#|| all i know is bad decisions;; c: reese ||

[xbloodandstone]

Special Delivery for @reese-bartlet

It had been a while since Casey had gotten him good and fucking drunk. And today seemed like a spectacular day for it. Early that day, he received a call from his partner's wife, just wanting to reach out and see how he was doing. Whenever he spoke to Nicole, Casey felt awful. Hearing her voice just reminded him of how he had ripped her husband away from her. It was a reminder that he took away their children's dad. It was just too fucking much and the kicker was that he could never tell Nicole to leave him alone. He owed her that much to sit and fucking listen to her grief from what he had done to her.

Before the man had even left his apartment, he downed majority of the bottle of scotch he had before, which already had gotten him good and drunk. Everything else after that was just icing on top. Casey went to Barcade, drinking shot after shot of whiskey until the bartender cut him off. It was a miracle he had been drinking as long as he had but Casey could drink a lot before he started to show he was drunk. Pros and cons of being an alcoholic.

Stumbling out of the bar, Casey made his way outside and just tripped over his own feet, sending him to the ground with a thud. He groaned immediately and rolled over until he was sitting up and leaning against the wall. His eyes were glazed over, starting to doze off with every passing moment he sat there.

#|| all i know is bad decisions;; c: reese || #enter drunk casey

[ejzah]

A/N: I swear I was working on this chapter before I got that anon ask today, but it just encouraged me to finish it more quickly.

***

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 30

Kensi spent the night fuming after she left Deeks’ house. After meeting Monica, she perfectly understood why he’d been so out of sorts. She’d only spent a few minutes with his ex and had to resist the urge to throw something. She could only imagine how difficult it was to deal with her snide comments and manipulation for hours at a time.

She didn’t know what Monica would tell Deeks, if anything, though he’d like wonder where the coffee mysteriously appeared from. Over the course of the evening, she picked up her phone half a dozen times to call or text Deeks, but ultimately decided not to. Deeks had enough on his plate without her adding more drama. She’d just have to hope that Monica didn’t try to paint her in a bad light, and if she did, that Deeks could see through the lies.

When she got to work the next morning, Nell took one look at her face, and immediately got out her stash of chocolate, offering Kensi the meerkat decorated jar. Kensi took three Reese’s and started setting up for the day. She’d been too distracted last night to prep as much as she should have so now she’d have to rush to get things ready before the first bell.

“Ok, spill. You walked in here looking ready for murder,” Nell said, making herself at home in Kensi’s desk chair.

“I went to surprise Deeks with some coffee, but when I got there he wasn’t home. But Monica was,” Kensi explained tightly.

“Oh crap, what happened?”

“Let me see. She said she’d been wanting to meet me, accused me of being jealous, and told me all the things she knows about me and Deeks.” She dropped a wipe off writing page at each spot at one of the round table, then tore the wrapper off a chocolate and shoved it in her mouth. “And then she had the audacity to say she’s just looking out for him,” she ranted, slamming a basket of markers in the middle of the table. “Looking out for him would have been, I don’t know, coming to see her son more than one every year or so. Or maybe not just up and leaving her family.”

Kensi turned around, hands on her hips to face Nell. She was slightly gratified to see Nell’s stunned expression.

“Oh my god, that’s insane. What did Deeks say?” Nell asked.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why the hell not?!” Nell shouted, then seemed to remember where they were, and lowered her voice. “He needs to know how crazy this woman is.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows,” Kensi hedged. Nell gave her an unimpressed look. “Fine. I didn’t want to bug him with it. Monica was infuriating and has zero sense of boundaries, but she didn’t actually do anything truly terrible. He’s dealing with enough as it is.”

“He’d still want to know,” Nell insisted.

“You’re probably right. I need to cool down a little more before I make any decision though. Deeks does not need to hear the rant you just did.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Reaching into the candy jar, Nell tossed Kensi another piece. “And in the mean time, I could have Eric delete all her online information and presence. He wouldn’t leave a trace,” Nell offered, with a focused, slightly unnerving stare that scared Kensi a little bit. “It’s not obvious and hard to track. ‘Oh, none of your credit cards are working and no one knows who you are? That’s odd.’”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kensi said quickly, and Nell shrugged, checking her watch.

