died of The Sickness, their body was thrown over the wall so as not to contaminate anywhere else. That was what the wasteland had always been; radiation, horror stories and disease. That was the only reason he had never run, never jumped the wall and escaped the horrors of living as one of Toronto’s lower class citizens. When Jesse had appeared from the west, it marked something new, something interesting. Jesse was proof you could be in the wasteland and survive. Now obviously, Jesse had had state of the art anti-rad equipment and survival gear, and he had been driven or flown most of the way, only having to walk for the last 400 or so kilometres. But still. “Only 400 kilometres” was still 400 kilometres, it was only small compared to the 4000+ kilometre journey from the Yukon-BC Region to the Ontario-Quebec Region. 

   Kenji was not a survival expert like Jesse, and he didn’t have state of the art anything, (popular to contrary belief, having a state of the art “resting bitch face” didn’t count) but he wanted to try. After all, he couldn’t stay in OQ. The rich hated him for being the rebel leader, and the poor would no doubt turn on him now that the rebellion was effectively crushed and the elites would start cracking the proverbial whip on their literal asses. Where could he go but the wasteland?

   It was frustrating, to say the least. Kenji had always prided himself on his perceptiveness and spacial awareness. He recognized landmarks better than anyone he knew, and he could navigate the streets of every city in the region with ease. He had even memorized the streets of the ruins of old Toronto, back when it was nearer to the lakes, and that area hadn't been inhabitable since the end of the war. But out here in the wasteland, everything was new, and the goggles he had to wear to protect his eyes were so broken and filthy that he could barely see. He assumed that he had just been wandering in circles for weeks, and honestly wanted to keep it that way until he could get better gear. The unfortunate truth, however, was that might never happen. He was stuck out here.

__________________________

Date: 1/5/215

Location: Wasteland

   As Kenji started to come around, he could hear voices. He closed his eyes and groaned in pain, covering his eyes with his hand. Fuck, he was in so much pain. His head...

   "Where am I..." he muttered. The voices around him got closer.

   "Tu te réveilles maintenant?" one asked. Kenji blinked, trying to focus on something in his surroundings.

   "My head..." he moaned, turning over. The voice sighed and turned away to babble to its companions.

   "Il ne parle pas français. Non."  Wait... Were they speaking French? Fuck... Of all the places to end up, of course it was here. 

   The French person snapped their fingers at him, making him focus back up at them. They had long, dark brown hair and thin, distinguished features. They seemed female, but also just androgynous enough to make him unsure. He had also been told that he shouldn’t assume these types of things.

   “Me comprenez-vous? Comprenez-vous ce que je dis?” they asked him. Kenji knew just enough about the French language from Lewis that he almost understood what the person was saying. Almost.

   “No. Fuck off.” he spat. The person seemed to understand that phrase, and they roughly pulled him to his feet. He stumbled, a wave of nausea passing over him. Life his head was killing him.

   “Parler.” they snapped, jerking him forwards. Kenji snarled defensively. He knew talking to them was going to be useless, so he didn’t bother. Instead, he did the only other logical thing; Muster up all his remaining strength and punch the person in the face.

__________________________

   Kenji was thrown out, but thankfully they didn’t knock him out again. He remembered what was going on now. He had been looking for food, shelter, etc, and had briefly taken off his goggles. He had found a shielded area in the ruins of some old house, safe from the wind. He assumed he would be safe here from the wind blowing anything into his face. As he was crouched behind the wall, cleaning his goggles, someone had come up behind him and ambushed him. Typical. Of course he would find the only shred of remaining human life out here and they would be hostile. He couldn’t blame them, really. It was just annoying.

   What was even more annoying was the fact that he was currently tied to the trunk of a very large tree, unable to move and incapable of fending for himself. His head gear was still off, seeing as his francophone captors hadn’t been kind enough to bring his goggles with them when they tried to crack his head open. He was, figuratively speaking, completely fucked. 

   Footsteps sounded from somewhere nearby. Kenji groaned.

   “Back for round two, assholes?” he snapped.  “Or are you some huge, lumbering, mutant beast come to eat me and use my ribs as toothpicks? Either way, bon apetite you piece of shit, waste of space, rancid, ugly, motherfucking-”

   “Kenji?” 

   That took him off guard. That was Lewis’ voice, wasn’t it? The radiation had gotten to his brain, he was sure of it.

   “No, it’s Carson fucking Pryce.” he muttered sarcastically.  “Just kill me already, put me out of my misery.”

   The thing making the footsteps came around the corner and into Kenji’s field of view.

   “Holy shit! Kenji! You cantankerous old bitch, what the fuck are you doing out here?” Lewis exclaimed, rushing over to free him of his bonds.

   “Getting the best blowjob of my life. What does it look like?”  Lewis stopped.

   “I didn’t think it was physically possible for your personality to get worse. You are full of surprises.” he muttered.

   Kenji was positive he was hallucinating, either due to the concussion the French fuckers had undoubtedly given him or the radiation, and so he wasn’t taking anything seriously. 

   “I doubt that I could surprise you.” he said snarkily as Lewis tugged at the ropes tying him to the tree. Lewis squinted.

   “Sure.” he muttered, finally undoing the knots and setting him free. Kenji didn’t stand up.  “Hey, you gonna get up?”

   “This is a hallucination, I can’t go anywhere.”  Lewis groaned and put his face in his hands.

   “Oh so you’re stupid now? That’s it you’re stupid now? Fuck me.”  Kenji scrunched up his face indignantly.

   “Prove me wrong.” he snapped.

   Lewis exhaled sharply and kicked the older man in the shin.

   “Ow!”

   “There’s your proof, you belligerent geriatric.”  Kenji grunted and begrudgingly accepted that he was stuck in a radioactive French wasteland with the most obnoxious child in the world. Life, he wished it was a hallucination. He stood up.

   “How are you not dead?” he questioned skeptically.

   “I am dead. I’m a spooky ghost here to haunt you for your sins. Ooooh.” the young boy responded sarcastically, waving his hands in front of his face. Kenji elbowed him in the shoulder sharply. 

   “I’m serious. You were in one of the explosions on the west side, nobody else survived. We took out a fucking city block, for world’s sake, people don’t just come out of that a-fucking-okay.” he pressed the younger individual. He hesitated. Did he really want to tell the next part?  “I... Nate blamed me, he refused to talk to me for months.”  

   Lewis’ expression changed, becoming remorseful and tired.

   “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t come back. The soldiers tossed me over the wall with all the other bodies, I was more dead than alive honestly. But somehow I didn’t die, and some wastelanders picked me up. I’ve been too injured to go anywhere, I only recently got strong enough to walk around.” he said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead.  “What happened to you to get you tossed out?”  Kenji’s stomach twisted.

   “None of your damn business.” he hissed, starting to walk away.

   “Hey! You can’t just walk away from this!” Lewis shouted after him. Kenji ignored him. He needed to go back to that abandoned house and find his gear.  “So what, you’re gonna abandon your friends? Let them fight for you while you sulk and pity yourself from the safety of-”

   “They aren’t my fucking friends anymore and there won’t be any fighting!” Kenji shouted, whipping his head around to face him.  “You want to know why I’m here? I fucked up. I fucked up our chance to finally beat the elite bastards once and for all and I jumped the wall so I wouldn’t have to face what I did.”

   Lewis was shocked for a few moments before his face darkened in anger.

   “You’re a coward!” he snapped. Kenji laughed, turning away once more.

   “I know.”

__________________________

tag list: @thereasontherumisgone @germanmetal

//author’s note: I do not speak french! sometimes I forget what “bonjour” means. I am so sorry if these halfassed translations suck, I tried to stick to simple phrases that would be easy to translate but I don’t know how accurate they are. I’ll try to not write for the french characters too much.

Well, we went back to GODZone like the gluttons we are.

  We had bright eyed and bushy tailed Jackson to complete our team this year and after our concerns that he was going to wreck himself by running 250km around New Zealand before we got there faded (how he does what he does and doesn’t drink coffee is beyond me). We settled in for a couple days of peace and action movie watching before the race (Die Hard 4 2007, All is Lost 2013, Hannibal 2001, Interstellar 2014, Black Hawk Down 2001, … ). We are equally intense with our movie watching as we are with our endurance sports. 

Sunday leg 1: multisport prologue ft. coasteering

The race was a little different this year, well, a LOT different, but day one was the Prologue race, which wasn’t really my cup of tea (not long and suffery enough) but still lots of fun. We set off coasteering around the Akaroa headland with a few swims, then a short sufferfest mountain biking up and over a big hill where Tom bribed me with lollies by literally dangling them in front of me to make me go up the hill faster (it worked).  Then there was a packraft across the lake to the final leg at the Christchurch Adventure Park where we ran into Craig, a fellow Canberran out for a Rogaine. Small world! We got to the end and had a 30 minute mandatory wait for our maps so we set up the tent, changed into warm things and went to suss food options.

Monday leg 2: packraft/trek/caving

After a less than ideal sleep because of excitement, our alarm went off at 1am to pack up and at 1:40am we hopped on the bus to take us 2 hours away to the start of Leg 2 – the 73 km Trek/Packraft and Caving. As with a lot of the teams around us, the first CP was pretty difficult to hit with 1:50,000 maps and a bit of complacency but after bush bashing for a little while and then reconnecting with the surrounding teams, we finally hit the CP and headed off to Binser Saddle, a roughly 700 metre vertical elevation gain and the first and only climb in this leg. It was at this point we got “stuck” behind a few slower teams (which I didn’t mind at all) as the trail was quite narrow. After some teams stopped for rests and poo’s we managed to get ahead of the slower guys and descend towards the river.

I was going to say that there wasn’t much to report after that but actually after paddling for an hour or so I noticed two safety guys on the other side of the river and saw we were approaching the first (and only) rapid. It was all looking fine until Paul and I hit a rock right at the top and I went flying out of the packraft –  headfirst. The current was pretty strong and after knocking my knees on a few rocks I was finally able to orientate myself so my feet were going down the river first (thank you swift water rescue training!). It was at this stage I realised I had dropped my paddle and saw it floating just ahead of me, so after grabbing it I swam into an eddy, gave the “I’m okay” signal to the safety guys. (Although I was a bit shaky I have to say!) It was at this point I realised that I had only grabbed half my paddle and it wasn’t until Paul pulled up with the packraft and the other half that I realised it had snapped. Shit. We pulled up on the other side of the river where Tom and Jackson were waiting and thought about our options. Of course we hadn’t packed a spare paddle either. We ended up making a mini paddle with the one good bit of shaft and wondered if maybe we could borrow a spare paddle from one of the other teams at transition. Paul ended up using the mini paddle which hilariously made him look like more of a giant.

After that it was smooth sailing until Tom and Jackson hit an eddy line in their bathtub (aka waterlogged packraft) and tipped out. They got back in and all was well until Tom realised that he’d dropped the map… and that we hadn’t brought the spare. Cue our saviours, the super lovely and wonderful all girls team #39 – On The Rag. They’d passed us when we were discussing the broken paddle and as we caught up to them told Paul and I that we could borrow their spare paddle. Legends! Capitalising on their generosity, I then pushed my luck and told them that the boys had actually just lost our only map and if they had a spare we would be eternally grateful. They said they would have to speak to their teammates (the two Holly’s) and confirm and when we caught up to Tom and Jackson, map in hand, they had said that they would like payment in beer, which the boys were totally on board with.

As it got dark we reached the caving section and having flashbacks to last year, we weren’t super stoked. Until we got in there. Wow. Paul is claiming it is the best cave he’s ever been in. Instead of the slippery walls we were expecting, they were perfectly grippy. So all of us had fun trying to avoid the water to practice our climbing moves. After that it was a longer walk than expected to the TA where we got on our bikes and started Leg 3, the 160km mountain bike called Cookie Time for definitely no other reason other than to be very misleading as no delicious cookie times ever appeared (whoops we already ate them on leg 1, also there was a tin shed called Cookie’s Hut).

Tuesday leg 3: Cookie Time massive MTB

This was a pretty cool leg I have to say. We hadn’t slept since night one (if you can call it a sleep) so we after making it through the night with a team NoDoz break we rode through the mountains to a great piece of technical single track near a hut. From there we rode over rocky river beds (much to Jackson’s displeasure) to what we are calling Poor Man’s Percy’s Pass. Between this race and last, I’d managed to forget how to carry my bike on my back and so I watched the boys power up the scrambly bit of the hike-a-bike as I dragged, pulled and panted my way sloooowly up the climb. I may have had a hissy fit half way up and tried to send telepathic signals to any of the boys to come rescue me, but ultimately I knew that they were going to let me experience (aka suffer) it by myself. I knew that although I was suffering, I’d be disappointed if I had help (something I’m grateful my teammates understand). Besides, getting to the top felt amazing and I was only a little jealous that they had had time to take their shoes off and bask in the sunlight.

There were a few major climbs to get out after that but the views were just so stunning, it didn’t matter that I couldn’t put enough oxygen into my lungs. And soon enough we were descending into the flatlands where we time trialed on the backstreets and road until we got to a cafe! What a delectable sight! We smashed both a giant thick shake and coffee which was good timing as after we got back onto our bikes, it was a longer ride than expected to the next TA.  5 Kilometres feels like forever when your feet are absolutely aching.

Tues/Weds/Thurs leg 4: 85 km Trek lakes + mountains.

In the words of the organisers –

“This stage is BIG! At 85 km it is the longest single stage trek ever at a GODZone Chapter.”

The second half sure felt like it but the first half was going to be a challenge too. Luckily we started off with a bit of daylight still on our side. Once again the tricksy 1:50,000 maps left the boys a bit confused as the contour lines were saying one thing, but the hills were saying another. We managed to bag CP 15 with limited problems as the sun set over the mountain range and made our way up to Mystic Lake to get a few hours sleep before the pre-dawn trail trudge over to the hut for CP16.

From here, there were a lot of route choices to get to CP 17 and none of them looked great. We decided the best route was to climb up a 2000 metre mountain. The climb up was definitely one of my highlights. Just as you thought you were at the top, another ridge would appear and eventually we got to the top of the ridgeline where we were weaving along pretty precarious rocks. We had to put our poles away at this stage to utilise all climbing limbs. We could and possibly should have continued on the ridgeline but decided to descend early as Paul thought it might be a bit dangerous, and if Paul thinks something is dangerous, it probably is. 

The views were incredible and the promise of scree running to get down made us all pretty excited (especially Jackson). The problem with scree covered mountains though is what looks like scree at lake level was actually bigger slightly loose rocks that we had to navigate without twisting an ankle. The descent started off pretty fun but soon felt longer and longer as my knees started to protest.

After following steep fence line put up by some insane farmer we eventually (after some butt sliding) got down to the CP17 and were relieved when we realised there was a track all the way from the CP to the road. A road which kept going for what seemed like forever. I’m going to be honest, this part sucked and I was in a pretty dark space knowing we weren’t even really half way. Tom had said at the beginning to think of the leg like 3 big challenges and we were only at the end of the first.

We finally got to the campground where we were told that we might have a course change due to the weather. Basically, the fastest teams were doing the second half of the trek in 17 hours which meant that even if we had gone the same speed as them (highly unlikely), we would miss the cut off for the packraft and that would suck. So we set up camp and waited for the race director to come back with some news. Meanwhile, a lovely lady (Fizz) came out of her campervan and offered us drinks, fresh pineapple and an assortment of snacks  (that were actually for the team she was waiting for) AND hot water for our back countries. It was luxurious.

