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finchleaf · 3 years

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howdy! sorry i've been away for so long; i've been visiting family here in turkey but i'm gonna try to start this blog back up :) for now it'll mostly be journal pics

24th july - would you prefer your summer to be shorter or longer?

honestly? maybe a bit shorter. i feel like the days tend to blur together during summer break and not having school to focus on seems to make my mental health even worse :/ anyways! i'm very excited for senior year as you can tell haha

answering the rest down below!

1st July - What are your plans for this summer?

lots of traveling, working as a camp counselor in august, makin some sweet sweet money to save up for college, playing the new sims expansion pack (!!), and hanging out with friends as much as possible before schoolwork begins to bury me alive again :)

2nd July - Do you have a specific goal for this summer?

i want to study really well for my sat in late august!! (i’ve already made some great progress) also i want to get a lot of college app stuff out of the way (write some more practice essays bc i don’t like my current one, get my letters of rec in place, figure out my major, etc)

3rd July - Do you have a lot of work to do for school, university or your job this summer?

ooo ok we have to read a book and write an assignment for it for ap lit this year (except i think we start that once we get back to school?). also i need to do a bunch of summer hw for ap calc, but that’s pretty much it! and then i have a job for 2 weeks in august (as mentioned above hehe)

4th July - What is the most important task that you need to complete this summer?

probably college app stuff ahhh don’t want to even think about it anymore

5th July - Do you have any special plans or activities for this summer?

traveling to turkey to see my family!! staying in a couple of villas (there’s a lot of us!) and then my grandma’s old summer apartment for ~5 days

6th July - What do you usually do during the summer? Is anything different this year?

going to turkey! a lifelong tradition since i was a lil baby :) last year we couldn’t go so this year’s extra special. also my first time doin a summer job!!

7th July - What did you do during the summer when you were a young child?

^^^ same as above haha

8th July - What’s your happiest summer memory from your childhood?

ooh probably one of the many from my grandma’s little summer apartment here. i have an 11 yo cousin so we share a lot of memories like running to buy our anneanne her newspaper in the convenience store downstairs, finding fish underwater at the local beach, staying up late gorging on magnum ice cream bars :)

9th July - Do you usually go on vacation during the summer?

yup

10th July - What is the best vacation you have ever been on? (note: doesn’t have to be a summer vacation)

oooh one time after flying into istanbul to stay with aforementioned cousin and my aunt, we all traveled to london for about a week! i loved that so so much, we never could really afford to go anywhere else for vacation so that was super memorable for me.

11th July - What is your favourite vacation memory?

swimming with my family in oludeniz, (called “blue lagoon”) a super pretty beach area. we swam to a little island and then jumped off its cliff :)))

12th July - What is the worst vacation you have ever been on?

oh god ok vomit tw for this one but one time my aunt, cousin, mom, and i traveled back to istanbul after staying at my grandma’s in ayvalik and we had to take a boat for a couple of hours. everyone on the boat (and it was a big one) for some reason started vomiting everywhere. i was i think the only one who wasn’t sick so it was hell haha

13th July - What is your dream vacation?

like a month-long roadtrip around france!!!! i’ve wanted to go there since i was in elementary school

14th July - Would you rather stay in one resort for a month or travel across the country for one month?

definitely travel cross country omg

15th July - Are there any special events for you in the summer? (for example, birthdays, festivals, etc.)

bayram!! bayram is sick you get money for kissing the older people in your family sjfdsjj

16th July - Do you have any summer traditions?

renting a villa with the entire family!

17th July - What is your typical daily routine in the summer?

at home, i usually wake up anywhere from 7am to 10am, take my dog for 2+ walks, read a ton, and avoid work ;)

18th July - How do you stay motivated during the summer? (for example, to study)

it’s pretty tough! i’m hoping to study daily in my town’s library for my sat once i get back home in august. i think that’ll be pretty handy!

19th July - Do you stay indoors or outdoors more in the summer?

oh outdoors there’s no ac here so we’re constantly heading over to the beach

but at home in the us, probably indoors

20th July - Are you a ‘summer person’?

nOOOOOO i love any season/month that allows me to wear sweaters and pants, so obviously i’m not a big fan of summer

21st July - What is an unpopular opinion that you have about summer?

oh hm i’m not sure... most of the women in my family always wear bikinis when we go to the beach and i just really hate them? idk haha

also i think summer camps are kinda weird but that’s probably because i never went to one as a kid

22nd July - What does summer feel like where you live?

rather cool in the later afternoon. i also love how it smells there-- lots of freshly-cut lawns, grills constantly being used, the hydrangeas in our backyard

23rd July - Would you prefer summer to be hotter or colder than it usually is for you?

oh huh it can get reaaally hot midday so it would be nice if it was a bit cooler

#flpost #journal #lookrylie #studyvan #sonderstudy #philologystudies #myhoneststudyblr #heyzainab #heypeachblossom #athenastudying #jeonchemstudy #summer studying challenge

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inuyashaha · 3 years

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Yashahime Episode 15

I think so many of my feelings and observations have been stated by others at this point, but here go my rambling thoughts anyway.

First the negative: It was an oddly structured episode. The introduction threw us straight into the past, very, very briefly framed by Riku as the narrator. Did Riku break the fourth wall or were we to assume a listener we did not see? I’m still not sure. So much information was thrown at the audience that it did not feel like there was enough times to savor the emotions of the moments ... very very important moments that showed us Inuyasha and Kagome’s home and married dynamic, pregnant Kagome, RIN HAVING HER BABIES with Kaede, Sango and Kagome being there (I LOVED that), Sesshomaru taking his babies...I’m willing to wait and assume this rushed narrative is on purpose, but it was a little jarring.

Now the good:

Rin is the mommy! I knew that. I was convinced on August 1st during the livestream, but it was a sweet (if all too brief) moment. Mamiko Noto’s voice as Rin was so perfect. It was sweet, but it was subdued. It was the voice of a someone who had just birthed twins and knows something awful is about to go down. To hear her name the babies was a beautiful moment, and how sweet were baby Towa and Setsuna. Towa looked a little grumpy/sleepy, but baby Setsuna was already smiling :). I do think they will show that Setsuna, deep down, is a smiling sweet girl like her mother and that circumstances made her like she is. It also makes me think that we have only seen one side of Towa -- we haven’t really seen what she has inherited from Sesshomaru -- yet.

I loved that all of Rin’s friends surrounded her and helped her have her babies. The twins hurrying to get Kaede, Sango going for Kagome...it was a community event! But seriously, to know that if only for a short while, Rin got to be surrounded by love and peace with her babies by her side makes the bitterness of Sesshomaru taking the babies so quickly afterwards a little easier to bear. Just a little. Sango the experienced mom. Kaede the midwife. Rin the new mom. Kagome the expectant mom. Imagine the conversations and bonding. Their kids should have grown up together :(.

And I am going to speculate, until the show proves me wrong, that Rin probably had her own hut and continued to live in the village after she married Sesshomaru, or at least after she got pregnant. The fact that the twins came to get Kaede at night makes me think that she was not in Kaede’s hut. Wouldn’t Kaede be at her own place at night?

Like Inuyasha and Kagome, I think Rin and Sesshomaru had their own place:

This looks different from Kaede’s hut. I don’t remember the little pathway on the left, but it’s impossible to tell if they are next to the gate here. Again, I’m choosing to believe they had their own place.

So, this makes me consider how much Sesshomaru really did settle down for Rin. He gave up his titles. He did not take her to a castle in the air. He let her stay among her friends and start a family WITH HIM but still within the village. He gave her the best of both worlds. He MARRIED her. How many times was she called his wife or bride? She’s no concubine or human piece on the side. He MARRIED her. Since he had not seen his mother in a while, I’m assuming he married her in her village, letting everyone know she wasn’t just some poor village girl taken advantage of by the powerful yokai. And it clearly wasn’t just a human marriage. All the big bad demons called Rin Sesshomaru’s wife. What honor, respect and love he showed to her, a mere human peasant (though of course we all know she is so much more than that, especially to Sesshomaru).

Was he like many lords and installed her in her own home, visiting and staying with her when he did not have business to attend to? Or did he tell Inuyasha that he better get used to having another demon hanging out in his forest by the village? Like...for all intents and purpose, Sesshomaru may have been living in the same village as Inuyasha, both intending to raise their families together. I love that. Please Yashahime, don’t dissuade me of this.

Poor Sesshomaru...sigh...I know it doesn’t look great for him right now...but that will change. The story is not going to make him the villain. It’s just not. But yes, poor Sesshomaru. He got to be happy about his babies being born for all of about two seconds before Zero interrupted him. Look at his little smile while he listens to his daughters’ first cries:

He had his worried face on, and then he smiled. He’s a dad in the waiting room. And the TONE of Jaken’s voice when he declared that they had been born. The WARMTH, the LOVE. Grandpa Jaken I love you so much.

This bitch, though, I don’t love at all:

Does she have some kind of magic yokai ultrasound that lets her know Sesshomaru had twin daughters and predicted Kagome would have a daughter? I look forward to seeing how this all unravels, but the fact that she showed up IMMEDIATELY after the girls were born is frightening, and maybe that was why Sesshomaru was at the outskirts of the village instead of closer by? Clearly, they were expecting some kind of attack, but dang...that happened fast.

Who is this lady anyway? I’ve seen it speculated that it may be Riku’s mother...and yes? I could see that. Did she have a hanyou she was not allowed to keep, poor Riku tossed overboard, and now she seeks revenge? Or was she rejected by Toga? Those tears of hers. Who was she crying for?

As many others noticed, this was a little odd:

What about Sesshomaru’s mother? He hasn’t seen her in years (such a bad son), and when they go to her castle, she’s missing. Was she just off doing flying dog stuff in the sky? Was she shopping for expensive jewelry and designer silks? I’m assuming she was not at Sesshomaru’s wedding. Or did Zero do something to her and Sesshomaru just wasn’t aware? I’m dying to see more of Sesshomaru’s mom. I want her to meet the twins and just throw out her arms all, “Come to Grandma! Let me buy you things and tell you stories about your dad.” But that remains to be seen.

Speaking of grandparents, can I say yet again that I love the honorary grandparents Kaede and Jaken, both trying to protect Rin in their own way. Kaede doesn’t hold back and calls Sesshomaru a fool (imagine what she was like when Sesshomaru was truly courting Rin) while Jaken comforts Rin when her babies are taken away. Again, the voice acting by Jaken’s VA is EVERYTHING in this episode. The LOVE he conveys. He’s perfect. I love him. I do.

And Rin knew the plan. She knew what was going to happen, but poor thing...I wish it could have been different for her. Look how much she loves and trusts Sesshomaru. That expression clearly says “Look what I made! Look what WE made!” I wish we could have seen them react to the babies together.

Also, look at how Sango is about THISCLOSE to putting on her slayer clothes and kicking Sesshomaru’s ass when he scooped up those babies and turned away:

The rest of the episode was such a jumble of events. Sesshomaru AND Jaken were with Inuyasha and Kagome when the comet arrived, which was after the twins’ birth but before Moroha’s. Even if they are hanyo, I don’t think Jaken and Sesshomaru would have left newborn babies alone. Rin was with them. Jaken even said he was bringing Rin to them (I assume after she recovered from birthing twins). Further supporting this would be the dream gazing spell business -- Like others have said, I’m pretty sure Rin sacrificed herself to keep her remaining daughter safe after Towa was pulled into the future.

Miscellaneous observations:

1. What the hell is going on with the comet? Every 500 years? So, the Higurashis might be in for a surprise pretty soon? Comet remnants are still in the sky though...

2. Why in the hell did Inuyasha bring his pregnant wife along for the comet destruction? Why exactly was she there? Unless he was too worried about her safety to leave her behind?

3. Riku is one shady fellow. HE found the compact? How did he know where to look? I know, I know. Don’t be hasty, but c’mon. We don’t have that many episodes left.

4. I like how they portrayed a pregnant Kagome. I like this little side view where you can see she’s chunky, but it’s not an exaggerated thing:

5. Sesshomaru and Rin had babies before Inuyasha and Kagome! On one level, it is very sweet. Of anyone, Rin and Sesshomaru are very aware of the fragility of life and how fleeting time is. Look at the names of their daughters. It makes sense that they wanted a family quickly. On the other hand, I cannot shake the idea that the brothers did get competitive with each other. I can imagine Inuyasha knocking up Kagome as quickly as possible after finding out that Rin was pregnant. Then Sesshomaru has TWO daughters to Inuyasha’s one. I am longing for some brotherly interactions. Let Inuyasha call him a hypocrite at least once. Let Sesshomaru gloat that he has TWO super awesome daughters. Let the daughters watch their ridiculous fathers fist fight while their mothers pour water on them and tell them to SIT. Please.

6. Besides emphasizing the fact that Rin is Sesshomaru’s WIFE, the episode also emphasized the fact that Rin actually birthed the girls. Rin is in labor, it will be soon, you did well, Rin, Rin resting in bed with her daugthers, her voice weak and tired, the tub used to wash the babies in the background. There was no magic switcheroo. The twins were not found beneath a tree. Sesshomaru did not sprout them from a forgotten limb. They came out of Rin’s body. She’s the mom. She made them with her husband. End of.

6. Finally, this is the best part of the episode.

You sure did, Rin.

Now where are A-Un and Shippo?

#yashahime #yashahime episode 15 #yashahime spoilers #sessrin #rin #sesshomaru #towa #setsuna #jaken

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winnix85 · 3 years

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About Lewis Nixon’s mother Doris Ryer Nixon (Mrs Stanhope Nixon)

Source: mostly from old newspapers and digitized documents (I can’t guarantee the accuracy because they are fragmented information. I will just put it out there for someone may find some interesting useful backstories).

Doris Ryer was born on Oct 1 1894.

Her father Fletcher Ryer was a wealthy pioneer agriculturalist in California. He owned 6,600-acre (27 km2) ranch on Ryer Island, which was named in their honor. Because Doris was his only heiress, this ranch all went to Doris and then to Lewis Nixon III and ultimately to Grace Nixon. It's an agricultural (instead of livestocks) ranch. They grew crops, fruits and vegetables such as wheat, milo, safflower, pears, apples, cherries, grapes, tomatoes and asparagus. They produced such large amount of asparagus that Doris's mother, Mrs Ryer was nicknamed Asparagus Queen back then. This farm is still up and running today, managed by Clarence Hester from 1950s to 1990s (Nix' war buddy, the regimental S3, the one who wrestled with Dick in that photo), after him by his son Thomas Hester.

Doris was educated at Madame Payen's school in Paris from 1906 to 1914 (her entire high school).

Fletcher Ryer died an early death in 1911 (when Doris was about 16). Doris was close to her mother Mrs Blanche Ryer. Mrs Blanche Ryer, though very charming, married very very young. As a pretty, attractive, wealthy widow she determined to ensure that her daughter Doris have a brilliant "bellehood" as a girl. She took Doris to tour around the world. For example, in Sep1913, they traveled to Russia to present Doris at the court of Tsar Nicholas II (Very inconvenient timing, I have to say).

Doris was very sweet and attractive, with pretty black eyes. Her mother has always been most ambitious for her handsome daughter. She aimed to marry Doris to British aristocracy. Doris was presented at Buckingham Palace in 1914, wearing "a white satin princess gown embroidered in pearls and brilliants". Mrs Ryer has had her eye on several members of the British aristocracy for Doris, "but this cruel war, of course, smashed all of her well-laid plans to smithereens." She has to stoop so low to choose from American heirs.

Doris married Stanhope in Jan 1917 in New York at Church of Heavenly Rest. Their wedding was the social event of the year. Guests from coast to coast attended Nixon-Ryer wedding.

The bride's costume was soft white satin, made in combination with pearl embroidered net. She worn a lovely veil, the same that had been worn by her grandmother at her wedding, which was held in place with a band of diamonds. Her only other ornament was a necklace of diamonds with a large pear-shaped diamond pendant, the gift of the bridegroom.

Because the father of bride has died, she was given away by governor of New York Charles S. Whitman. Among those in attendance were the Brazilian ambassador and Argentine ambassador.

After the wedding the new couple went to Bermuda for honeymoon and then they lived at 52 East Fifty-second Street NYC (but later moved to 46 East 65 Street). In 1920 census, the household of the new couple included Stanhope the head of the house, Doris the wife, Lewis the one and half yr old old baby son, and a butler and 3 maids. They also have a suburb house at 167 Grange Ave, New Jersey (a 20-room estate, equiped with oil burning hot water heat, a 4-car garage, servants quarters, a boat house and a stable).

After marrying off her daughter to the Nixons, Mrs Blanche Ryer re-married in 1920 to Clifford Erskine-Bolst, a British conservative party politician. Mr Erskine-Bolst was elected to the British House of Commons in 1923 and again in 1931. To help him win the election, she made generous donations to King George's Hospital in England. She campained hard for him, making speeches and appealing to the constituency in the South Hackney district.

In 1920s, mama Doris bought a villa at Riviera France from the late Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. She lived there until her death in 1939 (This villa went to Nix. But he didn't like living there, too much hassle to open the house. He prefered to stay at the hotel Cap Estel. In 1950s he leased it to the Kennedys).

Doris and Stanhope seemed to be ok in 1920s. They attended social events together and traveled to England together. After Lew, they had a baby boy in 1922 (who tragically died in 3 months. Doris' mother went to New York to be with her.) Then they had Blanche Nixon in Aug 1924 (also born in NYC). While living in NYC, it seems little Lew was often spending time with his grandfather. Grandpa often took him to play at central park. For example, he took Lew to that model yacht regatta in central park when he was 7, and to skate in central park in Jan 1927 when lew was 8. In 1927, Doris took 2 yr old Blanche to France to visit her mother, but she didn't take Lew (maybe he was too naughty?). Anyway, Doris took Blanche to see grandma almost every year but Lew was only with them on one visit when he was 10 yr old.

Doris appeared to be lonely and out of place in the social circle of New York. Here is a social note about her in 1929: "A remarkable girl with her embroidery frame, actually engaged in a simple, normal occupation in a land where the atmosphere is charged with hang-overs, gambling-losses and mistrust. Nobody around here looks twice at a woman with mauve hair like Madame de Roch, or at a man with ear-rings and a bracelet on his ankle. But let a girl take out a half-finished centerpiece and commence embroidering and every lorgnette in the crowd is whipped into place."

At the end of 1920s, Doris seemed to be so unhappy to live on the east coast anymore, and she still regarded CA to be her real home. Stanhope sold their house in New Jersey and bought a new house in Montecito (also a mansion with a large stable and everything). In the 1930 census they were living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (Stanhope, Doris, Lewis (11yr), Blanche(5yr), and a French governess, and 2 servants). Lew attended boarding school at Cate School in Santa Barbara.

In social notes in 1930s, Stanhope and Doris mainly attended social events in CA (Santa Barbara and San Francisco), they also travel to New York to visit Mr and Mrs Lewis Nixon Sr.. The family traveled a lot, not only back and forth between east-west coasts, but also trips abroad. Doris always took Blanche with her, but Lew traveled on his own even when he was as young as 15 yr old. It appears that Doris and Stanhope's relationship has gone sour in 1930s. For example, in this 1934 social note: "The Stanhope Nixons will spend the Christmas holidays with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. Mr Nixon will return to California on Jan 1, and Mrs Nixon will sail for Europe to spend six months on the Riviera with her mother." (almost as if Doris was running away from Stanhope and hide in France after briefly met him on Xmas day. Meanwhile 15 yr old Lew was at boarding school in CA).

In 1940 census, Doris and Blanche were still living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (with a housekeeper, a cook and a maid). Stanhope was no longer in this household. Maybe they have separated. Lew was also not in this household for he has left for college.

Among the CA high society, Doris was a all-around likable person: "Doris is always bubbling over with enthusiasm, her joy of living and her wit making her a welcome guest at any affair". She was very enthusiastic about opera (and art events in general, such as oriental dance). She attended the openning of Opera Season at San Francisco every year (usually with Blanche, and she will grab Lew when she can catch him). In 1940, she offered a prize for the "Best one act play" to stimulate interest in the Lobero Theater of Santa Barbara. She also went to see excellent plays in New York when it's in season and made some witty comments about the remarkable fashion trends in New York: "The only lavender and old lace that you see today is on the individual--the lavender in the tinted hair, and the lace on the dainty unmentionables."