“Well, the offer is always open if you change your mind. I have to go set up watercolor stations. The first graders are making coffee filter fishies today.”

“Cute. Thanks for listening to me rant.”

Nell gave Kensi a hug, adding in an extra squeeze. “Anytime.” When she pulled back, she fixed Kensi with a serious look. “Talk to Deeks.”

“I will.”

Smiling in approval, Nell headed for the door in her usual swirl of skirts.

“Oh, and just to reiterate, that is a complete no on the digital erasing!”

“You’re no fun!” Nell called back from down the hall.

***

“No, that is not a satisfactory offer,” Deeks muttered to himself, setting the proposed contract for a new client aside, and grabbing a pen.

“Deeks, just who I was looking for.”

He didn’t need to look to know that Talia would be leaning halfway through his door.

“Not in the mood today, Talia,” he said shortly.

“Aw, are things not all sunshine and rainbows in Marty and Kensi land?” she asked. Deeks odd look up now, and smiled tightly.

“Our relationship is just fine, thanks for asking. Now, I have like ten contracts to review today, so I could spare your usual charming presence.”

He knew he was being unnecessarily rude, even to Talia, who thrived on getting him to react. His patience was at an all time low after spending increasingly more time in Monica’s company over the week though.

Instead of taking the hint, Talia grabbed a spare chair, dragging it right next to his. She spun it around to sit backwards, resting her forearms on the back.

“Wow, you really are out of sorts. You haven’t been this cranky since you first started, and definitely not since you met the teacher,” she noted, tiling her head to observe him. “Hm, bloodshot eyes, bad mood, doesn’t want to talk…did you have a bad surf?”

Deeks huffed out an irritated laugh. “No.”

“They ran all out of fish tacos at your favorite truck.”

“No. Are you done?”

“Definitely not. I’ll keep going until you either tell me or I guess right.”

Sighing, Deeks pressed his palms over his eyes. He did not have the energy for this. “My ex-wife is back in town after no contact for over a year, and now she seem to be trying to rebuild her relationship with Caleb. So naturally he’s a mess, I’m a mess, and she seems to be having the time of her life.” He finished by blowing out a noisy breath. “Sorry. That was a lot.”

Talia shook her head, looking angry. “Don’t apologize. I’d be mad too. Who does your ex think she is waltzing in and trying to insert herself back into your life?” she demanded.

Deeks turned his head to squint at her, vaguely surprised the intensity of her response. “Wow, I had no idea you felt so strongly about my dysfunctional personal life.”

Talia jabbed a finger at him. “Hey, the only one who gets to torture you, is me. Plus, I find your relationship with the teacher adorable.”

“Wonderful.”

“So where’s she staying? Not with you I hope.”

“Thank god, no,” Deeks said with a shudder. “I honestly don’t know and don’t care. I learned the first time she came back that it’s best to keep as much as a separation as possible. But, she’s been coming over for dinner or visits every couple days.”

“Do you have visitation rights set up?”

“Nah, I have full, uncontested custody. I’m letting the visits happen for as long as Caleb wants them.”

“I hate flighty parents,” Talia said darkly, adding to Deeks’ raised eyebrow. “I had an uncle like that. Give me just five minutes alone with your ex. I’m trained in jiujitsu, karate, taekwondo, and good old knock-down-drag-out fights,” she informed Deeks with a significant nod.

“Good to know. You worry me sometimes,” Deeks commented lightly. “Also, how have you not been arrested before?”

“Hey, there’s a reason I became a lawyer.”

“Lovely. I think I’ll pass on that for now.”

“Suit yourself,” Talia said, slapping her thighs with her palms.

“You know, it actually helped talking to you,” Deeks said, surprising himself by admitting it. “Thanks.”

“Of course. It’s no fun messing with you when you’re already in a bad mood,” she told him. Because of course she couldn’t just take a compliment. “As repayment though, you will be buying me lunch today.”

“I think I can handle that,” Deeks sighed. Talia nodded in approval.

“Oh, and just in case you need an outside perspective, I’m always happy to talk over the legal side of all this,” she added. “Totally on the down low though. I can’t have people thinking I’m friendly.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Deeks promised, smiling for the first time all morning.