News finally came that they were printing maps for us to do a lower traverse, missing CP 18 and 19, that would cut out the possibility of being stuck on top of a mountain in bad weather. There was a 2 hour wait, so we scoffed more food and had a nap. Team Tiger had also come in and were waiting. After handing our maps over Warren dangled a delicious butter chicken in front of us and placed it ever so carefully down between us and Tiger claiming that he was no longer in need of food. We looked at Tiger and down at the curry and back up at Tiger. They hadn’t moved. This was our moment. Tom, Jackson, Paul and I pulled out our spoons simultaneously and pounced on the free delicious (and still warm) curry. Spooning larger than needed portions into our mouths like the heathens we are, we stopped mid-mouthful to ask Tiger if they would like any. The look of disgust on the Frenchies faces said it all. We had claimed it. It was ours. All ours.

After that, we started our march around the lake towards the traverse. We ran into Team 1 coming back from getting CP18 and gave them the news of the new course change. They looked at the map in defeat and told us that it would take forever to finish. The full of food optimists we were at that point told him that it wasn’t going too bad.

How wrong we were.

It started out innocently enough until we found ourselves crawling on hands and knees through matagouri, the spikiest and shittiest plant known to man. (Also used by Maoris as tattooing needles). The worst part was finding a spot to semi stand up and then looking across and realising we were in a sea of it with no way out. The possibility of pulling out our bivvys and dying camping seemed more appealing than pushing through. It was at this point Paul thought if we died here they’d never find our bodies.

We somehow made it through the matagouri but found ourselves cliffed out when the map had no mention of cliffs at all. Our timing was blowing out fast and we decided to make one final push to hit the river and continue to the TA via the fire road which was out of bounds. Turns out Tiger had also gotten stuck and decided that this was the far better option too, so we walked into the dawn with them down the never-ending fire road and stupid cows to TA4.

It was here that our race nearly ended. After 42 hours on the trek leg we were all hurting and thought that because of our route choice we would be disqualified. We decided that although we did want to do the packraft, we would pull out after that and so put a couple of our backpacks in crates we wouldn’t see till after the bike leg (if we got there). I had most certainly checked out of racing and was starting to think of getting back home for a shower.

Thursday leg 5: Rakaia packrafting

We arrived at TA 4 around 11 am, which meant we had until the 2pm cut off to faff around and gather our thoughts. It was decided that we’d just do a few hours on the river, set up camp early, have a good rest and then continue on the next day and pull out of the race. Except that when we got on the Rakaia river it was only 6 hours to the kayak. And 6 hours compared to 42 is nothing. So naturally we did the whole packraft. At this point I was still pretty checked out of the race, was still okay to do the kayak (it was only another 6 hours so why not?) but not really keen on the bike ride after that, plus we had gotten rid of our packs, the race was basically over. But there was a mandatory dark zone before the kayak so we set up camp again, had a few back countries and went to sleep.

Friday leg 6+7: Rakaia kayak + MTB commute

It is amazing what some sleep and food can do. The next morning I woke up to a coffee a la Jetboil, news that we weren’t actually disqualified and an inkling that we were probably going to keep racing.  We carried our kayaks the what seemed like a hugely long way to the put in. I was pretty nervous for this bit because there were a few rapids and we were in double Kayaks, but Tom was great at stabilising the couple of near tips we had. We passed Team Tiger, who had managed to smash one of their Kayaks against the rocks and were waiting for a new one and once we got out of the gorge, everything calmed down and we got into a rhythm of picking left or right on the braids of the river. We only got stuck on rocks a couple of times and one of those times was probably karma for me calling Jackson and Paul the fat boat.

After salami sausages for lunch (the height of delicious race food) we were back in race mode, much less racey than we were before the trek, but we had the finish line in our sights.

To our surprise, Sandra and Gab were there to meet us at the TA. It was lovely to have our own spectators and was a great mood booster (along with the huge bag of biscuits).

So we set off at a relatively steady pace, until one of the Kiwi teams came charging past and we all hopped on for the ride. It was nice to work with another team while Paul and their strongest rider took turns at the front. Eventually, we picked up a third team and we hauled ass all the way to the bottom of the climb.

Through a look of bewilderment, one of the kiwi’s said he’d never ridden that fast before and that we were very good mountain bikers. I have to say, we may be good mountain bikers but the Kiwis are killer trekkers. My theory is that all Kiwi adventure racers had mothers who climbed to the top of mountains, gave birth and left them there to find their way home. That’s why they’re so good. We’ve all got our strengths though. Speaking of, I had asked if Paul could bring the leash for this bike leg and as we approached the climb, I grabbed it with glee and hung on for dear life as Paul went into beast mode and hauled us up the 750 metre elevation gain to the top of the mountain. Drenched in sweat, we waited for the boys at the top and put our Supersonic Jackets on to descend into the night and last TA for the race!

Saturday leg 8: harbour packraft home

We were welcomed with pies and sleep as there was another mandatory dark zone, and there were so many teams the atmosphere was buzzing. In the morning we were told our start wave and after a minute silence for the absolutely terrible tragedy in Christchurch we set off for the 17 km paddle to the finish.

It was all looking so promising until the wind picked up and our victory lap cruise turned into fighting a heinous headwind for the last 10kms. But we got there and crossed the line in about 20th, finishing the full course in 6 days with no foot infections, blister-free feet, still talking to each other with no talk of retirement. I think that’s a team win!

Thanks to Mont for Sponsoring us again this year and providing the perfect (and matchy matchy) green Supersonic Jackets and Long Sleeve Running tops for the race. They all looked brand new even after 6 days of racing! Some of our gear highlights:

Mont Moondog jacket – primaloft mid layer, perfect for sleeping and stays warm when damp

Mont Moondance EX 2-3 person tent – ideal for 4 smelly adventure racers

Mont Contour/Sentinel 35/45L packs – tough for bush bashing and expandable from small compulsory loads to larger packrafting loads

Mont Supersonic jackets – bombproof hardshell with adjustable zips for multiple storage/ventilation options

Mont Run Power Dry L/S Zip Tee – we may or may not have worn a single shirt each for the entire race – functional AND compulsory, ticks all the boxes

Mont Prolite sleeping bags – lightweight and optimised with one-sided down to maximise the warmth:weight ratio

Mont Adventure Light hiking pants – there was some debate about shorts vs pants before the race but in hindsight… always go pants when matagouri is around! Solid coverage even if you forget your gaiters.

La Sportiva Helios was the paddle shoe of choice for rock hopping and lightning fast drainage.

Jetboil – churning out the back countries and coffee sachets

Enormous bikepacking style saddle bags on the bike legs – various brands – this was a good race for hardtails and ditching backpacks where possible.

Antihistamine tablets – when you forget prevention for sandfly bites… treat the symptom not the cause!

Sharkskins – comfier and less restrictive than wetsuits (but still warm) for the paddling

Underwear underneath your bike knicks… TBC boys!!! (Only Paul does this.)

  GODZone Chapter 8 – Akaroa Well, we went back to GODZone like the gluttons we are. We had bright eyed and bushy tailed Jackson to complete our team this year and after our concerns that he was going to wreck himself by running 250km around New Zealand before we got there faded (how he does what he does and doesn't drink coffee is beyond me).

Phil’s Birthday 2010

I wrote a fic to celebrate Phil’s birthday! I wanted to do fetus Phan because that is literally my favourite thing ever. If you like it, let me know and I might publish more. I do know that during the time period where Dan was at Phil’s in this fic, he was actually in India, but I moved the dates so it flowed better. Also look forward to a Valentine’s Day fluff if you know, you want to read that. .

WORD COUNT: 2073

“I’m sorry I can’t be there with you on your birthday, Phil. I didn’t even want to come to India with my family; they made me come with them.” Phil gave him a small smile. “It’s ok Dan. Don’t worry about it. And it’s not my birthday yet, it’s only 11:40. And I honestly don’t think you would like the north of England, its really cold here. I hope it snows. That would be the best birthday present ever!” Dan watched as his boyfriend, (who he still couldn’t believe was his boyfriend) hug the Totoro that he had given him last Christmas, and babble excitedly about the North of England. “Are you forgetting the time I stayed at your house last October? Or the week we spent together later on? I have been up to the north before Phil.” He said with a small laugh. “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.” “If it was so forgettable, I should come and visit again, and make it memorable for you.” Dan replied, smirking. Phil blushed. “Shut up.” He said in the fondest, softest voice possible, his cheeks slightly pink. His hair was messy and his blue eyes shone brightly, contrasting with his pink cheeks through his new glasses. Dan couldn’t believe that this boy was all his. “You know you love it.” Phil blushed harder and smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

Dan loved everything about Phil. His northern accent, the way he looked in glasses, his gorgeous body in jeans and a tight t shirt. Everything about Phil was incredible and he couldn’t get enough.

They were both quiet for a minute. “Speaking of which, my parents are pressuring me into choosing a university and a course to study.” Dan sighed. “Our deal was I could take a gap year but only if I go to uni. And I have to apply pretty soon, but I don’t know what I want to study.” “Do you know which university you want to go to?”  Phil asked. Dan nodded. “Kind of. I have been thinking about Manchester.” Phil was quiet, thinking about what Dan had said. “You’re not just saying that because I live near Manchester, are you? Because I would rather you go and study in New Zealand if you really wanted, instead of choosing Manchester over New Zealand because it is closer to me.” Dan shook his head. “No, well that’s part of the reason. Also, I would love to go to New Zealand! No offence but if I could go and study in New Zealand I would go straight away. I was thinking Manchester because there are a few courses there that I would like to do.” Phil nodded. “Which courses are they?” “I wanted to do either something artistic and interesting, but I can’t even draw a stick figure, so I am thinking maybe law.” “Is law something you want to do.” “Yeah. I think so.” Dan half smiled. “Then do the law course.” Dan smiled. “Thanks Phil.”

They talked for 15 more minutes before Phil said “It’s 11:58.” Dan looked at the little clock in the corner of his screen. “Umm, its 5:28 am here.” “Dan! Did you stay up 4 hours after your typical bedtime just to tell me happy birthday at midnight? You are on holiday! You should be relaxing, part of relaxing involves sleeping in longer than usual.” Dan blushed. “1 more minute to go.” “Dan, stop avoiding me. You texted me earlier on saying that you were going on an elephant ride tomorrow and having a tour of the Tahj Mahal. I don’t want you to fall off the freaking elephant because you stayed up until 5:30 in the morning just to say-” “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHIL!!” he said excitedly. Phil couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend, who he missed so badly. They had seen each other on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, then Dan went home, and Phil came to stay with Dan 2 weeks later. It was killing him having Dan 7,600 kilometres away from him, in a whole other continent. He missed him like crazy. “THANK YOU DAN!!” he said just as excitedly as Dan had. They both giggled. “I miss you, Dan.” He said, a sad smile playing on his lips. “I miss you too.” Dan said. “But I will be seeing you in 3 days at the Manchester Airport, surprise! As part of your present from me, your mum said I can stay for a week.” Phil was smiling the biggest smile Dan had seen. “I can’t wait! I am so excited! I’m going to go to sleep now, and so should you, I don’t want an elephant to kill my gorgeous boyfriend before I get to see him again.” Dan turned pink at his words. “Goodnight Phil.” “Goodnight Dan.” They blew each other a kiss and pretended to catch it and pocket it before ending the skype call.

Dan pulled off his shirt, put his laptop away and lay down and pulled the blanket onto his naked torso. He thought of seeing Phil again and smiled, shut his eyes and fell into a deep, content sleep.

Phil changed into pajama bottoms, flicked the light off, removed his glasses and lay down in his bed, thoughts of Dan spending another week with him filling his pretty little head. He fell into an easy, peaceful sleep.

He was lying on the blue and green duvet in Phil’s bedroom, Phil lying next to him, giggling as Dan told him a story about the strange people he had seen on holiday. “It was a good trip though. Shame you weren’t there. You would have loved the elephants.” Phil propped himself up on his elbow, his ocean blue eyes meeting Dan’s coffee and oak eyes. Phil leaned down and connected their lips together. “I missed you so much.” He said, never taking his eyes away from Dan’s. Dan blushed. “It was only 2 weeks. And I’m not that great.” “Yes you are, Dan.” Dan blushed harder.  They sat up properly and kissed lazily but meaningfully, with passion and love in every touch.

“Hey Phil?” Dan asked, with his head resting in Phil’s lap, stroking his soft brown hair that he straightened more than necessary. The emo hair was kind of dying in popularity, but he and Dan still clung to it, as if it was an alternative tether to reality. It suited them both though, and Dan hated his curly hair more than anything.

“Hmm?” he mumbled back, his eyes fixed on the episode of Angel. When he was 13, and he started watching Buffy in 2000, he realised that he liked boys. But Sarah Michelle Geller was the reason he also liked girls. He remembered the time where he sat on the same couch 10 years ago, being so confused about his sexuality. He half smiled at the memory, being so young and naïve. He had a good childhood and upbringing.

“When do you want your present?” Dan asked. “You being here is already my favourite present.” He said truthfully. Dan grinned. “Well I got you another present. And it involves me. So you will like it. Probably.” Phil smiled at Dan. “Can I have it later on?” Dan sat up so he could kiss Phil. The butterflies in Dan’s tummy flew around madly. Even after four months, he still got butterflies when he kissed Phil. His mind would go blank, his skin tingling from the contact. And then after the kiss, he would feel a hunger, a yearning for more. The more they touched the more Dan wanted.  Phil was like a drug. And that was the only way he could explain it.

After having dinner with Phil’s family, they went upstairs to Phil’s room. Phil flopped down on his bed, while Dan lay down on the floor, staring at the excessive amounts of pictures and posters on Phil’s ceiling. He felt his phone buzz next to him. He picked it up and saw that it was from his mum. He ignored it and put his phone in his bag. He felt his fingers brush against his present for Phil. He looked over to see Phil on his laptop. He picked up the envelope and sat down next to Phil. He closed the lid of his laptop and put it on his side table, giving Dan his full attention. Dan rolled on top of Phil and kissed him softly, the familiar warm feeling making an appearance in his chest.

“Happy birthday.” He said, giving Phil the envelope. Phil smiled and sat up, keeping his legs intertwined with Dan’s. He ripped open the envelope. Inside was a card. On the front of the card was a picture they had taken last October when they met. On the inside, covering both sides of the card was writing, written in Dan’s messy, left-handed scrawl. Phil began to read.

“Dear Phil,

Happy 23rd birthday! Umm I never know what to write in birthday cards, so I will try to keep this as simple and not ramble-y as possible.

To keep it simple, I love you. You might think that is ridiculous, because we have only been together for 3 months and 14 days by the time you read this, but I love you. And to put it simply, I don’t know the exact reason why.

I love you for your heart, how you can be so sweet to other people. I love you because you are so caring. Even when I feel like shit, you care about me when I don’t care about myself. You are smart. I mean, fuck, you have a Masters Degree. I love you because you are so intelligent. You are creative, and attractive. Like seriously, you look like a god, and don’t try to tell me otherwise. It won’t work. You are gorgeous. And you are my best friend.

I didn’t have a best friend until we started talking, and even with the distance between us, I honestly believe it makes us closer.  

I don’t want to rush this relationship at all, out of fear of it ending, because it is probably the thing I treasure most.

