#shading excercise i set for myself
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Matilda’s got game 😳
#shading excercise i set for myself#but really was just an excuse to stare at the loml 😌#oof i hope tumbs doesnt fuck with the quality#arcane#arcane fanart#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn kiramman fanart#done on procreate#procreate
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Chapter 55 - Wine, puzzles and spoonmen (Part One)
In the previous chapter: Eddie and Angie woke up at her apartment. It's the third time in a row they sleep together but, although Eddie is constantly teasing her, they haven't had sex yet. Angie starts to get worried about this too and believes something's wrong. Eddie, Stone and Mike go to Roxy's on that same morning, right during Angie's shift at the diner. Eddie cheekily jokes, teases her, sends her subliminal love messages through juke box songs, then follows her in the back and kisses her; she thinks he's doing it on purpose so that their friends will find out about their relationship. The two of them have a brief argument but they soon make it up. Meg tells Angie about her new project: becoming a tattoo artist. She also understands Angie's worried about something and has her friend spill the beans. Angie confesses she has doubts about Eddie's physical attraction towards her. Meg tries to talk some sense into her and suggests her to set up a romantic night for Eddie and her at their apartment.
***
“Ian, can you come here a sec?” I call my coworker as I look through the sketchbook my roommate has just slipped on the counter top together with her purchases.
“What's up?” I hear him answer from afar.
“I need your help”
“Can't you do it by yourself? That guy who dropped the jarred Bolognese sauce made a mess!”
“Umph if that's Bolognese sauce, then I'm Julia Roberts!” I comment right when Hannigan comes back from the storage room, probably because of the commotion he heard.
“ANGIE?” he gives me a nasty look and I'd want to sink into the ground.
“Err I meant that it's a sauce produced in our beloved America! Healthy American food, tasty and nutritious... which gets inspiration from an Italian recipe to... to...” I try and make up for that as I address my audience, that is basically Meg, looking at me as if she could burst into laughing any minute, my boss and two perplexed customers, a young man and a fifty-something woman.
“To give a new interpretation of it?” the guy suggests from the snacks department.
“EXACTLY! A new interpretation. Different from the original”
“But as valid as the original” the boss adds.
“Very valid!” I say through my teeth.
“She's half Italian.” Meg explains to the customers “She'll be fucking fussing about everything but the sauce is good” the guy snickers and the lady shakes her head and walks towards the frozen foods.
“I'd have liked for you not to use the F word but you perfectly summed up my thinking” Hannigan's face relaxes and maybe I still have a job.
“Anyway it's all Ian's fault” I point out as soon as I see my colleague show up behind the back of the boss.
“What did I do?”
“I called you and you didn't came”
“Well, now I'm here, what's wrong?”
“Now Hannigan's here, I don't need you anymore”
“Can you please explain what the fuck's happening? I didn't understand a fucking thing!” the boss blurts out in the middle of our quarrel.
“I thought you couldn't say the F word here” Meg chimes in raising her hand as if she was at school.
“Not to custumers, but to employees... yes”
“Meg needs to buy some wine” I point at my roommate and the bottle she's placed on the counter.
“So what? Your shift ends at 13:00, you still have 10 minutes” Ian gives me a glazed look and right now I'd stick my thumbs into his eyes.
“It's not for the timing, it's that I can't sell alcohol...”
“Oh right! Well, you'll take care of that, right?” he asks to our boss.
“Yeah, sure Ian! I'll take care of that, I'm already here! By the way why should I have my paid personnel work when I can do everything by myself, right?”
“Uhm... ok, I'll go and put some more sawdust on that stain” Ian walks away and Meg can't resist this time and explodes laughing.
“Haha he's so dumb! Anyway isn't it funny that you cannot sell me wine, considering you're the one who'll drink it?” my friend remarks while Hannigan's ringing her items: red wine bottle, sliced bread, salmon, cheese, butter, various snacks.
“You're kind of dumb too, you know” I hide my face behind my palms.
“You could avoid telling me, at least...” mutters the boss and shakes his head.
“Who? Telling you what? I didn't say a word! Oops, I forgot the dessert, wait a minute!” Meg realizes the shit she just did and plays dumb, walking away towards the sweets section.
“She was just kidding anyway hehe” I say and I hope he doesn't notice I'm sweating.
“Of course”
**
“They're great!”
“Thank you Meg for grocery shopping for me and bringing all the bags up for four floors for me... that's what you just said, right?” my friend is putting everything into the fridge as I keep looking through her sketchbook.
“Exactly”
“Anyway you don't have to tell me you like them only to make me happy, I want a honest opinion”
“I am honest! I must say I like the ones in black and white better”
“Right? I'm not confident with colors yet. I mean, it's not like I can't draw stuff in colors. It's just, whenever I draw something and color it and I think it'd be supposed to end on someone's skin, everything seems shit to me. I did very few drawings in color”
“The flowers series is perfect, also the one with the animals” she's really good at drawing, I've always known that.
“They're just doodles to get started, to try some themes and styles”
“They're not doodles... what about this?” I focus on something drawn on a separated sheet of paper, folded and stuck in the middle of the book, which falls down to the floor as I turn the pages.
“Which one?” Meg distractedly turns around then closes the fridge door shut and runs up to me, snatching the paper from my hand as soon as she sees what it is “Oh this? This is nothing, this... I did it last night at the salon, during downtime, it sucks”
It's a page made entirely of pieces of a puzzle, they're all different in shape and shade but don't create any image. They're all blank and fill the whole sheet of paper except for a small space, a missing piece. Instead of the missing piece, in the layer underneath, you can see something that looks like live flesh and muscle tissue, and it's the only colored part of the drawing.
“It's simple but of immediate effect. This could really become a tattoo”
“Do you think so?”
“Yeah, it also seems very realistic. It's disturbing but in a positive sense, I like it!”
“Oh, well, thank you”
“What does it mean?”
“That I thank you for your compliment?”
“Haha no, what does the tattoo mean?”
“Ah”
“There's always a meaning behind, right? What would such a tattoo mean?”
“Well but... but this is not a tattoo is just an excercise, there's no reason behind”
“No?”
“No! Ok, now that you make me think about it, it could represent, I don't know, a missing piece in someone's life? I mean, everybody has their own void inside, right? Nobody feels 100% complete, there's always a piece of the puzzle we can't find or that we lost in the way. And it can be very different things: a person, a passion, a goal in life. What do you think?”
“I think it'd be the perfect matching tattoo for a couple”
“A couple? Hahaha I didn't know you were so romantic!”
“Not necessarily a romantic couple. Also between two big friends. Or brothers. Think about it, one person can have the incomplete puzzle tattoed and the other one can have the missing piece, which fits in it perfectly”
“That's an idea. It should represent a strong bond. Between brothers... or a parent and a child”
“Sure, also” the latter not necessarily being a strong bond...
“A mother... a mother could get this one, with one or more missing pieces depending on how many children she's got.And the children will be the missing pieces” and what if the missing parts are the parents instead?
“And they you'll inject ink in those chubby baby arms of theirs!”
“Hahahah shut up! They can have it done when they're grown up. OR... you can draw the missing pieces in the same tattoo, a little further” Meg takes the sketchbook from my hands and starts drawing as she speaks, taken from sudden inspiration.
“You can also put the name in it. Or initials”
“Which name?”
“Of the child. Inside the puzzle piece”
“Sure, if I knew the name”
“What do you mean? Haha how can a mother not know the name?”
Meg gives me a weird look, then smiles: “I meant, if only you could give me a name to have a try”
“Try with Angie” I smirk.
“A random one”
“Totally random”
“Don't even try, I'm not gonna get matching tattoos with you, forget it” she shakes her head as she starts sketching a cursive A inside the drawing.
“SHUT UP! I'm scared of getting my earlobes pierced, do you think I'd get a tattoo?! You're crazy”
“Oh, I see, you wanna get one with Eddie?”
“Come on, hurry up, we need to go shopping”
“Hahaha this enthusiasm from you surprises me, abstinence can be powerful”
“MEG!”
**
“Do you really think we can find a slutty nightgown in a thrift shop?” Meg doesn't watch her tone as we stop in front of Rummage Hall.
“Shhhhhh! I don't wanna buy a slutty nightgown, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“You don't want to? We went out exactly for that”
“You said I should wear something nice but not too much. I don't wanna go too far or Eddie will understand...”
“Excuse me, isn't that the purpose of the whole thing? Make him understand?”
“Yes but...”
“Well, slutty it is, then!” Meg enters the shop and I tag along.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhh”
“Anyway we're not gonna find shit in here” my friend takes long strides towards the clothing section.
“Where did you want to go? Nancy Meyer? I've got no money for that stuff”
“No, but Fantasy Unlimited is a short walk away”
“BUT THAT- ehm... that is an adult shop” I raise my voice too without noticing, then shush myself up.
“And you're an adult, aren't you? Anyway they've got very cute things, I bought a lot of stuff there, that for the record I use also to go to clubs. Well, now only to go to clubs” she shrugs as she's examining a satin-like robe and then puts it back.