***

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the parallel of Kensi and Deeks each getting advice and a listening ear from a friend. This version of Talia is certainly a lot more helpful and less handsy than in canon or my previous interpretations.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #Nell #Talia #teacher Kensi #lawyer Deeks #self-indulgent writer #friendship #in Miss Blye’s Class #part 30 #teacher au #ejzah fanfiction

[chicagomedfan]

So- I was watching Chicago med season 2 episode 18 and There’s a scene where Sarah Reese is on the roof top where Jason Wheeler Killed himself. I was wondering what if Sarah was gonna attempt suicide. So here it is.

Sarah stood on top of the same rooftop that Jason Wheeler had jumped off on. Sarah began to think about jumping as well. ‘Nobody truly would miss me.’ She started in her thoughts. Climbing up. ‘Nobody would care. I would be forgotten in 6 months.’ She thought. Sarah then stood on top and look down. Ready to jump. Dr. Charles came through the door disrupting her suicide attempt. “Hey Dr Reese, I was trying to page you-“ Dr. Charles stopped in utter shock by what he was seeing. “Dr. Reese-“ He starts. “I-I’m sorry- I-I can’t anymore.” Sarah Reese starts. “I- can’t sleep- I c-can’t eat- I wanna- be f-free- I wanna see Jason again..” Sarah says as she continues to look down. “Dr. Reese I 100% understand I can’t sleep that well either but the ED has already have one loss. We don’t need another.” Dr Charles says as he walks closer to Sarah. “I don’t th-think many people would miss me, y-you know? It would just be like a-a another casualty.” Sarah says as tears trickle down her face. “Sarah your death a casualty? No way. We’re all family. Everybody would be in tears if you jump off. Sarah, I need you. Your a good doctor a great psychiatrist. You belong in the Hospital, hell your family here. Losing you would be the worst I mean worst lost for the ED and me. Even, Hell even Sharon would be crying.” Dr Charles continues “Sarah, please I don’t want to lose you. We all don’t wanna lose you. Don’t do it. Please don’t jump.”

Those words rang in Sarah’s head. She still wanted to jump but Dr Charles words had put her to a stop. Glancing at him she saw tears were glistening from his eyes. ‘He really does mean it.’ Sarah thinks to herself. She looks down once more and turns her head towards Dr Charles. She gulped down a lot. Sarah had to make a decision. Die or the ED, her job and Dr Charles. She made her mind up and turned her self around towards Dr Charles. He looked at her. Holding his hand out. She reached out and he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a comfort hug. Sarah cried realizing, she almost had done it. “Shhh….” Dr Charles soothed the young psychiatrist and he protectively hugged her. Sarah wiped her eyes and sniffled a bit before looking up at Dr charles. “A-Are you gonna a-admit m-me..?” Sarah asks through her sniffles. “No, but whenever your feeling something. Feeling suicidal. Feeling bad about Dr Wheeler. Come to me, Sarah. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” Dr. Charles says looking down at Sarah. She nods and hugs him again. “Let’s head back inside. I have a patient. You, Sarah will lie down in my office.” Sarah went to object but He put a hand on her shoulder. “At least for an hour.” Dr. Charles says. Sarah nods.

————————

Sarah lied down in Dr Charles office for about 30 minutes she was napping and the other 30 minutes she was questioning some of her choices. She was thankful for her job and for the people she’s surrounded by, she began to also question why did she almost kill herself. Why did she do it. Sarah got tired and had fell back to sleep. About another hour later. Dr. Charles had came in to see a sleeping Sarah Reese. He smiled at the sleeping Psychiatrist. Dr Charles had sandwich a water bottle and a bag of chips. He put the food down and walked over to where Sarah was sleeping. “Sarah…” Dr. Charles said. “Hmmmmm…….?” Sarah tiredly muttered. “I got you some food to eat. Sharon is letting you have a couple days off. To get your mind cleared. She knows.” Dr Charles says. “Oh ok..” Sarah yawns and sits up. Dr Charles hands the food to Sarah. “Oh and uh..Sharon said that you have to stay with me for those couple of days.” Dr Charles adds. Sarah stops. “Wait she said what?-“ Dr Charles looks down at her. “It’s her rules, Sarah. We’ll pick up some of your stuff when I’m about to leave.” Dr Charles says as he leaves the room. Sarah peacefully eats her food.