Happy Birthday, Phil. I love you. Dan xx

Phil could feel tears in his eyes as he read Dan’s words. “I love you too, Dan.” He said, wrapping his arms around Dan’s smaller body, connecting their lips for a deep kiss. When they broke apart, Dan gave him another present. “I got a job to save enough for this.” He said as Phil opened it. “Did you get fired?” Dan rolled his eyes and giggled. “No, I quit the second I had enough.” He pulled out two small strips of paper. “You got us tickets to see My Chemical Romance?” Dan nodded excitedly. “I fucking love you.” Phil said. Dan giggled again. “Do you like it?” He asked, already predicting the answer. “Yes, hell yes I do! I get to see Gerard fucking Way in person. Of course I like it!  This beats the fucking cordless hammer drill my dad got me.” Dan hugged Phil and kissed him. “You should swear more, it’s really attractive.” Phil blushed.

They stayed up talking in the dark, about everything from the past to the future together. “Can you see us together in 8 years?” Dan mumbled tiredly. “Why 8?” Phil asked, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and rolling over to face him. “I don’t know, what about 10 then?” Phil smiled. “I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you, Dan.”

“Goodnight Dan.” He said. Dan kissed him on the forehead. “Goodnight Phil.” “We are so sappy.” Phil observed. “You love it.” Dan replied sleepily. Phil tangled his legs with Dan’s and wrapped his arms around his chest. He was tired, but not as tired as Dan. He loved sleeping with Dan. It made him feel at ease and calm, and he always slept better with him. It took Dan a few minutes to fall asleep, his heart beating softly. Phil kissed Dan’s cheek. “I can see us getting married in 10 years. But I don’t want to rush us, and you are only 18, I am 23 and I don’t want to give you ideas. Which is why I am telling you while you are asleep. I love you.” He mumbled in a sleepy daze to Dan, before drifting into an easy sleep.

Moonshot - Chapter 11

Wow. First of all, I'm really sorry for the delay of this chapter. I'm extremely busy with uni and since I'm having a bit of a writer's block with this story it has been really difficult to get this chapter out.

Either way, thank you for following my stories and supporting my writing, it means a lot! Anyways, every comment/ feedback is welcome!

summary: Phil had a feeling that this Friday was going to be different.

That didn’t mean he was ready to meet his favourite baseball player, Daniel Howell, while he was cleaning the windows of a building.

or the au in which Phil is a shy window cleaner and Dan is a famous baseball player. This is their story.

words: 3.6k

no trigger warnings

Read on ao3 - (x)

Chapters: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10

Dan didn't go home that night.

He tried to, mentioning a few times that he should let Phil rest after the crazy few days he had had, trying to give Phil a bit of space if he wanted.

If Dan was honest he hadn't really wanted to go back to his lonely apartment in the heavy rain, but he could understand Phil's boundaries so he offered anyways, but Phil wasn't getting any of it, convincing Dan to stay with a few soft kisses.

So Dan ended up staying, still acting a bit shy around Phil when he told Dan to lie down with him on his bed, getting under the covers and sighing when Phil put his arms around him, bringing him closer to his still cold body, laying his head on Phils's chest, the beat of his heart relaxing Dan to the point that he fell asleep before managing to say a faint ''good night''.

It was now the next morning and Dan woke up slowly, rolling onto his side while his head rested on a pillow...? Wait. He thought he had fallen asleep almost on top of Phil last night? Had he dreamed that? Was yeterday all a dream? He hoped it really wasn't.

''Phil?'' Dan softly called, searching blindly for a warm body next to him only to receive no response. Was Phil still asleep?

Dan opened his eyes and looked around, finding no Phil on the bed or even on the bedroom. Had Phil left him? No, this couldn't be, Phil wouldn't do that. He must be in the bathroom then. But the door was still open and no one was there... Phil had really left him alone on his bed?

Dan was now more convinced than ever that yesterday had been all a dream. That it was all in his head. He only wanted to cry now.

He was about to get up and dress as quick as possible to leave this nightmare when suddenly the bedroom door opened, a messy haired Phil walking in with a tray on his hands that carried a few plates and mugs, his glasses falling a bit down his nose making him trip a bit at the entrance but quickly regaining the balance.

''Oh, you are up! It was going to be a surprise but I brought you breakfast!'' Phil said with a tired smile, walking towards Dan who just blankly stared at him.

Had Phil, who had only been his boyfriend for a few hours, really walked in to bring Dan breakfast? Now, this was a fucking dream. Dan only thought this only happened in movies...

''I only had cereal and a bit of fruit, but I made coffee with two sugars as you like it. I can do some toast if you would like but I don't have any jam so I thought it wouldn't be the best idea and...'' Phil rambled as he set the tray down on Dan's lap, bracketing his thights and sitting down next to Dan, popping up some pillows on the headboard to get more comfortable.

Dan continued to stare. He was sure he looked stupid right now but he couldn't seem to function. This was something Dan had been dreaming of happening for a while now and Phil had managed to do it without even knowing that Dan would have wanted something like this.

''Is something wrong? You don't like this cereal, I can bring you oth...'' Dan heard Phil ask with a concerned expression on his face.

''No!'' Dan cut him off, maybe a bit too loudly and strong than he had intended, ''No, Phil, no. I... I like this cereal. I like this breakfast thing, I like it a lot. Thank you.'' Dan said in a softer tone this time, accompaning all the words with a proper smile, ''It's actually one thing... no, it's silly nevermind, let's eat.'' Dan said, wanting to tell Phil about his 'dream', but Phil would proably think it was so foolish and lame so he discarded the idea of even mentioning something.

''Hey, no Dan, if it matters to you it cannot be silly, okay? You can tell me if you want.'' Phil said, grabbing one of Dan's hands between his, somehow giving Dan an impulse to start opening up to the blue eyed.

''It's just... everytime I felt lonely I wished for someone to enter my bedroom and bring me breakfast with coffee, some fruit, pancakes and a rose, I don't really know why but then you suddenly entered the bedroom and I... It's just a small gesture but to me it means a lot. And the fact that you didn't even know about it makes it more impressive so... thank you.'' Dan explained, feeling a lot better already.

''Well, I'm sorry mine didn't carry pancakes or a rose so I think for next time I will have to keep that in mind.'' Phil said, bringing Dan for a sweet kiss that had his heart fluttering not only because of the soft and gentle kiss, but also the words. He would love to have breakfast in bed with Phil every morning.

''Wait, you don't have practice today?'' Phil asked as soon as they separated.

''I did, but I called yesterday and coach let me the next two days off. I guessed I would need a bit of time to process whatever happened when I came to yours.'' Dan said, taking a small sip from his coffee, ''This was more important to me than practice anyways, so I even if I didn't have permission to miss training I would have done it anyways. My mind would be too busy and wouldn't be able to concentrate so...''

''So, given that you don't have more practice till Monday.... you wanna spend this four day weekend with me? I mean, I have to work on Friday but we could still manage to arrange something, it's just a few hours.'' Phil suggested with a smile, taking a few pieces of fruit.

Dan beamed at him. It was just such a simple suggestion, something you hear all couples do, but still it made him feel all tingly and warm inside. ''Yes, I would love to!''

''Great! Now let's eat, I'm starving, aren't you?'' Phil said, pecking Dan's cheek before grabbing a few more pieces of fruit, almost leaving the bowl empty, alternating between feeding one to Dan and one to himself.

______________  

They literally spent all Thursday in Phil's bed, snuggling around blankets and each other as they catched up on anime while eating an unhealthy amount of popcorn and chocolate goods. He had enjoyed every minute he spent with him. Every gentle touch they traded, every caress, every kiss... It seemed as if Dan couldn't get enough of Phil and Phil wouldn't complain about it. Oh no. He was pretty much okay having Dan Howell all over him almost for 24 hours.

Even though Phil insisted Dan to stay the night again, (and could also see on Dan's face that he didn't want to go back to his flat) the player decided to return back since he knew Phil worked tomorrow and wanted him to have a good night's rest.

It was Friday now and Phil was already reaching Dan's windows instantly frowing at the lack of Dan inside the spacious flat. 'Where was he?' He had promised yesterday to be here when Phil arrived...

Suddenly an almost naked Dan walked into the living room just out from the shower as Phil could guess from the maroon towel that was covering his lower body and the few drops of water that were making their way down his toned torso, a mop of ultra messy curls on top of his head that Phil really wanted to untangle with his fingers.

Even though Phil knew his face was deep red and could be seen from kilometres away, he was so glad that the glass separating them was soundproof so Dan couldn't hear the gasp he had let out at the sight.

How was Phil even so lucky? That was a question he didn't know how to answer.

Just as the blue eyed was trying to prentend not to have seen Dan in case he felt uncomfortable, Dan noticed him and smiled, walking towards him and picking up the the notebook he had been using to communicate with Phil all those first times.

While Dan was writing, Phil used his time to he admire his boyfriend's physical attributes up close. He noticed small light brown fleckles scatered around on his collarbones as if they were splatters of paint, followed by a weirdly shaped birthmark on his stomach really near to his belly button, making Dan more of a unique person than he already was.

'Sorry, showered longer than expected but come up when you finish? Gonna change now :)' Phil read once he startled out of his trance.

He gulped and quickly nodded, smiling a little before ushering Dan back to his bedroom with a few hand movements, rapidly picking up a bottle and spraying around so he couldn't get lost on that defined back.

Once Dan disappeared, Phil managed to clean all of the windows on record time, giving him enough time to calm himself down so he could knock on Dan's front door with no red cheeks that would  surely been followed by nervous movements and high-pitched greetings.

''Hi,'' a fully dressed Dan said happily as he opened the door even wider, letting Phil in and greeting him with a sweet kiss, lacing his arms around the black haired, who easily responded and kissed Dan back.

''It feels so good to do that,'' Dan said once they separated, quickly closing the door and dragging Phil further in.

''I agree,'' Phil said, leaning in for another kiss that didn't last too long. ''So, what plans did you think we could do today?''

''I have something in mind but first,'' Dan said in a mysterious tone, walking to his bedroom and not letting Phil follow, signing him to sit on the sofa and to leave his coat and backpack at the entrance.  

Phil did as he was told and looked around the living room with a new perspective, spotting a few pictures of younger Dan with his family, friends and teamates, smiling at the happiness he was radiating. He also noticed a few books around, reading the vertically written titles rapidly, some of them familiar, some others not so much.

Just before he could finish reading the shelves of books, Dan appeared again, something familiar on his hands.

''My manuscript.''

''Your manuscript.'' Dan sat down next to him, handing him the stack of papers perfectly settled.

''Did you finish it?'' Phil asked a bit waryly. He wouldn't admit it, but Dan's opinion on his writing was pretty important to him. Of course he remembered the compliments the brown eyed had told him a few days back over Skype, but he had just read a little, not enough to form a solid opinion of t yet.

''Yeah, yesterday. I would have finished it earlier but you know after everything well... but Phil, it's... wow, it's mindblowing. Your book, really, I don't know, it has something that drives you in all the time, each chapter, every new character that appears, every single plot twist. Phil, it's amazing.'' Dan finished with a sigh, smiling softly at Phil.

''Really? You think so?'' Phil questioned, staring at his manuscript and back at Dan repeatedly, as if he didn't believe the words he was saying, ''It's just, maybe it wasn't that good, I mean, I haven't gotten a call back from any publishing houses yet so...''

''Yes, really Phil, believe me. It's good, really good. No, even more than that, it's awesome, okay? And, even if it takes time I know that call will arrive, I don't know when but it will arrive.'' Dan said, reaching for Phil's hands to comfort him a bit.

''Thank you,'' Phil muttered, giving Dan a peck before lying his head on his shoulder, instantly feeling Dan's arm bringing him even closer,  ''So, let's not talk about my writing anymore, what did you plan for us to do today?''

''Well, you know how I moved here not so long ago, and with practices, interviews, trips and more I have a spare room that needs some painting, so would you help me? If you are up to it, of course, we can always do something else if you want to...'' Dan said, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

''Yeah! It sounds like fun! But you will need to lend me some old clothes since I didn't bring any...'' Phil commented, gesturing to the clothes that he had put on under his work uniform, now stuffed in his backpack.

''Yeah of course, c'mon, we can start now and have a lunch break later on,'' Dan said excitedly as he lifted himself from the sofa and grabbed Phil's hand in the process, pulling him up without any warning.

Phil protested a bit from having to move from the sofa and the sudden movements but a quick kiss from Dan shut him up, ''Stop complaining and follow me, the walls are huge and we will need a few hours to finish the whole room.''

Five minutes later Phil found himself dressed with baggy sweatpants and an extra large sweater that smelled like Dan (not that he was complaining. Not at all) in the middle of an empty ugly green coloured room waiting for Dan to come back with the brushes and paint along with some music and speakers that he had insisted on bringing so they could have some background noise while they painted.

''Ready to paint?'' Dan said as he entered the room, handing Phil a big brush and connecting the phone to some speakers as he choose a random playlist that filled the room with pop music instantly.

Phil nooded and grinned, instantly dipping the brush inside the tub of paint and giving a few gentle strokes on the wall, looking at Dan as he did the same, moving and humming along with the music.

They both had been painting for a while when Walking On Sunshine by Katrina & The Waves came through the speakers, making them both start fully singing and dancing in the silliest way possible as if they were in some karaoke.

''Walking on sunshine... I feel the love, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real! I feel the love, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real!'' They sang looking at each other, staring at the other's crinkled eyes due the big smiles they had on their faces.

Phil didn't know why but he felt warm all sudden. Was it because of the lyrics of the song maybe having a double meaning? No, it couldn't be... But then, he looked at Dan, who probably was mirroring his euphoric mood, literally beaming a Phil and he understood.

He was in love. He was in love with Dan Howell. There was no way out now.

''Phil, you okay?'' he heard Dan ask over the loud notes of an unfamiliar rock song, who was still smiling but had a bit of worry in his expression.

''Yeah, I'm fine. Great!'' Phil answered, smiling back at Dan as he leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss, enjoying the soft look it got on Dan's face.

''Phil! You painted my jumper!'' Dan laughed, trying to erase the paint that was already dry, painting Phil back on revenge.

''It was an accident I swear!'' Phil said staring at the big white spot that was now on Dan's clothes. It had really been an accident when he leaned in and didn't even notice where he had the paint brush, but now he was running, trying his best to escape Dan's brush but not succeeding at all, ''You just painted your own sweater!''

''I don't care, you deserved that!'' Dan replied, trying to make an angry face but not managing to erase the toothy-grin that he was sporting.

''And you, deserve... this!'' Phil reached forward and managed to paint Dan's left cheek, leaving a wide white stroke adorning his face.

Dan gasped at the cold paint on his face, ''Phil! Oh, you are on!''

They started chasing eachother around the empty room, somehow managing to paint one another as they laughed and sang along to old radio music, squealing every time they felt the brush touch their skin or body.

''I think... we should... stop for... a bit'' Phil suggested between breaths. He wasn't a professional athlete like Dan, so after a few minutes running he was more than ready to collapse on the floor.

''You already tired, Lester?'' Dan teased as he turned off the radio and walked up to Phil, caressing his cheek, giving it a soft peck before asking if he wanted a glass of water, an offer Phil gladly took.

As Dan left the room, Phil heard some familiar music but he couldn't place where it was coming from... The radio was turned off so, maybe some neighbour was blasting a song in the shower?

''Phil, I think your phone is ringing!'' he heard Dan shout from the kitchen.

Oh, yeah! It was his rigntone, now it all made sense! Someone was calling him and he didn't get phonecalls that often so it must be important...

Phil ran off the room and picked up the phone from the front pocket of his backpack, not even bothering to look at the number that was calling him.