“You just need two triangles of fabric to be dressed and look nice, Meg, but for me it's slightly different”
“You just need triangles a little bigger, what's the problem?”
“The problem is there are no triangles big enough for me”
“Shut up!”
“And I don't know if Eddie would like that, I mean, I don't know his preferences” maybe he doesn't like this kind of seduction artifices, maybe he prefers a simpler style, a more natural approach. Why the fuck am I not naturally hot?
“He's a guy and he's heterosexual, what would his preferences ever be? The more skin he sees, the happier he is” it's Meg's very easy answer.
“My skin?”
“Yes, why?”
“There's too much skin in my case, maybe I'd better hide it” who am I kidding? You don't just put something cute on and turn into an attractive girl. You must be able to carry it around and feel confident in those clothes. I don't even feel comfortable now that I have a coat on. I'm never comfortable, except sometimes, with Eddie. Why ruin everything? I'll just show up like this, with a coat on. Or my fleece robe, I mean, he's used at my shitty outfits, this would be nothing new.
“Angie, what the fuck are you talking about?? He wants to see your skin because he likes you, I thought that had been already established by now”
“He likes me, altogether”
“No, fuck altogether, fuck mind, personality and all the other bullshit”
“Bullshit?”
“Angie, he likes your body, you turn him on, he wants you”
“He wants me so much than I gotta dress slutty to have him notice me?”
“The point is not having him notice you, that's what you got totally wrong. He already noticed you, you're with him basically! The point is letting him know you're ready for the next step. And stimulate him a little, warming up the atmosphere”
“If you say so” warming up, uh?
“Fuck, Angie, you're gonna give me a nervous breakdown sooner or later!” Meg pinches the bridge of her nose and I'm afraid she's really about to explode.
“Don't yell! There's people here” I complain looking around in embarrassment and hoping no one is listening to our conversation.
“Listen, when you're together... don't you ever notice anything in him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever you kiss or hug... I mean, when you make out and stuff”
“Well, he looks... invested, focused on me and always gives me those looks that-”
“Ok ok, the look of love. But apart from that? Nothing else? Can't you feel anything?”
“What am I supposed to feel?”
“You know, since you also sleep together... and stuff”
“Stuff and stuff... Couldn't you be more clear?”
“Have you ever felt... something knocking?”
“Knocking?”
“Hasn't mini-Eddie ever popped up to say hi?”
“Mini... MEG WHAT THE FUCK??”
“Does he get hard? You must have noticed”
“DID YOU LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”
“Shhh stop yelling, there's people here” Meg chuckles and I'd kick her ass.
“You're to lock up” I grab her from the sleeve of her jacket and try to drag her out of the shop with me but she pushes me towards the books section.
“Jeez, you're such a prude”
“I'm not a prude, I'm just... discreet”
“Ok so have you ever discreetly checked if he gets a boner or not when he's with you?”
“Apart from the fact that it doesn't mean anything”
“Sure, now Eddie gets random boners with no reason, after all he's in his full pubescent phase”
“You're joking but it's true. Erections are not necessarily linked to sexual arousal only. Do you know men can get erections at the point of death too under certain circumstances?”
“Oh really? And how many times did Eddie die recently?” she smirks.
“Anyway, that said... it's none of your business” I turn the other way trying to look upset and as I look towards the clothing section, where we were until five minutes ago, I spot something I hadn't noticed before.
“I already know anyway!” Meg yells behind my back as I walk away towards the object of my interest, then she catches up with me “Come on, don't be mad. I'm sorry. I just wanted to prove my point! And tease you a little”
“What do you think about this?” I turn around showing the item I've just taken from the line.
“I think that... well, considering it's Eddie, we would never find something better to stimulate him, not ever at Fantasy Unlimited. Buy it!”
******************************************************************************************************************************************
I'm halfway between the first and the second floor when I realize I took the stairs instead of the elevator. I stop for a second, contemplating how stupid I am and trying to remember the moment I put autopilot on. I probably lost some lucidity once I parked outside Angie's condo. Was the doorway open? I think so, 'cause I don't remember buzzing and I'd remember if I had heard her voice, even through that shitty croaky buzzer. It looks like spending more time together hasn't changed the effect that the idea of seeing her has on me. I hope it'll never change. I shake my head and start walking up the stairs, two steps at a time, to arrive sooner. I didn't exactly run but when I get to the fourth floor I feel flushed. I take a deep breath, pull up my backpack and walk down the hallway to Angie's apartment. The first weird thing I notice is a sound: the sound of a saxophone, which becomes louder and louder as I get closer. The second weird thing shows up as soon as I turn down the corner and see something's wrong in Angie's door. As I come closer I realize the hallway lamp casts a narrow beam of light on the floor inside the apartment and from that I notice that the door is half-closed. As far as I know Angie double locks herself up even in her bathroom when she's home alone, she'd never let the apartment door open. I walk up slowly and in the meantime I open my backpack and stick my hand in it to find something I could use as a weapon. I don't really wanna waste some good wine crashing the bottle on the head of an elusive burglar. But I also doubt the videotape of Harold and Maude would have the same effect. I grab the bottle from the neck as I push the door open and cautiously enter the apartment. And I immediately notice two things. First of all I see there's something on the floor and at first they seem parts of a colorful object that broke into pieces. But as I lean down to see better, I take some of these fragments in my hand and figure out it's nothing but flowers, abandoned on the floor. I grope my way looking for water or glass pieces of a fallen and then shattered vase but I can't find anything. Now that I think about it, there was no vase of flowers here, at least not until this morning. Almost at the same time, I realize it's not really flowers but only petals and they seem to form a path towards the living room. In that moment I figure out I can follow the path of the blue and red petals on the floor with my eyes because the entrance is not lit only by the external hallway light but also by some burning candles placed on the phone table and on the shoe cabinet.
Oh.
I quickly stand up, feeling stupid for mistaking a romantic setting for a crime scene. I finally close the door behind me and follow the way led by the flowers, walking towards the living room and imagining the different scenes I could find, which have all the same main character. But she's the one missing when I get in the room, all that I find is more candles, the small table laden with delicious food and further away, between the two couches, a basket with a composition of blue and red flowers, just like the petals on the floor. Your love is king sings Sade in the background, that is not exactly background, since the volume is pretty loud. And I'm just standing here, wine still in my hand, waiting for Angie to magically show up, maybe with a little ambush behind my back, covering my eyes with her hands or in any other way she came up with. But that doesn't happen. Suddenly I think I hear a sound, more sounds, actually an almost regular sequence of sounds. I go and turn down the music a little and the series of dull thuds sounds clearer. Maybe a romantic setting doesn't exclude a crime scene... what the fuck is happening?
“Angie?” I call her and get no answer.
The noise comes from the kitchen and that's where I go, quickly but with caution. At first I slowly open the door to peep in, then I fling it open when I see Angie at the window, leaning outside, basically perched on the windowsill.
“Angie!” I call her again but she can't hear me. So I put the wine bottle on the table and reach out for her, shaking her by her shoulder “Angie what th-”
“AAH! Oh shit, Y'ALL WATCH OUT DOWN THERE!” Angie jumps and starts yelling outside the window, then I can hear a sharp noise, like something shattered into pieces and that's when I look out too to see what's happening.
What's happening is that there a small group of people on the pavement just outside the condo, standing in a sort of circle around a red expanding stain, while a guy curses and gives the middle finger in our direction.
“Angie... what did you do? What does it mean?” I ask as we both stuck our heads back inside the apartment.
“I've just lost a bottle of red wine and a boot” Angie sighs and replies as if it's the most normal thing, finally turning to face me.
And I finally focus for a moment and see what's in front of me: Angie, dressed in just a black The Who t-shirt that leaves her legs almost entirely uncovered, eye liner or whatever it is on her eyes, with those little wings on the sides pointing upwards that make her look more like a kitty, a glossy lipstick on her lips, vanilla scent. Maybe the burglar hit and killed me and this is heaven.
“Well, I can make up for the wine because I brought some too...” I walk backwards towards the table without taking my eyes off her, pointing at the place where I must have put the bottle “and I can go out and get back your shoe in no time. So, you see? Everything has a solution hehe, don't worry” why the fuck am I laughing? Do I think I'm funny? And why am I sweating?
“I'm sorry you have to go, you've just arrived” she replies with an irresistible pout, moving away from the window and breaking eye contact looking down.
“No problem, I'll be back in a minute.” I'm about to leave the kitchen, then I come back in “Oh wait, I can't”
“Oh ok... why? I mean, it doesn't matter Eddie, don't... don't worry” she starts stuttering and I smirk inside, trying to look cool.
“I forgot I have to do something first”
“What?” she asks puzzled before I get close and take her face between my hands to kiss her.
“This. I'll be right back, ok?” I whisper right after.
“Ok” she smiles and I kiss her again.
“And just so you know, when I'm back I got a bunch of questions about all this to ask you”
“Ok” her smiles widens and I kiss her once more.