After the Pearl Harbor Attack, Doris turned from a socialite to a civic leader. In 1942 she became the national vice-president of the American Women's Voluntary Services (AWVS) (and during ww2). The AWVS recruited and trained women to harvest crops, do nurse works, driving trucks and sell war bonds. She encouraged women to show more interest in international affairs. She also founded Guide Dogs for the Blind in 1943 (primarily to help the blinded veterans) and she made generous donations. In addition, she was the state commander of the California Cancer Society.

The AWVS duties kept her so busy, she has to relinquish her box at the opera house. She only had long enough time to have a toasted chicken sandwich for lunch. She put generous amount of English mustard on her sandwich. When her friends cautioned her not to put too much, she said:"If it puts me out, I will be a most excellent subject for the first aid class I am about to attend, and we will all find out how much we know!"

In the summer of 1945, Doris and Stanhope finally divorced (Stanhope even filed counter-suits seeking divorce on the grounds of desertion). They divorced in August, and Stanhope married "the Blond" in September 1945.

In June 1948, Doris died at home (944 Chestnut Str San Francisco CA). She had a stroke (and she always had hypertention). It seems her death was an unexpected sudden death because one month before she was still traveling around France with her daughter Blanche. Her will dictated to split her legacy equally between Blanche and Lew. She also left generous amount of money to employees such as housekeeper, secretary. For a former maid, she gave her $225 monthly for life.

#doris ryer nixon #Doris Ryer #Mrs Stanhope Nixon #She was a wonderful person #Generous kind and funny #lewis nixon #band of brothers

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lunasilvermorny · 4 years

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The Summer of Muggles

It’s finally here - and it was all my idea!

Kidding...

First of all - I’m so glad to see that anyone is that invested in anything related to my headcanon ^^ So thanks anon for giving me the motivation to finally make that post!

That being said...Here’s the thing.

When I made the "Summer of Muggles", it was just something I made for myself, to figure things out, so it involved zero research. And as someone who's never personally been to the UK, I probably got a lot of things wrong and Americanized the hell out of everything. Anyway, for me to post it, I need to do a proper research and I'm just not invested enough in it to dedicate the time and energy that will make it happen.

That means that the full thing will just stay as something I wrote for myself.

However...!

I can summarize it for you. (and by summarize, I mean - make a very long and detailed post about it.)

(I realized that the drawing I made about the Summer of Muggles is almost a year old, so I’ve decided to redraw it... It’s really encouraging to see how much I’ve improved since last year.)

0. Introduction:

For Luna's 14th birthday (it's in December, so she was still in her 4th year), her mother bought her a car that Luna named Oliver. Luna's muggle grandma has taught her how to drive (the first time she let her sit behind the wheel was when she was only 8 y.o.!), and she really loves muggle technology in general, so it was the perfect gift for her.

When Luna came back for the summer vacation between her 4th and 5th year, she's decided to go on a road trip across the UK with Oliver. The car had a magical protection that prevented muggle-cops from approaching it, so Luna was able to drive around without a license. She also looked older than she was (mostly because of her height), so she didn't draw any attention to herself whenever she got in and out of the car.

She drove around, especially next to coastlines, parked next to beaches and slept in the car. During her trip she met many muggles, but a selected few actually traveled with her for a portion of it.

You can divide her trip into 4 major sections:

The first week (the adjustment period)

The end of July

The first three days of August

The rest of August

Okay, let’s dive in!

----

1. The first week (around mid-July)

She spent most of the time getting used to sleep in her car and go to public places for basic needs like food, bathroom, laundry etc.

The most memorable event during this week was when she met a group of people that were on their way to a rock-concert when their car broke down. So she gave them a ride and in return they've sneaked her in.

----

2. The end of July

That's when she met Pete and Lynn - fraternal twins that just finished high school and wanted to have a small taste of freedom before going to uni. She met them while she stumbled across a forest party for their graduation.

Most people there were too wasted to notice her, but they saw her almost immediately and started a conversation with her. So they drank, danced and talked for hours. They were also the only muggles that figured out she's a witch. (Well, almost... you’ll see why in the next section.) Lynn has noticed her wand and they told her that their little sister is also a witch that just finished her first year at Hogwarts. After the party was interrupted by the cops, Lynn and Pete asked her if they can join her for the trip, and without any second though she agreed.

They mostly went to parties and got drunk in different places for the rest of the month, and had a lot of fun together.

3. The first three days of August

After arriving at a small town and sitting in the local pub, Luna’s identity as a witch was discovered and she had to use Obliviate on the muggles in the pub to keep it a secret. Because they were in the middle or nowhere essentially, a wizard from the Ministry of Magic arrived shortly after to see if a minor used magic there. Luna, Lynn and Pete hid in the car, and once the wizard got in the pub, drove away in a hurry.

Knowing that she needs a strong alibi in case they found out it was her that used magic, Luna left Lynn and Pete with Oliver next to a small forest outside of the town and flew in her owl form to her parents’ house, but when she saw that the wizard got there before her and was already talking to her father, she's decided to fly to the Weasleys instead. She got there in the middle of the night and woke up Bill to ask for his help.

In the early morning the wizard from the Ministry arrived at the Weasleys’ house and was greeted by Luna and Bill, although Mrs. Weasley joined them shortly after he got there. When she saw her son was telling the wizard that Luna has been staying there for more than a week and never left their house, she supported their story, even before she was sure why they're lying about it.

The wizard said that he found a letter addressed to her in the pub (oh right, I forgot to mention that while in the pub, Charlie Brown showed up with a letter from Rowan, and with the whole fuss surrounding her being a witch, she hasn’t noticed when she dropped it.) but Luna kept insisting she was never there.

The wizard left eventually and Luna found out later on that her father made the problem “disappear” and that's why she got away with it.

She stayed there for a couple of hours and gave Mrs. Weasley a not-really-convincing explanation for what happened, but Mrs. Weasley chose to trust her eldest son and his reasons for helping her.

Luna flew back to the road outside the small town where she's left Lynn and Pete with her car, but when she got to the exact spot, they weren’t there anymore. She's spent the rest of the morning searching for them in both her human and owl forms and when she couldn't, she went to a small pub on the side of the road to get some rest. The pub was empty aside for the bartender - Michael, a 20-something y.o. bloke that ran his parents' business when they got too old to do it themselves.

They talked and bonded, and eventually he offered her to sleep in his flat on the second floor, because she looked too exhausted to keep looking for them. But she barely got half an hour of sleep before she's decided to keep searching, and Michael offered to help her. She knew she'd be better off searching in her owl form, but he looked determined to help her, so they've searched together for a few hours. Around noon Luna thanked him for his help but said she preferred to keep searching alone, so she had the chance to cover more ground in her owl form.

Toward the evening she started to lose hope and took a quick nap on a bench in a random bus stop, before she was interrupted by an old lady and her son. She almost lost her wand, but the old lady gave it to her just before she left again.

She kept searching for a few more hours and just before she lost all hope, she went once more to the place where she had left them in the first place and to her surprise, found Lynn sitting next to a tree a few meters from the car.

Lynn told Luna that Pete and her had a huge fight and he's decided to go to Wales alone (because that's where they were heading) and Lynn went to a nearby town to sleep, but got stuck with the car because the gas ran out, and by the time she got back to the same point, Luna already gave up on the idea that they might still be there.

When Luna suggested they should just keep going, Lynn told her she's too tried and they both went back to Michael's pub to get some rest. But instead of sleeping they've spent the entire night drinking and talking with him and when Lynn finally fell asleep around dawn, Michael asked Luna to join them on their trip, since Pete’s spot has opened.

4. The rest of August

The three had great chemistry and spent most of the time like before- partying and drinking, only that with Michael there, they also went camping more. Lynn and Michael almost became a thing, which made being around them awkward, then it didn't work out, which made being around them even more awkward, but after a few days it went back to normal.

They went to the northernmost point in Scotland before they turned back to England, but kept driving past London and went to the southernmost point in England. There they met Connor, a rich young bloke that celebrated his financial freedom with a huge party on the beach.

During the night he made a very negative impression on Luna and Michael, but after he sobered up in the morning he offered them to come visit him in Brighton, where he'll make it up to him. Michael was against it, but both Luna and Lynn were intrigued and they've decided it will be the last place they visit before they head back home.

They partied with Connor for a few days and Lynn's decided to stay with Connor, while Luna and Michael headed toward London.

Luna dropped him at the train station and planned to go home, but when she stood outside of her house, already prepared to open the door and get in, she's decided that she wanted to get a proper goodbye from Pete as well and flew to his aunt's house in Wales.

Pete was surprised by the strange owl that knocked on the window, and even more surprised when it turned into Luna. He hugged her and apologized for leaving without a saying anything, and just said that he and Lynn had a huge fight and he couldn't stay there with her anymore. He refused to get into the details but showed concern for his sister’s safety and reassured Luna that they tend to have huge fights like this a lot and they'll make up "sometime soon."

After that Luna really went back home - and that's the end of the Summer of Muggles.

If you think that was long, the original post was ~30 pages long in MS Word, so... I actually summarized it. (Who know I was capable of it? Not me.)

#my headcanon #hphm headcanon #luna silver #luna kateřina silver #pete and lynn #the summer of muggles #harry potter #ocs #original characters

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wexlerkimberly · 3 years

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oh god, yearly round-up.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

side note: this is my TENTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! year of doing this!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have been on this website for OVER 10 years!!!!!!!!!!!!!! jesus christ.

ok. on a completely personal level, last year was so fucking dreadful that i remember falling asleep at my friends house on new years eve and thinking: “well, at least this year can’t be any worse”. HMMMM. in all seriousness though, despite everything, i have had a mostly decent year. i’m very lucky in lots and lots of ways. i’m lucky none of my closest family or loved ones have been effected too deeply by covid. just mild inconvenience, at most. i am lucky that i live in a house with such a large garden, so i could enjoy fresh air and family-free time if i needed to. i am lucky the weather has been mostly nice this year so i could go for plenty of walks. i’m lucky that i’m naturally a very quiet, anti-social person anyway so i haven’t felt the strain of isolation as severely as others.

most of all, this year has been boring, if anything. but there’s still been things that have made it nice. january - birthday!!! i don’t usually go hard or anything for my birthday but it stands out to me as a really lovely day. i went for a walk to one of my favourite hills with my dad & dogs during the day. in the evening, i had badminton with my friends as i used to most thursdays (INDOOR SPORTS?!?!?!!? REMEMBER INDOORS SPORTS?!?!!?!?!) and then, as per our tradition, i went back to their flat for take-away chips and halloumi burgers. because they are so unbelievably generous and lovely, my friends bought me a new badminton racket for my birthday. i feel like i’ve barely got a chance to use this year, for obvious reasons, but i can’t wait to use it so much more as soon as possible. the following day, i went to work as normal but then went out to a really nice italian place with my family for a meal and we did birthday cake & candles when we got home. feeling stupidly grateful for so many thoughtful people in my life. february - again, this year has been so dry that a trip to the cinema could be considered a high point. but it was my only cinema trip of the year and just a really nice day. me & my friend saw jojo rabbit (which was great, if you haven’t seen it already) and afterwards we ambled around town looking at things in shops. it sounds so simple but i haven’t done any of that stuff since really, so it feels so exciting and exotic when i think back on it.

february - stayed at my grandma’s house for the weekend. we do that as often as we can, usually, and it’s always nice. but - obviously - we haven’t been able to see my grandma much at all this year. it was nice to sit in front of the fire with her and watch tv and be given access to all sorts of baked goods and walk up the hills around by her. on the sunday, we managed to pop-in on my nana & grandad too and eat many baked goods there too.

march - meal out for my brother’s birthday. i feel like a lot of my “special days” this year revolved around someone’s birthday this year. but i think this was our last day of ‘normalcy’ before things went a bit crazy here. my family went to a caribbean pub with my brother and his gf and we had lovely tasty food and a nice night out. i think that was the last day i wore anything other than pyjamas or leggings for a long time.

april - no joke, i remember going to the vets during the peak of lockdown when the whole country was essentially shut down and it felt like THE most exciting day of my life. my cat was fine (she’d been bitten and needed painkillers for an infection but she was absolutely fine!) but i remember being near giddy in the car. my sister came with us too even though she didn’t need to because of how exciting it felt.

may - my brother’s birthday. the other one. the first of our lockdown birthdays. we popped in to drop a card off at a friend’s who shares the same birthday as him. then we drove (DROVE! IN A CAR!) to a stretch of really lovely canal that my brother likes to walk on and had a great walk. in the evening, we ordered in an indian take-away and my sister had made a FAT four-tiered chocolate cake to celebrate.

may - ok this is very dumb but i finished breaking bad this year and i set aside a special date to watch el camino. i made a very sickly millionaire’s cheesecake and my whole family gathered round the tv to eat and re/watch el camino. it’s so dumb and silly but i was so excited, it felt like a special cinematic event. i cried.

june - my dad’s birthday. my dad, my brother & me (plus dogs) drove out of the county (rogue fugitives!!!!!!) to meet my grandad for a socially distanced chat and picnic. it was a bit weird not being able to hug him and sitting on separate benches but it was still great to see him. we had a takeaway chinese for dinner and a chocolate cake for dessert.

july - my sister’s birthday. we technically celebrated it 4 days earlier because she had to move into her new flat but we had a nice indian take-away and another bloody chocolate birthday cake.

july - my mom’s birthday. i honestly cannot remember what we ate - i think we had homemade pizzas in the garden??? it’s weird when food dictates the differences between days. anyway, i definitely made another birthday cake.

july - went for a socially distanced walk with a friend i haven’t seen in ages. it was lovely and the weather was very kind to us and it was great to go walking across fields and to a reservoir i hadn’t been to in years and years.

august - my brother got his GCSE results and we ate pizza in the garden to celebrate. after the monumental government fuck-up with results, we were a bit nervous about how badly they’d ruin his chances but he did very well.

september - went to visit my grandma. she had been living by herself for the entirity of the pandemic (she doesn’t mind, she’s loves to garden and she does online latin and pilates classes, she’s a very busy lady) but i think she enjoyed seeing us. we were plied full of food once again. we went for a lovely evening ramble on the hills right by her house. on the sunday, my dad went for a walk with a friend he hasn’t seen in ages while me, my brother and my grandma went for another hill walk elsewhere. i think my grandma really enjoyed that because she hasn’t been able to go walking much because she was so anxious about tripping and being completely alone, or being rescued by someone carrying The Virus. so it was nice to accompany her. after that, we had a nice socially distanced meeting with my grandparents in their garden. it felt very risky to me because i am insanely anxious but my grandma, my grandad and my nana are all very safe and healthy.

october - halloween!!! i never celebrate halloween BUT this year, i was so sick of being the house every single day i decided to organise something different. so in the evening, me, my dad & my brother went for a halloween walk in the countryside through a graveyard, then through a field where there used to be an old abonnonded saxon village, and then finally through hagley wood where bella of wych elm was found. my dad & my brother were completely uneffected but i was absolutely shitting myself at every tiny little thing. my dogs had their little flashing colours on and we all had torches but i was still so pathetically spooked by everything. after the walk, we met my mom in the car (i had to get changed in the car from my walking stuff to vaguely presentable clothes) then we went to a goddamn PUB!!!!!!!!! to eat a meal!!!!!!!!!!! i went a bit overboard making my family santise their hands every 5 minutes but we definitely had a lovely meal.

november - did a bonfire in the garden for bonfire night. ate homemade vegan chilli and then apple crumble. it was freezing cold and we tried to stay out there for as long as we could. i even managed to find some sparklers and me & my brother waltzed around the garden with them, likesay we’re not an adult and a child-grown. the others melted marshmallows on the fire and i just enjoyed watching the fireworks i could see and throwing balls for the dogs.

november - we’re brits lmao but when joe biden’s presidency was finally confirmed, we celebrated with an indonesian take-away because fuck it!!!!!!!! gotta celebrate where we could this year!!!!!!!!!!

december - christmas!!!!!!!!!!!! we usually have christmas every year at my grandma’s house with my aunt and her boyfriend. it’s a fairly decent sized house out in the countryside and she has a wood-burning fire and it just Feels more christmassy there, especially as i’ve literally only ever spent one single christmas at home before. but we still managed to make it very special this year i think. my sister came on the 13th and we got quickly into a routine of watching christmas films in the evening. on christmas eve, i made vegan gingerbread biscuits and vegan mince pies and my sister made a chocolate yule log cake and then we watched a film. on christmas morning, we all opened our presents in our own living room which felt weird but was still lovely. afterwards, we went for a family walk. my mom pretty much single-handedly (me & my sister helped) cooked a whole christmas dinner for the 6 of us with all the trimmings. usually it’s my grandma, my aunt and my mom but the fact my mom managed to cook such a goddamn feast with our shitty oven where the grill doesn’t work and you have to slam the oven door at least 5 times before it shuts.......... i’m convinced she Might be superwoman?!?!!?!? and it was SO good. in the evening, we had cheese & crackers and my sister’s tasty yule log and we watched many a film. boxing day was much the same but still nice. this whole stretch between christmas and new years day is usually painfully boring but this year has been good, i think. i have consumed an entire army’s worth of cheese and chocolate and i have definitely enjoyed the snow we’ve had here recently.

so. yeah. this is very basic and boring. none of these things would usually end up in my write-up of the year. but i haven’t been to a single concert or theatre trip or even really left the midlands at all. in my round-up last year, i wrote some stupid sentimental bullshit about romanticising “the most basic and boring aspects of life” and never has that been so apt. on the face of it, this year has been SO boring. but i’ve managed to make it enjoyable in the tiniest ways.

for example, i enjoyed every single sunny day. i would jump on the trampoline and listen to podcasts. i would go running and listen to podcasts. i would go walking and listen to podcasts. i owe a lot to podcasts, i think. but i definitively owe a LOTTTTT to walking. i walk for a living (i’m a dog-walker lmao) but i would still go out for walks with my own dogs in the evening or go out for walks with my dad in the morning where i could. if we thought we made good use of the pizza oven last year, this year has been insane. i have made and cooked SO! MANY! pizzas this year and they were all excellent. i feel like food has been really important this year. like i said, it helps distinguish the days, especially “special” or “treat” foods. like everyone i have done a lottt of baking this year. especially when it’s been such a great year for fruit!!! there’s a field near me and there’s just simply shit loads of blackberries and raspberries that grow there. i remember one evening sat in the garden eating some mango sorbet my sister made with some raspberries i picked from the field and thinking that life simply does not get better than that. idk. it’s nice to take pleasure in the smallest things i think.

but, like i said, i have been so lucky this year. i was only off work temporarily and none of my immediate circle have been directly impacted by the effects of covid. as annoying as they are, i’m very lucky to have spent so much time with my family - as opposed to be being by myself - because it’s nice when we make food for each other and watch tv and films together or go for walks together.

god. this is long and waffley. if you read all this: what the fuck is wrong with you? but also: thank you! i know 2021 is definitely going to start off rocky but i strongly believe - and i’m a massive pessimist - that things are going to get better. love and strength to everyone. wishing you peace and comfort x

(again: i cannot believe i have been writing up this silly little incoherent things for a decade!!! sometimes i like to go back and read the earlier ones and remind myself of old fun times and cringe at teenage me. here’s to... 10 more years??? hahahahaha. anyway:here’s the other 9 years of nonsense: 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, and, finally, 2011.)

#2020 #personal #text #txt #hi it's me x

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tortugannastudies · 4 years

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☀️ Summer studying challenge ☀️ - Giant catchup post

Well, I thought I would give myself a week after the quarantine challenge, but that didn’t happen. I’ve been super busy with work, also had a nice week of kind of screen free time, so yeah, lots going on. Not sure how interesting this is going to be... Lots of love to whoever is reading this though 😘!