''Yes?'' Phil answered a bit out of breath, silently thanking Dan as he brought him a big glass of water that he drank in a few seconds, handing it back to Dan who returned to the kitchen to leave Phil speak privately.

''Hi, is this Phil Lester?'' A polite and sweet voice from the other side of the phone asked.

''Yeah, it's me, who is calling?'' Phil asked a bit unsure as he didn't recognize the voice at all...

''Hi, Mr. Lester my name is Nicky and I'm calling you from Bloomsbury Publishing.''

Bloomsbury Publishing. Wait. It was one of the most important publishing houses in the UK.

When Phil heard Nicky's introduction he tried not to get his hopes up. He had been rejected a few times already by them so he wasn't expecting the next sentences.

''I'm calling you beacuse we are interested in publishing your novel 'Strangers of Space'. We have been looking into more Sci-fi works lately and yours seems to be one of our favourites. Will you be willing to meet next Monday at noon for a proper meeting?''

Phil gasped at this. What was even happening!? He couldn't belive this, he was going to cry. This was what he had been waiting for all his life and now it was close to becoming true.

''Yes sure! Thank you! I just... thank you!'' Phil managed to let out, still not believing this was happening.

''Great! If you have any questions just call into this same phone number and I will try to answer them all.'' Nicky offered.

''Okay, and thank you!'' Phil repeated, not knowing what more he should say.

Nicky said her goodbyes and hung up the phone, leaving Phil alone with his thoughts.

''This is real, Phil. You are probably getting published by one of the most important publishing houses in the UK.'' he said to himself, still surprised and a bit in shock.

Suddenly Dan's worried voice startled him, ''Phil, you okay? Is something wrong? You seem paler than usual... Was that phonecall a bad one?''

Phil felt Dan's hand touch his face, as if trying to get Phil out of the daze he was in.

''Yes... I mean, no! I mean, I'm okay and no, it wasn't a bad phonecall, it was probably the best phonecall I have ever gotten Dan!'' he excitedly said, showing his boyfriend a big smile before breaking the news, ''it was from Bloomsbury Publishing, they said they really like 'Strangers of Space' and they are interested in publishing it! Dan, they want to publish my novel!'' Phil squealed, giving a few little jumps before he felt a pair of strong and big arms enveloping him in a big hug.

''Phil, that's awesome! I'm so happy for you! I'm so proud of you!'' Dan said to him, separating their bodies a bit so they could look at each other in the eyes, a wide and pround smile on his face, ''I cannot believe my boyfriend is going to be a best selling author...'' Dan teased but is his tone Phil could really hear his sincerity. Did Dan really believe he could be a best selling author? Wow.

''Dan, shh! I don't know if I will ever get to be one, but just having this opportunity is... is amazing. But either way, thank you for believing in me.''

''Phil... I will always believe in you.'' Dan said, bringing Phil into a deep kiss that showed him better than anything else how much Dan supported him.

''So, what about some celebratory popcorn, huh?'' Dan asked once they separated for air, lacing their fingers together to pull Phil towards the couch.

Phil nodded repeatedly, as he sat down on the sofa and stared up at Dan, who was still looking at him with the softest smile on his face, ''Celebratory popcorn sounds perfect right now...''

''Three minutes and I'll be back, okay? Just, put a movie on if you want...'' Dan leaned down and pecked Phil on the lips, leaving Phil wanting nothing more than gentle kisses from the curly haired.

''Okay...'' Phil whispered against Dan's lips, turning around just in time to watch his boyfriend prepare the microwaved popcorn as he hummed to an unknown song.

'Yeah, I'm in love with Dan Howell.'

Chapter 12

Tromso- a polar experience

When I told my travel agent that I wanted to Visit Norway, naturally she jotted down a few days in Oslo, and that was it. After a bit of research, while I’m sure Oslo is beautiful, I realised that it wasn’t particularly the winter in Norway that we were looking for. So I started to look into other towns and options and I stumbled across Tromso. In our trip we were going to Iceland to (hopefully) see the northern lights, but when I saw that we had the chance to enter the arctic circle, visit this town, and have more chance of seeing the Aurora, I immediately called my travel agent and changed the plans. I added 4 days in Tromso and 3 days in Bergen (I’ll get to Bergen in another post).

Tromso is a coastal town that sits up in the very north of Norway near the borders of Finland and Sweden and is part of the arctic circle. Because of the coastal location and the gulf that enters Tromso coming from Mexico (if memory serves me) while being polar and in the arctic circle, Tromso is somewhat warm (by warm I mean it isn’t -30) and if you are from a hot Australian climate and don’t experience temperatures lower than about 9 degrees in the winter, this was music to my ears. Essentially it means you get all the perks and experiences of a polar arctic town without partially dying or loosing a finger or toe every time you step outside.

Flying into Tromso with our heads glued to the window it was absolutely breathtaking, the coast lined with snow capped mountains and tiny towns was unlike anything I’d seen.

For our four days, I’d booked dog sledding (amazing), snowmobiling, a fjords cruise, and two northern lights chases. The first chase was a more expensive small group tour that provided dinner, hot drinks, camp fires and a cosy experience with just 13 others. The second was a cheaper big bus tour, because Tromso isn’t the cheapest place I’ve ever been, actually probably its one of the most expensive, but so worth it.

Anyway, every trip we did was incredible. Every guide was passionate and in love with their job, they were all so knowledgeable and willing to pass on their experiences and knowledge. You can tell when someone loves their job, and these guys really did. It was so refreshing and enjoyable.

Everything in Tromso is in walking distance and strolling around the centre of town is great, the streets are lined with cafes, restaurants and bars and it isn’t hard to find somewhere to sit and escape the cold.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve travelled. At the ripe old age of 23 I’ve visited 31 countries and encountered countless cultures, experiences and have seen so many stunning landscapes. But I’ve ALWAYS wanted to witness the Aurora Borealis but, living in Australia that isn’t the easiest thing for me to do, so this winter trip was partially formed to be able to see the northern lights.

*A few things about the Aurora that I’ve learnt; it’s mainly a luck game (and when you’ve travelled some 15,089 kilometres, have a slight bit of OCD and like to control most things, relying on luck didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t have a choice). We’d come at a good time of year (February) to optimise chances, but the Aurora relies mainly on 3 things to be seen-

1. Clear skies- okay seems simple right ? Wrong. If any of you have ever been to Europe in the winter you’ll know clear skies aren’t that easy to find.. particularly in a coastal town. Weather predictions and forecasts are generally wrong because the weather constantly changes (the weather has more mood swings than a teenage girl with pms). Anyway.. clouds block the view of the Aurora. So you have to find clear skies (a lot of companies will take you out to the borders of Finland and into the country to find clear skies) generally if you can see stars- that’s a big plus.

2. Darkness- simple ? Yep. Tromso in the winter is generally dark. They literally don’t see sun for almost 2 months of winter. We had about 6-7 hours of sunlight a day because we chose February when the sun had returned, but darkness isn’t a problem. You just have to drive away from the light pollution in the city, which is easy enough.

3. The green lady (the Aurora Borealis). Essentially, the lights (mainly green, sometimes purple, rarely pink and almost never red) are a result of solar storms releasing particles that burn up when they reach the earths atmosphere. The colour of the lights depend on how close those particles get to earth before they burn out, and it only happens around the earths poles because of the earths magnetic fields in those areas (pretty cool, huh?) so, even if you tick off the above two, depending on activity levels and a whole lot of other factors, the lights might not even be out that night.

Our light chase on the first night was great; our guide was amazing, dinner was great and we had an amazing experience with a camp fire in the snow eating and roasting marshmallows. We travelled for 2 hours searching for clear skies, but to no avail. The green lady didn’t appear. We returned back to our hotel at 2.30am, drowsy and a little sad. But that’s the way it goes.

Our second night chase we hopped aboard a big bus with 50 other hopefuls and two guides. Honestly, I didn't have the slightest hope we would see them. I had already told my partner I was going to book another tour for the following night. With low expectations I slept some of the way to the spot our guide had picked as she told us about the low activity and cloud cover that loomed ahead. About an hour into the trip she got on the microphone and informed us that on her sky camera she could see an opening in the clouds. We looked out the window of the bus and we could see stars, hundreds of them. When we arrived at a little beach ledge with a big field we all scrambled off the bus, set up our cameras on the tripods, and we waited. It was about -10 degrees so waiting was slightly painful. About 10 minutes later our guide spoke the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard ‘ I can see the lights’ and what began as a green strip only visible from our cameras, eventually turned into the strongest greens and purples that arched across the sky some of our photos even showed up some red light (not visible to the human eye, but SUPER rare). After 3 hours of consistent light shows, we began to journey back, and stopped at another location where we could see the lights changing and the display we got was phenomenal. The lights filled the sky and danced in curtains with purples and different shades of green, and above us was a rare seldom white light that sat still in the most interesting pattern, our guide grew up in Tromso and she mentioned that this type of light was very rare and she hadn’t seen it in years.

An absolutely unforgettable experience that will no doubt be the highlight of our trip.

So if you want polar dog sledding, northern lights and a stunning arctic town, Tromso is for you. Actually even if you hate winter, I think this is a place everyone should visit, and if you do I guarantee you’ll fall in love with it.

[Irregular Webcomic! #4163](https://ift.tt/2FxgI5a)

Where to begin? As most of you are no doubt already aware, Australia is currently enduring a major bushfire emergency, which began with fires in September 2019, which are ongoing and still posing major dangers. The past couple of weeks, since Christmas, have been particularly bad as the summer heats up and large masses of hot, dry air persist over the continent. I spent Christmas Eve with my family at an evening gathering. The weather was relatively cool, a nice change from some of the scorching Christmases we've had in the past few years. My aunt and uncle (who were hosting the event) told me of their plan to head down the south coast to their holiday home in the tiny beachside town of Lake Conjola, to spend some time relaxing over the summer holidays with their two children (young adults). I though nothing more of it, until a week later, on New Year's Eve. That day was very hot, with heatwave conditions across much of south-eastern Australia. This made the still-burning bushfires more intense and helped them to spread more quickly. I was keeping an eye on news sites for updates. Before I knew it, Lake Conjola was under direct threat. This town is at the end of a single access road running to the coast form the Princes Highway, the main north-south route along to the coast, here running a few kilometres inland. The fire burned across the highway, cutting it off both north and south of Lake Conjola, so rapidly that there was virtually no time between emergency authorities issuing an evacuation order, and subsequently having to close the road due to immediate danger. The fires closed in, cutting off Lake Conjola from the outside world. They burnt down power poles, cutting electricity to the town, and damaged cell phone towers. Just before communications were cut, my aunt sent the following photos to our family. These show a firefighting helicopter with water bucket collecting water form the lake, and then spot fires in the town ahead of the main fire front. My aunt messaged that her plan was to evacuate to the beach if the fire got close to the holiday house, where at least she could be safe. While the world rang in 2020, I had no idea if my aunt and uncle and their kids, or their house, would survive the night. I also had a friend who was down the coast with his wife and three young girls, in a separate holiday town a but further south. Their location was not under as immediate threat, but with the roads cut around them they also had nowhere else to go. I woke up on New Year's Day and checked the news. It was piecemeal because it was too difficult to get emergency authorities and reporters into the area, but indications were that the fire had gone directly through Lake Conjola. It wasn't until lunchtime on New Year's Day that I heard any news about my aunt and uncle. My cousin (their son) sent a message that many houses in Lake Conjola had been destroyed, but he didn't know if theirs was one of them. A bit later there was another message, saying that the street their house was on had lost no houses, so he presumed their house was safe. At this point I realised that he wasn't there in Lake Conjola himself. The next message he said that there was still no news about his mother (my aunt). It turned out that she had travelled down to the holiday house to get it ready for the holiday, buying groceries and so on. The rest of the family had been planning to go down a day or two later and join her, but they'd been stopped by the road closures on New Year's Eve, and never got there. My aunt was in Lake Conjola with no family. My cousin was naturally scanning for any news he could get and collecting information from any source he could find. The next thing he sent to us were photos taken in Conjola on New Year's Eve: He didn't say who took these photos, so I don't know. (I'm therefore unable to credit the original photographers - if you know, please let me know. I've since found some of the photos, uncredited, in this story from the Milton Ulladulla Times.) And that famous photo that made front page news around the world, of a kangaroo jumping past a house ablaze? That was taken in Conjola on New Year's Eve. That's where my aunt was trapped. At 3:30 pm, we finally had news from my aunt. She managed to find some patchy phone reception and sent word that she was safe, and the house was safe. The fire had gone through the tiny settlement of Conjola Park, a couple of kilometres west of Lake Conjola, and destroyed almost every house there. Fortunately for the residents of Lake Conjola itself, just as the fire reached the edge of town, destroying three houses, the wind had changed, blowing it away from the remainder of the town. My aunt was safe, but still trapped. The highway north and south was still closed with ongoing fires. It remained this way for the next three days. Lake Conjola had no power, no incoming food supplies, extremely patchy phone reception, and no way for anyone to travel anywhere. Emergency services had bigger things on their minds, with larger towns under threat and larger populations, up to 4000 people in some cases, to evacuate from more immediate danger zones. With the fire already turned back from Conjola, my aunt had to wait with limited food and fresh water, and no way to communicate. The road finally opened again on Friday 4 January, four full days after the town had been isolated. Emergency services personnel escorted small groups of vehicles out and along the highway to safety. No vehicle was allowed to travel without an escort, in case burnt trees fell and cut off the road - they didn't want people to go missing. Later that afternoon she was reunited with my uncle. This is just one small story from a disaster that is engulfing Australia. As I type this (on Monday 6 January), 25 people have been confirmed killed by the fires, 7 remain missing. Well over 1500 homes have been destroyed, as well as thousands of other buildings and structures. The total area burnt so far is over 80,000 square kilometres, which is larger than Ireland, almost as large as Austria. These numbers will continue increasing for weeks, as the fires continue to burn, unstoppable in the hottest part of summer, as we suffer the worst drought in recorded history. Even in places not directly affected by flames, the smoke from the fires is causing hazardous air quality across much of south-eastern Australia. For over a month now, air quality in Sydney (where I live) has been marginal some days, and officially "hazardous" on many other days. Visibility has been down to 100 metres or so because of thick smoke in the air, the sun shines down with an apocalyptic orange glow even during the middle of the day, and the smell of smoke is everywhere. Ash and burnt leaves fall from the sky, even in the middle of the city. Outdoor surfaces, wiped clean, are covered in a fine gritty ash the next day. Hospital admissions are up around 10-15% because of people experiencing increased asthma and other respiratory conditions. Canberra, which is a long way from any fires, has experienced several days in a row of horrible air conditions, with many institutions and government departments shutting down because it's too hazardous even inside the buildings for people to work. Historic towns, full of significant buildings, such as Cobargo, have been almost entirely destroyed. Mount Selwyn, a ski resort has been entirely destroyed by fire. Huge numbers of livestock are dead or dying, and there are fears that the task of disposing of the carcasses may overwhelm resources, leading to decay and the risk of disease spreading. An estimated 500 million wild mammals, birds, and reptiles have been killed. A fire on Kangaroo Island, a 4400 square km island in South Australia, has burnt almost half the island, killing over half the population of approximately 50,000 koalas there and injuring many others beyond recovery. The koala population on Kangaroo Island was considered the last bastion of koalas, as it's the only isolated wild population free of the chlamydia infection which is killing other koala communities. Agricultural losses are huge. Many of the destroyed buildings were old, from a time when asbestos was routinely used as a building material. The smoking ruins are now too dangerous to go near or clean up without a full environment suit, because of the risk of asbestos fibres released into the air. When and if the rain finally comes, there are fears it could wash enormous amounts of ash into our reservoirs, clogging treatment systems and threatening the water supply to major cities like Sydney. While this has been happening, the Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison has been singularly unresponsive and unhelpful. In April 2019, prior to the Australian Federal election, a group of 22 former fire and emergency services chiefs from multiple states issued a public statement saying that Australia was unprepared for worsening natural disasters from climate change and Federal and State Governments were putting lives at risk. They requested a meeting with the next Government to discuss the increased risks and how to adequately fund and prepare emergency services for them[1]. By November, when the current fire crisis was already well underway, the Government had still not met with the group[2]. Morrison is the man who as Federal Treasurer in 2017 literally brought a lump of coal into Parliament during Question Time and told people how great it was to mine it and burn it[3]. As it was becoming clear just how terrible things would be in the week before Christmas, he took a holiday to Hawaii, which he cut short when it was clear how much public criticism this was attracting. Later, Morrison toured the destroyed town of Cobargo. Not to comfort people or ask what he could do to help. He tried to shake the hand of an exhausted volunteer firefighter, who told the Prime Minister, "I don't really want to shake your hand." Morrison reach for the man's right hand, but the firefighter pulled it away. Morrison then grabbed the man's left hand and gave it a cursory shake, before walking away.