Once Sarah got settled in at Dr Charles house she had a question. “Where will I sleep Dr Charles?” Sarah asks. “You’ll sleep in the guest room for the couple of nights, that ok? He asks her. Sarah nods. Doctor Charles shows Sarah around his house all the rooms and how to get around. “I have to get to a meeting. I should not be long.” Dr Charles says leaving. “Call me if anything happens.” Dr Charles says leaving closing the door behind him. Sarah nods and goes to eat. When Doctor Charles returns he is to see Sarah eating his chocolate ice-cream while she is sitting on the counter scrolling on her phone. “Sarah-“ Dr Charles says. She looks at him. “What? I love chocolate, I’m saving you some.” Sarah says shrugging a bit. Dr Charles chuckles a bit. “Ok, ok Miss chocolate eater.” Dr Charles says playfully as he drops his bag. Sarah giggles a bit these days will not be gloomy and sad. Instead It could be filled of excitement and happiness.

#sharon goodwin #dr charles #Chicago med #Chicago #sarah reese #dr reese #Jason Wheeler #attempt #suicide #chocolate ice cream #happy ending #:)

[chanelhamitlon]

but its always been you|| Thomas Jefferson x Reader

word count: 1550

warnings: cusing, lack of proofreading, mentions of death

A/N: my first Thomas fic🙈 (Modern AU like most of them) Idk how collage works pls 😭

Inspiration: Youuu - COIN (its really good omg)

QUICK NOTE: the cuts are usually to switch between y/n and thomas

tell me if you wanna be in my permanent tag list :))

Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders.

"Jefferson,Thomas". He walked up the stage to receive his much deserved diploma. Four years of extensive studying just for this moment. He looked at the crowd and as if the world suddenly stopped. He focused on this one person. She had a camera up to her face, her hair glistening in the daylight. He looked like her as if he had seen a ghost. He snapped out of it as she lowered her camera. His girlfriend, of course. She smiled at him as the announcer calls on the next graduate. He walked down and towards her. Now that he thinks about it, he'd gaze out to her like this multiple times now, but he feels this is not because of her herself. He saw someone else in her. A high school sweetheart perhaps. He might've seen the gold flakes in her e/c colored eyes as he did with Y/n. He was sure he had long forgotten about her. She was special, sure but as high school sweethearts go, they stay in high school. He was convinced the countless exes he'd have were all to drown out her calling out for him once more. Just one more time at least. He'd like to think that moving to the other side of the world also helped with the cause. That was his number one priority; to forget about the one year they spent together.

You always thought that it wasn't anyone's fault that you and Thomas broke up. It was just not in anyones best interest to keep it going after high school and if the feelings last, he'd always say that he will find you. You lost faith that he'd come back of course. Whatever goes on in high school, stays in high school. You would go on several dates with people in college but you would always find yourself comparing them to Thomas. You focused on your studies, everyone telling you that you were smart; 'If only they knew how much I know about the things that really matter'.

You look at the clock '12:34 am'. Graduation was tomorrow or later. You were trying to fall asleep, and quickly at that, but you can't refrain from overthinking. Every scenario running through your head in a fast pace. Every outcome possible, you could have saved that relationship. Were you thinking of going back to New York to find him? It was nice as it is in California. You had your essentials, a good connection to your family online, but it was never really enough. You needed him.

The day came through fast paced. You would think that one of the most important milestones in live would be savored by time, running slowly. It was the opposite, time was never forgiving of you, years came by in a glimpse. You still felt like a kid, just not now. Graduation had such a surreal feeling to it, no one was never obliged to finish school of course, but you would think that something this sentimental would finally saturate the world with colors.

At the bus ride to downtown San Fransisco, your mind drifted off with ease. The music flowing to your ears made you feel like you were in a music video, those artsy kinds who would always try to incorporate daily life then proceed with a shot of a glamorous mansion. A song comes on, one of your favorites actually, Youuu by COIN.