Week 1

13th July - What are your plans for this summer?

Lots of work! More than I’ve had since before the pandemic. Also some relaxing in nice places. I also want to do some sewing and drawing and other crafts! 🎨

14th July - Have your plans changed at all because of the pandemic?

Unfortunately, yes, a lot...

15th July - Do you have a specific goal for this summer?

Reorganize my life in a way that allows me to grow as a person, prepare for changes ahead, accomplish goals (even at a slow pace) while not being overly stressful and constraining.

16th July - Do you have a lot of work to do for school or university or your job this summer?

Yep, I’m teaching two 6 day weeks in August, and am also working on training some newer teachers at one of my company’s schools. It’s exciting and fun, but it’s a bit much compared to how lax my pace has been for the past months.

17th July - What is the most important task that you need to complete this summer?

Renew my visa and complete the series of textbooks I’m making.📚

18th July - What do you usually do during the summer?

For the past 5 years, my summer break has only been ten days long, so work most of summer and then have a long week of visiting someplace cool.⛩

19th July - What did you do during the summer when you were a young child?

Summer was when we’d go back to France and spend time at the sea with my grandparents.

Week 2

Kamigamo shrine - Kyoto

20th July - Do you usually go on vacation during the summer?

Yes! Though it isn’t necessarily super long.

21st July - What is the best vacation you have ever been on? (note: does not have to have been during summer)

Oof, I can’t pick a favourite! When my closest friends have come to visit here it’s been magical every time! Also the first time I came to Japan, before moving here, and had the chance to visit so many different places and meet so many people!

22nd July - What is your dream vacation?

Very long, in a country I haven’t been to yet, with time to relax, explore, and experience the country’s culture. Also going to a well known place that feels like a home away from home! (did this one two weeks ago :) )

23rd July - What is the worst vacation you have ever been on?

Probably the time I was a leader at a scouting camp during which my grandma passed away :/

24th July - What is your favourite vacation memory?

Again, the list is too long and picking one is impossible! Just a random one that came to mind instead: Making tents and houses for playmobil toys out of grass, also making nests for birds and feeding goats.🐐

25th July - What was is your favourite event or day in the summer? Are you a ‘summer person’ or do you prefer it when it is colder?

Maybe fireworks!🎇 I love summer... but I also really like autumn. Autumn that great back to school, crunch leaves vibe, also my birthday...

26th July - What is your typical daily routine in the summer?

Not having one right now is a problem I need to work on!

Week 3

27th July - Do you stay indoors or outdoors more in the summer?

Depends where I am. Where I live it’s too hot and humid, so mostly inside, but I usually go somewhere a little cooler for the holidays, then go for lots of walks. In France I’d be outdoors quite a bit.🏞

28th July - How do you stay motivated to study during the summer?

Ahahaha... Honestly though, hoping getting a little more involved with people in the studyblr community will help me out with this.

29th July - Have you done or are you planning to do any activities (such as work experience, summer schools or watching lectures) other than normal work during the summer?

Teaching a couple weeks of summer school, might have to job hunt too.

30th July - Beach or Swimming pool?

Beach ! 🏖

31st July - What do you like most about the beach?

Seashells, waves, bodyboarding over waves, diving under waves, snorkeling, fishies, walking in the sand, making sandcastles or giant sand sculptures, picnics, reading... 🌊🐚⛱

1st August - What is your least favourite thing about the beach?

Salt, burning your feet, when there are too many people.

2nd August - What is your song of the summer this year?

The bardcore version of “Somebody that I used to know” by Hildegard von blingin https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ch1aVmjvYTI

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also prism by ampm https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvdL0XQrlzk

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Week 4

3rd August - What is your ultimate summertime song?

No idea, but “Hey soul sister” came to mind so *shrugs*

4th August - What is your favourite summertime movie?

Not too sure, but the one that came to mind when reading this question was Spirited away.

5th August - Do you read a lot in the summer?

I try to/ want to.

6th August - What book are you currently reading?

Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson !

7th August - What is your favourite summer ‘beach read’ book?

Haven’t read on the beach in what feels like a bout ten years, but probably Harry Potter !

8th August - What TV show are you currently watching?

Re:Zero Kara, Decadence, Fruits Basket, Fugou Keiji - Balance Unlimited, The Great Pretender, Card captor Sakura, Rent-a-Girlfriend, King of highschool... Might be dropping some of them, but they’re still all on my watch list now.

9th August - What was the last movie you watched?

Promare and some Re: Zero Kara movies. I really enjoyed Promare and the Zero Kara movies gave some really nice backstory info and better understanding of some characters.

Week 5

10th August - What is your favourite summertime snack?

I don’t think I have any summer specific snacks... Maybe eating boiled eggs at the beach... Ooh! And Ice cream! 🥚🍦

#studyblr #summer studying challenge #challenge #mine

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scifigeneration · 5 years

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Video games can bring older family members' personal history back to life

by Bob De Schutter

History can come alive. Michal Bednarek/Shutterstock.com

It is one thing to learn about history in a classroom. But as any visitor to a living museum or historic site can tell you, a fantastic way to learn is to make a personal connection.

In early 2019, media entrepreneur Mati Kochavi and his daughter Maya brought the stories of Eva Heyman, a Hungarian Jew who was murdered in Auschwitz, to social media with the simple question, “What if a girl in the Holocaust had Instagram?” “Eva Stories” was a one-day project told through Instagram stories that amassed 200,000 followers before the morning it began and reached 1 million by its end the next day.

Regular people care about the past, and can now engage with it in new ways. As a researcher of games and aging, I’m noticing a trend emerging that has the potential to build even more powerful emotional connections with its audience, through the crackling voices of people who lived through important historical times and events. My fellow game designers and I refer to it as “gaminiscing” – using the tools of video games to share personal history.

These projects, including my own, combine audio recordings of their subjects with modern gameplay, letting players explore a virtual environment to hear – and sometimes even experience – meaningful life stories that are told to them by the older adults who lived through them.

Connecting generations

In general, few video games portray older characters accurately. Often they’re presented as a cartoon, or an over-the-top caricature or in a dehumanizing way. Before gaminiscing, there was almost no opportunity for older people to use their own voices to tell authentic, personal stories.

youtube

An early trailer for ‘Grandma Game.’

“Grandma Game” is the working title of an intergenerational game by brothers and media artists James and Joe Cox, in collaboration with their grandmother, Barbara. The game is a walking simulator, a popular genre of video games in which players trigger stories by exploring 3D environments. In “Grandma Game,” players find themselves inside the watercolor paintings done by Barbara and her grandsons, while hearing her tell stories of what the images and places mean to her.

The game intentionally limits a player’s interaction, to make it more fun for Barbara herself to play it. “We want the game to be playable (and enjoyable) to her, so we have to design the controls and play around what she can understand and handle,” James told me in an email. “She sees it as a way to preserve her family’s history and as an opportunity to share skills with, and learn from, her grandchildren. Both our watercolor painting sessions and audio recording sessions have given us the chance to spend … quality time with our grandmother – time focused on creating work together as artists.”

Looking at history

Other games have emerged that take on more expansive historical topics, though still using very personal experiences.

“Memories of Manzanar and Tule Lake” is the working title of a game aiming to recreate the stories of the game designer’s Japanese American grandparents during their time in an internment camp following the bombing of Pearl Harbor. In the game, players will be able to direct their own journey, interacting with other internees and learning about personal experiences with pivotal events in history, like the infamous loyalty questionnaire, and joining the U.S. Army.

Similar to the Cox brothers, game designer Brent Shiohama wishes to honor his grandparents, the bravery of interned families, and the Japanese Americans who served in the 100th Infantry Battalion/442nd Infantry Regimental Combat Team.

youtube

A virtual reality game explores one boy’s experience of World War II in France.

“La Peur Bleue” tells the stories of the creator’s grandfather in World War II France. The artist states, “By focusing on specific, emotional moments from my grandfather’s past, you are given the opportunity to experience the context of the war and empathize with the emotions my grandfather felt.” Players interact with objects in recreated locations and hear a grandfather reminisce about his past, adding another layer of historical immersion by using virtual reality rather than just a computer screen.

My own game, the forthcoming “Brukel,” uses recordings of my grandmother’s own voice, to tell stories of her childhood growing up on an occupied farm in Belgium during World War II.

As the player, you enter the Brukel farmhouse equipped with your smartphone camera and a vague list of topics that your grandmother told you about. By photographing items that match well with each topic, you unlock audio recordings in which she reveals her past to you.

However, when it eventually gets dark, you find yourself trapped in the house as the ghosts of the past come to life. Through a series of survival-based vignettes, you must try to outlast some of the horror stories that my grandmother lived through as a teenage girl, while slowly learning about how the war deeply affected everyone in the family.

youtube

A Belgian grandmother tells the story of her childhood in ‘Brukel.’

A welcoming response

Even before the release of “Brukel,” I have been able to showcase it, most notably at an event at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in early August 2019. So far, playtesters have told me they appreciate its ability to engage the player through the use of modern technology.

Because of my own research, I had anticipated that older gamers would appreciate “Brukel” for its meaningful engagement and mature story. Those are two qualities that my research has shown are paramount to older gamers. In particular, for my qualitative work, I met a number of older adults who deliberately sought out games that would meaningfully contribute to their interest in the post-World War II era.

For example, an 82-year-old Belgian man told me, “I barely remember the Second World War but I was a child back then. What I remember is extremely vivid, though. The lights, the bombings, the noise. Airplanes flying over our house and being shot down. I can still see it. It was an adventure, and I relive that adventure by playing games about it.”

Similarly, another Belgian man, aged 62, explained, “I recently went to Normandy; it is amazing to visit places in games that you can later on visit in real life. You have never been there but you know the place from the game. They can be so realistic.”

However, I had not expected the response that “Brukel” received from children. At the Smithsonian event, people from all age groups – including pre-kindergartners and octogenarians – played “Brukel.” As a group, pre-teens turned out to be most engaged with the game, spending the most time playing it and even returning multiple times over the two-day event to play it again.

When I spoke with the parents of these young gamers, the general theme of their response was that they loved how engaged their children were with “Brukel” while learning about history. One parent told me, “They’re going to play video games regardless, so it’s great that they’re drawn to something educational.” Another parent who said his child was on the autism spectrum and had trouble concentrating in school praised “Brukel” for its ability to engage with his son. He said his son was more comfortable learning through playing the game because he was familiar with using a keyboard and mouse, which he found far less stressful than being in a classroom.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that many of these gaminiscing projects are centered around war. The 75th anniversary of the end of World War II will be in 2020; as those who faced its terrors firsthand die, the stories of their experiences are fading away. The risk – and my concern – is that society collectively will forget the lessons and the promises of “never again.”

About The Author:

Bob De Schutter is a C. Michael Armstrong Professor of Applied Game Design at Miami University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

#video games #technology

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tysoncoxum2021-blog · 5 years

Text

Mr. Lovato Book Report: Tyson Coxum

Shows how brutal and the mass amount of number of Armenians killed during the Armenian Genocide.

This is Constantinople, where Vahan fled to in order to become free.

This is Bitlis, Turkey, where Vahan and his family grew up.

Adam Bagdasarian, author of, Forgotten Fire.

Thumbnail Photo of Character for site

Timeline:

July 28, 1914

World War 1 Begins

April 24, 1915

Armenian and Turkish war begins

November 11, 1918

End of World War 1

August 18, 1920

Women gained right to vote

Winter, 1915

Vahan’s dad is taken away by Turkish police and his uncle goes missing

Winter, 1915

The officers take Vahan’s family to a camp where his sister takes poison and grandma is shot while on a march.

Spring, 1916

Vahan and his remaining brother escape, but lose each other in an altercation.

Spring, 1916

Vahan stays with Selim Bey, a murderer, for shelter and food, but later leaves that place too.

Journal Entries:

1915

My life right now is absolutely fantastic. I have everything I want or need and there is not a thing in the world that can stop my happiness. I live in a big house with all of my brothers and sisters. I have a mother and father who both live together and give me lots of love. There is always a hot meal prepared for me when I am hungry and there is constantly running warm water for when I take a shower. When I am tired, I know that I have a nice cozy bed to lay down and get a good night’s rest. When I am sick, I can depend on my sister to feed me and help me feel better. Man, my life is great. I belong to one of the wealthiest families in Bitlis, so I am confident that I will always have these luxuries wherever I go. I feel on top of the word, like nobody can stop me. The only thing that is putting a little darkness on my perfect world is that a couple of Turkish officers took my father and uncle away a couple of days ago and they have not come back yet. I know that they will return soon because they have done nothing wrong, but I am still curious why those officers needed them. It is only a matter of time before my dad and uncle come back. Other than that, life could not be better.

A couple months later:

Everything has gotten so much worse. Remember when I said that things were all perfect and peachy. Well, not anymore. In fact, things are the exact opposite of that right now. I don't have long to write, so I will make this brief. Those same officers that took my father and uncle away came back to my house and ransacked the place. They led us all out into our garden and lined us up shoulder to shoulder. They asked all of my brothers and myself how old we were. Once we gave them all of our ages, they lined my two oldest brothers up against our wall. Then they pulled out there rifles and shot both of my brothers right before our eyes. It was so gruesome and disgusting. That wasn't even the worst part, to be sure that my brothers were dead, the soldiers put their barrels direct on my brothers’ skulls and fired. All that was left was a blood stained wall and two collapsed bodies that were once my brothers. Then, the soldiers took us away to some camp where other Armenians, just like us, were also being held. At this camp, Turkish officers would rape the women that were imprisoned. My sister was so afraid of being the next rape victim, that she drank poison, which later led to her death and end of her sufferage. That is now the third family member that I have seen killed today. I do not know how much more I can handle before I die too. We are being starved, parched, and held in poor living conditions. I cannot talk now, I hear the footsteps of the officers coming. I have to go.

A few weeks later:

It has been a couple of weeks now and things have continued to get worse. My mom realized that the only way that we have a chance for survival, is if me and my brother escape and try to live on our own. So, that night, my brother and I escaped by sneaking out the door, crawling through freezing cold water, with piles of bodies, ad walking over 10 miles through the night to a little city. When we arrived, we were instantly faced with the struggle of not being spotted by Turkish police. We came extremely close to being caught, but we were able to duck into a dark alleyway. However, the police were still able to see us, so we ran as fast as we could. Unfortunately, we ran in different directions and lost each other. Now, I am cold, thirsty, hungry, and alone. I do not know if I will see him again, but I really hope I do. He was the one that kept me going when I was cold and wet and had to walk over ten miles. He is the one that protected me and made me strong. Without him, I do not know if I have the strength or energy to go on. I have to do something or else I will starve to death. Tomorrow, I will try to find some food and shelter. Until next time.

Many weeks after:

Since last time, things have started to get a little better. I had nowhere to go for shelter because I was too afraid to be caught by Turkish officers. So, I decided to visit my old friend’s, Patoo, house to live with him and his mother. They were also a victim of the Armenian killings because Patoo’s older brother and dad were also shot by Turkish police. They have been so nice to me by providing me food, cold water for drinking, warm water for bathing, and shelter so I can finally get a good night’s sleep. I had to sleep in a closet all the way in the back though because Patoo’s mother was afraid that the Turkish police would come back and search the place. Upon finding me, they would murder the two of them along with myself. However, I was still grateful that she took me in and took care of me as if I was her own child. Unfortunately, the moment I feared has come. I have left her no choice, but to release me onto the street again. Her fear of the Turkish police searching her house grew stronger everyday that I was there. She gave me some food and water for my journey and a last hug before I stepped out once again onto the harsh streets. I will always be thankful for the hospitality that she showed me. Now, I must find another place to stay and survive. I will write again when I have found some spare time, but I must hurry before it gets dark.

Personal Narrative:

Forgotten Fire, by Adam Bagdasarian

My name is Vahan Kenderian. I was born and raised in Bitlis, a province of Turkey, where I was always surrounded by beautiful scenery. I came from one of the wealthiest families in Bitlis and I lived in one of the bigger houses. I lived there for 12 long years, never having to worry about a single thing, until, things started to spiral out of control. Both my dad and uncle were taken from my home by Turkish police. Both of my older brothers were shot and killed right before my very own eyes. My family was taken to a camp were I saw women getting raped, my sister die of poisoning, and my grandma killed when a Turkish officer bashed her face with a rock to kill her. I was able to escape from the camp with my last brother, left mom and last sister behind, but we were separated during a scuffle. In order to survive, I had to fight, become a beggar, and even live inside the house of one of the masterminds behind all of the killings. I managed to escape by pretending to be a military officer in order to travel to a far away town and get help by some very generous people. They were able to get me on a ship to Constantinople, where I was able to be free and share my horrific story with millions. I was reunited with my sister many years later and we lived together forever.

Links Relevant to Book:

https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/adam-bagdasarian/forgotten-fire/

Critical Review

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/144463.Adam_Bagdasarian

Quotes and a little background information about the author

www.cilicia.com/armo10b.html

Devoted to eye witness accounts and family histories of the ordeal.

www.ushmm.org

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

Historical Links:

https://www.armenian-genocide.org/

Official site dedicated to the study, research, and affirmation of the Armenian genocide.

https://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/19th-amendment-1

Gives background information on the events leading up to women getting the right to vote

https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-i/world-war-i-history

Detailed article about the causes of World War 1

https://www.britannica.com/event/World-War-I

Facts and causes about World War 1

Significant Quotes:

"This is how steel is made," he said, which was what our father used to say whenever circumstances tested our character, which wasn't very often. "Steel," my father said, "is made strong by fire." And this was our fire. But I did not feel like steel.” (55)

Vahan's dad's words are super important to how Vahan develops as a character, and the meaning of the book. It's clear that Vahan needs to suffer to become stronger.

“Strangely, I wondered who would light the street lamps tonight, and somehow all those unlit lamps and the lamplighters who were not there to light them were the most hopeless sight of all”. (31)

This quote shows us exactly how Vahan is thinking about his life. He is not only thinking about what is going to happen to him and his family, but somehow what it means for the community too. It seems hopeless that no one is even around to light the streets or do the day-to-day things that keep a society running.

“But this time was different. This time I sensed that something might be wrong, and every time I'd start to enjoy my freedom, I'd see my father being led away by the gendarmes”. (12)

When the gendarmes take Vahan's dad, he starts to think about his freedom more seriously. It's always been something he's taken for granted, but he now realizes that he might lose this freedom before he knows it.

“If there is any trouble," he said, "take the poison and it will all be over." No one asked him what kind of trouble could be worse than death. They all seemed to know.” (21)

I think it's fair to say that the women in Vahan's life have it worse than the men. Vahan sees first hand how violated they are by the soldiers, and how much they have to suffer, just because they are women.

Response #1:

I believe that life is determined by fate and not by the choices you make. This perspective on life has led me to believe that the world is unfair to those who try to do nothing, but good. For instance, my older brothers. They did nothing, but do their jobs and be good sons. This did not stop those Turkish officers from pulling them out of their own house and shooting them in broad daylight. Another example was my older sister. When we were taken to the camp, she took poison because she was afraid that she would be the next rape victim. This is unfair to her and all of the other women in that camp because they did nothing wrong. They were punished just for being a certain race. Therefore, I believe that you can do every right decision there is, but it will not make you immune to what fate has in store for you. I just do not understand why the nicest and kindest people get punished before the wicked people in the world. I think that it is so unfair that all of these good people had to die just for all the monstrous people in the world can continue to do more horrible things. It just does not seem right. I believe that nobody in the world should suffer, but I would rather have the wretched people suffer over the people who do nothing wrong.

Response #2

I define success as overcoming all the obstacles in life to get what you want and earned. I believe that I have achieved success for many reasons. The first reason is that I am finally free. I no longer have to run and hide every time I see a Turkish officer. I no longer need to worry about whether or not I am going to eat today or have a place to sleep. All of my worries of being captured and thrown back in that camp again to rot and suffer are gone. The other reason that I believe that I have achieved success is that I am finally happy. Even though these last 5 years of my life have been filled with darkness, death, and suffrage, I have finally made it to a point in my life where I can be happy. There is not a single day that goes by without remembering the murders of my family members or the suffering in the faces of others. However, it was this dark and brutal time that helped me understand that life is truly valuable and you should cherish every last moment of it before it is gone. Without these experiences, I would not be the man I am today. I have overcome so much in the last few years and now I get to tell my story to the world. I get to help people understand the important life lesson that you do not live forever, so you should make the most of life before it is too late.