Gosh this is so awkward. Australian PM Scott Morrison goes to try and shake the hand of a firefighter who does not appear keen. (The PM was abused earlier by angry locals) Filmed by @GregNelsonACS @abcnews #AustraliaBurning #NSWbushfires #SouthCoastFires pic.twitter.com/3zjeJp3jWe

— Sophie McNeill (@Sophiemcneill) January 2, 2020

Soon after Morrison spoke to a local incident controller of the Rural Fire Service: "Tell that fella I’m really sorry, I’m sure he’s just tired." The controller replied, "No no, he lost a house."

Shortly after the non-handshake: PM: “Tell that fella I’m really sorry, I’m sure he’s just tired.” Local incident controller: “No no, he lost a house.”#AustraliaBurning #ausfires #nswfires pic.twitter.com/9PodUTCf9z

— Siobhan Heanue (@siobhanheanue) January 2, 2020

In the same visit, Morrison approached young mother Zoey Salucci-McDermott, 28 weeks pregnant, who had lost her home in the fire. As she was in the process of saying, "I'm only shaking your hand if you give more funding to our RFS [Rural Fire Service]," he reached for and took her hand forcefully - against her will - giving it a brief shake. "So many people have lost their homes ... We need more help," she continued, as the Prime Minister turned his back on her and walked away, letting a minder do the job of shushing the woman. Now, I'm not a politician, but I think a better option here would have been to: (1) not grab someone's hand - not a firefighter, let alone a young woman - when it's not being offered for a handshake, (2) listen to the people who are hurting, (3) tell them that you're listening, you understand that they're upset, and (4) ask them what they think the Government has done wrong and how it can change to make things better. I don't tend to be outspoken politically online, but when when things have gotten to the point where this sort of thing is happening, and I personally fear for the life of a relative in a disaster exacerbated, if not caused, by climate change, you can rest assured that I'm not happy about where we are, how we got here, or the role of the Australian Government in making things worse. For people overseas, I'm sorry that our Government is setting such a bad example. [1] Former fire chiefs warn Australia unprepared for escalating climate threat. [2] Morrison's government on the bushfires: from attacking climate 'lunatics' to calling in the troops. [3] Scott Morrison brings coal to question time: what fresh idiocy is this?

Blue & Yellow | AoKise, G, 1.1k

Kuroko no Chapbook Series: A small collection of unrelated KnB fics written as part of an undergrad thesis class. Each was eventually printed and produced into original fiction as chapbooks.

Summary: Daiki and Ryouta play basketball together during middle school as each other’s partners. Once they graduate, they attend different high schools as rivals. The following vignettes portray how an author’s music library unravels the story of two boys falling in love and growing up.

Rules: 1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like. 2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle. 3. Write a ficlet/drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterwards! 4. Do ten eight of these, and then post them.

Read on Ao3

A/N: For Patrisha, who I have roped into my shenanigans countless times. I’m glad you enjoyed this birthday gift, friendo!<3  Un-beta'd and I apologize /o\

Track 1: Confession, Take #1 (Now Playing: Why Can’t I? – Liz Phair)

The reality is Daiki has no idea what he and Kise are doing. He ends up building a lot of things in his head.

They dance around each other for a long time. Daiki just wants to dive in headfirst and date Kise, but part of him is terrified of being rejected. It doesn’t stop him from making passes, trying to make an advance on his best friend and partner, but he’s never really sure where he stands with Kise.

It’s embarrassing, acting like a lovestruck school kid with a childish crush. He can’t breathe, loses his words, mind spinning out of control whenever Kise smiles at him, hugs him, tells him how good they are together.

It comes to a head when Daiki blurts out how in deep he is for Kise.

Kise answers him with a kiss.

Track 2: Confession, Take #2 (Now Playing: Today – Joshua Radin)

Their confession is nowhere near as cute as Ryouta thinks it could have been, but it’s perfect all the same.

Aomine brings him around the back corner of Touou when Ryouta visits one day, literally stopping just a few feet away from the dumpsters. Ryouta at least persuades him to move away from the garbage, towards a secluded corner next to a fence.

At first Aomine whispers his feelings, then he half-shouts them because Ryouta tells him he can’t hear him.

“I said I like you, idiot!”

Ryouta jumps onto Aomine, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck and pressing his lips against Aomine’s. Aomine’s arms flail a little before settling on Ryouta’s hips, and they sink into the kiss together.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

Track 3: Long-Distance (Now Playing: Running On Empty – Jojo)

They haven’t seen each other in almost a month now: too busy with school, basketball, general busy-ness of life.

Daiki misses him a lot.

He misses seeing the sun across the table when they share a booth at McDonald’s, his boyfriend beaming at him as they share a milkshake together like a gross, cliché couple in those romance movies that Satsuki makes him watch sometimes.

He misses feeling the warmth of Kise’s body in his arms when they embrace, clapping each other on the back, ruffling hair and fists bumping together.

When Daiki starts to run empty, he makes his way to Kaijo.

Kise falls into his arms the moment their eyes meet, and Daiki’s energy suddenly (finally) picks up again.

Track 4: At A Karaoke Club (Now Playing: What The Hell – Avril Lavigne)

Daiki never thought he’d be the clingy one between the two of them, but when he’s with Kise apparently he is.

What people say about wild models is true for both women and men, and his boyfriend is unfortunately not an exception. When they argue, Kise goes off flirting with others, enjoying himself in parties and social gatherings to annoy Aomine, until Aomine inevitably comes back crawling for forgiveness and wanting to make up.

They’re out for karaoke with mutual friends when it happens again. Kise messes with him by singing with every single person in the room except him.

Daiki finally has enough. When Kise finishes another song, he pulls his boyfriend out of the room by the collar. He rushes them down the hall far from all their friends to a dark corner before he makes out with his boyfriend within an inch of their lives.

Track 5: Growing Together (Now Playing: Never Be Alone – TheFatRat)

The beginning of their friendship was built from competition and constant antagonizing. It makes sense that their relationship is the same.

They clash, they yell, they argue, they bicker, they roughhouse. It’s what they do, him and Kise.

Does Daiki wish it were different? That sometimes he was the softer, kind guy Kise says he can be? Yes, sometimes, usually after they have a serious fight. Sometimes they don’t speak to each other for days, too stubborn to apologize first.

It doesn’t matter though, because the moment that Kise tells him that he needs him, Daiki is there. He’d sprint across the entire prefecture for Kise.

Track 6: Reunited Again (Now Playing: Dreams Don’t Turn To Dust – Owl City)

Beating Jabberwock together plants the seed in their minds. Syncing up and playing in the Zone with the other was the most alive they’ve ever felt.

When they graduate high school, they decide to attend separate colleges, opposing each other with the same youthful vigour as they did in high school. What confuses people is that they somehow manage to date throughout all four years. It’s hard, like any relationship is, and they go on multiple breaks because having your boyfriend as your athletic opponent is not easy, but they hold on.

Once they finish college, they go pro together, playing on the same national team and fulfilling the dream they’ve had since they were kids.

Track 7: Post-Basketball (Now Playing: Waves — DesandNate)

It takes a while for Ryouta to convince his boyfriend that they can use one of Ryouta’s planes to fly up together. He’s surprised that Aomine has a fear of flying, especially considering that Ryouta’s a certified pilot now, but they’ve always fit together in weird ways and this was no different.

Ryouta quadruple checks that everything is okay before he begins the lift-off process, but before long they’re driving down the airport runway. When they pick up speed, in his periphery he can see Aomine stiffening in his seat.

He pulls them high up into the sky, eventually gliding above the clouds.

“Woah,” Aomine whispers into his headset, and Ryouta smiles.

Track 8: Honeymoon (Now Playing: Save Me San Fransisco – Train)

They’re riding in Ryouta’s brand new car, a cherry red convertible because Daiki’s husband is exactly the type to be into that kind of thing. Daiki surprises himself because he doesn’t mind in the least.

They drive out of Tokyo, top down with the wind whipping through their hair. Whenever Daiki looks to his left, he sees Ryouta singing along with the radio, Ray-Ban shades reflecting the sunshine and open road ahead of them. Daiki can’t help but smile and sing-along.

It takes them a few days of on-and-off driving to arrive at their destination in Fukuoka, unlike if they had taken a bullet train like both their families insisted they do instead, but they wanted to this their way.

They get lost almost five times, even with the fancy GPS system built into the car. Half of the time is because they were bickering about something stupid and whoever was driving missed a turn, or got off the wrong exit, and they had to turn around and haul back fifty kilometres to correct their route.

But they make it all the way to the resort, satisfied and together.

Another.

TW CW: Rape, Violence against women, Murder, Language.

I wrote this personal essay the week after our comedy sister Eurydice Dixon was murdered. I wrote it to relieve my pent up grief and anger. Once written, I put it aside and didn’t look at it again. I never edited it or published it as I felt it was too triggering, and I also didn’t want to have to deal with the expected onslaught of overly defensive trolls. I have let only three people read it since, because they requested. But now another woman has been stalked in Melbourne, violently raped and left for dead, murdered in too similar a fashion to Eurydice’s horrifying ordeal - and also after a comedy gig - this time, an audience member. And I do stand by my words in this personal essay, so maybe it’s time for me to put it out publicly. God, if words can change something, please, let it be this scourge of violence. And to Aiia Maasarwe, her family and friends (especially her sister who will never be able to erase that FaceTime call from her mind), I am so sorry. I am so so sorry this happened. It shouldn’t have happened and I hope that one day we can stop these things from ever happening again. So here is the essay I wrote after Eurydice. It comes with a huge content warning. There is a shit ton of triggering stuff in here - violent language, assault, a massive amount of swearing and violent imagery. I am posting it because I feel it somehow needs to be posted, but please, do not go lightly into this read. Eurydice: She Must Have Been So Cold. She must have been so cold. She must have been so very, very cold.

. . .

When people talked about the vigil, their posts radiated a quiet warmth: the fire, the light of the candles, 15,000 people huddled together to light the way, warm thoughts of her, the heat that propelled a fresh resolve to never let this happen again.

But I was there. And it was fucking freezing.

The night was tipped to reach 3 degrees.

Perhaps in cities like Montreal, 3 degrees is a pleasant evening, but in Melbourne, we may as well have been standing in the tundra. I dressed for the occasion: thick down jacket, sensible boots, triple wrapped scarf, warm hat. One hand held a self-heating pouch and the other hand, a burning candle.

But after 2 hours, I was freezing. Despite all my clothes, despite the fact that I was standing up instead of laying on that cold mass of earth that she would have been laying on for hours, despite the radiant body heat of fifteen thousand people standing so close together, and despite the occasional holding of me by my comedy sisters. The 2 hours of silence only afforded me one thing – my own thoughts. And the thoughts that circled in my mind over and over and over again were, “she must have been so cold. She must have been so very fucking cold. Laying there on the ground in whatever state of dress he left her in. So cold.

And alone. So very fucking alone.

Her aloneness amplified by the darkness of the night.

When she needed us, her people, the most – when she needed anybody the most – she was alone and cold on the ground.

And scared. God. She must have been terrified.

Alone, cold, scared, and unable to move. Oh god. Oh god, Eurydice, oh my fucking god.

. . . . . . .

According to reports, Eurydice left the Highlander bar where she gigged at about 10.30pm. She was found 4.5km and 4.5 hours later. They tried to revive her. They couldn’t. I take that to mean that she was trying to hang on, angling to tough it out, struggling to persevere, for as long as she could. Cos she was a fighter, our Eurydice. When she went to war, her sword was a biting, clashing of wits, and when she connected, she cut deep and could slay with the best of them. What I knew of her, I liked enormously and immediately and I was drawn to her warmth and weirdness on stage. I should have made a bigger effort then to know her better in the time we had, but I too am a little socially withdrawn, building walls to protect myself. Plus, like most other comics, I am self-absorbed prepping my own material when I’m working. So, depending on my mood, it can take a while for me to truly let others in, even though you feel close to them. I guess I was waiting to get to know her better, to know her beyond the “Hi lovely, great spot tonight”, the “how’s the flyering going?” or the “how do you want me to introduce you” relationship that we had going on at that point. I knew a blossoming would eventually happen – it’s a tight community, people gig a lot together, and we get to know each other gradually – so I just waited for that more natural moment of closer friendship to grow when the time was right. What I thought I knew about having time ended up being wrong.

                                                           -------

He must have been cold. He must have been darn cold.  He must have looked at her and thought, “I bet she’s warm inside. I bet that vagina is warm. If I could get my cold dick inside that warm body, it will be nice and fucking warm. It’s 37 degrees inside that woman and I’m fucking cold. I’m going in and I’m gonna warm my ice-cold dick up inside that tropical beach holiday of a woman.” And he did. And he followed her for over 4 kilometres. God knows why he chose her, maybe it was because she looked so beautiful - happy and confidently glowing with the joy of a gig well done - but he did. He chose her. And while he warmed his dick up, she got colder and colder until the cold took over and she couldn’t live anymore. He stole her heat and he stole her away from us, the people who loved her, and who knew she was an important new voice with an important future in the world. He is a rapist and a murderer. And he’s also a thief.

I know that paragraph is awful. I have read it and reread it and it sickens me and I was the one who wrote it, and I want to cut it completely because it is so very triggering. But I can’t help but think it, and the only way to get it out of my brain is to get it onto a page. Because I am trying to make some kind of sense of all of this. And I can’t. I just can’t. The sense of absolute entitlement some men have to the inside of someone’s body is beyond my ability to comprehend. The sense of entitlement to the outside of someone else’s body is also beyond my comprehension, but to the inside – wow. Really. Just… Wow.

It’s INSIDE MY BODY!

INSIDE!

I have to sign legal documents before a SURGEON is allowed to go inside me and you think you can just GO INSIDE OF SOMEONE WILLY NILLY WITHOUT THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION??? Because YOU WANT TO GET YOUR DICK WARM???