' She moves just like you

She tastes like you

But its always been youuu...'

They say that music with certain themes will always trigger memories, flowing back to your brain. Even the ones you could have sworn you have forgotten. Thomas springs in to mind. He was a player in high school, of course he would have found someone new by now. That year was still pretty vivid to you though. All the sneaking around, all your firsts, the mini get togethers turned dates. You remember everything.

"Hey do you want to go out on Saturday?"Thomas' voice echoes through the walls of the almost room. He was staying with his girlfriend for the meantime since her parents were to insist on them 'not spending money on property' yet. Although Thomas was to never have a problem with money, his family was filthy rich at that. He was still deciding whether to stay here, with his girlfriend, in the suburbs, content with a stable income job; or to his family in New York City, a corporate job, and maybe even to you.

"What's the occasion?" Her voice sweetly said. Running her hands through his curls. "I wanna see you dance again." He said with a light chuckle. She laughed, "Come on... I don't dance THAT bad". He enjoyed moments like this. He truly did. The light touching and cuddling, just enjoying each others presence. He knew that she was human and he was truly sorry. He was sorry that she was being played like a pawn in the game of life. He was sorry that this was temporary. He was sorry that he was looking for someone. And he is sorry that that sorry that that someone wasn't her. They both noticed that the vinyl record had stopped playing. She stood up and changed the track record. Thomas sat up and looked at her. Her back was faced towards him. 'Even her silhouette reminds him of you' . The decision is clear then.

You started working a minimum wage job to pay the bills. You live in an apartment, sharing a space with your roommate, Reese. She was kind enough as it is, you both treated each other like family. She got you through when you were looking for a job. Now paying her back, you got her a little cake to celebrate her birthday. Going home from the cake shop, you stopped your tracks to see a rather tall man in the street, he was talking to someone on his phone. 'It couldn't possibly be him'. You wanted to think rationally at that moment, but you were overtaken by your emotions. You lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around to reveal a completely different person. You quickly apologized to the person. You weren't lying to yourself at this point, you were pretty devastated that it wasn't him.

Unlocking your apartment door, you heard mild sobs in the far left to you. That was your roommate's room. You closed the door and headed straight to her door. Knocking three times, you opened the door to a disheveled Reese, frantically grabbing tissues.

"What happened?" You were still going to approach her, mildly forcing her into toxic positivity. You were ready to listen to her. "I'm moving out." In your role as her roommate, this was the only thing that should concern you, but you were close and so you thought that something had happened at home. "My dad died. I'll move home and live there from now on." You understand completely that that was what she needed to do. You offer to help her on countless things of course. That night was one of the gloomiest in the apartment. You slowly watched her pack away most of her stuff, sulking away most days, above all that, conversation halted and was now a thing of the past.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Trying to make conversation at dinner, Thomas' girlfriend asked him to whether they would actually last or not. Long distance never really works for anyone, might as well rip the band-aid off now. Thomas looked like he was burried in a million thoughts, he looked at her apathetically, without an answer. They ate away the evening, they were the opposite of this lively restaurant. She looked at him, wanting to ask him more; what's are you thinking is at risk? what's weighing your shoulders down? is there 'a someone'?

Just as Thomas was to suggest leaving the restaurant and just saying sorry for the melancholy he brought to the evening, she stood up and suggested a dance. 'That's what they came for anyway.' He gladly accepted and took the lead, whisking her away to the dance floor. There were about 3 other couples around them, lost in their own world. He wants to think rationally, he doesn't want to loose his mind and let his emotions seep through his walls. They were slow dancing now. 'She really feels like y/n'.

"Who's y/n and why do I feel like her?"

Thomas froze. He accidentally said it out loud. There's no stoping it now, just tell her the truth; rip the band aid off.

"She's a girl I used to date in high sc-"

"Every relationship in high school stays in high school Thomas. grow up"

Thomas didn't know what to say.He didn't know why that sentiment ticked him off that way. He didn't know why his body was suddenly in flames. He didn't know what to say so all he did was run; run far away. She didn't understand. If you would've explained where you came from she would. No, she wouldn't.

Just before they reach the car she caught up to him. He turned around looking so distraught.

"Ive made up my mind."

part 2 👀?