Response #3

I have multiple people in my life that are important to me. However, there are three people that I would not be the person I am today, without. The first person is my sister Oskina. When I was sick, she would help nurse me back to health and she was someone that I could always rely on for help. She was like a second mother to me. When I escaped the camp and left her behind, it was like I left behind a part of myself. I was lost, until we were reunited. We have been inseparable since. The second person that means a lot to me is my older brother, Sisak. When we escaped from the camp together, he was the one that helped me keep going forward. He pushed me through the freezing water, the 20 mile trek, and kept my mind off of starving to death. Without him, I would have stopped and been a part of all the other bodies who became victims of the genocide. I owe it to him that I still have my life today. Unfortunately, he died of an illness during the genocide when we were separated, but his soul and strength remains with me at all times. The last person that really means a lot to me is my father. He is the one that helped me keep my dignity and strength when things got tough. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been some low life beggar for the rest of my life. He also died during the Armenian Genocide, but I will be sure to carry his legacy on for generations to come. I owe it to these three people that I am the man I am today and I will always be grateful for what they did for me.

Response #4

If I could change one thing in my life, I would change that my family was never split up. If this happened, we would all be living in peace right now because the war would be over. We would be able to live without another worry about being captured or tortured again. We would be able to suffer through things together and be strong together, instead of being separated and weak on our own. We would be able to help comfort one another when things were not looking so good for us. It would be hard at first, but we would know that we were going to be just fine. That soon all of the suffering will be over and everything would be able to go back to normal. The things that we survived through would only make us stronger as a family. We would practically be invincible because we went through so much together and nothing would be able to break our cemented bond with one another. This would be impossible to have, since everything has already taken its course, but it sure would be nice to have my family with me.

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lbigreyhound13 · 6 years

Text

Truly Together Forever (BOTGD EU)

Okay, so this oneshot got really long, so I put the full story under “Keep Reading.”

A lot of Grey’s family members will be referenced, so here is Grey’s family tree if you’re curious.

(Takes place 77 years after the Rebellion)

August 13, 1122

Ninety-eight-year-old Grey Hertha Bergman-Felman…former Chief of the Haligan Tribe and former Lady of the United Revolutionaries…tilted her head back as the wind pushed back her waist-long snow white hair. The warm summer air greeted her as she and Shadow soared through the sky.

It had been a long time since she and Shadow had flown together. With the passing years and both their aging bodies, it had become quite a task for both the former Chief and her loyal Night Fury to take off into the skies for a flight that it was almost rare for them to fly. Today, however, felt very different. Grey and Shadow both silently agreed that today was the perfect day for two 98-year-olds to fly to the mainland.

“Such a beautiful day, isn’t it, Shadow?” Grey finally asked.

Shadow crooned in response as she flapped her old wings. Even after not flying for some time, the old Night Fury was keeping them both in the air. Granted, their altitude was lower than how they used to fly, but it was still an enjoyable flight nonetheless.

“We should be getting there soon,” the old woman finally said leaning back against her seat. When it became harder to sit up by herself, her oldest son, Sven, insisted that the village blacksmith make a saddle that allowed her to recline if needed. Of course, Grey was at first against it, but now, she had to admit that it was nice of her family to think of her like that and that it did help stop her straining her aging body. “Of course, given how old we are...it might take longer...” She laughed at her little joke.

Shadow chortled in response to her sister’s joke.

Soon enough, their first destination became visible on the horizon. The vast land has changed in the last 77 years, but that gaping hole where Perch Hall once stood was still there. She could never forget the tragic events of the witch attack...when Orskaf Donz unleashed Kiri’s witch powers upon the Rebellion. Only 1/3 of the Rebellion perished, and the camp was destroyed forcing the survivors to move to the Dungeon.

As soon as Shadow landed near the piece, Grey slowly took her sword and stepped down using the sword as her cane and walked toward the piece of land with flowers in her arm with Shadow behind her. The former Chief knelt down and placed the flowers on the ground, and then both she and the Night Fury bowed their heads in a moment of silence.

“I know I’m a couple months late, my former comrades,” Grey finally said. “Travel has become quite difficult in my old age. I can hope that you all have found peace in Helheim.”

There was another moment of silence before Grey finally stood up again. “Come on, Shadow,” she said as she mounted her Night Fury. “We have another important place to visit today.”

The former Chief and her Night Fury traveled North to the Everglades, and much like where Perch Hall once stood, the land was slowly changing as well. Time had a way of changing things, especially over the course of 77 years. The Grounded Dungeon was nothing but ruins...standing empty and abandoned after its last occupants finally left the bunker the Goddess of Helheim herself made for them during the days of Ragnarok.

Shadow landed near the rotten building, but Grey did not dismount her and simply surveyed the structure. It was easy to see that time had indeed not been kind to the structure, as there was no sign of its former glory, and Grey was grateful for that. This dungeon was no longer the intimidating structure that loomed over all the prisoners and those outside it, and it no longer represented High Central’s cruelty.

Grey smiled at that thought. “It may have served as a refuge for us during Ragnarok,” she mused as she gently pet Shadow’s head, “but this dungeon is where it needs to be...hidden and stripped of what it was before the Rebellion.”

Shadow crooned in agreement leaning into Grey’s touch.

“Still though...no one can deny the good memories we had in this old thing...” Grey said after a moment of silence.

Another moment of silence passed as Grey and Shadow looked up at the building one more time, and then, the silence was finally broken when Grey took a deep breath and looked down at her Night Fury smiling.

“Well, I don’t know about you, girl,” she began, “but I think it’s time we head home. Traveling is not as easy as it used to be, and our family is waiting for us, I’m sure.”

Shadow crooned, and without hesitation, she flapped her wings slowly taking off into the sky allowing Grey to turn around and to look at the Grounded Dungeon one last time. She smiled and turned back to the sky in front of her. It was time to head home to Haligan Island.

Back on Haligan Island, the former Chief and Grey’s successor paced back and forth along the cliff overlooking the docks. It had been a couple hours since his elderly mother...his 98-year-old mother took off on her just-as-elderly Night Fury toward the mainland. Sixty-nine-year-old Sven Felman looked up into the sky one more time for any signs of Grey before resuming pacing.

“No sign of Nana?” a voice asked from behind.

Sven jumped as he turned around only to find his sixteen-year-old granddaughter, Sassa, Erik’s daughter. “Oh, Sassa,” he said breathing a sigh of relief, “you shouldn’t scare your old grandpa like that.”

Sassa giggled as she walked over to Sven. “Sorry, Grandpa,” she replied, “Grandma and Great-Aunt Dagny sent me to look for you. So, back to my original question, no sign of Nana?”

Sven chuckled. “No, my dear,” he replied placing an arm around her and kissing her head, “not yet.”

“They’re probably on their way back now,” Sassa suggested trying to ease Sven’s nervousness.

“Perhaps, I just worry because your Nana gets tired easily, and it’s been a while since she has flown this far with Shadow.”

“True, but Shadow would never let anything happen to her. They’re sisters after all, and Papa is probably watching over them and making sure they get back okay.”

The former Chief sadly chuckled at the mention of his late father. It had been only 10 months since he passed on, and ever since then, Sven and his younger sisters couldn’t help but feel the need to keep a close eye on their mother. That wasn’t to say that the entire family didn’t care because they did. They all wanted to help take care of their matriarch, but since it was their mother, Sven, Dagny, and Kari worked to make sure that their mother was happy and healthy in her elder years, especially when she was alone without her husband. She had Shadow, of course, Warren, Asha, and the entire family, but Grey obviously missed her husband with all her heart.

“Yes, I’m sure he is,” Sven finally said aloud.

Before Sassa could reply, a black dot appeared out of the corner of her eye, and she immediately knew who it was.

“Grandpa, look!” she shouted happily pointing to the black dot.

Sven looked up and smiled when he laid his eyes on the black dot. It was Grey and Shadow! They finally returned home!

Both grandfather and granddaughter watched as the mighty Night Fury landed in front of them and bent down to allow Grey to dismount.

“Nana! Welcome home!” Sassa said as she ran over to her great-grandmother as she slowly dismounted with Sven following close behind.

Grey chuckled. “Thank you, my dear Sassa,” she said running a hand through the teenager’s hair. “It’s good to be home.”

“Here, Mom, let me help you,” Sven quickly said.

“No need, Sven,” she said as she finally made it to the ground with both feet. “I’m just fine. I must admit that I do love having this saddle seat. It takes a lot off my aging bones when I fly Shadow.”

“Ah, see?” Sven replied smirking. “I told you, and you said that I was fussing.”

Grey chuckled as she lightly swatted her son’s chest. “Don’t get cocky, darling,” she said. “Now enough of that, I believe we are to be in the Great Hall for the celebration.”

“I believe you’re right, Nana,” Sassa said wrapping her arms around Grey’s. “We wouldn’t want to be late, right, Grandpa?”

“Right, Sassa,” Sven replied smiling at his granddaughter. “Mom, may we escort you to the Great Hall?”

“I’d be honored, Sven,” she said wrapping her free arm around her son’s arm. “Shadow, come, girl.”

Sassa giggled as they walked together to the Great Hall in the center of the village. Being the oldest of Grey and Brandt’s great-grandchildren, the future Chief of Haligan Island was very close to her great-grandparents and grandparents. When she was little, she would spend time with them while her parents worked in the village or when she simply wanted to see them. Naturally, she was heartbroken when her great-grandfather Brandt died, but that only brought her and Grey closer.

She made sure to spend as much time as she could when she wasn’t training to be Chief with her father to make sure that Grey never felt alone. Yes, she had Shadow by her side, and there was nothing against the Night Fury. Shadow looked out for her as well when she was young, and they continued to have good times together. However, that didn’t change the relationship between the Heir of Haligan Island and her great-grandmother.

They finally made it to the Great Hall, where Grey was greeted by her two daughters, her daughter-in-law, her sons-in-law, her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren, her two adoptive sisters, and their respective families.

“How was your flight, Mom?” sixty-eight-year-old Dagny asked as she gave her elderly mother a hug.

“Oh, it was wonderful, right, Shadow?” Grey replied before turning to her Night Fury, who crooned in response. She lightly patted her Night Fury on the head chuckling.

“How far did you go?” sixty-seven-year-old Kari asked as she hugged Grey as well. “Sven was so worried that you were gone for so long.”

“Only because it’s been a while since Mom took that long of a flight with Shadow,” Sven interjected. “And don’t place all the blame on me. You two were looking nervous for a bit as well.”

“Darlings, please,” Grey finally said, “don’t make me ground you. I’m supposed to be done with that now. I appreciate the concern, but we were both fine. I promise.”

“Right, sorry, Mom,” Sven replied scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Sorry,” both Dagny and Kari replied in unison.

Sassa couldn’t help but giggle seeing how her grandfather acted with his two younger sisters and how they all worried for their mother.

“Now, let’s get this family reunion started,” Grey said.

Life had become very busy for Grey’s family. The adults and the older children all had jobs around the village, and the younger children often spent time with Sven, Dagny, Kari, and their spouses respectively. Sure, she often spent time with her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and when she wasn’t with them, she found herself with Asha and Warren with Shadow alongside as always. However, before Brandt passed away, they agreed that once month the whole family would get together for a family reunion in the Great Hall. What a great tradition it was! The family grew large over time, and the tradition was still standing strong.

As dinner was being prepared, the former Chief found herself sitting in her chair with Shadow sleeping next to her as she watched the younger children play with the teens in the corner of the Great Hall.

“So, Nana, you didn’t say where you went with Shadow today,” Sassa finally said.

“Yeah, Nana, where did you go?” Thora, Olga and Even’s 6-year-old daughter, asked.

Grey chuckled. “Well, I went to visit Perch Hall and the Grounded Dungeon,” she finally replied after a moment, “to pay my respects to my old friends.”

The children gasped in delight.

“Really?!” Sassa asked excitedly. “You went back to the Grounded Dungeon and the camp?”

The former Chief laughed again at the children’s excitement. “Yes, I did,” she replied. She sighed thinking back on the memories of the Rebellion that occurred all those years ago. “I can remember as if it were just yesterday. Sometimes, I still can’t believe it’s 77 years.”

“Can you tell us a story from the Grounded Dungeon Rebellion again, Nana?” Helga, Gunnar’s 12-year-old daughter, asked quickly folding her hands together. “Please?”

“Please!” all the children said in unison.

Thrilled by her great-grandchildren’s enthusiasm over hearing stories from a point early in her life, Grey laughed again. It made her old heart sore to see her great-grandchildren excited to hear the tales of the Battle of the Grounded Dungeon. It gave her hope that these stories would never die with her and would live on through her children, grandchildren, and now, great-grandchildren. “Of course, I can,” she finally said calming down from her laughter.

The children only replied with cheers making Grey laugh even more along with the other adults.

“Well, now, what story would you like to hear?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know about them, Mom,” Sven said as the adults sat nearby to wait for dinner, “but I’ve always been partial to the one where you sang to King Haddock.”

Sassa gasped. “Oh, yes, that one’s my favorite too, Nana!” she added.

“What about the one where Great-Aunt Warren tried to train the Whispering Death?” Halvar, Gustav’s 15-year-old son asked.

As soon as he said that, a chorus of ooh’s and “I love that one” rang out amongst the children. It was pretty clear at that point which story was the most preferred.

“Very well, then,” Grey said. “We’ll start with Warren training the Whispering Death, and then perhaps, after dinner, we will tell Sven and Sassa’s favorite story.”

The children cheered again, and then, along with the adults, they quickly turned their attention to the former Chief waiting for her to begin her story.

“Okay, now, once upon a time, in the Wilderwest region, there was a HUGE dungeon known as…the Grounded Dungeon,” she began. Out of the corner of her eye, Grey saw Sven, Dagny, and Kari looking at each other, clearly remembering the introduction she used for every Grounded Dungeon story she ever told them, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself thinking back on those memories. Nevertheless, she remained focused on the story she was telling.

“Now this dungeon was guarded by the evil…Warden, a demon from the North, and the Warden was very mean to all the prisoners in this dungeon. Soon, the prisoners grew very angry at how the Warden was treating them so horribly. So, King Haddock finally stood up and led the prisoners in a massive rebellion against the Warden...”

After dinner, Grey regaled the tale of the one night she sang to King Haddock with her family, and now, just like the one she told earlier, the story came to an end. It was time for the family reunion to conclude and for the former Chief and her family to retire for the night. Once she said good night to her grandchildren, her daughter and sons-in-law, and her great-grandchildren, Grey asked for her son and daughters to accompany her and Shadow on the walk back to her house. Sven, Dagny, and Kari were, of course, happy to join their mother and her Night Fury on a quiet walk. It had been a while since the five of them had some alone time.

“Mom, you never cease to amaze me with your story-telling,” Kari said as they walked back to the very house she and her older siblings grew up in.

“I’ve had years and years of practice, my darling,” Grey replied. “It’s nice to know that I haven’t lost my touch.”

The four of them laughed together at her comment.

“You know, Mom, the three of us had been talking with our spouses,” Dagny finally said after a moment, “and we felt that--you know--with our kids moved out of our houses with their own families, maybe we could look into the possibility of you moving in with one of us.”

“Moving in?” Grey asked.

“Well, yes,” Kari added quickly, “and it’s not that we’re trying to baby you or anything. It’s just that...”

“...Ever since Dad died, we’ve hated that you’re in that house alone,” Sven interjected, “and we think that if you moved in with one of us, we could keep you company more often.”

Grey could only smile at the three of them. “Look, guys, I really appreciate that you want to help me,” she finally said, “but Shadow and I really are doing just fine. Besides, I could never leave that house. It’s the house your father and I built together, the house that you all grew up in. I just...can’t see myself leaving it, at least not now.”

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Dagny said taking Grey’s hands into hers, “but would you at least think about it?”

Grey’s smile grew before she placed a hand on her middle daughter’s cheek. “Of course, I’ll think about it, Dagny,” she said before turning to Sven and Kari as well. “Darlings, you have no idea how happy you’ve made me. I really feel like the luckiest woman in the world to have such an amazing family. You three are my rock, and you always have been.”

“I think I speak for Dags and Kari when I say that you are our rock, too, Mom,” Sven replied. “You always have been.”

“I love you three...so much,” Grey said pulling the three of them into a group hug while Shadow nuzzled them.

“We love you, too, Mom...very much,” Kari said closing her eyes embracing the warmth of the group hug.

When they finally pulled apart from each other, they resumed their walk to Grey’s house. After a few minutes, Sven, Dagny, and Kari made sure to help their mother to the front door with Shadow in tow.

“Well, this is my stop,” Grey said as she opened the front door.

“I’ll come by in the morning to bring you to the healer for your check-up,” Sven said. “Then maybe, afterwards, the four of us and Shadow can have breakfast together in the Great Hall.”

“That’s a great idea, Sven,” Grey said. As much as she loved the family reunions, the former Chief always loved the opportunity to spend some quality time with her three children.

Shadow crooned in agreement.

“I do, too,” Dagny replied placing a hand on Grey’s hand.

“Me too,” Kari added.

“Perfect, it’s settled,” Sven said clapping his hands together.

Grey chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about you three,” she finally said, “but I’m so tired that I can hear the bed calling me.”

“I would imagine after that long flight you took with Shadow today,” Sven replied.

“You need help with anything inside?” Kari asked.

“No, no, don’t worry, dear,” Grey replied. “I’m going to change, get right into bed, and write a letter to Aunt Seasick before I go to sleep.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear from you,” Dagny said before leaning in to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Good night, Mom.”

“Good night, Mom,” Sven said as he repeated the gesture as Dagny.

“Good night, Mom,” Kari said as she followed her older siblings’ lead.

“Good night, my darlings,” Grey replied as she stepped inside. “I love you all. Never forget that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dagny replied.

“Not when we love you too,” Kari added.

“Good,” Grey replied. “Shadow and I will see you in the morning.” She then turned to the Night Fury standing beside her. “Come, Shadow. Let’s get into bed.” The old woman stepped aside allowing her Night Fury to go into the house first, and as soon as Shadow was inside, she blew her three children a kiss before closing the door as they returned the gesture.

As soon as Grey closed the door, Shadow blew a small plasma blast at the fire pit illuminating the main floor of the house.

“Thank you, Shadow,” Grey said as she made her way into the bedroom. However, she stopped when she noticed a very special painting on an old shield on the wall. It was a portrait of Grey and Brandt in their younger years with their three children smiling happily, and Grey remembered the day it was painted very clearly.

It was after she and Sven stood together for their portrait, which took its place with the past Chiefs and their successors. Both he and Grey wanted a portrait of the Felman family to be place in their home, and that was precisely what they did. She could only sigh as she focused on her husband’s face.

“Gods, I miss you, Brandt,” she whispered. “You would’ve had such a great time today with our wonderful family.”

Shadow crooned sadly as she nuzzled her rider’s cheek as Grey leaned into the touch. “Oh, thank you, Shadow,” she said before placing a kiss on Shadow’s cheek. “I miss my husband with all my heart, but I’m also forever grateful to have had you by my side all these years. No matter what, we are together forever, you and me. I love you.”

The Night Fury crooned in reply as she nuzzled Grey’s cheek again.

“Let’s go get some sleep,” she said. “Sven will be taking me to my check-up, and then we’ll have breakfast with Sven, Dagny, and Kari. Then maybe afterwards, we can take a flight around the island, hmm?”

Shadow chortled again in reply.

With that, the former Chief and her Night Fury made their way into the bedroom, where Grey changed into her nightgown and settled into bed with paper and ink to write to Seasick. Shadow took her usual spot right beside Grey on the floor with her head resting on Grey’s lap.