NO! Go stick it in a microwave and stay out of my cunt. And this, this is where the anger, the rage, the utter fury of women begins to explode. THIS is where the tone shifts from grieving for our comedy sister to mobilising and becoming political. But to be fair, is this really political? It’s OUR LIVES AT STAKE. How is that political? It’s our own vaginas inside our own bodies that are routinely broken into and trashed.

How is that political?

How is rape political?

HOW?

How is rape even debatable? Which is the side that argues FOR rape? In terms of actual politics, yes of course you can put policies in place to help change the system. Help educate. Help eradicate entitlement from the top down. Politicians can actually help. But when women are literally crying because we can’t clean up the mess fast enough before someone else shoots their load into one of us again, we’re not trying to be political. We just want it to stop. That’s not politics. It’s a plea.

Because the genuine actual statistics is 1 in 5.

1 in 5 women have been raped.

ONE. IN. FIVE.

And they’re just the ones we know about. If you are a woman, you’re not UNlucky if you get raped. You’re LUCKY if you don’t.

So yes we are angry. We are furious.

But no, we’re not blaming all men. No we are NOT calling you all rapists. We are NOT. And we are NOT saying only women get raped. We are NOT.

Stop putting words into our mouths and watering down the message and HEAR THIS:

WE ARE SIMPLY ASKING MEN TO HELP US PUT OUT THE SPOT FIRES. WE ARE ASKING YOU TO HELP US CLEAN THE HOUSE. WE ARE ASKING YOU TO HELP US CARRY THE LOAD.

That’s all. We’re not telling you that you are all rapists and murderers. We KNOW you aren’t. A lot of us still choose you as our life partners because you are “good men” and we adore you.

It’s just that some other guy has come into our joint home, where we both live, and made a frightful mess. We’re now asking you to help us “clean the house”. We’ve so far been holding our tongues and cleaning the mess ourselves, because we’ve always been taught that it was women’s work to keep the house liveable and clean and locked up nice and safe. So we’ve finally said enough is enough, and we’d like some help please. Some of you had never seen the mess, didn’t know it existed or didn’t see the extent of it, and now that you see what needs to be done, or you are asking how you can help. That good. That’s great!

But some of you are saying “why should I clean that mess? I didn’t make it!” And you walk off happy in your expectation that because you aren’t a rapist (well done for being the bare minimum of expected human decency) it means you aren’t responsible for helping us change a culture that means some people feel entitled to break into our homes. “I didn’t do it, so why should I help?”

And I know that sentiment, because 25 years ago, I was exactly that teenager. I didn’t drop the eggs on the ground so why should I clean them up? Perhaps because my mum had done the work of noticing that we needed more eggs, gone to the shop, spent the money, brought them back, unloaded the groceries from the car, and was going to make dinner with them for us. So maybe, maybe, I could mitigate some of the work she needed to do which also BENEFITED ME by helping her clean up the eggs that she accidentally dropped. My mum was simply asking for help as she ran a household for 4 people and problem solved for us all. But I saw her as a nag. Each time she asked me to help, I labelled her as nag. Nag nag nag nag nag. What I never admitted was my own responsibility in it all - the only reason why she had to keep asking me over and over, was because I never bloody helped. I was an entitled little shit. I never cleaned up the eggs. I never even cleared the dishes. I didn’t care about mess so much because I never saw it. I didn’t see it, because my poor mother just got tired of asking and ended up doing it herself. All the time. Because she was tired of being labelled a nag.

What I never realised, was there IS NO SUCH THING AS A NAG. The nag is seen as a negative shitty personality trait, but nagging is not a personality trait, it’s a response. It’s a human response to people who wilfully ignore requests for help when it’s needed, because they feel entitled and are ultimately selfish, because they don’t see the bigger picture of what needs to be done for a healthy, safe home where everyone pulls their weight. When you refuse to help someone who asks for it, you give the asker only 2 options:

1.    to continue to ask you to help again and again 2.    to give up asking and just do it themselves

And that’s awful for both men and women. We are tired of carrying the load of some men’s entitlement over our bodies on our own. But to be honest, we don’t want to nag you. It’s boring for you and it’s boring for us. We are happy if you can finally see that there is a mess and start to help us clean it. We’re fine if you need to ask what to do, but when you stomp your feet and refuse to help because you “weren’t responsible”, you remind me of my teenage self, and I wonder why my mum didn’t just throw me out of the house to live on my own for a bit. You live in the house that is our society. We all live in it. It’s time to break down those gender roles of who is responsible for certain things and start all pitching in.

We KNOW there will always be the unpredictable psychopath here and there and we’ll never fix all the random violent acts, but we CAN try to limit the damage to the 5% of violent acts caused by those people. How amazing would that be?

Thing is beyond the 5% described above, there are a far greater number of men who just feel entitled. And if you don’t think they exist, let me present to you the very public example of Brock Turner. Turner is not psychologically damaged, he has simply lived a life of such great entitlement that he literally did not understand why he COULDN’T just take what he wanted. And then his entitlement got him a FURTHER reduced sentence of just 3 months, even after he had been found guilty, with witnesses there to see the crime. He must be feeling pretty darn smug.

But Turner is just the tip of the entitlement iceberg. There are plenty of men exactly like him. There are more men like Brock Turner who just take what they want because they feel they are owed it than the odd unbalanced person who suddenly decides to commit a violent random act. Quite frankly, the rise of the INCEL community should worry EVERYONE. Involuntary Celibate? Bullshit. No one owes you sex.

Now I am very aware of my hair trigger for sexism, I call out systemic sexist behaviour all the time and have lost friends due to it. Many of my women-folk mates have wisely told me to “pick my battles” because there are bigger things at play. And ostensibly I agree – you SHOULD pick battles. However, I see it as putting out spot fires before they turn into a raging front. And that’s where I see the discussion happening now – some men are asking how they can help put out the spot fires that grow into a bushfire.

Some men are asking how they can help clean our mutual house.

And it is THESE men who I want to live with. It is THESE men who I think will help change the world. It is THESE men who will start to call out disrespect for women when they hear it. It is THESE men who will help me maintain my home without me turning into a nag.

And it is THESE men who tend to get actual consent for sex from the women who love them – I initiate sex with one of these men all the time.

I’m not the teenager I once was. I’m a grown ass woman now and I refuse to accept “but I didn’t do it” as an excuse for not helping. Because I can see the bigger societal picture at the exact same time that I see the smaller picture – the picture that requires empathy – the one where I can cry for my comedy sister who lay there petrified, alone and freezing on that cold Melbourne winter night because some fuck stole her warmth for his dick.

The audacity to think you have the right to be inside of anyone you want. The sheer undeserved, unearned and unwelcome entitlement of that. To think your own sexual desire trumps the absolute right for someone to not have you burn her home to the ground, should be quite frankly unthinkable.

And if you’ve managed to get this far into this piece and yet still can’t empathise with how women walk through the world or empathise with our request for help to change the system, or you mock our strong reaction (“stop being political”) to the violent murder of our friend Eurydice Dixon, if you still can’t achieve empathy through your own imagination, go and lie down in a park for a bit and think it over.  

Lie there for at least 4 hours.

In the dead of a Melbourne winter.

On the cold ground.

Naked.

Do it alone.

At night.

And see if anyone gives a fuck.

On deliberately missing you

To my poetry, hear this piece of our symphony. Thank you for living with me. Thank you for the harmony. All hope fueled my fingers to push themselves to the keys of this piece of machinery, as I miss you, vividly. So be it.

On deliberately missing you

9th of May, 2020, 15 minutes of 3 in the afternoon.

Back in the 30th of October, year 2015, my wife wrote:

"You cannot keep me in a photograph. Or in your memory. I will eventually fade, you will eventually forget me."

I was here in my room, somehow full of this sweat, brought to me (exclusively, oh yes!?) by the weather (hello, May!), when I've read this, again.

Waking up from a two-hour nap, yes, yes, then checking my phone, she messaged me 48 minutes ago as I woke up at 2 in the afternoon. I went to the balcony to

view how the cloud is so dim, in a somehow, shining way. That's weird. How can something shine and be dim? I don't know, actually.

Anyway, into writing this, I must say, that there is something going on within me,and it's hard to conjure essays if you haven't been feeling things.

But I know, my love, you may be the only one to be reading this, please, don't fret, we are okay.

Let me fully express how much I miss you and how much of what you said 4-5 years ago felt deep into me.

By the time I write this, it is actually the tenth of May.

I just kissed my wife to sleep, and I'm here in front of my laptop, pushing keys again.

Much of things that happened to day will constitute this essay, you may start to wonder why I decided to continue at this moment. By the way, it's 3 minutes

to 2 in the morning, actually. There was a 10-11 hour break before I write again, right? Right! Here I go on.

Today went on, like water in the river. It flowed. Yet, it had a raging flow.

My heart was shattered into pieces, like my bones cracked again, while I was there, outside, upbringing a blue pail at my left arm. Just a side info, I don't

use my left arm in lifting things since it's not my dominant arm, that is a fact. But I have no choice. We are running out of time, I think so.

There was no water. And that thing made my stepmother so mad, that she literally made me mad too.

But how is this related into missing you? Hold on, my dearest. We shall come to that soon. In line with that, I have plenty of time to write despite of my

eyes telling me to shut my eyelids, "hey we need to rest!" they shouted (of course that's not physically true LOL), but you get the idea, that's all we need.

I need to fill up 6 containers, and I think, I'll be done with that 1-2 hours from now. Hence, we shall continue!

Eight minutes at 2 in the morning, here I write again.

That's true. I can't keep you in a photograph. I don't want that either, for I want to keep you by my side, here, in my life.

That sounds cheesy eh? Yieeeee is the term to use, even though I'm not sure where that expression come from. Doesn't matter, but you do. Yieeeee!

Alright, now, Ian, FOCUS! Going back, I like taking pictures of you. Pictures, in a description (not true to all, 'coz we have advances in technology

nowadays) are just pieces of paper, with an organized splatter of ink, I guess. But for me, it has more of a value when "who" was made into a picture by that

splatter of ink. If that would depict a loved one, it means much more, what if it is you? Now, it means the most.

I can't keep you in a photograph, but we can keep ourselves there, in a peaceful scenery. Such beauty to find solace in your company.

My love, I can't keep you in a photograph, but can we keep each other? I want to keep you.

In my mind, I forged more cabins to be filled with you and me. I guess this is what water made me do.

It made me flow, it made me write my way into you. Like a river, flowing, like the clock, ticking, I'll be here, waiting.

Water. Now, it's eight minutes since I wrote the time again, eight minutes of those words, above. Hear me out, my love.

Into deliberately missing you, here I say, "you will not eventually fade", since I won't let you.

What am I trying to say? You know what, I'm glad you chose to stay. Now all I can say, is thank you, my love. Thank you for everyday.

Gratitude continually fills up within me like water from the mountains, going down through the river, flowing to the sea.

Now I understand thee, as you're a from the heavens, from above. Indeed, a heavenly body.

This is not a poem, I think? But I can't help myself to rhyme, my words, I want them to value, as you are more valuable than any dime.

Now, to tell you once more, "you will not fade", and I tell you so, and I won't let you. Water flows, but it stays too. Like me, to you.

I won't tell water that to be stagnant, of course. For water that stays, have a purpose. Yes, stagnant water can nourish life too! Oh no, I'm not trying to

tell how important stagnant water for mosquito larvae to be craddled in, HAHAHAHA! Hmmmmm how about lakes? That's a good idea! Water stay too in our cells!

That's why you're alive! Keep hydrated, my dearest.

You will not fade, and please don't. I trust you with that. I love you!

There maybe times that I may forget about you, but that doesn't mean that I will let it to happen, eventually. Here we go to the last statement. I will not

eventually forget you. Why is that so? It is because I won't let myself to do that, and I like not to forget you. Because to tell you frankly, I would like

to name you as the reason why my memory existed, and here, in my mind, you've always persisted.

I made you a house in my brain, that I've connected to any part of my life, as you are, the partner of my life. And into deliberately missing you, even

though you are miles away from me, and I'm kilometres away from you, you are in my mind, and I think of you, every time.

Yieeee is the term, I love you is the phrase. Here I deliver my thoughts, in so many ways, "I love you", and that, I always desire to say.

Tirelessly, endlessly.

35 minutes, at 2 in the morning, here I am, deliberately missing you. Here again, I write to you.

I was looking in the water while it steadily go out of the faucet, minutes ago, and yes, I think I need to sleep. Should I sleep? Hmmmmmmm why do I feel I

need to write more? If I can make a jet-pack out of my words, well, I'll be flying to you, and I'll be there with you. Suddenly I started to feel your hug

again, is this your soul, in astral projection, my love?

Should I sleep so that I can start dreaming, and then in the dream lair we can start dating, again? Pleaseeeeee all of the ways that can be conjured!

Dr. Stephen Strange! please conjure the parallel worlds! I believe we both transcend through space and time.

Now I'm going crazy, I think, I think.

Anyway, here I end, this piece of writing, with a revision of what you've said back then.

"You cannot keep me in a photograph, for I want you to keep me in you. In your memory I live, in our home, we thrive. At night the sun may eventually fade,

at morning the moon will do so too, but not us, for we love each other true. I love us, I love you."

Here I write, back in my room, as 45 minutes past 2 in morning, this paper is due.

and why? do I write this too? the reason, is I'm deliberately missing you.

This is still not a poem!

to my poetry, hear this piece of our symphony. Thank you for living with me. Thank you for the harmony.

~ ji (5/10/2020 ; 2:48 AM)

Marc Antony and Mercury expect terms to be met by Friday. 3 days says Mercury. Possibly by Friday says Marc.

So then listen. Stay inside.

We have 3 more planets along with planet Zulululu.

2 said "just kill them we don't want them"

2 others said they want their dead. So Marc and Team said they would send by air to certain meeting place. Marc warned them if they didn't find it acceptable there would be no war. He and I will kill the rest and they won't get any bodies at all and we will evaporate what we gave.

Beggars can't be choosers.

I will destroy a fucking planet that pisses me off. I'm very good at giving blind explosions of what is deserved. Sometimes they get good shit. Sometimes i blow up and destroy shit.

And so they are asking for something in my opinion don't deserve. Dead bodies? Fuck you. Youre lucky it was Marc. Im beyond pissed. But I'll let him do what he wants then I'll destroy shit cause i can.

I'm fucking pissed about this shit.

So yall Just stay inside. Don't get kidnapped. Don't get beaten up. Don't get molested. Don't get raped. Don't let an alien peep in your shower when you're nude and wet and soapy.

And just be extra cautious for the next 3 weeks.

This Friday he should be done with Mercury.

Then he will do each of the 4 planets one at a time.

After each planet is supposed to be complete he will wait 1 to two days to ensure everything is going well before he starts on the next task

He will make sure that Tree details y'all about progress.

So a total of 5 planets are left.

Now Mars is picking up its "sexual studs" trees are watching very closely and other than Mars our atmosphere is clear of aliens.

After all the 5 planets are completed we will then attack any UFO that enters our atmosphere.

And kill it. They're all on warned. So.

6 billion UFO are 900 billion kilometres away from the atmosphere of Earth. Not the land but the highest cloud/air layer we have.

They are Just spectators. 726 million UFOs are prepared to protect our planet with warnings and/or violence.

They are the closest to our atmosphere. As they have learned so much regarding aliens and relationships from Eaerth. So for their appreciation and desire to watch more progress we benefit from their love.

Still we will watch and protect. And even so.

Follow Quarentine.

Marc Antony has told Tree and asked him to write the underlying most important points of the reasons of Quarentine. And tree has also filled in the blanks. So. That is pinned up. So it's all about being at the top for your sake and ease.