“I'm telling you in advance so I won't catch you unprepared”
“Ok...” she repeats and I'm about to kiss her once again but she holds me back with her hands against my chest “Now go though”
“Uh is that so?” I try and get my kiss but she pushes me harder away.
“Hurry up”
“I'm going, I'm going. So bossy...” I let go of her and leave the kitchen, only to show up on the doorway a second later, only for a moment “I like it”
**
It takes me a while to find the boots, I mean, the boot, Angie's brown one, cause it rolled down the sidewalk under a parked car. When I find it, I instinctively look up, as if I'm expecting to see her still there, at the window, with her colorful hair fluttering in the night breeze. But she's not there and I immediately go back inside. And during the whole way, this time using the elevator, I try and figure out the connection between wine and boot and the dynamics that brought them both out of the window. I walk up to the apartment and Sade is still singing.
“Thank you, Eddie. Do you want some?” I turn around the corner in the hallway and Angie's on the doorway with a bowl of chips in her hands and she holds it out to me as I get closer.
I want you I'd tell her but I just give her the boot and take the bowl and bury my hand in it.
“Anytime” I watch her quickly walking away into her room, quickly walking on her naked legs... GET IT TOGETHER MAN, YOU'RE SWEATING.
“Why are you standing there like that? Come in” Angie comes back and I'm still here at the door eating chips.
“I was waiting for you” I shrug and follow the flower path and her steps once again into the living room.
“So?” she asks when we're in front of the couch and I put the bowl of chips down on the small wooden table, since I believe we're about to sit down. Yet she keeps standing and smiles at me, with the tip of her canine popping up and diggin into her lower lip for a second as usual.
“So?” I repeat getting closer till my face is inches from hers, but without hugging her or kissing her, as if there's a game, a challenge between us, a challenge I'll surely fail.
“The bunch of questions... “ she looks down and, tugging the hem of her t-shirt down, she quickly takes a seat and I'm sure she's blushing even though she's not looking at me.
“Ok... Sade?” I point at the record player and sit down beside her, as I take off my jacket and throw it on the other couch.
“Hahaha of all this mess, the strangest thing to you is Sade's record?”
“No. But it's the first thing I thought of now”
“Don't you like it? It's... it's a good album” she turns towards me and subtly closes the distance between us on the couch at the same time.
“She's very good, it's just I didn't think you liked her. Can I ask the second question?”
“Sure”
“What the hell were you doing at the window with a bottle and a boot?” Angie's grin widens again.
“I was trying to open the wine bottle” she shrugs as if this is the most obvious explanation.
“By kicking it?”
“Hahaha more or less. My dad taught me”
“I sense a memorable anecdote is coming, I'm all ears”
Angie tells me about that time when she went on a camping trip with her parents to Lake Payette, her father's idea to celebrate his and his wife's birthdays, that I guess must be very close. On night one Ray pulled out a bottle of wine he had brought for the occasion but realized he forgot the corkscrew. He pounced on the cork with a knife but it seemed he couldn't open the bottle. Janis wanted to postpone the toast to the following evening, after going to the nearby shop and buying the bottle opener. There was no way to convince Ray though. So Angie's dad, as nothing happened, took off his boot in front of them, stuck the fuckin' bottle in it and, without saying a word, walked clumsily on a single boot up to the closest ponderosa pine and started slamming the bottle, protected by his shoe, against the trunk.
“You know, the pressure inside the bottle pushes the cork out, until you can grab it and take it off with your hands. My mom and I were doubled over in laughter” as she tells the story, Angie crosses her legs and moves on the couch and this makes her shirt go up little by little. I notice that and feel kind of an asshole.
“But it worked”
“And that was the first time I tasted wine: I was 11. It was good, although it had been shaken for 15 minutes”
“This means you got no corkscrew here at home?”
“Yeah... I mean, actually we had one, but I can't find it anymore. I guess someone took it at my birthday party or Matt or Chris borrowed it and haven't returned it yet. Sure it didn't seem wise to go there and ask them now, you know...” yes, I know, you didn't ask them because they'd have asked questions you don't wanna answer, at least by now.
“And you decided to use the Pacifico technique”
“And since I don't have any tree here, the only way to do it was beating the bottle against the wall. But I didn't want to risk getting the kitchen dirty so...”
“Hehe so you figured you'd do it out of the window?” I adore this woman.
“Yep. And it was working fine, until a certain someone scared me and made me drop everything. And I made a mess” she gives me a playful nasty look and scoots away from me.
“You're right, it's all my fault.” I scoot over on the couch to sit back close to her “But I know how to make you forgive me” ok, more than close basically glued to her.
“How?” she looks up at me amused, basically batting her eyelids against mine.
“Opening the other bottle” I stand up out of the blue and I leave her there, maybe a little disappointed? I go into the kitchen, take the bottle and open the window.
“With the Pacifico technique?” she asks as she shows up at the kitchen door.
“Nuh, with the Vedder one” I peer outside, remove the wrapper, pull out my lighter and start heating the end of the bottle neck with the flame.
“Isn't this dangerous?” I feel one arm circling my hip and for a minute there the red wine bottle was about to end the same way as Angie's one.
“No, I did it so many times” I answer as I rotate the bottle.
“Hey, it's coming out!” Angie exclaims behind my back while the cork starts moving.
At that point I tilt the bottle slightly as to prevent the cork from exploding like a bullet inside the apartment or into somebody else's window. Finally the corks pops out and falls into the street, where it looks like he doesn't hit anyone. Wine is safe too.
“See! Hot air expands inside the bottle and pushes the cork.” I close the window and triumphantly show the uncorked bottle to Angie, who arches her eyebrow at me “What? I can do science too, you know”
“So you also know you could have caused an explosion and get hurt?” she rolls her eyes and by the way is still hugging me.
“Not if you know how to do it and and to be careful. So, am I forgiven?” I ask, raising the bottle at her as if it was a toast.
“Sure!” she chuckles and looks at me in silence for a while. And I'm expecting a kiss but instead, she lets go of me and exits the kitchen, but not before addressing me again “Let's go taste you boiled wine”
The wine is not boiled at all and it's not bad. Angie and I are at the second round and, as I'm stuffing my face with chips and sandwiches, I realize it's getting hot in here. I mean, I can't be this heated for two glasses of wine. And neither for the half nakedness of Angie. Even though... And this is the moment I figure out my usually chilly girlfriend is dressed only in a t-shirt and I can't hear her teeth chatter for the cold, so there must be something going on here.
“My bunch of questions aren't over anyway...” I say and Angie makes herself comfortable on the couch, half laid and leaning on the armrest.
“Shoot”
“It's fucking hot in here, isn't it?” I ask as I take off my flannel and she starts laughing uncomfortably and, as she tries to sit up, her feet get closer, touch my legs and push against me a little to leverage. But I don't move an inch.
“Hahaha yeah, you're right... as you can see, tonight's really the perfect night: just one disaster after another”
“Why? What happened?” I throw the shirt there were my jacket is.
“I don't know, it must... the heating system must be broken, and that's not unusual. The new thing is... this time, I don't know... they kind of broke the other way round and it's been heating non stop at full power since this afternoon”
“Do you want me to check your radiators?”
“No point trying, it's not just here, the whole building is burning basically”
“Do you want me to go down and check the boiler room?”
“NO!” Angie basically kicks me, then regains her composure “Err no, no worries. And then, I mean, the apartment manager is the one who's supposes to take care of this stuff and call technicians, that's what he's paid for! He'll do the work”
“Ok”
“And what if you can't solve the problem and maybe no one can and they blame you because you put your hand in there...”
“Alright”
“And by the way, at least it's not freezing, for a change”
“Well, yeah, still better than freezing but...”
“I know. Shitty building. Anyway, now you know the... ehm, you know why I'm dressed like... this” Angie goes on and pulls down her t-shirt again to cover her thighs.
“I wouldn't call it a disaster then” I smirk and rub the back of my hand softly against her leg, from her ankle to her knee. She stares at me in the eyes and for a moment I'm sure she's about to throw herself over me and kiss me, but I'm wrong again.
“So? Which movie do we watch first? Mine or yours?” she asks out of the blue.
“You decide” actually I even forgot about the movies, the heat, the wine, about where we are and maybe what year we are as well.
“No, come on, you tell me” my hand is still going up and down.
“It's the same for me, Angie”
“Same for me too”
“You're the host, you choose”
“You're my guest, so it's up to you” of course, as always: it's up to me.
“Uhm... alright! Let's watch yours first then”
“Ok! The tape is there under the tv, would you put it on? I'll get some water” in a fraction of a second Angie sneaks away into the kitchen and I find myself alone. I turn off the stereo then crawl in front of the tv to get the Goodfellas tape and as I do I think about one thing. Well, actually two. One worse than the other. The first thing is that I'd rather have gone to get the water instead of Angie, so I could come back here and see her on hands and knees as she fumbles with the videorecorder, and that it'd have made for a very nice view. My second thought is that the tv looked much better in Angie's room and it'd have been much more enjoyable to watch it with her from her bed.