When she finally finished her letter to one of her best human friends, Grey yawned as she felt the fatigue of the day’s events taking over. She put her letter on her nightstand taking a mental note to send it in the morning while Shadow went to the living room to put out the fire. As soon as the Night Fury returned, Grey blew out the candle and settled under the covers while Shadow curled up next to the bed. Grey looked down at the Night Fury as she settled down for the night and smiled gently scratching her head.

“Good night, Shadow,” she whispered.

Shadow crooned in reply clearly wishing Grey good night as well.

The former Chief closed her eyes as the peacefulness of the night and the warmth of her bed and her sister right next to her relaxed her and allowed sleep to overcome her.

August 14, 1122--the next morning

The silence in the house was so deafening as Sven, Dagny, and Kari sat at their old dinner table with tears streaming down their faces. Their spouses thought it would be best to allow the three siblings to have some time alone while they went to pass on the news to their respective families.

“It just feels like a bad dream,” Kari finally said. “I keep thinking that she and Shadow are just going to come out of the bedroom ready to go to get breakfast.”

Sven reached forward and took his younger sister’s hand into his. “I know,” he whispered sniffling.

“We were with her all day yesterday,” Dagny said as tears welled in her eyes. “She looked and sounded fine. The both of them did. Did we miss something?”

“We didn’t miss anything, Dags,” Sven replied. “It was just...time to go.”

Dagny let out another sob as more tears flowed down their cheeks. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “I just...I thought that...after Dad...we would have more time with her,” she said. “I-I didn’t think it would be this soon after him.”

“Let’s be honest here, there was never going to be enough time,” Sven said shaking his head. “No matter how prepared or how much time passed, there was never going to be enough time for us to spend time with her.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t ease the pain,” Dagny replied.

“I didn’t think it would,” Sven said shaking his head, “but...there is one thing we can find comfort in.” Both women looked up at him. “Mom wasn’t in any pain.” He thought to how he found her and her Night Fury earlier that morning. “She looked like she was at peace, and she wasn’t alone. Shadow...her best friend...her sister...died alongside her. They promised each other to be together forever, a promise so strong that not even death could overcome it. Mom and Shadow are truly together forever now in Helheim, and they’re with Dad, Uncle Greg, Grandpa Sven, and Grandma Ingrid.”

“I suppose,” Kari said. Her big brother was right. Their mother was with her Night Fury and the rest of their family now in the afterlife. She could only imagine how happy Grey must’ve been to enter Helheim with her Night Fury by her side and to reunite with her husband, adoptive brother, and parents. “I’m still going to miss her though...both of them.” She began to cry again.

Sven and Dagny quickly stood up and hugged their youngest sister tightly as they cried together.

“We are, too, Kari,” Dagny said through her tears.

The three siblings cried together for a few more minutes before finally pulling away.

“What are we going to do now?” Kari finally asked.

“Well, we’re going to give Mom and Shadow a funeral,” Sven said, “but before we do that, we’re going to have to let some people know, like Aunt Nala and Aunt Seasick. Erik will notify the village and the rest of the Wilderwest.”

“Havelock and I can take care of Aunt Seasick,” Dagny offered.

“I can help you track down Aunt Nala, Sven,” Kari added.

“Perfect,” Sven replied nodding. “As soon as that’s taken care of, we’ll have the funeral.”

“We should make sure that Mom and Shadow are on the same ship together...side-by-side...for the funeral,” Kari finally said after a moment of silence. “Mom...Mom would’ve wanted it that way...to be sent out to sea with her sister right next to her.”

“Of course, Kari,” Sven replied. “We will do just that.”

“I agree,” Dagny added.

“We’ll get through this...together,” the oldest Felman sibling said. “We may have our families, but we will always have each other to lean on, just as Mom and Dad said.” He paused to look at his younger sisters. “I love you both very much, I mean it.”

Dagny and Kari could only pull him into another group hug.

“We love you too, big brother,” Dagny replied.

(A Few Hours Later...)

“May the valkyries welcome you,” Chief Erik began, “and lead you and your Night Fury through Odin's great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you've taken your rightful place at the table of queens. For a great woman has fallen: A warrior. A Lady. A chieftess. A sister. A wife. A mother...” he let out a shaky breath, “...a grandmother. A great-grandmother. A friend.”

As soon as the Chief finished, he turned to his father and nodded. It was time. From Erik, the torch was passed allowing the older members of Grey’s family and Nala to light their bows as the younger children and Seasick watched the scene unfold with the other villagers. Once the task was completed, they turned to the old ship...the very ship that carried the bodies of Grey Hertha Bergman-Felman and her Night Fury, Shadow, as they laid side-by-side, slowly floating out to sea.

The Chief of Haligan Island shot the first arrow, and once it landed on the ship, more arrows followed slowly setting the ship aflame in a true Viking fashion. The family of the former Chief and her people watched giving her and Shadow one final farewell.

Sassa, the Heir of Haligan Island, slowly walked forward with tears rolling down her face. “We love you, Nana,” she whispered. We’ll miss you...you and Shadow.” She was jolted out of her thoughts when she felt her father’s hand on her shoulder causing her to look up at him.

The young teenager hugged her father tightly as he returned the gesture.

“I don’t want to ever forget her, Daddy,” Sassa finally said sniffling.

“I know, sweetheart,” Erik said running a hand through his daughter’s brown hair, “and you never will. Nana and Shadow will live on in our hearts, our minds, and the stories that she told you and you will in turn tell your children one day. Future generations of our family will know of the stories of the Battle of the Grounded Dungeon and your great-grandmother.”

“A young woman,” Sven said walking up to his oldest son and granddaughter, “who joined the Rebellion to stand up to High Central, became second-in-command to a great Hero, died in sacrificing her life to save her beloved Night Fury only to be risen from the dead by the God of the Dragons, and grew into becoming a natural born leader.”

“Couldn’t said it better myself, Dad,” the Chief replied smiling at his father.

#battle of the grounded dungeon #botgd eu #botgd #so yeah this is how Grey dies #no this doesn't mean I'm done with Grey #I will write more for her #This was sitting in my drafts #for months #and I really wanted to finish it and get it out there

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colitisandme · 3 years

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Firstly Hi again. I am sorry I have been absent for the past few months. Truth is, I have been feeling rougher than a badgers arse and keeping myself away from people with eyes for their own good. The last few months have been particularly tricky to navigate after my last surprising hospital stay. It did not go well. But I wanted to start this year off by doing a year in review... looking back at what’s happened and try to find a Kum by ya moment in a sea of well of just waaaaaaaaaaaah and arrrrrrrgh! So journey with me through the past 12 months of life, love and quite literally the pursuit of toilet roll.

I greeted January with a hi five and with eternal optimism of what this year could bring, “ This was going to be our year” we said with proud and happy voices, only later sadly discovering my optimism had clearly been marinading in all the new years alcohol, and so drunk, incorreherent and nearly blind stumbled into a ravine where it bobbed about helplessly in a sea of tears before plunging into the abyss. Ideal.

In February, Phyllis Fibro barged her way past my defence system, and squeezed her fat behind into my life and with no warning announced she was going to be here for the duration, turned my limbs to jelly, gave me chronic insomnia, ate all my happy snacks, and let her cats scoot in the trifle of my life. Phyllis is like the relative who turns up for a ‘short surprise visit’ sets up camp in your spare bedroom, deletes all your favourite shows off your tv planner, eats your food out of the fridge, steals your favourite clothes then proceeds to stretch them out and give them back to you when they look like overstretched scrotum... all the time finding new and inventive ways of irritating you on a daily basis. That short stay turns into you finding a truck has turned up at your house bulging at the seems of boxes, clothes 13 clothes horses, giant ball of string, bag of costumes for cats and a yearly subscription to ‘football hooligans and where to find them in your neighbourhood’ in your name. We are not friends, I do not like her and wish she would vacate my body as there is simply no room for her and I think her merely being there is catapulting useful stuff out of my ears and filling the space they used to be with goo. I am sure she takes great delight when I try and blindly grasp for the correct word in a sentence and sweating and stammering exclaim ‘ it’s very nice to meet your umbrella/ sandwich/ watering can’ when I meant to say BROTHER. I am sure she cackles heartily whilst they back away with panic on their faces ... it’s an ideal way to make friends and influence people.

Due to the fact Phyllis was turning my brain, legs and general well being into jelly, I was given medication.... have you ever heard your own heart beat? I have. I have also had the pleasure of replaying the lyrics to a Mcfly song in my head for 8 hours straight.... (am 35 years old and so teen pop should not be the automatic thing my drug induced brain turns too) and had a continuous plot line to ‘How I met your Mother on’ repeat.... These are not brilliant side effects to have at 2 in the morning whilst your husband is blissfully slumbering away in the background and your so tired that you want to chew the pillow and cry. So after several weeks of this, it was decided by everyone within a global radius that that particular medication was not for me. Probably for the best as it felt like my heart was going to explode out of my ears and my pupils were the size of saucers. But after they removed it I realised was just going to be little me vs Phyllis, a battle still going on to this day.

March/April brought the beginning of Lockdown and that endless pursuit of well-being, equilibrium, sanity and toilet roll. A shopping trip was like witnessing snarling animals over a territory dispute...strangers with eyes staring, yelling, barging, arguments over who had the bigger trolley every time we want to a supermarket... People scrabbling to get that last pack of baked beans, bowling grandmas down the isles, sending shoppers flying like bowling pins, climbing over children, ripping open packs of spaghetti then proceeding to stab people’s eyes with it, just to get the last bag of cheesy snacks on the shelf... incoherently grunting at the cowering till workers. Like a scene from Shaun of the Dead. I hoped that a crisis would bring out the best in us, that we would all come together and support and look out for our fellow man but no such luck there. And when you are already battling several illnesses all trying to set up a commune inside your body, the thought of going out into the madness that was unfolding all around us was terrifying.

June/July/August was the summer of isolation. Now I deal with isolation on a daily basis but even when your illnesses do a fabulous job of isolating, you find things, tiny things to focus on, enjoy and look forward to. First good thing in this period of isolation, was that I found out I was nominated for an award FOR MY LITTLE BLOG!!! (Victory cookies, trumpets sounded, woo hoo noises) This was a huge surprise and completely awesome. I was so blessed and felt incredibly honoured to even be considered. I truly think that this was one of the proudest moments and achievements in my life and it’s something I remain hugely proud of. Secondly early during this time myself and my dear friend who runs a hugely successful FB group supporting those who have Microscopic Colitis, decided we were going to come together and write a book about living with Microscopic Colitis including my blogs and stories. This makes me go eeeeeeeeeeeeeeep and almost wee myself with excitement. We can’t wait to put it all together for you all. And thirdly my very clever, very awesome husband had passed his last ACCA exam (Yaaaay) and our bubble was holding strong, Me and my husband were adapting to lockdown life and enjoying our time together. All was good.

For a few months, I ignored my raging body, put my fingers in my ears and loudly sang ‘la la la la’ everytime one threatened to ruin my day... ‘I will just try harder’ I would say or ‘it’s not effecting me’ or ‘it’s not beating me’ ... blindly ignoring the fact that my body was screaming at me... because I am stupidly stubborn. I refuse to let anything beat me... especially illness. However an unfortunate event happened around this time, and after it happened, my illnesses must of all had a pow wow, came together by torchlight and all decided that with no warning they were going to barge past my defences, clobber my Arsenal, scratch their eyes out tromp up and down my body yelling “Na na na na na we told you so” in my ears, whist Phyllis stomped on my limbs. She then got out her mallet, whacked my hands so they blew up, and then proceeded to harness her artistic side and paint my hands blue just coz she thought regular skin colour was ‘so last season’ and using a giant straw sucked all the colour out of my face. Miss Anxiety who was usually fairly quiet in her zen garden of peace, decided now was the perfect time to start learning Death Metal music without wearing earphones, whilst reading me my favourite novel ‘100 reasons why you failed’ at in oppertune hours of the morning. Slowly Colin the colon began blowing himself up like a balloon, and built a giant wall so I couldn’t poop and I shook like a vibrator on setting 4. And I couldn’t stop it... it completely swamped me. All that ‘it doesn’t matter it’s not beating me’ was hogwash all the ‘you’re defying what you should be doing’ from my doctors went out of the window.... I was struggling and I knew it and so did my body and once more I had nothing outside my little bubble to distract me from it.

Which leads me to the worst 3 months since I first had the symptoms of Microscopic Colitis and Colin the Colon began behaving like an uncooperative toddler hyped up on sweeties. I kid you not. Brace yourself.

Now firstly I want to firmly state I am used to pain. I am aware that It’s better to be used to daisies or marshmallows, or stroking puppies but sadly I am used to pain. Phyllis gives me a lot of it on a daily and nightly basis. I also have a high pain threshold. No honestly I do. I can be stoic when in pain. Which is useful. You won’t often know I am in crippling pain unless I tell you. So when I say September was the month we refer to as ‘agonising pain month’ you can be sure it really was. A niggle in mid September, which naturally I ignored, turned into ‘HOLY CRAP WHY IS THE DEVIL DOING A CAN CAN ON MY BACK WHIST INSERTING HOT POKERS THROUGH MY SIDE??’ (Insert 39 creative swear words) I tried to go to my happy place which was replaced by fire and knives, deep breathing techniques, which when applied felt like I was breathing in acid’ and positive thoughts were replaced with demons in a conga line singing a rousing rendition of “boiled and roasted, lightly toasted, fricase and lit and flambéd” in unison. Cue paramedics, more swearing, being sent to hospital via ambulance, sucking gas and air, been given a plethora of drugs, poking, needles, and my right hand side feeling like all my nerves were being forcibly twanged like the strings in a guitar. The pain would not go, it did not change, it didn’t ease, it led to 5 days in 3 different wards where it was too painful to touch my skin, mind numbing exhaustion where it felt like my legs were encased in lead and taking a few steps felt like I had run up a mountain, and showers where I would be huddled over in tears trying to wash myself, keep balance and not shout obscenities at my wash cloth.

When you have on your notes that you have a chronic illness resulting in widespread pain, and you end up in hospital trying to explain your body is trying to leave its self forcibly and quickly through a firery tunnel of woe, guess what happens? They assume it’s the chronic illness. Yep. You are immediately bundled into that catorgory without a second thought. Doesn’t matter the pain was on my right hand side, felt like I was being stabbed through my lung, and have never had anything like it before. Nope. And throughout my whole stay I felt like an imposter. Like I shouldn’t be there. Even though I was in so much pain I couldn’t stand and even lying down made me go cross eyed it felt like I was being judged. Scruitinised. They knew I needed to be there. But somehow made me feel like it was all part of my condition. It wasn’t. The stay was also traumatic. There were some very very poorly people on my ward, having incredibly tough conversations with drs, family, hospice and my heart broke more than once during my stay. And my pain team who I have been under since I was introduced to Phyllis, did not come and see me once. Not cocking once, despite being asked to several times. I was not impressed to say the least.

Once I returned home, (still in sodding pain I might add) I had multiple attacks. One attack was so bad my wonderful best friend had to come and rescue me as I had dropped to the floor and couldn’t get up again... and I was completely on my own at the time so thank Christ she did, or Kyle would have come home to me lying on the floor surrounded by a puddle of wee and tears with chew marks in the carpet, where I have tried to propel myself across the room by my teeth. And the thing about consuming more meds than a pharmaceutical trade convention, is that it effected Colin. He declined to let anything pass, like a hulky bouncer at a club... He denied ANYTHING to go through, for 9 days... after 9 days sweating, cramping, hobbling due to back spasms, red faced eyes bulging and dizzy I presented again in casualty .... so off balance in fact I dropped my phone down the loo in a&e and then panicked trying to scoop out the urine sodden device attempting to drying it out under a dryer... sigh. And would they help with Colin, even though I have a bowel disease? NO! “Wait until you reach 11 days, and if no movement then, then we will intervene” I was told. 11 COCKING DAYS!!!! If there was no movement by 11 days they would not have had to intervene, they would have found me on day 11 swearing, full of a combination of laxatives, prunes and other such things scooting on their bloody floor shouting obscenities at the toilet bowl, trying to get my colon out with a spoon. This bout of constipation led to tearing so much i lost so much blood I filled a toilet bowl and consequently 3 more weeks of hydrocortisone suppositories, laxtatives and pain killers and it’s still effecting me now. Colin is most certainly not my friend at the moment. During this time feeling thoroughly abandoned I sought advice in private health care who discovered during a scan that I had a new resident in my right lung... I call him Filbert the lung goblin. He is a small undertiminable mass and is also not bloody welcome. There is no room. I have made it clear to him that he is not staying long but he ignores me and likes to find ways of stomping on my lung in his big Goblin boots at various times of the day causing me to yell out in surprise and pain.

So fast forward to the present day, complete with Phyllis, Colin, Filbert and god knows who else. I have been to physio for my back, (my right side of my back is rigid) where each session she either gives me exercises through zoom or she bends me like a pretzel and pulls me in different directions in person, (after making sure I have consumed enough painkillers to take down a fully grown Rhino) making my eyes bulge. I have been having regular sessions with a Psychologist who is helping me work on ... well me, and it’s not easy. This new back complication makes it doubly difficult, as even the smallest movement in my right hand side can set off hours of hell and spasms so I have had to have found other ways of moving, writing, working holding things and generally coping. I lost my dear friend a little while ago so I am also grieving in my own way for her. But I am also acutely aware that we and our family are safe when thousands have not been, We and our families are without COVID and allthogh isolation makes things harder, we are blessed we have what we have. It’s difficult to focus on the positive in a sea of crap, but I try to keep looking on what’s there rather than what’s missing. I try to find joy in the small things and am finally realising that I have to slow down. The realisation that I am ill has been a long time coming, and the further acceptance that comes with that is even more difficult. It’s definitely been a journey and even though it’s still one step in front of another, it’s still steps forward in the right direction, and even if I lose the map and veer off course, that’s okay too. It’s okay not to be okay and it’s okay to adjust to your new normal whatever that might be. It’s just another chapter and I think I am going to try and be more kind and accepting of my new normal moving forwards. So I start my year with a new found appreciation of myself, trying to be kinder to myself and trying to open up more to my loved ones. It’s been one hell of a year, but it’s a year of difficulties we have all shared in our own way. And by sharing we support each other. After all no matter what last year threw at us all and no matter what this year brings. We are all in this together. ❤️

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klainelynch · 6 years

Text

2017 in review

I always say that I’m going to post a “how my year was” at the end of the year, but I have an awful memory so I never remember what happened in each month. This year, I tried to post about each month as it finished- the good and the bad. Under a cut because of course it got long, and I never seem to post about my real life, so this may be boring if you don’t actually know me.

January

Got a snow day after having students for just one day

Accidentially read a book in one night (Perfect) because of aforementioned snow day/borrowing it electronically from the library/not knowing how many pages there were (not that many since it’s YA)

Got two more snow/ice days because my county has mountains in it and we’re in the South, so we’re not prepared for winter

Saw Hidden Figures and cried about how good humanity can be when we actually allow and encourage all people to be their best (black women!!!! they did that!!!!!!!)

Helped my students navigate our county’s program of going one-to-one with Chromebooks (there were many good things, such as getting my kids to play freerice for extra credit; there were many bad things, such as a quiz getting screwed up because I shuffled the questions but had asked my co-teacher to help me by reading the quiz [as she normally does] to a half dozen students...who all had a different order of questions...).

Went to a conference for new teachers and while a lot of the information was repetitive, there were a few things I got from it (such as 6.5 professional development hours aw yis).

Got to see lots of family I don’t usually see on this weekend!

Started reading The Diary of Anne Frank with my students because this country allowed fascism to be A Thing™ and I’m going to resist however I can.

Got two (!!!!!!) days off at the end of January for sick days (apparently other students in the county? not us but we benefitted!!!!)

February

Finally had an entire 5-day week of school

Then got another two days off for sickness (8th grade was doing our part by asking ENTIRE classes “Hey! Anyone feel sick? Anyone want to go get their temp checked???”)