So focus on those things. 85 points and reasons to focus on. How to retrain our minds. Allot of good information. We all really need

So remember to laugh at the memes i reposted two tonight.. One made Marc Antony really laugh - the gorilla. And the joke about the woman eating cats made me laugh more but he laughed too. I was worried about the Gorilla. Where was he? Did someone take care of him? Was he just playing?

But I appreciated the joke. I thought it was cute and I know at zoos that is actually a normal behavior.

Unfortunately...

Some people after 3 weeks pass. Will lose their animals. Some are possessed by aliens. There are 782,569,857 planets that will have their creation returned to them and possessing aliens will die.

What happens is an alien will share a body with an animal. Its prohibited and all planets know.

Then there is oysters. Which will be all dumped in the most luxurious of neighborhoods like it is a landfill.

Zebras. Ostrich. Orangutans. Chihuahua dogs (he literally sheds a tear. We know so many love that breed. But we will try to help you after your loss). Prarie dogs -- which we found dead in the yard todsy as a death threat against me. My 16 year daughter found it and pointed it out. So i loooked and asked it what it wanted and it said nothing. So i said don't look at me with your beady little eye which made my kid laugh. It was a bloody wet mess. Fuck y'all. I ain't scared I'll shove dead and living ones up your ass. Fredrick's grandma's best friend's daughter. Try a claw trying to come out your ass hole. Bitch. Coward bitch at that.

Some snakes like rattle. Coral. Most poisionous. No one would claim the King Cobra for example but they are part of a historical culture so we will save them for their owners as the poison is very hard to eject because it's midway down the body and not in teeth or head. We didn't know but I asked tree and he says it was a competitive snake Christopher Columbus made. He said please don't bully him. I have one on my wrist. So they are the ones that dance.

Grass snakes are made by Mercury as an apology. They will take.

We want only what Earth created. Its not about the apology we have enjoyed and used them for billions of years. So we gift them back as a thank you.

So they remember their sorrow in killing Cleopatra and Jesus 20 years later. (Me)

And as a request to please leave us alone in the future. They also made a poisonous snake called the Goldan Coerel. We eradicated it in the 1970s after it killed a sleeping infant. We just killed them all. They were mostly in Vietnam.

Dingo in Australia are not ours. But hey kangaroo is!!!

Rabbit is not. We will replace with either ducks or a chimpanzees. Or both. We use a distinct intuition. Like Santa Claus. Literally.

Like how i find space ships to blow up.

Now ALL animals are trained to use the toilet. And are infants. They come with a special cabinet and 1 year supply of food. And play toys and so on.

Chihuahua are replaced with chimps and/or a dog breed of choice.

There is a website you can type your animal into.

You can type your address like if you're like my dog is a mutt Idk how to find out... Well you put your address.

A Chihuahua of 25% breed and more will go

So if you have a small dog with only 3% Chihuahua. It stays.

Putting in the address allows you to create a family link. So you want a chimp. You pick the color.

So mom wants Orange

Dad brown orange.

Daughter 1 wants electric yellow.

So then tree will review... And make a bright orange with yellow when the hair is brushed a certain way and the brown like streaks

So he will decide and inform your family in the link then you can have other options.

If you don't preorder he will surprise you which he really likes to do.

So that is about 5 weeks away. You'll board the ship and say good bye. You may drive with them to the dock to drop off

All other animals stay home under Doctor Tree care where he trains it to use potty and speak and eat at the table,using fork ans spoon.

I have a list of 57 items that must be trained to each animal by tree. Now you can specify "no I do not want my dog asking more than 2x to borrow/drive car. In one day or 1 full trip on errands, or family road trip" otherwise he csn ask 35 times. But it's fun. He will sulk. Get angry. Beg happily. "Well I'll beat you up if You won't let me drive!!" "I hate the back seat why wont you let me drive?? I don't care. I don't wanna know. I just wanna Drive. Seesh parents don't understand anything!!"

So realize he may be speaking feelings but mostly its just acting and playing. Its a Trick or Treat.

Just yo Keep things lively. Fun. Kids will laugh and learn bullying and threatening does not work. They love it even teenagers.

Its play acting to develop healthy psychological prograss. So remember manners and don't let him drive because he intimidated or annoyed you. Unless you say trick or treat and have a family discussion

When he is violent in asking to drive he will have offensive driving skills. Fast and digging through traffic. And road rage m which is hilarious!

If you say yes to "but I'm an old gramma i know how to,get there m don't take away my rights I'm a perfect driver and omg watch out, just kidding." He will be super cautious and double checking. Driven 6-10 mph under the speed limit.

Its fun. Tree will train it to be humaneyezed.

So he will give advice. Like "watch the fuck out!" In road rage mode. While granny will say "hey there little dearies you almost wrecked. Slow it down buster"

My pill is saying time to sleep.

3-5 weeks to spend with your pet before we evacuate.

Backpacking Escapes: Siem Reap

Siem Reap. A backpacker’s dream and our last stop after 50 days of traveling. Of course the big attraction of this city to tourists is the temples, particularly Angkor Wat. For our first day we rented bicycles for $1 a day as suggested by a blog Rachel had read. All I can say is dear God I’m impressed if they actually managed to actually cycle all 3 circuits in 2 days without melting. With a proper dirt bike I may have been able to, although I would be very tired after a grand total of approximately 150 kilometres. But honestly what killed us was the heat. I’d recommend bringing A LOT of water or at least some money for the street vendors (who thank goodness sell ice cold water for normal prices instead of trying to rip you off. Absolute life savers).

We cycled the small circuit; a total of 43 kilometres in 36*C heat on the most rickety bikes I’ve ever seen. Even though I was a bit stiff by the end of the day I sti enjoyed this experience. The highlights of this route include Ta Prohm (accurately nicknamed Indiana Jones or Tomb Raider temple) with some spectacular Strangler Figs engulfing the doorways. I love how despite all the restoration and conservation efforts, they have haven’t pushed the jungle completely back. This keeps the mysterious forgotten world aura surrounding these temples in tact.

Srah Srang was once the 'Royal Bathing Pool' for ritual bathings. It was so perfect I just couldn’t resist dipping my feet in, much to Rachel’s amusement as she watched in confusion as I suddenly threw my shoes off saying “Why not?!”.

Bayon Temple is so drastically different to all the other temples that it is somewhat curious to explore. It originally had 49 towers; today 37 towers remain with almost 200 faces carved facing in 4 directions. Despite its slightly cluttered feel, this temple was mysterious and beautiful in the evening golden light.

Angkor Thom means ‘city centre' and is actually the collective name for the area including the Terrace of the Elephants and Terrace of the Leper King. Make sure to fully explore these areas, particularly between the inner and outer walls as there are many wonderful carvings that are still well preserved down here. See if you can find the 5 headed horse, the elephants and the 5 headed Nagas.

Our final adventure for our first day here was our “shortcut” home. And by “shortcut” I mean Google maps told us there was a road running down to join the riverside track. In reality this was a very narrow dirt path winding through the jungle, then along a road that was more pot holes than actual road through the village-like outskirts of Siem Reap. On the bright side I’m fairly sure we were the highlight of the day for many many children who all rushed out to say to hello to us as we passed by, then sprinted back inside to tell their parents about the strange girls. Honestly I’ve never said hello so many times in such a short space of time – it was so endearing 😊. The people here are so friendly, warm and open.

Angkor Wat sunrise is probably the number one thing you’ll hear people recommend, for a very very good reason. I mean, just look at this beauty:

I don’t think words are even necessary; these photos speak volumes for themselves. No filters - that's just genuinely what it looked like. Yes it meant dragging ourselves out of bed at 4.30am but at least today we’d had the sense to book a Tuk Tuk driver for $12 each who took us to Angkor Wat for sunrise, then to all the way out to Banteay Srei (which by the way is worth the journey away from the city. It's only a small temple but it has a wild beauty around it and the grounds are also lovely), then finally around the Grand Tour of Angkor.

Another major advantage of getting up early meant we had a lot of the temples to entirely ourselves. Literally Queens of Backpacking ❤️

For our day off we decided to simply wander. Something about the twisting streets screams 'explore me' and it has one of the best vibes we’ve had from any city. It is quirky and interesting, and the people are so lovely. We decided to walk towards the riverside and stumbled upon an old map for the 'Historical Quarter Walk' which held a view interesting sights.

Before long we arrived at the Royal Gardens Park, nicknamed Bat Park for a very good reason. We flopped on a bench in the shade for a quick drink and both had the same sudden almost simultaneous moment of realisation. Rachel’s jaw dropped as I gasped 'Holy cow...'. Looking up we realised the trees were full of hundreds and hundreds of fruit bats hanging from the branches.

Having found our own little peaceful corner watching these bats occasionally flutter from tree to tree, we spent the rest of the afternoon lounging here. The park is very quiet and sleepy during the day but wakes up in the evening. Apparently if you want an outdoor Zumba class this is the number one place to go. We passed 3 on our way out of the park.

Another highly recommended activity I’d found on Pinterest was the Happy Horse Ranch. Another 5 gold stars to Pinterest – this was BRILLIANT. We’d started going into animal withdrawal so a three hour hack seemed to be the perfect cure. This is the best way we’ve come across to see the picturesque countryside. Endless fields of rice plantations and lotus flowers stretched out all around us. There’s nothing quite like feeling of wind running through your hair as you canter through such a peaceful gorgeous place. And to top it off all the horses here looked happy and healthy. This place easily gets a 10 out of 10 and I’d gladly go again. Our guide (Kong) was very friendly & helpful, the views spectacular and the horses perfectly matched to our experience levels (a.k.a. we can both handle a slightly fizzy spooky horse, personally it makes the ride more enjoyable than plodding along on an old cob! Even if it is slightly more difficult to shimmy past a water buffalo threatening to charge at you when you’re also trying to persuade your horse it’s absolutely fine if she just keeps on walking).

Artisans Angkor was simply an incredibly lucky break. We’d been googling free things to do in the city when I came across a brief mention of this silk workshop around the corner from our hostel. It ended up being so much more – by simply turning up at the door you get a free guided tour around the workshop where they make wooden carvings, stone carvings, silver inlays, jewellery and some stunning silk garments. You really get an appreciation for the amount of skill and how long it takes to make these masterpieces. Some of the stone sculptures take 4 months to complete. The tools they used are recycled from old motorbike and tuk tuk springs. These artisans also help with the restoration of the Angkor temples, recreating some beautiful statues based on the original designs. During your tour you may even get to try carving yourself (then realise how hard it is and watch amazed as the guy turns your scribble into a masterpiece).

The next day we returned to the workshop to get the free shuttle bus for another free tour (I love that Asia is cheap, but free is even better ❤️), this time around the silk farm itself. Hats off to whoever first looked at a cocoon made by a worm and thought “You know what? I bet that will make a really nice fabric”. I learnt so much here and it didn't cost us a penny. Artisans Angkor use over 60% of their sales income to give back to the local community and provide so many people with jobs & support. Definitely high up on my recommendations list. It's such a shame more people don't know about this. Go go go people.

And that's it....

The end of my Backpacking Escapes series. For now at least! Thanks to the fellow travellers I've met along the way I've now got a list of new places to visit and things to try as long as my arm, and I can't wait for more adventures. South East Asia has truly been a dream, and I would say it's been a once in a lifetime trip - but how can it be when I'm so in love and so desperate to come back?! I'm certain this won't be my last visit to Asia, but rather the first of many.

Bon voyage for now my friends! I've got a couple more blog posts planned but it's time to go home. To those of you still travelling make the most of every moment! And those of you who aren't....

What are you waiting for??

When I signed up to do the Wye Valley challenge, part of my reason for it was to take some life lessons away that could be applied to real life. Of course, I wanted to raise money for charity, and I’m glad to say that I did. But I also wanted to come out of this experience a better person than when I started. Thankfully, I believe that’s the case. So here are a few things I learned from attempting, and ultimately failing, an ultra challenge.

Lessons Learned from Attempting an Ultra Challenge

1. Don’t Allow Your Ego to Take Over

As soon as the Wye Valley challenge started I wanted to keep up with those who were going for it. I’ll be honest, I allowed my ego to get the better of me. I had no business trying to keep up with joggers, but I wanted to do this ultra challenge as fast as I could. Not only that but I didn’t want anyone to overtake me. Stopping to enjoy a scenic moment, grab something from my bag or stay too long at a check point was time being wasted. In short, I was an idiot.

Just like everything else in life, you need to do things at your own pace without looking over at what others are doing. I learned that lesson not long ago when it comes to the blog. But for some reason I didn’t take that lesson and apply it here. If I ever attempt an ultra challenge again – and there’s a strong chance that I will, sorry Rachel – I’ll learn to take my time and not let my ego trip me up.

2. Everyone Struggles

What doing something like an ultra challenge does is very plainly show you that everyone struggles. I quit at the 74km mark because I was struggling to put too much weight on my right foot. It was blistered, swollen, sore as hell and seemingly incapable of doing another 26km. But I’m positive that I wasn’t the only person who that statement was true for.

Seeing other people visibly struggle puts your own struggle into perspective. It prevents the “woe is me” feeling and you know that you’re not alone. This is something that can easily translate to every day life. I know I’ve not been the only person who’s struggled with depression. Obviously. But I know, if I’m in a bad way, I can look back on something like an ultra challenge and remind myself that it’s not just me finding something difficult. There are others out there too going through a very similar thing.

3. Reduce Your Time frame when struggling

When you find yourself confronted with an immense amount of struggle, it’s very hard to try and look too far into the future. I started to have a lot of pain around my ankles somewhere around the 20km mark of this challenge. I had worn shoes that better suited jogging or a shorter distance, so was unprepared for a drawn out, arduous terrain that the challenge presented. Again, as mentioned above, I’m an idiot. There’s a theme here.

But all I did was reduce my time frame. I didn’t allow myself to contemplate the finish line, and instead reduced it down to the next check point. Eventually that dropped down to the next kilometre. And eventually, I simply focused on counting my breaths and using long, deep breathing as a form of pain relief – I had lost my medical bag, and with it my painkillers, around the 45k mark, another example of me being an idiot.

This is something you can take into everyday life. When you’re struggling, don’t look too far ahead. Try and find something else to focus on. Think about how you might be able to get through the day, embrace the next hour, or even the next five minutes. And whilst I’m on the topic of embracing five minutes:

4. Take 5 Minutes to Embrace a Moment

This is something I wish I did more of during this challenge. At one point, whilst the path was meandering it’s way through the forest, there came a clearing that looked out for miles to the towns and valleys below. It was stunning. Instead of taking five to rest my feet and embrace the view, I simply put my foot down to get in front of those who were ‘dawdling’. Ironically those same people likely passed me when I quit. There’s a reason the tortoise wins the race, and something like this is part of that reason.

There were countless times when I saw something during this challenge worthy of my time and attention. Take for example these two moments:

One is just a tree in the middle of a field, and the other is me seemingly sat in the middle of the Wye river. The first photo actually holds a much deeper meaning than you’d expect, and I’ll talk about that on a blog post of it’s own for a #MySundayPhoto – that’s what you call a tease.

But the other was me trying to enjoy a moment amidst the chaos of the challenge. Rather than actually sit there for five minutes and enjoy the scenic place I found myself in, I just used the time to change my socks and sort my feet out. It wasn’t necessarily a bad use of my time, but a check point was literally two minutes away. I should’ve just enjoyed the moment and took five minutes to sit down and do nothing.