Disgusting thoughts indeed.
“Did you find it?” Angie's question startles me as if I was caught red handed doing something illicit.
“Yep” I press Play, stand up and try to get back on the couch before her. I do and sit right in the middle of it. So she won't be able to sit far from me. I gloat for my smar idea.
“If you want to be more comfortable, just lay down. I'm gonna sit there. Hehe we have one couch each if we want to” is Angie even aware of her endless power? The power to leave me totally speechless with such statements?
“Actually... I don't want to”
“Are you sure?” well, I don't know... WHAT DO YOU THINK?
“Very sure, I don't want a whole couch for me, I wanna share it with you” I hold my arms out and grab her by her waist, pulling her gently towards me until I finally take her back on this couch. And I hold her and kiss her and touch her, pushing her delicately towards the armrest on her side. And at some point I feel her hand moving right under my body. I think I know what she's about to do and I feel euphoric all of a sudden. But Angie is able to surprise me again, because even if I don't see her doing it, I can clearly feel her gesture of grasping at the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it down for the umpteenth time. I internally laugh at my stupid X-rated delusions, although on the other hand I'm sorry Angie doesn't feel comfortable with me yet. I don't wanna hurry, really, I'd just like to know what the problem is. I give her one last peck on her lips and back away so we can both sit up properly.
“Ok. Let's fastforward all the commercials and advisories. Where's the remote? Oh there it is!” Angie, the one who was about to abandon me all by myself on this couch, the one who was coy and bashful during my approach like two minutes ago, it's the same girl that basically climbs on me to jump over on the opposite side and stretch out to take the remote on the other armrest. And then does the same thing backwards to get back to her place. And I'm not complaining at all.
**
We're almost at the end of my movie and this is the situation: we finished the wine I don't even remember when, as for food only a few snacks and two small chocolate cakes are left; I'm in my t-shirt and boxers because it's really hot, although we opened the window in the living room; Angie's smoking a cigarette, resting on the couch with her legs over mine and I've been genty stroking them for literal HOURS, something that contributes in heating the atmosphere even more. And I also feel kind of guilty, because Harold has just rushed to the hospital with Maude and I already know what's about to happen and the ending breaks my heart every time... and I'm here, basking in the softness and smoothness of Angie's skin under my fingers.
“It's so sad. But also beautiful at the same time” she remarks during the credits.
“Yeah. You really haven't seen it before?”
“Never. And now I see why you like it”
“Hehe right, Cat Stevens has something to do with it” I reply since I think she's referring to the soundtrack.
“Uhm yeah but that's not what I meant. What I wanted to say is that... well, this movie is like you” she takes one long last hit of smoke, then puts out her cigarette in the ashtray she placed on the floor. And she's amazing. Not because she's smoking but... I know it's not nice to say, and it's also unhealthy, a bad bad habit, but... there are times, particular times in which, maybe fuelled by excessive domestic heating and subsequent nudity, I see something extremely sexy in a woman who's smoking.
“Absurd?”
“Absurd, eccentric, thoughtful, bitter and sweet...” Angie slowly counts the adjectives on her fingertips and I can't say she didn't get them right. This means she knows there's something bitter, and dark inside me. Maybe that's why she doesn't trust me completely yet.
“Eccentric uh?” a devilish grin appears on my face.
“Oh well...”
“Said the girl who tried to open a bottle with a shoe outside the window”
“Ok this is gonna be another of those recurring jokes you're gonna use to take the piss out of me for the rest of my life, isn't it?”
“Yes... after all, I can't make fun of you for your nights out with Meg to pick up guys anymore, I have to find a substitute”
“Really? And why?” she adjust herself better on the couch to sit up and for a minute I'm afraid I'll lose touch with her legs, but she still keeps them over mine.
“Because you're not having those anymore” I hold her by the hips as she puts her hands on my shoulders.
“Are you sure?”
“You don't need to”
“So can I hang up my infallible pick up techniques now?”
“Sure, now that you picked me up”
“How I made it is still unknown...”
“With your infallible pick up techniques, of course”
“That are? Not doing absolutely anything?” as if she needed to do something to have me fall for her. I lay down on the couch and pull her with me.
“Being yourself and not doing absolutely anything, the best way”
“If you say so...” she mutters and she tries to sit back up but I hold her tight and prevent her from sneaking away. At this point, also not to slip and fall off the couch, she has to more or less straddle me.
“It worked with me, can't you see that?” I grab her as she tries to wriggle free, I hold her tighter and slip my hand under her t-shirt, to caress her back.
“Eddie! Come on, let me sit up...”
“Why?”
“Because I'm hurting you...”
“Shut up!”
“It's true and you know it”
“You can't crush me, I can feel you got all the weight on your knees and arms”
“Because I wanna spare you asphyxiation?”
“Cut.The.Crap.” I decide I'm gonna do this the hard way and my hand sneaks across her back towards her armpit so I can tickle her, but she gives up long before I get there. Mental note: Angie is very ticklish “Oh, that's better!”
“Hahaha stop it!”
“Much better” I repeat when we find ourselves basically nose to nose and then I stop torturing her, close my eyes and breathe in silence with her for five minutes, I think, waiting for something... that never comes. Angie removes her hands from my hair, where she had casually buried them in the heat of the moment. Then she holds on to the pillows, pulls herself up and backs away from me.
“I'll turn off the tv” Angie stretches out her hand to get the remote from the table where I put, then sits back down at my feet. I take a deep breath and sit up too.
“I'd better go” I'm about to stand up but Angie, with a quick move, grabs me by the arm and pulls me back down on the couch.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”
“Home, so I'll let you sleep” I pinch her cheek and try to stand up again but Angie doesn't let me.
“But I don't wanna sleep! Well, I mean... you can sleep with me, you know, you can crash at my place”
“Even tonight?”
“Yes, why? Don't you want to?” Angie's torturing the hemline of her t-shirt again and if she tugs at it some more, it'll become a tunic.
“Sure I want to. I thought that it may be a problem”
“A problem about what?”
“I don't know, because of Meg?”
“Meg won't be here, she's sleeping over at her friend's”
“But she'll be back tomorrow morning, right? What if she sees me again? What will she think?” I'm saying it for her, not for me. If she sees me and does the math, I'll be nothing but happy.
“What will she think? Nothing. Anyway, I already told her”
“You told her?” I ask, suddenly interested and full of hope. Did she really tell someone we're a couple?
“Yeah, I told her you'd come over tonight. And that maybe you'd sleep here” hope destroyed in ten seconds. Maybe.
“And what did she say?”
“She said ok” Angie shrugs and takes the last two cakes left from the table, biting on one and handing me the other one.
“Ok? Only ok?” I take a bite too.
“Sure, what were you expecting?”
“Nothing. But... I think Meg knows then”
“Sure she knows, I've just told you! Why all these problems all of a sudden?”
“No, I mean she knows... about us...” a second bite and no more cake.
“NO! I... I didn't tell her anything”
“Angie... it's the 4th time we sleep together in a week, I don't think you need to tell her. If she's not stupid, she'll understand by herself.
“She knows we sleep together but she doesn't know... what... ehm... what we do” Angie eats the rest of her chocholate cake and pours herself half a glass of water to swallow it better.
“She can assume it, I guess” seriously, Meg's assumptions surely go well beyond what actually happens between Angie and I in reality.
“Meg has no trouble to say what she thinks: if she had suspects, she'd have openly told me”
“You should do it”
“What?”
“Openly tell her, about us”
“WHAT? WHY?” why the hell is she so scared?
“'Cause she's a friend to you and you have to start somewhere, don't you?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Listen, we already talked about it, do you wanna keep it secret? Ok, I'm in. But you could take things gradually, with no big collective announcements, just by telling it to one single person. And why not your best friend?”
“I don't know, maybe because she's totally incapable of keeping a secret?” Angie looks at me as if I was stupid and rolls her eyes.
“Well, that's so much better, isn't it. We only need to tell Meg, then she'll get the word out for us” I try and hug her and she slaps my chest in response.
“Fuck you, Eddie”
“Let's go to bed?”
“Mmm... ok”
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The Art of Forest Bathing VI
In order to write I decided to live in Chamonix, France, next to the Mont Blanc, highest mountain in Western Europe. get the cross-country skis out. Without snow in Lappland yet I have not skied through the forest every evening and some mornings too. My body misses the excercise and movement. And these short sojourns in nature go far beyond keeping fit. ‘If you want to solve a problem, take a walk,’ the saying goes.
We all remember our favourite hike, or trek. I remember my favourite cross country ski journey. It was in the Alps, in France, and I’d skied up the Chamonix valley to give blood at the village of Argentière. I’d settled into the comfortable couch and let the pretty nurse slide her fingers up my arm to find a vein and drifted into pleasant flirtateous dreams.
When finished in Britain one is lucky to get a cup of lukewarm tea and stale biscuit. But I was in France. At tables laden with salamis and red wine the locals found out I was Scottish, who are great friends of the French.