Went to an open house at a local mosque, and y’all, I live in The South™ but their parking lot filled up a good 15 minutes before the event even started and there was an overflow room and so much support for this community during the Muslim Ban and it just filled my heart with joy

Got a haircut (it was literally down to my butt y’all!!!!) and now it’s right below my shoulders

Had pedal extensions installed in my car because I’m 4′9 and would have literally died if the airbags went off.

March

Got my professional teaching license! I’m no longer an apprentice! I don’t have to have 4 observations a year!!! Only 2! And while I’m REALLY good at playing the observation game (and am MUCH better at this than the testing game), it will be nice to not think about it so much.

My mom came to stay for a few days because it was her and my sister’s spring break.

During that week, I had a LONG 4 day week, which included staying at my school until 7:30 for a town hall meeting/carnival/extravaganza. F U N.

My spring break was purposefully low-key. I rested a lot, read books, caught up on Netflix, shopped at Old Navy, and went to the local art museum for the first time (I’ve only been in this city for 8 years...)

April

I found that I actually enjoy teaching how to write an essay. The 5 paragraph essay, while it has many faults, is a really good place for beginning writers (which 8th graders are) to begin. I had a student tell me that she liked how I made each sentence have a specific purpose because she was able to plug in her evidence and thoughts more easily- this honestly made my whole day.

That being said, I HATE teaching essays when students are absent. Trying to get them caught up and keep everyone else on track is SO MUCH WORK. Especially when the absent students don’t come to me during my plan to make up their work...

For two whole days, my last period class was not allowed to use erasers because some people (two boys, as it turned out) were shredding and throwing them at each other.

I turned 26

The Welcome to Night Vale Live Show FINALLY TRAVELED TO TENNESSEE AND Y’ALL CECIL (REAL CECIL NOT THE CHARACTER) IS FROM KNOXVILLE!!!! The weather singer was super fun (she played Rocky Top and we ate that shit up like biscuits and gravy with no shame whatsoever) and the show itself was just so much fun even though I went alone. It was almost an hour of normal segments with the plot of the glow cloud, but they also brought in Steve Carlsburg and Tamika Flynn (I diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiied when she walked on stage because I majorly crush on that actress whoops) and watching those actors interact on stage was so much fun.

May

End of the school year is always chaotic and better left forgotten tbh

We took the 8th graders to the local theme park, and it was really good (though my expectations were super low because last year’s trip SUCKED). The weather looked like it might rain, but it was nice all day, the kids were pretty good, and the rides were fun.

There were some really sad community deaths around this time :(

The teacher who normally MCs the 8th grade commencement is now an administrator, so while we still had him open the ceremony, I gave out several of the awards, and I don’t think I did a bad job (two of the other teachers hate public speaking and the last one was new to the team this year, so I was really the only choice).

June

Worked my church’s festival, which is always fun. The crowds are never what they ought to be (due to a combination of rain threats and poor marketing), so a lot of people missed out on some really great food and music.

Great music included a new band- Southern Avenue- that I got to see again later in the year.

I had to miss the third day of the festival because of a friend’s baby shower. I knew a few people (besides the couple), but they left early; luckily, the people throwing it were a lot of fun. We played games (don’t get caught saying “baby”; pin the sperm on the egg; etc) and decorated diapers/onesies/bibs for the baby). The next day, we went to church (IN A MOTHERFUCKING MONSOON) and for Mexican food.

Started my reread of Harry Potter (it had been about 5 years since I’d last read the series). I cried in almost every book, and not always at sad parts. I’ve become very protective of Harry as I’ve gotten older.

My younger brother found an NES, which was the console I grew up with and my parents gave away years ago. They really loved to play on it, so this was a wedding anniversary present for them. The Legend of Zelda is the shit.

July

I finally got a new phone (I’d had mine about 3 years, and it died in May) and I know it’s fun for iphone users to shit on Android users, but I really do love the camera quality on my Samsung.

Rachel came to visit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We drank wine and went to the zoo and got real bbq and the best donuts in the world

Had a Treat Yo Self Day which included:

WAFFLE HOUSE

BITCH!!!! B I T C H

DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAN GET AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE

YOU

KNOW

COUNTRY HASHBROWNS!!!!!

aka

biscuits and gravy minus the biscuits plus the hashbrowns

I just had regular biscuits and gravy BUT ALLI HAD THE GLORY

I LOVE THIS PLACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

McKay’s

I bought Pokemon yellow because I never played/watched it as a kid, and while at my house for the summer, I found the old black & white gameboy an older cousin gave me, so naturally I had to do it.

Pokemon Go

yes still

You know what once I was back in town I went to my favorite library almost every day for an hour or two and read while opening Pokemon Go every few minutes so there

Went with some of my best friends to visit another one of our best friends who lives in the middle of fucking nowhere and had adventures including, but not limited to: getting pizza because we were too weak to change out the gas’s grill, waiting 5ever for food at dinner, and watching the entire Flowers in the Attic series.

August

School started back up, and at the kick-off for all the teachers, I won $500 in a drawing of all the people who hadn’t used a sick day last year!!!!!

And I didn’t even realize that I’d won $200 at the previous school board meeting in the same type drawing!!!!

New class started off with 85 students. It was a DREAM to be able to focus on individuals and not just herd cats.

I actually felt more confident in the classroom with my early units (poetry & our whole class novel).

September

Still felt confident in the classroom!

I got my testing scores back from the previous year (this shit takes 5ever and it’s dumb) and did better in about the only way I could have, so that was good to see.

I had about 10 county people in my classroom (principals, academic coaches, etc) to see a certain style of teaching ELA that the county is working on. It’s basically making sure that teachers keep students engaged in complex text (which is what I do almost every day anyway) and I had been to two of these trainings already, so I knew what sort of lesson worked. Well...they LOVED it!!! The kids were in small groups and did SO GOOD discussing evidence/answering questions (they all got candy afterwards) and I got some good feedback about how I talk to my students. Then that same day the superintendent came in my room (one of several rooms he visited while doing his yearly observation on the principal). That visit was super unannounced, but still fine.

The academic coach got rid of my classroom’s desks and found tables and chairs instead!!!! My classroom is tiny and weird shaped, so this works SO MUCH BETTER.

I help coach volleyball (aka I keep the books) and the girls won district (beating out a team with a redneck grandma in the stands who literally came up to our girls and yelled at them for cheering on their own damn team in the previous game). They didn’t do so well at sectionals, but that’s ok.

October

Holy shit I won another $200 in that drawing!!! And this time my parents let me buy them plane tickets so we could see family over Christmas.

LESLIE ODOM JR CAME TO MY CITY AND HE PERFORMED BEAUTIFUL MUSIC AND I WAS THERE AND I DIED

Got to see a lot of family at my cousin’s ‘wedding party’ (he got married last year in Europe since he met his now wife over there, and wanted to have a family party here). I learned that my uncle and his son dance exactly the same at the same level of alcohol.

November

I should have known something was up when my first 9 weeks went so well. Apparently my county is in the bottom tier for the state, and now everyone is freaking out (never mind that the data to support this was mONTHS LATE AND BASED ON STANDARDIZED TESTS WHICH WERE A CLUSTERFUCK TO BEGIN WITH) so there was a lot of school stress during this time.

Nice things though- got to see friends when their baby was baptized and went home for Thanksgiving, where my dad came into the Catholic Church.

I organized most of the 8th grade field trip for the semester- going to see “A Christmas Carol” put on by my old college’s theatre. I was stressed the entire time because if something went wrong it would be on ME, but it was absolutely wonderful and I cried which honestly surprised me. We went to the local mall for our lunch and it was good to see the kids just relax. It was a great field trip and several people including the principal thanked me for my hard work which felt great after a hard month.

December

School was nothing but survival mode per usual.

Hosted the Christmas party for my friend group at church and it was a lot of fun.

The actual break was fast- we flew to Texas with one of my mom’s sisters and her family to visit their brother and his family. I hadn’t been to Texas since high school, so it was fun to explore and eat good food.

My final count for books was 93 (67 new and 26 reread) (I’m trying to finish an audiobook I’m borrowing from the library but I still have 80 minutes left and literally 4 hours to finish it so we’ll see!!!).

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #2017

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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Author Adib Khorram Is Always Looking for His Next Meal

Khorram talks to Eater about writing food scenes, the concept of the “cultural iceberg,” and tea — and reads an excerpt from his YA novel, Darius the Great Is Not Okay

In Adib Khorram’s novel Darius the Great Is Not Okay, protagonist Darius Kellner, a self-described “Fractional Persian,” visits Iran with his mother, father, and younger sister. There, he comes to terms with his identity and his place in his family, he strikes a new friendship with Sohrab, and he eats a whole lot of food. Darius also loves tea — it’s a ritual that calms him, and one he can share with his dad, with whom he doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye.

Like Darius, Khorram loves food and tea too, which is why it plays such a large role in his first novel, as well as the sequel, Darius the Great Deserves Better, which comes out on August 25 and is currently available for pre-order. In the new book, there’s plenty of food scenes — “food plays a big role because as always, I was hungry when I was writing,” says Khorram, and he teases that, yes, there’s plenty of Iranian food, tea, and even breakfast for dinner. (Khorram also has a children’s book, Seven Special Somethings, coming out next spring, all about Nowruz.)

During Eater Book Club, Khorram shared that he likes Harney & Sons and Steven Smith Teamaker as tea brands, and for Iranian tea, he suggests a mix of Assam and Earl Grey, or looking for Iranian tea blends. He recommends people who want to cook Persian food for the first time start with the cookbook New Food of Life by Najmieh Batmanglij. His favorite local bookstores are Rainy Day Books in Fairway, Kansas, and the Raven Bookstore in Lawrence, Kansas.

Below, find an excerpt from Darius the Great Is Not Okay, which Khorram read live for Eater Book Club on Instagram Live with host Sonia Chopra on Thursday, April 2, as part of the Eater @ Home virtual event series.

I gave the horseshoe knocker three quick raps. Mahvash Rezaei answered. There was a smear of white powder across her forehead, and some had gotten into her eyebrows, too, but she smiled when she saw me—that same squinting smile she had passed down to her son.

“Alláh-u-Abhá, Darioush!”

“Um.”

I always felt weird, if someone said “Alláh-u-Abhá” to me, because I wasn’t sure if I should say it back—if I was even allowed to—since I wasn’t Bahá’í and I didn’t believe in God.

The Picard didn’t count.

“Come in!”

I pulled my Vans off and set them in the corner next to Sohrab’s slender shoes.

There was a wooden partition separating the entryway from the rest of the house, with shelves covered in pictures and candles and phone chargers. The rugs were white and green with gold accents, and they didn’t have little tassels on them like Mamou’s. The house felt cozy, like a Hobbit-hole.

The air was heavy with the scent of baking bread. Real, homemade bread, not the mass-produced Subway kind.

“Have you eaten? You want anything?”

“I’m okay. I had breakfast.”

“Are you sure?” She steered me toward the kitchen. “It’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure. I thought I should come visit, since it’s the day after Nowruz.”

I felt very Persian.

“You are so sweet.”

Darius Kellner. Sweet.

I liked that Sohrab’s mom thought that about me.

I really did.

“You are sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m okay. I had qottab before I came.”

“Your grandma makes the best qottab.”

Technically, I had not tasted all the possibilities, but I agreed with Mahvash Rezaei in principle.

“She sent some with me,” I said, holding out the plastic container I’d brought.

Mahvash Rezaei’s eyes bugged out, and I was reminded of a Klingon warrior. Her personality was too big and mercurial to be contained in a frail human body.

“Thank you! Thank your grandma for me!”

Khanum Rezaei set the qottab aside and went back to the counter by her oven. It was dusted with flour, which explained the mysterious white powder on her face.

Her sink was overflowing with whole romaine lettuce leaves, bathing under the running water. I wondered if it was for the bread. I didn’t know of any Iranian recipes that involved baking romaine lettuce into bread, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any.

“Um.”

“It’s Sohrab’s favorite,” Khanum Rezaei said, nodding toward the sink. “He and his dad love it.”

Sohrab’s dad.

I felt so bad for him.

Also, I felt confused, because I didn’t know anyone whose favorite food was romaine lettuce.

Sohrab Rezaei contained multitudes.

“Can you take it outside for me?” Mrs. Rezaei scooped the leaves into a colander, banged it on the sink a few times, and handed it to me. “Put it on the table. I’ll go get Sohrab.”

The Rezaeis’ garden was very different from Babou’s. There were no fruit trees, no planters of jasmine, only long rows of hyacinths and a collection of huge pots filled with different herbs. The largest was right next to the kitchen—it was nearly two feet across and three feet high—and it was being assimilated by fresh mint.

Mint is the Borg of herbs. If you let it, it will take over each and every patch of ground it encounters, adding the soil’s biological and technological distinctiveness to its own.

There was a charcoal grill in the middle of the garden, the big round kind that looked like a miniature red Starbase. The only table was a Ping-Pong table, close to the door where I stood holding the dripping romaine leaves.

“Khanum Rezaei?”

There was no answer.

Was the Ping-Pong table the one I was supposed to put the romaine on?

Did Iranians say Ping-Pong, or did they say table tennis?

We didn’t cover the history of Ping-Pong/table tennis in Iran during our Net Sports Unit in physical education, which now seemed like a ridiculous oversight.

Khanum Rezaei popped up behind me. I almost dropped the lettuce in fright.

“I forgot this,” she said, squeezing behind me and flapping a giant white-and-blue tablecloth over the Ping-Pong table. It tented up over the little posts for the net. “You can spread the leaves out to dry some.”

“Okay.” I did what she asked, spreading the leaves out so they overlapped as little as possible. The water seeped into the tablecloth, turning it translucent.

“Darioush!”

Sohrab grabbed me around the shoulders from behind and swayed me back and forth.

My neck tingled.

“Oh. Hi.”

He was wearing plaid pajama pants so huge, he could have fit his entire body down one leg. They were cinched around his waist with a drawstring. I could tell because he had tucked his green polo shirt into his pants.

As soon as Sohrab saw the lettuce, he let me go and ran back inside, talking to his mom in Farsi at warp 9.

I had become invisible.

As I watched Sohrab through the doorway, he seemed younger somehow, swimming in his pajama pants with his shirt tucked in.

I knew without him saying it that he was missing his dad.

I felt terrible for him.

And I felt terrible feeling sorry for myself. Another Nowruz had come and gone for Sohrab without his father, and I was worried about feeling invisible.

But then Sohrab looked back at me as I watched him from the doorway, and his eyes squinted up again. His smile was a supernova.

“Darioush, you like sekanjabin?”

“What?”

“Sekanjabin. You’ve had it?”

“No,” I said. “What is it?

He pulled a short, wide-mouthed jar out of the fridge, said something quick to his mom, and came back outside. “It’s mint syrup. Here.” He unscrewed the jar, shook the water off a piece of lettuce, and dipped it in the sauce.

If his face was a supernova before, it became an accretion disc—one of the brightest objects in the universe—as soon as he tasted his lettuce.

I loved that Sohrab could be transported like that.

I took a tiny leaf and tried the sauce. It was sweet and minty, but there was something sour too.

“Vinegar?”

“Yes. Babou always adds a little.”

“Babou made this?”

“Yes. You never had it?”

“No. I never heard of it before.”

How did I not know my grandfather made sekanjabin?

How did I not know how delicious sekanjabin was?

“He is famous for it. My dad . . . He always grew extra mint, for Babou to use when he made it.” He gestured out to the garden. “You saw our mint?”

“Yeah.”

“Now it grows too much. Babou hasn’t made it for a while.”

“Oh.”

Sohrab dipped another leaf and then passed me the jar.

It was perfect.

“Thank you for coming over, Darioush.”

“It’s tradition to visit your friends the day after Nowruz.” I took another leaf to dip. “Right?”

Sohrab squeezed my shoulder as he inhaled another piece of lettuce. He nodded and chewed and swallowed and then squinted right at me.

“Right.”

After I helped Sohrab polish off every piece of lettuce on the table—two whole heads—he ran to get dressed, while I watched Khanum Rezaei make her bread. She pounded out the dough with her floured palms, then sprinkled a mixture of dried herbs and spices on top.

“Do you like this bread, Darioush-jan? Noon-e barbari?”

“Um. Yeah. Mom gets it from the Persian bakery sometimes.”

“You don’t make it at home?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll make some for you. You can put it in the freezer and take it home with you.”

“Maman!” Sohrab had reappeared in the doorway, dressed in real pants and a white polo shirt. He said something to his mom in Farsi, something about dinner, but it was too quick. “Come on, Darioush. Let’s go.”

“Um. Thank you,” I said to his mom. I followed Sohrab to the door and laced up my Vans.

There was something he wanted to show me.

Excerpted from Darius the Great Is Not Okay by Adib Khorram, (c) Penguin Young Readers.

Buy Darius the Great Is Not Okay: Penguin Random House | Amazon | Bookshop

Pre-order Darius the Great Deserves Better: Penguin Random House | Amazon | Bookshop

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2UYTcoT https://ift.tt/2xLIbPX

Khorram talks to Eater about writing food scenes, the concept of the “cultural iceberg,” and tea — and reads an excerpt from his YA novel, Darius the Great Is Not Okay

“Alláh-u-Abhá, Darioush!”

“Um.”

The Picard didn’t count.

“Come in!”

I pulled my Vans off and set them in the corner next to Sohrab’s slender shoes.

The air was heavy with the scent of baking bread. Real, homemade bread, not the mass-produced Subway kind.

“Have you eaten? You want anything?”

“I’m okay. I had breakfast.”

“Are you sure?” She steered me toward the kitchen. “It’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure. I thought I should come visit, since it’s the day after Nowruz.”

I felt very Persian.

“You are so sweet.”

Darius Kellner. Sweet.

I liked that Sohrab’s mom thought that about me.

I really did.

“You are sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m okay. I had qottab before I came.”

“Your grandma makes the best qottab.”

Technically, I had not tasted all the possibilities, but I agreed with Mahvash Rezaei in principle.

“She sent some with me,” I said, holding out the plastic container I’d brought.

Mahvash Rezaei’s eyes bugged out, and I was reminded of a Klingon warrior. Her personality was too big and mercurial to be contained in a frail human body.

“Thank you! Thank your grandma for me!”

Khanum Rezaei set the qottab aside and went back to the counter by her oven. It was dusted with flour, which explained the mysterious white powder on her face.

“Um.”

“It’s Sohrab’s favorite,” Khanum Rezaei said, nodding toward the sink. “He and his dad love it.”

Sohrab’s dad.

I felt so bad for him.

Also, I felt confused, because I didn’t know anyone whose favorite food was romaine lettuce.

Sohrab Rezaei contained multitudes.

“Can you take it outside for me?” Mrs. Rezaei scooped the leaves into a colander, banged it on the sink a few times, and handed it to me. “Put it on the table. I’ll go get Sohrab.”

Mint is the Borg of herbs. If you let it, it will take over each and every patch of ground it encounters, adding the soil’s biological and technological distinctiveness to its own.

“Khanum Rezaei?”

There was no answer.

Was the Ping-Pong table the one I was supposed to put the romaine on?

Did Iranians say Ping-Pong, or did they say table tennis?

We didn’t cover the history of Ping-Pong/table tennis in Iran during our Net Sports Unit in physical education, which now seemed like a ridiculous oversight.

Khanum Rezaei popped up behind me. I almost dropped the lettuce in fright.

“Okay.” I did what she asked, spreading the leaves out so they overlapped as little as possible. The water seeped into the tablecloth, turning it translucent.

“Darioush!”

Sohrab grabbed me around the shoulders from behind and swayed me back and forth.

My neck tingled.

“Oh. Hi.”

As soon as Sohrab saw the lettuce, he let me go and ran back inside, talking to his mom in Farsi at warp 9.

I had become invisible.

As I watched Sohrab through the doorway, he seemed younger somehow, swimming in his pajama pants with his shirt tucked in.

I knew without him saying it that he was missing his dad.

I felt terrible for him.

And I felt terrible feeling sorry for myself. Another Nowruz had come and gone for Sohrab without his father, and I was worried about feeling invisible.