#thomas jefferson #thomas #hamilton cast #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fandom #hamilton fanfic #hamilton an american musical #hamilton #daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed #diggs #hamilton x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[indietravelerchick-blog]

Confessions of a past bachelorette

     I was the fish that could not get hooked. I was a serial dater, heartbreaker, bachelorette or whatever you want to call it. Was I a whore? Slut? Please, I have more class.  

 The story begins at age 18. I dated Duncan. He lived in the moment but couldn’t be serious or get his shit together to save his life. The first time he met my parents, he asked if he could do his laundry at their house. He lived in a shitty apartment in Old Louisville with his two cats. I remember his cats were panting all the time because the A/C was crap. One time, we visited this hippy couple in their thirties. They let their dog shit in the yard and they used the shit as fertilizer. Their garden was majestic. They had a tree with full grown green apples. They grew chili peppers and all types of vegetables. The couple said, “Yeah, we need help with our garden.” I jumped in to volunteer. Duncan just wanted the vegetables. He didn’t care about anything else. The next day he says, “Why did you do that? I’m pulling weeds and breaking a sweat like a Mexican.” He forgot all about it once the hippies cooked breakfast for us. Duncan would often go to the mall and take advantage of the free appetizers in the food court and pass it off as a meal.  Duncan was also the type that would go to his friends apartment with the pool and pass it off like he lived there. He would say, “They’ll never notice. Just say we live in apartment ABC.” Some would describe him as a freeloader. I describe him as a guy in his early 20′s on the struggle bus. Duncan was hilarious. There were good times but was this it for me? Nah.

     Next was Phi. My family adored him. Phi was the first person I dated outside of my race. He wouldn’t be the last. He was a Vietnamese immigrant. He came to this country at 15, became fluent in English and went to UofL for Speed School of Engineering. He treated me right and was a great guy but there was a problem. Phi was Catholic. My stubborn ass wasn’t. My mom knew I would never convert. We had arguments over religion. My family grieved him more then I did. Bye Phi. 

     Then there was James. James and I would often eat wings and beer with his parents and debate over politics. His dad was an Irish American trucker who used to be in the Marines. His mom was Japanese. They would have, I kid you not...10 drinks in one setting and gulp it down like it was nothing. They didn’t even act tipsy. There was no effect. I enjoyed my life with James. I thought...keyword, “thought” he was the one. I loved him. We went to church. We went to the gym. We had a routine. However, I had crippling social anxiety. He couldn’t handle it. He was my only social outlet. I depended on him for going out and having fun. That’s not a healthy relationship. That’s called, codependent. We had petty arguments and then he started talking to other women online. Guess you could say, shit hit the fan. Could he have at least found a woman who had a full set of teeth? Was he that desperate for a fuck? If you are a dad, James is the guy whose ass you’d want to kick. After everything calmed down, there was no bad blood. James admitted he wanted no commitment and I wanted more out of life then weekly wing and beer sessions.

Later on, I had a string of flings. Devlon. Derek. David. There seems to be a  pattern here...

     Cue in, Reese. The dynamic between Reese and I was similar to that of my grandparents. My grandmother had a short fuse, was dominant and my grandpa put up with it. Reese was extremely reserved, shy and inhibited. I clearly was not. I was impatient, impulsive with a fire in my belly. I enjoyed getting Reese out of his comfort zone. I liked taking him to new places. He never had pho. He’d never been to DC. I liked taking charge. I liked making the decisions but if he didn’t feel comfortable, I wasn’t understanding. I wasn’t accepting. I continued to grow and get out of my shell. I graduated college, got my own apartment and held a job. Reese wasn’t on the same page. What the fuck? When was he going to move out? Reese wanted to go to medical school. All I could think about was when he would get his shit together. I was a selfish bitch. I cussed at him when he didn’t deserve it out of frustration. I kicked him out of my apartment a million times. He was fiercely loyal just like my grandpa was loyal to my grandma no matter how many times she treated him like shit. I didn’t like who I was with him and I didn’t want to repeat that dynamic. Reese loved me unconditionally. I had conditions. If he could just improve on X, then I would be happy. He never felt good enough. He could never reach high enough. I didn’t understand why I wanted to pursue other people when I had a perfectly good guy? What the fuck was wrong with me? I was the asshole. We weren’t on the same wavelength. I wasn’t good for him and he wasn’t right for me.