It was dark when I staggered out, bottles and blood empty, laughter and hearts full. Of course I had quite forgotten the effects of copious red wine on a relatively empty stomach after a blood donation, and when put on skis skied straight down a bank into a small river, where I stood chuckling for a few minutes.
Unbeaten and undaunted after this mild setback, I struggled downriver, cracking through the ice, until I pulled myself up onto a wooden bridge, from where I set off on my journey again straight off into the mountains, lost for a full two hours in the moonlit dark.
Back in time, just, for a conference on organ donation, where I unfortunately fell asleep and was escorted out.
But I had donated blood from my heart infused with love-at-first-sight for the prettiest nurse this side of sunrise. I found the most illogical way home on the postcard mountainside. Through snow sprinkled with moonlight I plunged, like falling into a warm desert dune with a nurse’s whispered words on my lips, skipole firm and snow crystals still soft and plentiful, like Saharan sand.
My pilgrimage home had taken me further than the longest route I could find, to thoughts of far places. And I had done more than enough for the haiku, composed while clattering in a river bed, remembered and thus rendered below.
I took a job as a mountain refuge warden there for a while, at some 2,000 metres altitude, but soon enjoyed reading the mountains more than a reader would have reading my never-appearing novel, so I moved down to the centre of town as winter set in. I loved Chamonix.
In the town I enjoyed a friendship with the PGHM, the mountain rescue team, a friendship I struck when working at the refuge, and particularly when one night a hammering at the door woke me; a man in a terrible state, having stumbled and jumped down the steep mountain side to the refuge after watching his wife fall over a cliff. The rescue helicopter went up to look with searchlight and found her, but radioed back they could not get near her in the cliffs at night, and that anyway, she had not survived the fall, that much they could see. I had gone up anyway to find her, especially after the helicopter team told me in no uncertain terms not to tell the man his wife had been killed in the fall until morning, as he might very well just step straight over a cliff himself at the news. So I went up the mountain in order to not have to answer his questions, and after a few hours saw she was not in a state of survival, and I waited till morning, standing at the door of the téléphérique, the cable car, to tell him, at which he crumpled onto the floor of the cabin, and the big moustached cabin operator later remarked:
‘’you know Hamish, I would have expected him to fly at you in a rage and hit, beat you.’’
‘’Yeah, great. Thanks.’’
The PGHM had recovered her body and then got into an argument with the local police, who wanted to take the man back to the scene for ‘questioning’.
‘’I’ve seen it before,’’ the station head of the PGHM had remarked: ‘’we’ll have two bodies over cliffs. He’ll jump.’’
There were other solid friendships; with the ski instructor, a woman who had skied down the very difficult Bossons glacier, after walking up with her skis for over eight hours, and who giggled at my British reserve when she and her friend had thrown their tops off to sunbathe at a mountain lake only hours after meeting me; and there was Catherine D’Estivelle, the climber, who that summer had climbed the Aiguille Verte — the Green Needle, alone, over eleven days, bivouacking on the rock face, and the woman who owned the bar that let me keep a tab running all winter, the bakery owning couple who made the freshest bread on the spot, which I ate where it was cooked, and the other mountain people, who regarded the tourists with mild indulgence; the tourists who had a penchant for acting like tourists — you know what I mean, of which perhaps the most touristy were the Swedes, who drank copious amounts of booze but would not touch the water, for fear of it not being pure, who boasted of a clean Sweden while uprooting all the Christmas trees in Viking exuberance and drinking coffee slowly each morning, wearing heavy mountain gear that clinked and jangled and jarred on their nerves.
And I decided to leave. To leave the town I loved. The blue/green late afternoons in the shade of the pine tree slopes of the mountains, the cream mornings of snow-capped mountains between open shutters, the newsagent who gave me my morning newspaper and coffee every morning when I walked through the door, and the mountains, again, and my mountain climbing partners and the seasons.
My last season in Chamonix was late summer, in the Saami definition of eight seasons. I was living my last few weeks in a tent at the bottom of the Mer de Glace glacier, and my morning plunge into the water rushing off the bottom of the glacier brought a new definition to the word cold, as well as embarrassment, when one morning I had jumped in, lay down briefly in the current and clambered out quickly, and heard a ‘’coooeeee!’’, looked left, looked right, looked behind, looked in front, my skin growing red, my vital parts shivered to mere millimetres, and then heard the ‘’coooeee!!’’ again, looked left right front back sideways and finally..upwards, to see a woman on delta wing, circling before landing, and laughing at my lack of restraint.
And the morning I left I met a silver-haired solitary Czech climber, who was hammering nails in his boots and knotting old ropes — his dream happening at last: climbing Mont Blanc, his food with him in cans, his home a tarpaulin over a wire, his happiness complete.
I was going to Oymyakon, the coldest town in the world (lowest temp recorded -71.2ºC/ -96.16ºF) , in Yakutia, Siberia, and chosen because I was sure that sitting in a hut in the coldest town in the world was a sure-fire way of writing, and importantly, completing a book. Immediately I set about planning an expedition through Yakutia, until I remembered it was to write I was going, and to attempt to ensure I was getting myself stuck into a small cabin, with a pile of logs, tea pot and long lost love deep in fur. The last one was not actually a requirement, though it was true that having someone to cook always means a necessary routine can be installed into a writer’s drab existence at the table, which is in reality a window of course. Yakutia, and in particular Oymyakon, fits some requirement’s of a writer’s retreat, but not all: it was exotic, not pricey — the cash flow is going in 1 direction after all, if the book is to be scribed — and the fish can be caught and cooked, a welcomed way to meditate. Oymyakon is a small town, the nature is beguilingly beautiful, but it forces you back to the writing table quickly, and the natives are not too restless. The town is found on the infamous Road of Bones. It does get a sprinkling of tourists, which is nice, and not all are similar to the Norwegians who got stuck and needed rescuing, claiming to be broken down, or the Germans who also got stuck and chose not to leave their vehicle when being rescued to thank the rescuers. (They would have been charged in another country of course, in places like Vancouver, but then would have probably found ways to sue for being charged for stupidity, as some do.) The fact that conditions were harsh, and risky, like the mountains of Chamonix, is something of a bonus for a writer. But it is also a pleasure when the little luxuries are available — bananas were prevalent, which was comforting, because at -55ºC ( -67ºF) they are more useful to hammer nails into wood than a badly made hammer, and don’t stick to the tongue like the head of a hammer does — something I can personally vouch is true, and if you don’t think you look absolutely stupid walking around town, even in Oymyakon, with a hammer stuck to your tongue, then think again. The wolves do hunt at night, and it if true that if the cold mist descends with the plummeting temperature in the deep snow and you are lost, then you have about 15 minutes to unlose yourself and find your way. After that your chances get pretty slim pretty quick, except your chances of being found next morning when the day is clear, a mere few metres to your cabin. But this provides the tension for your novel, so is worth the risk. Did I write the book? Yes. Did I find a cook deep in the fur, in a cabin down the road? The culture in Yakutia is captivating. And for those against fur, I can honestly tell you from experience that artificial fur just shreds; falls apart at those temperatures, and not keeping warm is not a question of fashion. Everything is different in summer though, when they welcome dawn on the longest day of the year at the summer solstice. Travel narrows our horizons — the more we learn about other cultures, the more sure we are about universal truths. And in Yakutia a universal truth is hugging cooks keeps you warm, as long as you compliment the mammoth steaks — tens of thousands of mammoth bones or even frozen mammoths have been found throughout history, so there’s a chance…
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ADHD- why you gotta be like that!?