But then Sohrab looked back at me as I watched him from the doorway, and his eyes squinted up again. His smile was a supernova.

“Darioush, you like sekanjabin?”

“What?”

“Sekanjabin. You’ve had it?”

“No,” I said. “What is it?

If his face was a supernova before, it became an accretion disc—one of the brightest objects in the universe—as soon as he tasted his lettuce.

I loved that Sohrab could be transported like that.

I took a tiny leaf and tried the sauce. It was sweet and minty, but there was something sour too.

“Vinegar?”

“Yes. Babou always adds a little.”

“Babou made this?”

“Yes. You never had it?”

“No. I never heard of it before.”

How did I not know my grandfather made sekanjabin?

How did I not know how delicious sekanjabin was?

“He is famous for it. My dad . . . He always grew extra mint, for Babou to use when he made it.” He gestured out to the garden. “You saw our mint?”

“Yeah.”

“Now it grows too much. Babou hasn’t made it for a while.”

“Oh.”

Sohrab dipped another leaf and then passed me the jar.

It was perfect.

“Thank you for coming over, Darioush.”

“It’s tradition to visit your friends the day after Nowruz.” I took another leaf to dip. “Right?”

Sohrab squeezed my shoulder as he inhaled another piece of lettuce. He nodded and chewed and swallowed and then squinted right at me.

“Right.”

“Do you like this bread, Darioush-jan? Noon-e barbari?”

“Um. Yeah. Mom gets it from the Persian bakery sometimes.”

“You don’t make it at home?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll make some for you. You can put it in the freezer and take it home with you.”

“Um. Thank you,” I said to his mom. I followed Sohrab to the door and laced up my Vans.

There was something he wanted to show me.

Excerpted from Darius the Great Is Not Okay by Adib Khorram, (c) Penguin Young Readers.

Buy Darius the Great Is Not Okay: Penguin Random House | Amazon | Bookshop

Pre-order Darius the Great Deserves Better: Penguin Random House | Amazon | Bookshop

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2UYTcoT via Blogger https://ift.tt/2yzWCah

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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nikkiferncapp-blog · 7 years

Text

Let’s Talk About It: Thanksgrieving

For the record: Nope. Nope. Nope. I don’t want to eat a turkey right now. I don’t want to talk about my blessings. And I DEFINITELY don’t want to be asked one million times, ‘Are you okay?’.

Because I’m not. I worked the last 3 long days leading up to this horrible holiday for me. I had to hear people complain about how my store could possible run out of elbow macaroni pasta on a holiday like this.

Luckily for my excellent customer service skills - I kept it together. I didn’t want to remind them that they are OK. That their world was not ending because they had to find another type of noddle for Mac & Cheese. My world though? It ended August 23rd of this year when my husband died. THAT was something I could bitch about.

The days leading up to today, I tried to give myself positive thoughts. I tried to surround myself with people who could make me laugh. But here is today - and even though I am currently surrounded by my favorite adopted family members - I am sad as hell. I want to be thankful. I really do. But I miss my husband. I was forever thankful for him and he’s gone now.

Right now, Chris and I would be working. This was the only holiday that we volunteered to work because it was a short day for us. We would get off at 3, then head home real quick to load up the truck (we would be off for the next 2 days) and drive to his parents’ house in San Antonio.

On the way there, we would stop at some fast food place off Mason and i10 (probably Panda Express), eat something real quick to hold us until our rest stop at Buc-ees. Once in SA, we would eat way too much - drink some sour beers or good wine - and chat with his parents’ about work. The next day (Black Friday my favorite day because guess what we did) we would go SHOPPING at the Outlets right after lunch at Cracker Barrel.

We would attempt to visit Grandma before leaving back for Houston Saturday evening and rest up before a busy Sunday at work. That was our Thanksgiving.

My reality this year is different. It’s my Thanksgrieving holiday. However I’m going to change it up. I’m going to talk about some people I’m thankful for this year. Starting with:

Angel Chris - my favorite Aggie. Who taught me how to budget and be an adult, but also empowered me to be a girlboss in all things. He matured me into a better person and gave me the most supportive backbone I’ve ever experienced. God I miss him.

Momma Tam Tam - My Mother In Law who is as much a part of me as Chris is. This women has laughed with me, cried with me, and listening to me vent about insensitive comments that people have made. She has reminded me that I can, and I will, keep living.

Cody - My Brother In Law aka brother aka the funniest person I know. I am so thankful for his bright spirit. He is just as unfiltered as I am, and I cannot tell you what a blessing that is. He makes my heart happy.

Momma Fern - My Mom. I can write this entire blog about how Thankful I am for her. To love my husband as if he were her own, to be there for not only me - but everyone during the funeral process. For the continued check ups and love from the East Coast. Who I am is because of her. I love her so much.

Jessie - Chris’ Turtle. This girl has always loved me as if she knew me her whole life. I have never felt so included in all things - she was the first wedding I was in! She will do anything with me and constantly reminds me how badass I am. Thankful for this sweet lady.

Cousins - Who will travel and do so many crazy things with me, including going to New Orleans and dancing the weekend away. Talk about positive people - there is no times for any sadness with them They are beautiful inside and out and I am so glad to have them be my family.

Chrissie - my NOLA cutie who may be a 6 hour drive away but never lets me feel forgotten. Love this soul who makes the best Creole food ever.

Marisa - My tiny human who has been sucked into this shit storm of family drama thanks to life. ANYONE who can play with your hair and rub your arm till you fall asleep every time she sees you is a Saint.

Mel - Good gravy. Who lets you immediately move in after your husband dies no questions asked? This girl took me in and all my bat shit crazy issues and loves me like family. She feeds me pasta and lets me cuddle with her dog. She also keeps me educated on Pop Culture and will just chill me with when I need to decompress. Thanks Mellie Mel.

Jaya/Eigeges - My adopted family. They’ve been there for every life event and of course we have spent every holiday with them. They remind me that there is good in the life. They remind me to have HOPE.

The Williams - My sweet friends who have been there thru everything. They keep me warm and bubbly and are always down to hangout any where and any time. They keep their home and heart open to me.

Ray Ray Fre$h - My Best Friend. Who continues to drop everything for me when I need her too. Who forces me to do things outside of my comfort zone - but reminds me it is my comfort zone because I’m with her.

Jess & Josh - Although they are an hour away (UGH), they love me like a neighbor. Jess and I have gone thru some pretty serious life shit and yet somehow we are still standing! She is my motivation. She keeps my head up. She is love.

Leadership Ladies - I am so thankful for my store. These ladies keep me laughing! Whether it’s trying to give me a cat or telling me about some Drugs Inc episode, they keep my mind busy and my heart full.

Ernie (Brotatertot) - My constant remind to be positive and happy. He loves me like family and lifts me up constantly. Not just in this season of life, but in all my seasons. He is skilled in life and shares his goodness with me.

Crafty Callie - My Real. That’s who she is because that’s how she keeps it She doesn’t sugar coat and doesn’t hide. She is real. And she is everything I can ask for in a friend. Love her hugs and her sweet dog who only likes me when she’s not there.

Joshy Fern - My brother. He has dealt with a lot in his short life and continues to move forward. His sweet nickname for me reminds me that our bond is blood and I’m thankful to have the same DNA as him.

Bonfire Ags - This group that has adopted me as their own. I love them to my core being. They are my family. They keep their arms open for me and remind me to party hard and have fun.

There are so many other people I haven’t mentioned. Dad, DT, John C, etc., that I am thankful for. For so many reasons I have such amazing reminds that their is life. There is love. There is hope.

Chris - Thank you. More than half this list came from you. You knew what you were doing with you picked me.

XOXO,

NFC

#youngwidow grief hope love cappellistrong cappellisarentquitters thanksgiving thankful prayers faith

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azulblue9 · 7 years

Photo

PRINCE'S BIGGEST FAN WAS A 93-YEAR-OLD CLEVELAND WOMAN & SHE HAD THE MEMORABILIA TO PROVE IT

By ANNIE ZALESKI

Editor's note: After this story was filed, Mary Boyer passed away at the age of 93.

Mary Boyer can remember the exact moment she became a Prince fan. It was July 1984 -- weeks after the release of his groundbreaking LP, Purple Rain -- and a friend invited her to see Prince's ambitious movie of the same name. Incredibly, Boyer was the only person her friend could find to tag along to the theater.

"As soon as [Prince] came on [the screen], my heart just went [makes whooshing noise], and I said, 'I know this guy. I just know him,'" recalls Boyer today. "By the end of the film, that was my guy."

Boyer was no teenager experiencing her first taste of idol worship. At the time she saw Purple Rain, she was 60 years old.

"I DIDN'T INTEND TO BE A COLLECTOR, BUT IF I WENT TO A STORE AND THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE WITH PRINCE, I JUST COULDN'T LEAVE IT."

Buying that movie ticket unwittingly changed her life, transforming her into one of Prince's biggest fans. Over the next few decades, the mother of seven saw the Purple One 25 times, in far-flung locales such as New York, Detroit, Chicago, Canada, and his home base of Minneapolis. In her sprawling house in Cleveland, Boyer even had a dedicated Prince room -- with walls painted purple, of course -- crammed full of memorabilia related to the icon. Photos, magazines, vinyl, posters, CDs, pins, laminates, promo swag -- you name it, chances are Boyer had it. At the peak of her collecting, she had 300 different posters, 100 different T-shirts, and more than 1,200 unique albums in every format.

"I didn't intend to be a collector, but if I went to a store and there was something there with Prince, I just couldn't leave it there," she says. "I bought it, and pretty soon, I had quite a bit of stuff." After her kids moved out, all of that "stuff" found a home in one of their old bedrooms.

"We painted it a light purple, and I just started filling it up." She laughs. "I loved everything I put in there. I was very, very happy with it."

Now 93, Boyer is sitting in the living room of her apartment on the outskirts of Downtown Lakewood. The space is cozy, filled with cherished art, knickknacks, and photos she's picked up over the years. Boyer is fond of collecting things besides Prince-related items -- miniatures, as well as Egyptian and Oriental art, are interests of hers -- although she's downsized her belongings considerably. In the spring, she moved from that giant old house into this current, more compact space.

Scattered here and there, however, are references to her devotion to Prince. A coffee mug featuring variations of his visage is within arm's reach, near a photo book filled with Prince photos. A glossy, soft-glow snap of late-era Prince stares up from behind glass on the top of a nearby desk; a business card from the long-closed, Minneapolis-based New Power Generation, the Prince-owned retail store, is also tucked away. In a nearby hallway is a media rack with several shelves of Prince bootleg DVDs, while in her bedroom is a panoramic photo of the Prince room at its most impressive, along with some of the meaningful tokens she kept -- including a cardboard Purple Rain die-cut stand-up and a healthy selection of framed photos of all sizes, spanning the artist's entire career.

"Take a look around you, at least you got friends"

Also visiting this steamy Friday afternoon in August is Dennis Roszkowski, a photographer and long-time Prince fan from Westland, Michigan, who often visits Boyer and helps out at a local library's events. The pair met in 1989 because of their shared Prince fandom -- an organized, meticulous person, he once cataloged Boyer's memorabilia so she knew what she had -- and remain close friends.

Boyer amassed her Prince collection by visiting local record stores, where she would sometimes find promo vinyl dumped by radio DJs, or by attending record conventions. Employees came to recognize her and her obsession, and would sometimes save special items for her, such as a life-sized cardboard stand-up of Prince circa the 1991 LP Diamonds and Pearls.

In the mid- to late-'90s, Boyer and Roszkowski would also attend regional Prince Fests -- more or less gatherings of diehards to celebrate the artist -- and sell duplicate albums, as well as trade for things she didn't have.

THEY SAW PRINCE FOUR TIMES IN 75 HOURS.

Along with others from the fan community, the pair also attended many Prince concerts and special events: the week-long Prince Celebration at his studio/compound Paisley Park in 2000, appearances at his one-time Minneapolis nightclub, Glam Slam. At one point in 1993, they even saw Prince four times in 75 hours.

Boyer often expressed her admiration for Prince in more direct ways. "She would send letters to Paisley Park for years, and she would send little gifts to Prince," Roszkowski says. "And she would enclose a checklist with a self-addressed stamped envelope [that] said, 'Did Prince see this?' and 'Did he like it?' and they would check off 'Yes, he liked it,' and send it back. She had this connection with them."

Boyer and Roszkowski say that one-time Prince manager Gilbert Davidson and half-brother Duane Nelson (who handled security) were aware of her fandom, and always treated her kindly and with respect when they crossed paths. Although Boyer once had the chance to get a behind-the-scenes tour of Paisley Park and attended shows there, she never actually met and had one-on-one time with Prince. The closest personal experience she had was at an April 1993 after-show at Chicago's Metro, when the artist pulled her up onstage during the first encore.

"He was doing his show, and all of a sudden, towards the end, he said, 'Turn the lights on,'" Boyer recalls. "He said, 'Whose grandma is that down there? We gotta get her up here and have her shake her doodle!' or something like that." Boyer laughs. "And then he sang this song 'Johnny' -- it's a little risqué, shall we say. And I know he did it to see if it would embarrass me a little. Then during the song, I was supposed to sing this 'oh-oh-oh-oh' [part], and I didn't do it very good.

"And he gives me that look," Boyer continues, referencing the sassy, quasi-exasperated glance for which Prince was known. "I hit him on his arm, and he had me do it again, and I did it. And he just laughed and then gave me a big, big hug. And I was so happy. I just wanted him to know that I really liked him. It wasn't that I had to be seeing him all the time. But you know how you want somebody to know that…"

They mean a lot to you?

"Yeah," she says. "That was a high moment in my life."

"I only want to see you in the Purple Rain"

Born in Fargo, North Dakota, Boyer and her family moved to Lakewood when she was a toddler. She grew up there and went to Lakewood High School, which is where she met her late husband, Jim. She was a member of a sorority; he was a member of a fraternity. One afternoon, the pair happened to see each other at a local ice cream store.

"I was in there talking to some guy, and Jim came in," Boyer recalls. "And the guy said to him, 'Do you have a date for the Friday night dance?' And he goes, 'No.' [The other guy] says, 'Why don't you take Mary? She's a lot of fun.' And he says, 'Do you want to go?' And I said, 'Yeah.' Because he was real cute."

Music entered her life after the couple started having children. Her second-oldest son, Wink -- who "was a hippie, shall we say," Boyer says -- introduced her to Jefferson Airplane's Surrealistic Pillow. That LP changed everything. From there, Boyer started embracing the then-new music of the day, such as Leon Russell and the Rolling Stones. She also started going to shows, among them, Neil Young, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Elton John, and David Bowie's first US concert.

"I was the cool house," Boyer says with a laugh. "That's probably why it was easy for me to get into Prince. It wasn't like it was strange, because I was used to going to concerts. We did go to a lot of concerts, and my kids, of course, thought I was a 'cool' mother."

Jim was also 100% supportive of Mary's Prince fandom, which may have surprised some. "[People would say], 'How come it doesn't bother you?'" Boyer says. "[And he said] 'I'd rather have her doing that than sitting around crocheting something.' He liked the idea that I had young friends, because he didn't like to do a lot, except play golf. He didn't have to entertain me, because I was doing my own entertaining."

Incredibly, however, in recent years, Boyer has sold off and otherwise given away a large portion of her Prince memorabilia. Even stranger, "it didn't bother me at all," she says. In part that's because she's been preoccupied dealing with health issues, and uses oxygen as she gets around. ("I hate it," she says vehemently about that.) But Boyer also has the remarkable personality trait where she's able to switch gears and hobbies on a dime -- and never look back.

"I have this kind of a life where every 10 years, I changed," she explains. "Until I was in my, say, 40s, I was a mother, and never went anywhere. In my 40s, my husband and I started to go out square dancing. We did what they call challenge, so that you had to go to workshops and stuff. When I hit my 50s, I went to [local community college] Tri-C and took classes in astrology, and I became an astrologer. I was that for 10 years -- doing readings. And then I went to a Prince movie -- that changed that, and then I gradually stopped doing official astrology things.

"Every time I changed, I dropped the other thing almost completely," Boyer says. "That must be why when I was ready, getting tired of everything I had -- why I was able to do it."

"And no regrets," adds Roszkowski. "You brought your favorite things here."

"Life is just a party, and parties weren't meant to last"

In an odd coincidence, Roszkowski was helping Boyer move out of her house and into her apartment on the same day news broke that Prince had passed away. He recalls that his hands were shaking as he set up his laptop to read more about the news. "Mary looked at me and said, 'What's wrong?'" Roszkowski says. "And I said, 'Mary, Prince just died.' And I just remember her saying, 'I always thought that I would be in heaven before Prince.'" In the background, Boyer chuckles slightly.

The mood in the apartment turns reflective, as Roszkowski ruminates on the reactions he and Boyer received from people they had met because of his music. "The amazing thing about that day, is that all Prince fans that we know, we just started hearing from people we hadn't heard from in years," he says. "Every Prince fan can tell the same story: they know where they were when they heard, and how they were feeling. Everybody's phone just blew up -- people started calling, sending text messages. 'Oh my god, have you heard the news?' It was such a surreal moment.

"We relied on phone calls that we were getting from friends," he adds. "And consoling each other, and trying to figure out, 'Wow. What's the world like without Prince?' Because you just can't believe it.'"

Roszkowski's thoughts summarize the unique impact of music fandom: people bond over their love of a certain artist or band -- seeing shows together, chatting online, sharing stories, maybe swapping bootlegs -- and seamlessly translate this connection into real-life, deep friendships. The Prince fandom is especially dedicated, however. In fact, Roszkowski says it was "meant to be" that he and Boyer happened to be in the same city on the day of Prince's death, as it was symbolic of the treasured connections facilitated by his art and music.

"WHAT'S THE WORLD LIKE WITHOUT PRINCE?"

"His concerts were unlike anything you saw," Roszkowski says. "You'd go there, and there was just a whole mixture of people -- ages and races -- and everybody just got together and had a wonderful time. It seemed like the Prince world was a great melting pot of people. You wished the whole world could be together having a good time, and peaceful.

"That's not what the world's like, in many respects. It is if you look for it; you can find it. And we found it with Prince. There was a connection with him that brought us all together, and we always talked about, 'Wow. Look at what we did -- together.' Just my friendship with Mary, between the two of us, what we've done, is fantastic. I'm grateful for it every day."

Boyer quietly chimes in. "I have to say, I've had a very happy life," she says. "When I was being the mom in my 30s, I loved it; when I was square dancing, I loved it. When I was in astrology, I loved it. When I [was into] Prince, I loved it."

And Boyer has her own take as to why there is such an intangible (but enduring) bond between Prince fans. It's not complicated -- but it's a theory that's as playful and laconic as the Purple One himself.

"We're all smart," she simply says, with a laugh. "As my daughter said, 'Mom, I’m glad you're smart enough to know [Prince] was a genius.'"

Mary Boyer ~ R.I.P.

Source:

https://www.thrillist.com/lifestyle/cleveland/mary-boyer-lakewood-prince-memorabilia-collection

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years

Text

My life story - part 14

7th GRADE - beginning of

A few weeks before 7th grade started for me, my mother moved out of the Welfare Apartments – as my father called them, and into Roxanne's father's upstairs. Roxanne moved into the basement. It was the same home he had always lived in. The same home she had married him in nearly 20 years before. So I imagine it was strange. He was getting sicker. I am not sure what he had. Cancer I think. His feet were always swelling up. Because he was a dying drunk nobody came around. He had at one time many drinking friends, but this is generally always what happens to drunks when they die. Everyone disappears, all the fair weather friends – unless they are family and they are looking for money. I think my mom was probably considering this situation as having potential for her own self.