After being completely frustrated and exhausted, I told myself, “Fuck this. I’m done.” I swore off dating. I was content with just having a good time. At a later time, an old friend invited me to Play. For those who are unfamiliar, Play is a trendy LGBT drag queen club. I thought, what the hell? I am free to do whatever I want. It’s a Saturday night. Let’s go. I’m enjoying my time at Play when my friend says her mom’s COPD was acting up so they had to leave early. I decide to order a drink for myself and go out on the deck. As I walk to the deck, I see out of the corner of my eye, this sophisticated, attractive man casually standing a few feet away away from me. He’s leaning on the deck, sipping on his beer, and we glance back and forth at each other. He looks like the type of guy you would see in a hallmark card OR movie, your pick. His skin was olive complexion, had thick curly black hair, and he had the most perfect muscle tone. He was confident. His style was classy yet modern. He had this essence and energy about him that was out of this world. He was sophisticated. His attitude was a mix of smooth Frank Sinatra while also tough, sarcastic Sylvester Stallone. Honestly, I could just eat him up. Unbeknownst to him, I’m having this inner battle of, “I told myself that I would be single. Dammit, look at him. I can’t go with out talking to him.” 5 minutes of overthinking pass by. “Okay. Who is going to make the first move?” After what feels like an eternity of stealing glances,  I take the leap of “fuck it” and go up to him. I think to myself, “What’s the worse that can happen? I make a total jackass of myself and never see him again. Let’s go for it.” I ask him if it’s his first time at Play and we hit it off like we’ve known each other our whole lives. 

What started off as light banter turns into talking for 5 hours. I didn’t make it home until 5:30 am. He fascinated me. I had to see him the next day, and the next. We spend each day craving more. As I get to know him, he tells me all the things that would have been deal-breakers for me in the past. He’s 50. He’s Catholic. He’s divorced. Yet I could give a single fuck. Family and friends were concerned. My mom reacted, “He’s 50!? What the fuck, Melissa?” and I remark, “Trust me. He sure don’t look it.” My friends thought, “What if he’s controlling you?” I snap back, “Do you not know me by now?” The people who were once able to dissuade me did not know what to do with me. Hell, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Everyone thought I had lost my damn mind.

I was no longer in control like I was once. I could no longer walk away. I could no longer say, “Fuck it” or “Next.” He wasn’t an option but a necessity. He turned my world upside down and changed everything about my life. He made me realized what was missing. He lives in the moment. He has wit and spunk. He’s in an established career yet maintains the youth and energy of a young 20-something. He’s not jaded by life. He takes life by the horns literally...(he got chased by a bull in Spain). I don’t feel held back like I did in the past or make up excuses on why things should end because I know nothing can hold me back from him. If he was in the same exact circumstances, and it’s him, my mindset would be, I have to have him. Nothing can top him. 

A similar story happened to a young bachelor man who had a string of ex-girlfriends who could never catch his interest---who could never quite keep him. He was that bachelor. He was that person. He never thought he would want a woman living with him. Why would he want that if he could bring a different one home every night? He never thought he would bring a girl down to meet his mom. Are you nuts?! No one is worthy enough. He never thought he would get down on one knee again after the hell he went through. Why take the risk when he has a great life? He thought this way until we found each other and we’ve been together ever since.

Guess we’re hooked for life.

I love you mi amor.

[noxstellacaelum]

Filtering Female Characters Through the Male Gaze

Female characters filtered through the male gaze:  A (way) too long post about why we need a more diverse and inclusive approach to staffing showrunners, writers, directors, crew – heck, all roles -- in TV and movies.  

Yes, I know I am not the first person here on this.  

And note that while I have included a few tags b/c I talk about my frustration with Shadowhunters, Veronica Mars, the Irishman, Richard Jewell, and a few other recent shows/movies, I don’t get to this stuff until the very end,  I appreciate that fans may not want to wade through the entire essay, which (again), is a bit of personal catharsis.