It's fucking noon right now. Bae is traveling back to Cali from Florida so I can't rant to her about how fucking frustrating my day has been so far so hi Tumblr. In chronological order, here are all the fuck yous ADHD has thrown my way today. 1. Could not sleep last night. Got 4 hours of sleep. Thank the lord for the app Sleep Cycle to help me wake up when it is best for me to wake up on days like this. If it wasn't for it, I'd still be zombing around because I'd pick a time to wake up that'd be in the middle of rem cycle. That shit is the worst. 2. Woke up "early" to fucking go to the gym when it opened (11am). It's Spring Break so the gym will close at 1pm and not open again until 4, which, in my fucking humble opinion, is the worst time to work out. Keep in mind that it took so much effort to get my unmotivated ass out of bed, off of youtube, and then off of all the other distractions that I was so tempted to engage with. Before I got in the car to drive to the gym, I came back to the house twice. I'd forgotten my fucking water bottle then my fucking car key. 2. I get into the fucking car, drive to the gym, get out and walk to the door. I remember that I lost my fucking ID i don't know how fucking long ago so I ring the let-my-sorry-ass-in-please button. The person at the desk rings the door open for my ass. I walk in say "hi, I forgot my ID" expecting a "no worries, we cool" type of response and almost kinda assumed that's what this nice white boy just said cause was i paying attention? No, no. Four seconds later, I digest what this RA- looking white boy just said and anger, frustations, and all the other feelings set in. He said, "I'm sorry but if I can't let you work out without your ID. It's a liability thing." What i said in response was something like "what? really? You see, I have no idea where it is so I can't just go back and get it right now. Would it be okay if I give you my emergency contact info just today? I kinda really need to workout." All along intrusive thoughts are like, while you speak and try to make coherent sentences and explain to hint to this white boy you good so you won't really cause any problems and you really need to work out, Imma try to think about 20 half-baked ideas why he might be being so fucking petty about this; this might be his first day, so he following every petty rule Stupid Commander In Chief lady in charge of the gym has told him to follow. Do i not look like a fucking students? Why the fuck this is funny? He is saying sorry, but is he really? Should I let myself lose it on his ass? Would me telling him that I know exactly how the fucking policy works make a difference? I fucking did his job during the summer yet I still let it slide when some student forgot their stupid ID. Actually, EVERYBODY but his petty ass is chill about this policy because we are at Whitman and everybody is chill but him. How does he look like the fucking Prime Whitman stereotype yet have no chill? I feel so bad for half wanting to slice his skinny, ashy, unshaved throat with my eyes and get him fired but I just give him a "alright, I'm done talking with your stupid bureaucratic ass" look and after he apologizes for the last time, I mumble "no worries, it's nkt your fault" and leave. As i leave i can feel him following me with his eyes from the front desk. I can't help but start complaining to myself outloud about this bullshit as I get back in the car. I know he stilk looking and I kinda want him to know that today, he might have ruined my fucking day for being so fucking petty and if I see him around, he better at least remember with his neurotypical, beauracratuc brain my bun, my eyes, my voice and try to avoid me like the plague because i might just give him the biggest shade I've given in my life. I have close to zero self-control and I'm not about to try to waste the little amount that I do have on his sorry ass... 3. Another fuck you ADHD felt like giving me today was that, while all this was happening, part of me knew that it makes sense what he is doing: his fucking job. Yet, that didn't stop me from feeling like I was about to burst and ridicule myself in front of his white ass. So, I drive off and lose it. I'm trying to figure out what the fuck to do now that the one the biggest things I was trying to accomplish today isn't gonna happen. I was already mad at myself the instant i heard him tell me i couldn't use the gym but now that the idea that i woke up early for no fucking reason and worked so hard to get my understimulated ass to the gym to turn right back having done no excercise and actually more mentally exasperated than i would have imagined sinks in, I get even more mad at my self. Long story short, I ended up coming to the conclusion that it ain't my fault or his, at least I want to think so, it's just a fucking shitty situation we all in. I think of complaining to the college for this bs, but it probs wont happen because I know the probability that I'll actually do it is less than minimal. I know i shouldn't go back home yet because once I'm in there there is no power on this earth that will get me to build the motivation to do anything but watch youtube videos until it's 4-fucking-am in the fucking morning and I have to set my alarm, again, to wake me up in four or five hours because I got to wake up early again to give my unmotivated, understimulated, and bitter ass extra time to actually get out of bed and maybe do something productive. So, instead of gping home I secide to drive to Benington Lake and walk or maybe even try running. I've been scared to run because I know I'm super out of shape and running when I'm this unfit might make me feel like running is torture, which is not. But then I think, "I do love running and miss it terribly so this might actually turn out good. Let's just try it." So here i am. In the Benington Lake parking area, in the car, writing this rant. Just for the record, i just spent one and a half hours typing this. It's 1:33pm right now. ADHD, all i know is that you're real annoying some times. Most times actually. Right now, I'm going to go and venture out into this beautiful landscape for about an hour. Listen to Bey, walk, run, try to meditate, put this shitty start to my day behind me, and maybe start thinking of ways to start finding humor in all this ordeals for my own mental sake. Peace out.
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This post is probably going to interest more women then men. You see, I’m 5"11 and have always been athletic. I loved running, biking and hiking. As a mom, I always kept my kids on the go. As a family we would have field days where we played games and I would drag them kicking and screaming and then of course they would go on about how much fun they had.
Many of you may find this post shallow and superficial but my goal is to always be as transparent and honest as possible. When I first got diagnosed with TM in the fall of 2015 I wasn’t scared. Even though I was paralized from the waist down, I knew I would walk again and I would be healed and overcome this. My husband Ben of all people will vouch for this. Being paralized wasn’t an option. What I wasn’t prepared for was the journey my body would go through in order to walk again.
From the fall 2015 to now (Feb 1st 2017) my body had been through pure torture. Medications, side effects, withdrawals, relapse, inflammation, weight gain, spams, and I could keep going on forever. Finally one day around the fall of 2016 (a year after starting this fight) I looked in the mirror and no longer recognized my own body. I had always been tall, lean, athletic and disciplined. As I looked in the mirror I saw a figure that looked 6 months pregnant due to intestinal inflammation, swollen and puffy from medications, dark circles around my eyes from exhaustion (because pain interrupts sleep), thinned eye brows…eye lashes…and hair due to medications, and even my figure nails were thin and frail.
I was the same funny, outgoing, fighter on the inside but on the outside, something very different had taken place. The best way to describe it would be if you had brown hair and brown eyes and weighed 130lbs when you went to sleep. The next morning you wake up and find yourself with blonde hair, blue eyes and 250lbs. You are the same person in the shell but boy oh boy, your shell changed.
My faith, physical excercise, and a balanced life style has always been my life. I’ve never known anything but that. Now, all of a sudden the rules have changed dramatically and no matter how much I prayed, my shell (body) wasn’t responding the way I wanted it to. Before, canoeing and going for a run was a good day. Now, if I was able to dress myself and walk that day, it was a good day.
As people around me talked about how grateful I should be because I was walking, shallow and embarrassed, I didn’t feel grateful. You see, I expected to walk. Not walking wasn’t an option for me. What I didn’t expect was coming home from the hospital to someone else’s dressing closet. Who was this woman who had tailored business suits and work out gear? The woman who looked back at me in the mirror was always wearing bohemian dresses and pants now because they didn’t put pressure on her spine. The woman who owned this closet had an amazing collection of heels, accessories and purses. The woman who stood in this closet felt intimidated because all of these beautiful things were no longer apart of my world (for the time being).
After crying and grieving the loss of the exterior part of my identity, I began the adventure of the fashion world while fighting TM. Anyone who has a loved someone fighting cancer, leukemia or TM can tell you that hope, confidence and humor are some of the staples of making it through (with your sanity intact).
I’ve come to realize there are stages to the process. #1. You’re heartbroken because you liked who you were and your closet that came with it. After all, for many of us women, we have wonderful memories that come with our clothing and accessories. Then I moved on to level #2. Upset that no one told me from the beginning that my physical identity would be taken away. Of course my spiritual identity was growing stronger but at no point no one told me that my favorite pair of jeans and T-shirt should just go ahead and be donated. Then I moved on to #3. What could be salvaged? Instead of being the woman who cried in the dressing room because I refused to except my new swollen waist line, I decided to shop for new pieces of clothing and use as many accessories as I had. I know many of you reading this may be thinking, “well duh” but for an emotional woman who is adjusting to a new life style and a new body shape, this phase is not as simple as it sounds. So now I was at the stage of recreating my own style again. It’s just this time, my outfits would be more spine friendly. And then there is finally level #4. You make peace with the fact that your exterior shell has changed and instead of comparing yourself to who you use to be, embrace who God has allowed you to become for the season you are in. No, you probably won’t stay this way. Yes, you will have hard days. Yes, there will be days where you see a picture of who you use to be on the outside but keep telling yourself that you are on a journey. A journey that has phases. Phases of set backs and phases of moving forward. So instead of avoiding selfies and dodging family photos, I made a choice that in this phase of my journey I will embrace who God has allowed me to be. Swollen, puffy, dark eyes, fevers and all. Thankfully as a woman, we have all kinds of products to work with now days lol.
Growing and learning as you face life doesn’t make you shallow but sinking into depression because you feel as if you’ve lost your physical identity is dangerous. Maybe you’re reading this and you just had a baby? Maybe you’re the spouse of someone who is facing this topic? Maybe you just got a medical diagnosis and you have no idea what to expect? I want to leave you with a few thoughts.
1. No matter where you’re at in your life, God is with you. You may not feel it but he hears your prayers and he’s there.
2. Life is always changing and it’s okay to admit sometimes that you’re not a fan of all the dips and circles that come with it.
3. Don’t compare who you are today to who you were last year. Mentally, spiritually or physically. Embrace who you are today. Flaws and all. (I know this seems a little, “well duh” but we all need to be reminded.)
4. It’s okay to recreate who you are. If your facing a situation where you feel like life is making changes for you, start taking control back. Even if it’s just buying a new shade of red lipstick and the awesome earings. Confidence is beautiful!
5. You’re not alone. No matter what phase you are going through in life, there are others going through similar situations. They may not be openly talking about it but they are there.
6.Last but not least, every chance you get compliment yourself and those around you. Choose to use your words to empower and build yourself and others up. So your eyeliner looks like a raccoon today, so what. Compliment the girl at the check out line on her earings. You never know how bad she needs a kind word.