I had always been afraid of Roxanne's father and I tried to stay away from him. The house was creepy as fuck, by the way. I have talked about ghosts off and on in this story of mine so far. I have more ghosts stories yet to unfold. But I will tell you one thing. This house had something very wrong in it. You just felt sick energy in this place. I mostly hung out in the upstairs room, and I started drawing. I had pretty much conquered the Alien Girls by this time. I had created a legendary fantasy map of their entire continent. We made all the places where our millions of girls could live. Fire people lived in the fire area. Tree people lived in the Forest Realm – ecetera ecetera. I ended up finding this big box of bad 70's porn in the closet. I remember finding this magazine that had a closeup of a vagina. I stared at it forever, trying for the life of me to figure out what I was looking at. It was like the eye of a disturbing space alien from an 80's television show, at least I thought so – until it dawned on me. The box of magazines disturbed me more than it made me curious, and I put the magazine away.

There was another room upstairs that was entirely dedicated to Dick's love for pornography I was told later from Roxanne. I never went in there. After a few weeks of this, I told my mom I didn't really want to be there anymore and I was given permission to just stay at my father's during the weekend until she figured out another place to stay. It was at the edge of town – closer to this wheat field area called Tammany. You always felt like something was angry and glaring at you. It just felt weird to be in this dying man's home with evil spirits.

It was my birthday on the 25th of August. I have always resented the date of my birth, because in my part of the world it's hot and dry and awful. And school starts generally if not on that very day – then a few days before or after. This means that most of my birthday presents are actually school supplies. I don't know how many pencil holders I have unwrapped. How many rulers, eraser sets. It's a little disappointing, especially when you get older and you become privy to the shtick.

On the 25 of August, 2001, in a rare turn of events, I was invited to Samantha's home for a sleepover. This did not happen often. Sam didn't really like me, so I didn't get invited over that often. Also, her father just didn't give Sam any breaks at all. He was an alcoholic lawyer (strangely, Dick whom I mentioned above had also been an alcoholic lawyer), and her life was micromanaged. Her grandma lived in another part of the trailer court, and she had nothing better to do than to call Sam from across the way every thirty minutes to make sure Sam was NEVER wasting time. Her father made her work in the garden – they had a rather large garden you could see from the highway, and with that money what he didn't pocket he put in her college savings. Samantha, as the only girl in the house was everyone's maid. She was to keep her room absolutely spotless. Her father's room and her brother's room as well. Her grades had to be 95% or higher or she was grounded. Almost everything she did would cause her to be grounded. There were times when she was staying the night at Sarah's and her father would randomly call and be yelling at her over the phone and make her come home. Her life was so unfair. I know my dad was abusive towards me at times. But honestly, I probably suffered from a lack of structure more than I did an overabundance of authoritarian rigidity.

So it was unusual that I was invited for several reasons, but I was. And it was my birthday so I thought, 'why not?' I was warned that Samantha's fourth cousin – Katie was visiting. Katie, as I was told, was actually in the class above me, but I had never paid great attention to the kids in the class above. I was warned that Katie would be rough with me. And she was. As soon as I got there, she said things like “Who the fuck are you?”. She was very tomboyish. She didn't say things in the valley girl snotty way you might imagine, but more like a trucker who you had pissed off in some dive bar somewhere between here and South Dakota. When we were playing Pokemon Stadium 2, and I was winning at Chansey Egg Catching – or whathaveyou (of course I would win because I had dedicated the previous two years to Pokemon), she called me a bitch and threw the controller at me. I didn't take this all that personal. I was told that this was just the way that Katie was towards new people. But once she liked me, she would be a loyal friend. I shrugged the whole thing off. I wasn't particularly interested in a friend like that.

Sarah-Mae really wanted me to make a good 'cool' impression of myself in our new positions as 7th graders. 7th graders are always given kind of an unfair time. I imagine this is just as true in the 40's as it is today. Everyone scoffs at them. But I mean, at some point everyone has to be a 7th grader, and there has to be a bottom to the school. Not everyone can be a senior. I probably made a terrible impression though, because my mom had these hippie tunics with wild hippie designs on them. I really liked them. I remember being so excited when my mom was packing and she gave them to me. I had always looked at them in her clothing drawer, and always thought they were really cool. They were comfortable, and they actually fit me. And they had all those colors. The rest of the school made a big deal about them though. I guess they bordered on absurd, and each day I wore them Sarah and Samantha made sure I knew that I looked really bad. Peer pressure finally had the best of me, and I put them away for good after a few months.

At the peak of drawing Alien Girls, Sarah and I decided as a group to stop drawing them. The thing was, their eyes were so large and on the side of their heads. You got the very good impression that their eyes swooped around the other side of their skulls, in behind their hair. There was no clear indication that they had a real nose and their mouths were super low. They had no cheekbones. They were designed from the imagination of an eight year old girl, and it would be hard to improve as an artist if I carried on with them. On one angle, they were drawable. But you could never make them look reasonably okay from the side, or at any other angle. Their anatomy left more questions than answers.

So, Sarah had been watching Card Captures Sakura, and I got really intrigued by anime, so we started drawing that instead. My first comic idea was pretty lousy. It was the typical three school girl deal – based on me Sarah and Samantha kind of, where they all get swept into a magic place after school and had to fight evil monsters. I was extremely jealous of Sarah's comic. On one hand, I had always been very good at designing clothes and pretty faces. My first story was no good, but overall, my story lines were more compelling and my character profiles were better developed. But Sarah had a much better concept of drawing movement and facial expressions. She could draw wings, and she could do interesting shadowing. There was something about her art itself that gave it more life than my art did. I grew pretty jealous of her art actually, and this feeling of inferiority set me back quite a few years in the long run. We kept drawing together though.

Sarah's mom moved into a new bigger home. It was an old home, not as old as mine was, but pretty old. It was at the top of the hill that I lived at the bottom of. It was next door to where that old man, Bucky used to live. The back patio looked down over a steep ledge that led one hundred feet more or less straight down to the main road towards the end of town. You could also see the Junior/Senior high school from there (they were one in the same since the community was small). There were rumors that a native American girl had fallen to her death on that ledge in the 20's, and when I looked out the window and really thought about it, I worried that something might erode under the house and cause the building to topple down the cliff.

The house had been the Browns house, so it was a bit gross at first and had to be cleaned up a fair amount. Carol had always been good at renovating places though, so she got it cleaned up quite nicely. My niece, Sagen's uncle on her father's side had killed himself in the front yard we were told back in the 80's. So the place carried with it a sense of disaster. Most of the time it was peaceful, but there were some strange things that happened later on that I will get to at a later time.

Sarah's mom also got a new steady boyfriend. His name was Jim. He was this quiet nervous little man with a round face and a Santaesque beard. Like Carol, he was really into old antiques. He lived in this little hut thing that was part of a brick building in the back streets of Kendrick. He fixed cars to get by in a garage next to his hut. He also did some kind of work out in the woods, but I was never sure what that was. His dream was to someday go prospecting and find a rare precious Idaho gem that would set him up for life. He collected lots of old stuff. He was borderline a hoarder. There was old things all over the outside and inside of his little building. His claim to fame was that he had at one time owned one of the very first Indian motorcycles, and he had sold it to Jay Leno. So Jay Leno had come to our little town. He moved in with Carol when they got together, but he still kept his little hut.

My dad around this time started worrying that I was spending too much time around a 'liberal' adult. My father being a republican, was not too pleased with the fact that Carol was a liberal. In his mind, he seemed to think that she actually had the will and want to indoctrinate me to her political beliefs. My dad listened to conservative talk radio all day. I think in his mind, the world was getting very black and white. In all reality, Carol really wasn't the kind of person to even consider it important. And if she had any will or want to indoctrinate me with anything, I believe she would have indoctrinated me with the common sense not to stomp and speak loudly after she went to bed around 7:00 pm – insanely early, or to wipe my feet before I came into the house. Or perhaps to put my dishes away.

It was the fall of 2001 that my dad got our first computer. Up to that point, I hadn't really known what the internet was. I had heard that it existed, but given that what interested me was mostly doing things in the real world, what I could put on paper or read off one, I didn't see the point in it. My father was given a used computer from my Uncle Bob, who, given his position as a regional super attendant's super attendant, was well familiar with computers and wanted to be able to communicate with our family more. So he gave us his old Window's 98.

My dad actually went to these really corny classes, with the corniest how-to manuals on how to use the computer in the most basic of ways. We went to a local woman's house who facilitated the classes. We actually had to be told that the thing that we used to move the cursor on the screen was called a 'Mouse'. I remember as they told us this, I looked out the window, and there was a cat in their drive way torturing and slowly eating a you guessed it – a mouse. So from then on, I have always associated the computer mouse with that tortured mouse I saw that fall evening of 2001. I had used computers and all, I just hadn't known that the computer mouse was called that.

At first all I really understood was my father's email address. So I figured that you sent letters to someone every single day – that must be something you should do. I started writing my Aunt Sylvia. I didn't really know her at all. I decided to make up this fantasy tale about these brothers and sisters who all had these magic powers and had to get back their places as princes and princesses. She really liked it, and I think this was probably because, though I didn't know it at the time, my aunt Sylvia was obsessed with fairies. Her job was to design those kind of corny fairies that sparkle that people used to put on their websites or personal pages. I also looked at every single Pokemon site I could find. I distinctly remember this website with terrible graphics. You basically just put Pokemon on a frying pan and fried them up. It wasn't really graphic, and it looked more like colors smooshing together. I also found every cheat for my gameboy, and I essentially ruined the game for myself by having too much power.

Samantha had started going to chat rooms to talk to boys. I didn't see the appeal to this at all, but since Samantha was doing it, and Sarah had done it a few times, I decided to do it too. I was the absolute worst. I went into these chat rooms, and I didn't want to tell them I was a twelve year old, so I lied about my age. When they asked me questions, I told them really dumb stupid things. I generally didn't do anything productive or say anything meaningful. I more often than not, would go into a chatroom and do something like say the same stupid word over and over again till everyone in the chatroom was gone. I don't know why I did this really. Once again, power trip I guess.

When I witnessed the first pop-up telling me that we had won a million dollars, I believed it. I remember feeling shocked and almost frightened. I got up and told my father the news. He laughed and let me know that it was just an ad. Again, I also believed the Nigerian Queen who needed to funnel money into the US or something like that. I wholeheartedly believed that queen was in need of help and we would be rewarded handsomely for our troubles. I think my father wanted to believe it, but in the end knew better. I also immediately took to MS Paint. I started drawing pictures to explain my entire day. Usually just three or four moments of the day that really stood out. Like, I forgot to do my homework, or I tripped and fell. I eventually had hundreds of pictures illustrating my life. When we had gotten our first virus, my father deleted all my pictures, foolishly believing that having too many paint pictures saved was somehow the cause of it.

One of the problems I sort of caused with these pictures was – I think I must have had a lot of pent up anger and resentments for Sarah and Samantha by this time. For years, they had told me I was ugly, stupid, annoying. I had been told to shut up I don't know how many times. I felt embarrassed by my very existence. I always felt there was something wrong with me. I distinctly remember Sarah telling someone else that I was more of her dog than someone she would consider a friend. I just carried this ball of self loathing and anger with me at all times. When I was given the power over the computer, I used it to draw ugly versions of both of them. I drew Sarah with a point banana nose and tiny little slanted eyes. I highlighted the fact that she had zits like me, only her's were tiny and colorless, but I made sure that the illustration I did of her came with a magnifying glass to highlight this underlooked fact. With Samantha, I made her eyes bulgy and boyish. I made it so her brain only thought of math. Her face was spotted like a pizza. I drew one of myself – ugly as well, with chubby cheeks, frizzy hair, double chin, stupid big lips and zits as well. These pictures were mean, but I took strange joy in making them. I showed them to Sarah and Samantha. They were upset. I think Sarah almost cried. I think these pictures probably reflected a certain resentment that I wasn't even conscious of at the time. I didn't understand why they were upset. I had gotten very used to their insults. It seemed strange to me that when I found my own way of doing it back to them. I didn't have to say mean things. I could just draw it instead.

My very favorite thing to do though, was to look at anime pictures on a website that doesn't exist anymore. I can't really imagine it now, though I am on tumblr all day sometimes so I should probably not be that shocked with myself, but I honestly loved nothing better than to stare at the same twenty or so anime pictures all day. I somehow didn't tire of this at all. I remember also that I fell in love with the first – and aside from Jack the Skeleton when I was very young- only complete and total cartoon character. It was the main male protagonist on a show called Escaflowne. I never watched the show till I was way older, and I was disappointed and annoyed at the animation when I finally did see it – couldn't even finish the first episode, but for some reason just from seeing some fanart I was totally into this dude – don't know his name now and don't care to look it up. Now, as an adult, and as someone who can draw anime a little bit but doesn't want to anymore, I try very hard not to judge all the young nerdy teenagers who are in love with anime characters and go about drawing them in romantic settings all the time. I try very hard not to judge, but I generally fail and I judge them anyway. However, I have had a few times in my life when I got really interested in anime. I think those spells are over for me now – we'll see. I loved these anime pictures so much that I sometimes would check out and go home early on days when my father wasn't home just so I could have extra time to look at these pictures.

In the eyes of some, this was the beginning of the end for me. I have been addicted to the internet ever since. I found an escape ladder out of reality, into a world with unlimited information and inspiration, where the painful biting reality had lost it's edge, and I was heightened somehow into an ethereal version of the world that I could make for myself. A place where I could express myself freely, or find just about anything I needed, and somewhere that I could avoid feeling anxious. I could be a new person, or a better version of myself. I would go on and off with having access to the internet throughout my young life, but ultimately, I became an addict the second I figured this all out.

A week before our classes started at the new big school, we went to this orientation. We had this freakish man at the time as our principal. I am not the only person who thought he bore a striking resemblance to Hitler. It was hard at the time for most people not to see the comparisons. He had the same mustache. He was twitchy and tried very hard to be commanding, though it came off weak and stiff. He would follow up with nervous laughter. Much thinner than Hitler, and less angry. He wasn't Hitler. That isn't a fair analogy. It is almost never fair to compare someone to Hitler. His name was Mr. Hendrickson. Naturally, he didn't grow too fond of me over the years.

I had to give up band. I really loved playing the bass drum. Was I great? No. I was okay. I had played the instrument for two or three years. Samantha was the snare drummer, and she actually was very talented. And it was the one thing that Samantha and I had in common. She ordinarily didn't like me, but when we played drums in the back of our band practices every other day, we were basically friends just as we had been as kindergartners. I had wanted to stay in high school band, but there was already a bass drummer and he had seniority over me. Plus, he actually was talented. I was not particularly talented. Samantha was accepted as a drummer, and Sarah – who had always played the clarinet stayed in band. They tried to put me in choir – but I protested, which was understandable since the very thought of singing in a group was horrendously embarrassing to me. The eventually put me in a Study Skills class.

Study Skills was run by a very tall square headed, plain looking man who had this threatening vibe, but was probably the calmest and most boring fellow who ever worked in that school. Mr. Forestman. The only thing that seemed to get his goat was when you called him Mr. Foreskin. He was actually just the basketball coach. He just overlooked the Study Skills class as an extra detail. We were given planners. All we had to do was demonstrate that we used our daily planners and the rest of the time we could use to do homework or to chat. It was in this class that I got to learn the more juicier details of my classmate's lives, and the lives of different kids in the school in general. There was a group of boys, and a group of girls. I sat alone at the weird person table in the corner by myself and drew. He didn't like it when I drew, and would tell me to stop sometimes. I am pretty sure I didn't use any of this time wisely. I would mostly listen to them gossip. I had no idea my classmates were having so much drama. I had been caught so deep in my own Alien Girl – anime girl land that I didn't realize.

One day this crazy fellow walked into the Study Skills class. I had heard him being talked about for years of my life. Everyone said he was crazy. And yet, I had never actually taken a look at him before – at least not consciously. I wasn't even sure if he was a student or not at first. His name as people called him was Double D. His real name was Daniel. But almost nobody but a few of the more sensitive teachers called him by his real name. He had facial expressions that were always shocking. His mouth stretched across the entirety of his face. His eyes were giant and bulged and black. He never seemed to blink. He spoke in a loud overly pronouncing voice. It was the voice that someone would make if they were to imitate a geek, only more extreme. He used phrases you might hear an elderly person make. Like, you knew the phrase, but nobody in high school would ever describe something in that way. Every single thing about this guy was weird. His movements seemed unnatural. He also wore women's matching sweaters and sweater pants. And he had a cape. He wore a cape half the time he came to school. He also had one of those small cd holders you put on the mirror holder thing in your car. He wore it on his hand like a super hero. And when he went through the hall way between classes, it was really something else.

He came in this one day, and I could barely believe this guy existed. He claimed that he was psychic, and had telekinetic powers. He told people this daily. He also said he was a karate master. And he was a super saiyan. He really believed these things were true. It was weird seeing this guy. Of course I judged him, but he was alarming and I didn't feel the need to give him problems. There were plenty of people in the school and in the town who liked to pick on him. It was strange because up to that point I had been somewhat certain that I was the biggest freak. Apparently, compared to some I was normal, painfully. Double D came in when the teacher wasn't there this early evening. He challenged a boy in my class, Corey to 'BE A MAN' and to fight him to the death. Double D warned him in all loud seriousness with not a tinge of humor in his facial expression that he could explode Corey's mind. I remember Double D went on to do some kind of strange air kick. It was truly a sight to behold. Corey ducked Double D's strange movements laughing boyishly and hysterically. All the boys were laughing. The cheerleader girls in the other corner laughed nervously. I just stared on in disbelief. This was my first, and not last introduction to Double D in the years as a high school student. So this guy was the school freak. I would always be one of the weird ones for sure, but this guy would always outdo me.

I didn't really know how to feel about high school. Technically it was still junior high. And we were still taking a few classes at the elementary school for some reason. But since the junior and senior high schools were one in the same, it was strange to be in this new atmosphere. The teachers seemed a little more lenient. Teachers in the elementary school were a bit caught up in their positions. You got the feeling that they didn't trust you to be able to tie your own shoes. They were very controlling. If they had to deal with the older kids in this climate, they would have lost their minds. Between classes was pure chaos. There was one hallway and everyone's lockers were on it. For someone with the anxiety that I had, it was hard for me to even think straight. It was basically like being dunked into freezing water every forty-five minutes. I was always in a state of shock. The fear I felt when I at first could not find my locker was unbearable. It was hard to believe that I had made it this far. Roxanne and Maria had gone to school here. But it always had seemed to me that I would always be a child, and the day where I too was to do my time as a high school student would never come. Strange too, the seniors were all enormous to me still. The hallway smelled like football player sweat – quite unpleasant, random smells of perfume, books, the smell from the lunch room of the cheapest food imaginable, generally something brown in a big vat with gravy on it. And underneath that, for me at least, I could smell anticipation, fear, sex, chaos, the thoughts of thousands of people who had come before – not just the students that were there then. I was overwhelmed. It was all too much. Too many people. I figured it out somehow, almost.

The one thing I did like about this new high school thing was after school every Thursday, from 3:15 when the school bell rang till somewhere between five and seven – we got to go to Art Club. Art Club was ran by a woman named Ms. Fiske. She never really liked me all that much, but she seemed okay with me. She really enjoyed Sarah more. This didn't actually bother me, despite my inferiority issues at the time. Mrs. Fiske was extremely unstable. You could tell by the way she laughed. Her moods were up or down. She would get mad and she would frantically begin talking in a way that nobody could understand. Once a month she would scream and cry at us when we took art class. But Art Club was totally worth it. You could never really hate Ms. Fiske because she had set up a place where I sort of belonged. She was more than generous with her supplies as well. We never had to pay for anything. She brought cookies and soda, and we would listen to music and make art. The canvases were free, the paint was free, the freaking clay was free, and there was a kiln we could use and that was also free. Sarah and I would go every Thursday. Usually it would be about five to ten other students. Generally they were either older art nerds, or maybe even a football player or a girl's basketball girl who had a secret artsy side.

It was one thing I really did enjoy. Several times in my years at that school, the principals and teachers tried to ban me from being able to go to Art Club, but they never succeeded. For this, I really didn't care if Ms. Fiske secretly didn't like me or get my art. I mean, I think it bothered me later on a little. But it was never that bad because she made Art Club happen.

To be continued. And if you are interested in this and want to catch up, here are the other parts i have written thus far.

PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s

PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94

PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84

PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

#text #life story

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