That’s one of my bigger takeaways from all of this. It doesn’t matter how bad the struggle you find yourself in actually is, you can find five minutes to embrace a single moment. Whether that’s sitting out in the garden at night looking up at the stars, just feeling the warmth of the sun on your face or simply playing with a dog or a cat for a few minutes.

5. There’s Nothing Wrong with Failure

I’m going to talk a bit more about this in the upcoming Dad Diaries post – another excellent tease – so I’ll keep this point short. At the end of the day I failed this challenge. Yes it was good getting to 74km, but I still fell short of the finish line. Either way you cut it, that’s a failure.But it’s ok to fail.

I would much rather fail at trying a challenge that was too difficult than easily succeed at one that was too easy.

It’s not a nice feeling when you fall short of something you wanted to achieve, but it shouldn’t put you off from trying. I’ve failed a good number of times throughout my life, but that’s never put me off giving something a go. As long as you reflect on what happened and you’re honest with yourself, you’ll always be able to take failure and use it as fuel to improve. Who knows, maybe this time next year I’ll be talking about how I succeeded in finishing what I started. I guess we’ll have to wait and see!

Thanks for reading this. I’m not sure if there’s anything you can personally take away from any of this. But I certainly learned something from this experience. Also, if you want to donate to this challenge, which fair enough if you don’t – I did fail after all – then you can donate here.

IF YOU WANT TO FOLLOW MORE FROM THE BLOG THEN I’M USUALLY QUITE ACTIVE ON FACEBOOK, OCCASIONALLY POSTING ON TWITTER AND DOING A BUNCH OF INSTAGRAM STORIES.

I recently took part in the Wye Valley challenge and failed. But I still managed to learn quite a lot from the experience. Here's what I learned from attempting an ultra challenge. When I signed up to do the Wye Valley challenge, part of my reason for it was to take some life lessons away that could be applied to real life.

Let me tell you a story…

17 days 3500 kilometres 1 motorcycle 5 states and a million memories.

Day 1: Delhi to Chandigarh

Sonal was more than excited for the journey, less she knew that intercity ride was gonna be the most frustrating of the lot.

Day 2: Chandigarh to Manali 

When you meet the mountains, rivers, rains, greens, bridges, offroading, tranquillity and exhausted riders you while you hear people yelling bhaiji at every corner, you know it’s Himachal… Welcome to the Himalayas…

Day 3: Manali

You know she is not perfect, you know she has her flaws, you know there are better ones out there but you know she is the only one you can trust, so get her what she deserves and prepare her for what’s to come. Your life depends on her…

Go visit this place: Garage 73 if you are ever in Manali.. they rent motorcycles and also have some badass mechanics… Got the accelerator cable tweaked, minor repairs and raised the suspension for it was carrying a load of 200+ kgs.

Day 4: Manali to Keylong

Rohtang la, one the most beautiful and exploited passes in India, literally welcomes you to the mighty Himalayas. it’s green and fresh, with waterfalls, flowers, honey bees, breathtaking views and fantastic roads. We could feel the change in air, colour, temperature and personalities on the other side. People seem cut off from the materialistic world and are more than happy to see bikers, cyclists and hikers on the road and offer you excellent home cooked food.

Do have local Mutton curry and a cup of tea in Sissu! And FUEL UP AT TANDI!

Day 5: Keylong to Pang.

Crossed Baralachala, Gata loops, Nakeela, Lachungla,3 lakes, whiskey nala, Sarchu and Jispa.

The insane cocktail of offroad, tarmac, water crossings, hairpin bends, blind curves, jaw-dropping heights, jumps, shortcuts, potholes, trucks, sub-zero temperatures and acute mountain sickness will give you hangover for life…

Day 6: Pang to Leh.

I had to click the quintessential More plains picture. Believe me, he feeling of reaching this part and riding on this awesome road is just overwhelming.. crossing Tanglang la was fun, cold and smoother than expected…

The milestone that welcomes you to Ladakh, seeing the first petrol pump, first mechanic, badass army vehicles, mobile signals, increasing temperature etc. give a mixed feeling of comfort and uneasiness. No wonder people flee to Nubra, Pangong and other secluded areas asap. Like we did…

Do not, I repeat, do not rip on more plains no matter how much the roads tempt you. It’s a trap!

Day 7 : Leh.

First things first…. Relax and get your bike checked.

Then have thukpa, sleep, buy some dry fruits, buy a map, have butter tea, sleep, have some coffee, plan your ride, meet some awesome people, have some more tibetian food, post some cards, have some apricots, mark the places you want to visit, plan to rest one more day, feel it’s too loud, feel it’s too crowded, F it,change of plans, fuel up, pack up, saddle up, Run to the hills….

  Day 8: Leh to Hundar (Nubra Valley)

I never tied them prayer flags on my bike… I waited for 14 long years since I started riding to finally do that. At K top, she finally dereved them and I kept the flags on throughout the journey.. I don’t know why but I felt the flags give a sense of security and calm while riding. Post Khardungla the twisties will make your head spin and trust me when I write, you will pray for a straight stretch of tarmac… Every turn is a bling curve and they demand every bit of your attention. It may get really tiring especially if you are riding solo… But then Nubra….. It’s Valhalla!! Just visit this heaven. If you have already, go again! 

  Day 9: Nubra to Leh

Nubra valley is just paradise.. a lot of people suggested not to go beyond Ktop as there is nothing much to see. So glad we decided to ride ahead and stay at such a magnificent place. It is the most peaceful place I have ever been to. Do not miss this, in fact go ahead and stay at Turtuk…

With mountains on both sides, lush green valley in the middle, clean and pure rivers flowing calmly, wild animals, grasslands, white sands and cold breezes, believe me when I write… Nubra is like the palm of God holding an oasis of life…

Tip: watch the sunrise from Diskit Monastery, it’s breathtaking!

Day 10: Leh to Pangong Tso

Believe me, the path to Pangong Tso is to die for. It is via the mighty Chang la (never underestimate this one), waterfalls, rivers, gorgeous valleys, water crossings, grasslands, wild animals, crazy altitude variations and much much more… and the first sight of the lake takes your breath away.. Tip 1: stay overnight at the lake and do not rush to Spangmik. You will have to compromise on food but the views and silence at the lake are worth it.  Tip 2: you will see excellent night skies, the best in your trip but carry a heavy duty tripod as it’s extremely windy (and cold) at night. Tip 3: reach the place before 4 pm as it gets difficult to cross water streams afterwards.. 

Day 10: Leh to Pangong Tso

It is not easy to reach, but is the most beautiful lake I have ever seen. Every kilometre, every pothole, every river stream, every landslide, off-roads, sub zero temperatures, headaches, mountain sickness…. Everything makes the place more special.. Night sky and incredible wildlife at this place is mesmerizing…

Day 11: Pangong Tso to Leh.. Mud, Grease and tar… Rivers, lakes and mountains, Some sheep, ducks and yakyakyakyakyakyakyak…

  Day 12: Leh (Rest)

We thought it would be rest day, but rode 265 kms anyway… I realised when I came back that there is so much to see around Leh, Monasteries, mountains, passes, rivers etc. but the most fascinating of them all are the ROADS.. Hats off BRO. So much effort and so little appreciation. BRO-FORCE you are awesome…

Day 13: Leh to Kargil

The road to Kargil is easy and smooth but breathtaking. Lot of Monasteries and landmarks along the way make the journey longer….

We were riding towards civilization which was the only downside, literally.

Tip: The road is Butter smooth, which makes it equally dangerous, be careful on those twisties..

Day 14: Kargil to Srinagar

Kashmir is truly a heaven on Earth.. and ironically the most peaceful ☮️ place I have

ever been to…

Day 15: Srinagar to Jammu

It’s the most terrible stretch of road I’ve ever riden on… It’s painful to even remember this 300 km stretch .

  It was under construction and took us over 13 hours to reach Jammu. On the bright side, The Patnitop tunnel is excellent and in the next 3 years it would turn into a highway…

Day 16: Jammu to Chandigarh

The roads are beautiful, lush green surroundings and most importantly a lot of road side dhabas… The aweful feeling of leaving the mountainous behind sets in slow as the road becomes less curvy and more boring, We were shit scared as Dera protests also happened the same morning and we were heading towards Chandigarh/Panchkula. Also when I doubt, sit on the road and plan it out..

Day 17 : Chandigarh to Gurgaon

Riding back is always stressful and tiring, but eventually you have to get back to life. Infact, this mundane city life makes you appreciate the mountains even more.. you look back and realise how lucky and blessed you are for not taking much damage enroute..

We were happy and proud, and we wore the Tshirts, and rested our buttocks for a few months..  Stay tuned for more…

#gorlagarage #rotrods

Let me tell you a story... 17 days 3500 kilometres 1 motorcycle 5 states and a million memories.

<strong>Niagara Women's Half Recap: The Race That Could Be Great</strong>

My newest post has been published on https://thelazy.me/2017/06/13/niagara-womens-half-recap-the-race-that-could-be-great/

Niagara Women's Half Recap: The Race That Could Be Great

I have a done a handful of races that I would never do again because there was literally no hope for them! There are also a lot of races I would do multiple times because I loved them! The Niagara Women’s Half Marathon falls into a category of its own: a race I want so badly to love but find irritating for so many reasons. This is a race that could be amazing but just hasn’t quite figured out a few things! 

The Niagara Women’s Half prides itself on being a race for women that celebrates our empowerment. Can’t find much wrong with that right?

Earlier this year I was asked to be an ambassador for this race and quickly agreed as I knew the course was great! I started promoting the race and even convinced my friend Trudy to fly here to run it and thought of what a fun weekend I was going to have with so many of my friends signed up.

A couple months before race day some behind the scenes things started to happen and the online leadership/prescence for the race changed hands. I started to see bizarre pictures posted with inappropriate comments made back to the women who questioned the posts or asked questions about the race. I became really frustrated as I thought about the message of empowering women that the race was supposed to be putting out versus the message I was seeing presented online. The ambassadors were never communicated with from that point & I wasn’t sure what was going on as there was seemingly no longer anyone in charge.

I contemplated dropping out of the race completely & even emailed the race director twice to have my name removed. I never received a reply of any sort and two weeks before the race my name was still on the list. Trudy had purchased flights so I decided to try to ignore the underlying issues I had with the race and focus on having a good time with one of my best friends. Niagara Falls holds special meaning to Trudy & I was more than happy to run the beautiful course with her! I had not trained for the race distance, so I knew having fun needed to be the priority!

Trudy & I drove up to Niagara Falls on Saturday and picked up our race kits. As we waited in line Trudy remarked to one of the volunteers how efficient the women were & how quickly the pickup was going. The volunteer immediately said, “Wait until you see the race shirts though. The race director is a man and I told him that the shirts were too low cut, but he wouldn’t listen.” We laughed but also talked about it later. How sad that a race supposedly dedicated to empowering women is led entirely by men. There are no women making decisions for this women’s race! 

After kit pick up we headed to our hotel after a quick stop at Shoppers Drug Mart to buy breakfast food (because apparently I forgot that I would need to eat before the race!) and met up with Nancy there before heading to dinner! Kate met us for dinner as well and we had a great time hanging out and eating before heading to bed for the night. 

Niagara Women’s Half is known for their race kits because they always contain a bottle of wine along with a bunch of other goodies. This year we got sparkly eyeliner, nail polish, Chapstick, Epsom salts & some other items. 

Race morning was easy breezy as we dressed and headed out really early. It was already raining & obviously we were very excited to run in the rain! We were parked 300 metres from the start with an hour and a half to spare. (I like to be early in case you didn’t know!) Trudy and I ate our breakfast, put on some makeup, took pictures and took a trip to the gender coloured bathrooms: blue for boys & pink for girls. 

Inside were flowers and fuzzy toilet seat covers. We headed back to car to hide out until the start. 

A few minutes before the start we headed back out into the rain, made one more bathroom stop where we found Kate & got into the corral. The start was delayed for some reason & I really just wanted the race director to stop talking! It was rainy & gross & no one can ever hear the announcements before a race anyhow! Finally the countdown went off & we headed across the start line. I yelled at Trudy to GO because she had a goal & I didn’t want to hold her back! 

I wasn’t trained for this race & wont even pretend that I was. The longest I had run since January was 7.8k during my first Ragnar leg in May. I decided to test out a 4 minute run/1 minute walk plan and that’s exactly what I did. 

I felt stupid walking before we even hit the first kilometre but I was determined to stick to my plan. I listened to my music, thought how this was probably a really dumb idea, watched all the other runners & just kept plodding along. 

Around 6k I really started wondering at my sanity & then at 8k I gave myself a little pat on the back for running my farthest distance all year. 

I saw a man running with Ragnar calf sleeves on so I ran up to him and asked if he had run Ragnar Niagara. He had so I grinned like a total weirdo and said, “ME TOO!” Obviously we were now best friends. 

I took water at every water station and stuck to my run walk plan. My pace got slower and slower but really I didn’t care too much. I was feeling pretty chill about the whole thing which was pretty amazing for my personality! 

Along the way I saw Kate on the other side of the road so we high fived. I guess everyone on the other side thought I was there for the high fives so I then got to high five like 25 other runners as they went by. Lol. 

Around 17k it finally stopped raining so I pulled my phone out & started texting people great things like “I’m dying” and “death by untrained for race.” 

Around 18.5k I was on another walk break and must’ve looked a little distraught because another runner asked if I was okay. I burst out laughing and said, “oh, I’m great! I just neglected to train properly!” My watch beeped my next run interval so I ran with her for a little while as we discussed the run walk method and how far away the 19k sign looked. 

She took off as I ran ever so slowly along the last 2kms. As I rounded the corner for the last 500 metres I told myself I should sprint. I may hate an entire race but I can always sprint at the end. Not this time though. My legs were not having it. As I got about 100m from the finish I finally picked up a little speed & managed to pass the umm pregnant woman running beside me. (Probably shouldn’t feel too good about that right?!) 

Trudy & Kate were at the finish and Carmy text me my finish time: 2:23:36. Definitely not a PB but also not a personal worst. I’m still totally happy with that time considering my lack of training. Don’t get me wrong–I’m not so happy that I plan on doing it again or anything!! 

As far as the race goes, it is a gorgeous course. It runs right by the Falls and isn’t remotely hilly! There is decent course support & the other runners are amazing as they cheer for you! 

My issue with this race is that while it tries to spread the message of empowerment for women it instead fills almost every detail of the race with cliches. 

I’m a woman therefore I obviously love pink right? I mean, sure, I do but if you really want to empower me–give me a black shirt. Maybe toss a pocket knife in the race kit (okay–I’m not advocating we give out weapons. Please note the sarcasm!)

Let me have regular porta potties like I use at every other race. I’m no delicate butterfly that can’t use the same smelly toilet as the men do! I don’t need a special pink bathroom. 

Do not, for the love of all things that are empowering, set up a table with makeup and hair supplies 500 metres from the finish so I can do my hair before I cross! Women run fast. Many women even beat men (gasp!). They work hard, train hard and fight for their finish line. They don’t stop and fix their lipstick along the way.

I wish that this race was amazing. I want it to be so badly because it has so much potential. Unfortunately, I fear that unless a group of women are brought in to run this event it is going to disappear like sparkly eyeliner did in the 80s. (Wait! I have some in my race bag! It must be making a comeback!) 

Come on, Niagara Women’s Half! It’s time to step up your game. Women all over North  America love this race; let’s not let them down!