Thankfully I have 2 teenage daughters and a thoughtful husband who support me, love me and they tell me when I’m sporting something that doesn’t make the cut. Lol They are also there to encourage me, compliment me and cheer me on too.
#sickfashion#fashion#body#bodyshamers#loveyourself#loveyourbody#loveyourlife#sickness#newlife#makeover#body positive#bodypositivity#bodyhealth#identity#faith#fashionandfun#newyou#lifemakeover#fightsickness#powerfulwomen#wordshavepower#strongwomen#beautiful women#worldchangers#beautiful#beauty products#style#street style#styleyourlife#styleyourstory
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CHADAR
CHADAR
“ If you can be Love in any situation, Then you are in Meditation”
Osho
“ On the Chadar,Everything freezes but Tears”
National Geographic
Chadar Trek on the Frozen River Zanskar – Leh Ladhak, Jammu & Kashmir,21/01/2018 to 31/01/2018
Thoughts
My body was struggling from cold, extreme cruel cold ( if you can call -35 degrees that!), and then there was walking on ice, which only felt /looked good on you tube video featuring similar a*******!!! And yes sleep!!! Or the lack of it! The moment you try to close your sleeping bag , completely cutting out any air from outside, you start suffocating, less air, heavy breathing, foul words ( inside your head), and just as you put your sunburned nose out for a whiff of fresh air , your hand accidentally hits the side of your tiny camp/tent and the small ice formations on the top of it fall down right onto it…. Your nose….. $$$****$$#### more bad words! There goes your sleep. As if it was there in the first place, Crazy!!
But what was real torture was not the queue for morning ablutions or the no water or bathing period for all the 6 days or sleeplessness. ZIP !! Yes ZIP was the real Pain Clinician!! The only time you have to face the beast on a normal day is while wearing your Pant. But here in Chadar there is a ZIP almost everywhere. On your down jacket ( Which is on top of 4 other layers of various types of clothes , thanks amazon) you have at least two zips on your handpockets where you will place a) mobile b) Lip balm ( My Wife said ill spoil my lips) c) Wet Tissue Packs d) Sanitizer e) chocolates and umpteen other un-necessities. You need to zip and unzip them to take all goodies in and out. They may get stuck, may come out altogether and you are highly inconvenienced, to have said the least. After endless such zipping and unzipping during your trek, in the evening , what greets you is more Zipping and Unzipping. The dinner tent, our cute sleeping tents ( with two zip covers), the washroom ( to put it sweetly), sleeping bags ( two of them) all have zips. They get stuck, stop working and you are in trouble, lot of it!! It went this way , To satisfy your Hunger pangs after a hard days trek, you get into the dinner tent ----ZIP---Get In----ZIP Down-----Oops you forgot the sanitizer----ZIP Up---Out-----Close the Tent shouts one frozen soul from the inside---ZIP down ----- Then Sleeping Tent-----ZIP Up----twice-----Crazy search for sanitizer-----ZIP Down----Twice-----Back to the Tent------ZIP Up and -----ZIP Down----Dinner over ---ZIP UP-----ZIP Down ---- Sleeping Tent ----ZIP Up Twice -----ZIP Down Twice ------Repeat, you need to pee before sleeping ---- Then comes the most painful of it all ---- The sleeping bags!!!! Now multiply all these by 6---- days on Chadar!!!!
You need to be a yoga expert to be able to sleep without using profanities!! But having done all and having succeeded in getting into your sleeping bag , you slowly start relaxing, no more fights with the ZIP, not until next morning or the midnight pee. Then, as you close your eyes, your tired mind suddenly wakes up. You start seeing those beautifully colored mountains with almost nil vegetation, changing shades with every turn and curve, those fantastic artistically designed rocks, a red , a blue, a green a yellow and so on and on, of all shapes and sizes, the beautifully flowing Zanskar river sometimes white, sometimes blue or a deep green, singing a song similar to those sung by our Zanskari Porter during their post dinner ordeal, those ice petals more like a lotus flower floating on top of them. There were rows of ice crystals along the edges of the river, wonderfully formed, like jewellery by cartier or bvlgari, shining brightly in the sun. The sky was mostly blue, then green ,yellow and orange as the sun passess, only to bring in that wonderfully bright and large moon!! Jhule—Jhule --- Jhule ---- your heart starts dancing to the tunes of nature!! Bliss!!!! You start experiencing a deep Joy, or Love for everything and anything around you. And somehow you realize that that Joy or love is going to remain in your heart for eternity!!! And then some sleep.
Facts
Trekking Distance – 80kms, Maximum Altitude -11,123 ft , Temperature – (-10 to -35), Days – 6
(No Roads, No habitat, Sleeping tents & Food need to be carried, 4 to 5 layers of winter clothing , oxygen cylinders and basic medicines for emergency, chances of Altitude Mountain Sickness, Acclimatise for atleast 2 days before trek at Leh)
We were 18 of us ,Doctor Saab and Amitabh Saab being the eldest. Amitabh Saab was known to me, after all it was he who did everything to make me and Captain comfortable during our stay for Desert BRM. I remember meeting our Spartan King and Babu Prince during that same event. The Adorable Couple, there were two of them, had just put their photos on the groups whattsapp account, making it easy to recognize them at Delhi airport. Shetty with that handsome bearded face and Military Prince greeted us at the airport. Iron Man, I wont forget him, he visited Leh on his bermudas, can u believe that? It was -7 degrees there. Snow white had arrived on the same day as Mountain Man and Captain, i.e, a day before us. The trip to Leh was fantastic. I was lucky to watch the mountains down below as I had got the window seat. Leh at last, and the view was breathtaking, mountains, lots of them. Trip to our hotel was short. We were lucky to have got such a hotel what with hot water, heated beds and even some south Indian breakfast. Went out in the evening for some shopping and also collected our gum boots from the nearby office of the tour operator. All arrangements were made and bags were filled and unfilled to balance weight and necessities. The next day we set out on our journey, visiting Pathar Sahib on the way. The way was treacherous with narrow roads and I imagined falling down the valley. If we fell straight down without going upside down, the view would still have made us spell bound, almost forgetting the fall. So beautiful was the view outside. After settling down in our sleeping tents at the base camp in Darr, few minitues later, we put on our Gum boots and started practicing a bit on frozen Zanskar banks below. Then, having had dinner, we left to our tents for some sleep. All that we had dreamed till now, would be a reality in some hours.
We had a great start, some slow , some fast but all as excited and energetic as ever. Walking on the snow was fun, at least the first day. Stopping to gaze at a green ice formation or that startling Mountain at the end of the valley. Rocks attracted me, never saw such colours, such finish, the Creator was at his best. Clicks on the mobile, some using DSLR to create finise Cinderella wouldn’t have left an inch of it. She was always last to finish, clicking every turn and curve. We stopped when tired. Drank hot water from the thermos, which we carried on our shoulder bags. Then set off towards our destination. We walked half of the journey before lunch and by 4 or 5 am we’re at our days stop. The steep climb at the start and at Nayrek were the only places where we found it difficult. A minor mistake would have taken us into depths, down to the half flowing, frozen Zanskar. Otherwise, it was walking on plain ice. Small talks, philosophies, jokes and other exchanges brought us together as a group. Sitting around the gas stove in the evening at our destination dinner tent warmed our legs and sox and singing songs while drinking hot tea warmed our soul. We were happy.
There was an accident on the 3rd day. Two of the porters were lost. We were less by one sleeping tent and 10 sleeping bags. Horror!! We were to freeze to death!! Friction, hot exchange of words, somehow the cold outside had crept into our hearts. But then common sense prevailed and we made our hearts bigger to accommodate one extra person in some tents thus making it much warmer. “My views have changed, humans are basically good, not bad”, said our Little Mrs Sunshine while we were walking, somehow that night, the same thought crossed my mind Some had to sleep with only an upper sleeping bag. But we survived. The desert team had to leave early, some had to catch a flight on 28. They left early, walking and covering more distance than us. 10 of us were left. But we had a happy reunion on Republic day, they were coming back fom Nayrek, we walking towards it. We had a Desh Bhakti moment in between and lots of clicks. They left us, some promising to stay back till we came. At Leh. Babu Prince promised me a champagne bottle. Never saw him when I returned. But I will come for it when I get back, and I am not coming back only for a bottle, I am coming for all of it Desert Prince!! Doc Bhai, Chauhan Saab, Shetty and Military Prince did the honours though!! Thank you!!
Our guide was a cool man, Kashi,“hanji” was all he said. Never upset, never angry , always on his toes and checking the last person during the trek. The porters and cook worked all day and most part of night to make us comfortable. There was hot water all round, maggi and chocolate for a quick lunch on the way, followed by that awesome kaba tea, of which I used to gulp down a minimum of 3 cups. Breakfast was poha, poori or paratha and there were lots of stuff which all us had got like thepla, ladoo( that was me), adhadiya, pedas etc. in fact there was so much food, that even our Zanskari Porter started running away, when we forcefully fed them theplas!! There was also scrambled eggs and bread all served hot. Evenings we had Dal Rice, roti, some sabzi and even a dessert like gulab jamun, hot fruit salad etc. Sometimes the food was too good ( I weighed myself at Leh airport) and we had to stop in between to relieve. Chauhan Saab and Captain proved to be excellent company during such “ Khullas”. Me and Mountain Man, we’re Potty partners in the morning. During one such outing Akshay Kumar’s “ Toilet Ek Prem Katha” came into my mind. Sorry no more Potty details!The walks/treks were good, as your body was excercising and warm. Evening and nights were tough. Cold , very cold. We used to visit the small caves after dinner where the porters used to cook/sleep. At times we had the good fortune of hearing them play their pipes and sing. Melodious. Some nights we all joined together around a camp fire ( Firewood was scarce, and was available only on top of the mountains)to dance to the tunes of latest hindi songs and remixes. Lady Diana and Mrs Dixit knew how to shake a leg. Doc Bhai was the best among males. I believe everyone tolerated my ugly moves, maybe because I was ok otherwise. Poor guy, let him be, they might have thought. We had a visitor, Million Dollar Baby, we called her, a professional boxer, who couldn’t make the trek due to AMS. Later, I cant imagine the poses I gave for that post dinner fiasco by our Captain at Nayrek. Night photography, he called it. No less than torture for me, being tired and cold, as always. The results though, were fantastic.
After walking for 3 days through the narrow gulf of the beautiful mountains hearing only the crunching snow under your feet and the singing Zanskar, we finally reach the destination, Nayrek! Was I happy when I saw that outstanding view! , Spectacular!! God was down here for sure, taking time personally to construct that crystal cube made frozen waterfall!! It was out of this world. But more than anything else, I felt relieved. That’s it! We are here, no more onward journey! Time to turn back. I was literally exhausted, I mean, after 12 kms walk on snow( Total onward Journey to Nayrek was around 40 kms), and then the steep mountain climb and ascend in the end to reach Nayrek waterfalls ( Chadar broke at the right place , just at the end), anybody would be. Lots of Kodak moments, dancing masti and some Desh Bhakti later most of us left for the tents. The sun was going down but four of us were still there, including our Captain, taking pictures in all permutation combination. You can’t afford to miss anything, after all who knows whether we can make it here again!! I started walking back slowly climbing the steep mountain overlooking Nayrek village. Once up, we took some time to catch our breath, wait for the captain, but more so for the view from the top. It got emotional when the four of us joined together on the top. Tears of joy, having completed something so tough and beautiful at the same time, flowed down her cheeks when Captain complimented her, Mrs Dixit. I too had tears in my eyes, more so because our dear Captain had got back my walking stick and goggles which I considered lost!!!
Here to There
Just as I crossed 35, realization that I was nearing mid age dawned upon me. My blood tested positive for Diabetes type 2. I was depressed at first, then something inside me clicked, I started taking to badminton for an hour, then went on to increase it to one more. As 40 approached sad depressive songs filled my literary palate. Mid life crisis!I needed motivation. Took on running as an exercise, even went on to do a 10 km quarter marathon. Then Mountain man inspired me, his style statement, a la Sharukh Khan , made me buy my wife a cycle for our anniversary , two years back. She gifted me one too, a Montra MTB. Though I never attempted to copy his stunts, I felt like a hero myself, riding on that fluorescent green bike to and fro to my badminton court, 2.5 kms from home. That’s when our Captain chanced upon me and qualified me for a membership in our cycling club. I was elated. Next morning I did a 25 km ride, followed it up with a 40 km ride on a rainy day and then on a 125 km tiring ride to a far off temple. Though the last ride kept me in bed for 2 days, I was back and kicking in no time. Saboo, my friend, saved me from all those ferocious dogs on our early morning rides to various destinations in our city. Our city was beautiful, I discovered, and it changed color with every season. The next time I rode with Captain was for a BRM, 200 kms. Did it,lifted the cycle for a picture and posted it on all known social media sites, facebook, whattsapp, instagram. After all it was my first victory after LKG , And all due goes to our Captain!!
That was 3 months ago, somewhere in September 2017, when he showed me the video, ice falls, ice walk, ice sleep, it was all white. Once again, I became an LKG boy and asked Captain the same question, can I do it? After all it was one of India’s most challenging treks. The answer was the same, Yes. Then began a maniacal purchase session on amazon and decathalon. Down jacket, fleece jacket, inner, gloves, outer gloves, sticks, small bag, rakshak and a lot of other un necessities. Not even for my marriage have I purchased so much!! And if not for Captain, I would have accumulated even more. The first trek of my life, I was very excited. Then there were training sessions, starting at 5.30 am, running up and down a 60 degree slanting road after 15 kms of cycling for more than a month. That was followed by squats and other core exercises. But what made us get up in the morning was hot milk served at the joint next to the dam. To add spice, Saboo used to regularly bring in some good saffron. He was made to do all exercises in spite of the fact that he was not coming for the trek. Cinderella and Snow White made it only by 7.30 am, once we were finished with our workout, and then followed a series of artistic photography where no Spiders were spared!!
After months of early morning cycle rides, walking and running around our lake and countless cups of yummy saffron milk, I found myself at Ahmedabad airport calling out our Captains name in vain. Nobody to Chadar?? Where were those Spartan Princes, where were those wonderful Couple? Nobody?? Inspite of my diabetes, I had already downed two sugary doughnuts and a cup of coffee (With two sachets of brown sugar mind you). I made love to Delhi water, the next day morning, using both hot and cold water to bathe. I was told that the next time I use water to wash will be when I am back in Delhi, i.e, after 11 days. Yuck!!!!. Picking up Cinderella and Mrs. Dixit, I reached Delhi the airport. Just before breakfast, Shetty tapped me on my back, he asked, Chader?? Captain?? And then the rest followed suit. Bachan Saab, I knew, then there was Iron Man, our poster boy wearing only bermudas to Leh??!! Captain greeted us at the Leh airport and that was followed by lots of camera and mobile clicks. The team was ready!! Chadar here we come!!
Moment
Never in my whole preparatory period of 3 months or during the first 3 days of the trek was I prepared for that Moment. We were on the hill overlooking Nayrek Village and the frozen waterfall. Just the two of us, Captain and me, as Cinedrella and Mrs Dixit climbed down, after that emotional moment. We decided to spend some time after everyone left. I agreed, even though I was dead tired, for our Captain, after having spent all these days watching over us, needed some time for himself, to breathe in the sweet mountain air, to take in the beautiful view and just be there at the moment. We decided not to make any noise, let alone talk. The only sound was Zanskar singing. The view was enthralling and the moment was pure meditation, peace. I was awed by the amount of Love and Joy I felt. Captain’s thoughts were louder than mine and it brought me back. I heard him whispering ‘’ Mujhe Yahan Se Nahin Jana Hai, Nair saab, Mujhe Yahan se nahin Jana”. Das Saal se, Das saal se……..the rest of his words were too weak to hear above Zanskars music. I was watching a very beautiful moment in my life. More beautiful than all that was around me, was our Captains Emotions, Joy, Happiness, Love or was it something else, yet to be named by silly humans. (When asked by a local where he belonged to, during our trek, he replied, Yahin ka hoon, bus kamane keliye yahan wahan jana padtha hai) Was it his moment or mine? Of course his!!! He had waited for 10 years to be there. Me a mere 3 months. But then why was I so happy, why was I filled with such uncomprehend able feelings. Or were we the same me and Captain?? All I knew was that I was burdened for life by this unexplainable sweet feeling. And as a sign of victory, right then, God let us watch two Tibetan Wolves running across Nayrek Village, speeding across the mountain ranges in wind speed, covering them in no time. ( Captain says they were foxes, I prefer Wolf). Both sped at the same pace and had the same distance left between them till they vanished from our eyes. My destination was Nayrek, but I was destined for a better view, for which I thank God Almighty. A different I climbed down the mountain.
P.S. :- The last three days were care free and beautiful. I still shouted profanities at night and ZIP pestered me till we reached base camp. Chader!!
Jhule ( Namasthe)
I Honour the place in You in which the entire Universe Dwells.
I Honour the place in You which is of Love, of Truth, of Light and Peace.
When You are in that place in You and I am in that place in Me
We are One.
Special thanks to both beautiful Bhabhis and their equally lovable Bhaiyas, , the Spartan Desert Prince Team for their Spirit, Our own Zanskari guide and his mates for making our life a lot easier at Chader, Mountain Man for being with our Gals, and all three Sweet Gals for Wonderful company, Cinderella for selfless love, Snow White for Gyan (She was my best companion) and Mrs Dixit for the ACT (Enacted a scene from her Theater). Captain, I won´t thank you for anything!! I just won’t!! How can I thank myself?? Right ??
And yes, to my beautiful wife and kids, for silently suffering my absence.
M.B.Nair
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