I recently had a random one-off exchange with a TV writer on twitter.  The writer said that she had enjoyed the movie Bombshell much more than its Rotten Tomatoes rating would have suggested.  She wondered if the disconnect between her experience/perception of the movie and that of mainstream reviewers might have been shaped by gender: Specifically, she observed that Bombshell is a movie about women, but most reviewers are male.  

I have complicated feelings about Bombshell.  On one hand, yes, there was and is a toxic culture at Fox News.  Yes, Gretchen Carlson and Megyn Kelly were victims of that toxic culture.  But no, these women were not mere bystanders:  They traded in the racism, misogyny, and xenophobia (for starters) that still characterize Fox News today.  Why should these wealthy, privileged white women – both of whom spent many years as willing foot soldiers in the Fox News army -- get a glossy, Hollywood-approved redemption/vindication arc?  On the other hand, I am glad that the movie makers made a film about sexual harassment, and that the movie presented Kelly, in particular, as an at least somewhat complicated character.  This would not be the first time that a movie about women – especially complicated, and not always likeable women – has proven to be polarizing.

My ambivalence about Bombshell notwithstanding, the writer with whom I exchanged tweets is (not surprisingly, since she is in the industry and I am not) on to something when it comes to gender, character development and critical reception. It’s not just that Bombshell was about women, but reviewed largely by men; it’s that stories about female characters (real or fictional) often are filtered through the male gaze in Hollywood:  On many projects – even those focused on female characters – creators/ head writers are male, directors are male, showrunners are male, and producers are male.  This matters, because preferencing the male gaze impacts what stories about women get told, who gets to tell them, and how these stories are received inside and outside Hollywood.  

First, though, the caveats. I do not mean to suggest that men can never tell great stories about women.  Of course they can.   I also don’t mean to suggest that being female exempts creators, writers, directors, showrunners, etc. from sexism or misogyny (or any other forms of bigotry, as my discussion of Bombshell suggests).   There are plenty of women who prop up the patriarchy.  Rebecca Traister’s work speaks to this issue, as does the work of Cornell philosopher Kate Manne.  There is an important literature on the concept of misogynoir (misogyny directed at black women, involving both gender and race), a term coined by black queer feminist Moya Bailey, as well.  Intersectionality matters in understanding what stories are told, who gets to speak, and how stories are received in and outside Hollywood.  I also don’t mean to suggest that there are no powerful women in Hollywood.   Shonda Rhimes; Ava DuVernay, Reese Witherspoon (increasingly, given her role as a producer of projects like Big Little Lies), Greta Gerwig’s work in Lady Bird and Little Women, and others come to mind.  As I am not in the entertainment industry, I am sure others could put together a far more complete and accurate list of female Hollywood power brokers.  And, finally, I appreciate that Hollywood is a business, and people fund and make movies that they think their target audiences want to see.  So long as young, male viewers are a coveted demographic, we are going to see projects with women who appeal to this demographic onscreen.

Given these caveats, why do I think that the filtering of female characters through the male gaze is an issue? For me, it has to do with a project’s “center of gravity” -- that place, at the core of the project’s storytelling, where the characters’ agency and autonomy comes from.  It’s where I look to understand the characters’ choices and their narrative arcs.  When a character’s center of gravity is missing or unstable or unreliable, the character’s choices don’t make sense, and their narrative arc lacks emotional logic. Center of gravity is not about whether a character is likeable.  It’s about whether a character – and the project’s overall storytelling and narrative voice – make sense.  

When female characters are filtered through a male gaze, a project’s center of gravity can shift, even if unintentionally, away from the characters’ agency and point of view:  So, instead of charting her own course through a story, a female character starts to become defined by her proximity to other characters and stories.  She becomes half of a “ship” . . . or a driver of other characters’ growth (often through victimization, suffering, or self-sacrifice) . . . or mostly an object of sexual desire (whether requited or not).   Eventually, she can lose her voice entirely.  When that happens, instead of a “living, breathing” (yes, fictional, I know) character, we are left with a mirror/ mouthpiece who advances the plot, and the stories, of everyone else.

What are some recent examples of this? The two that I have mentioned recently here are Shadowhunters and Veronica Mars S4.  

- With SHTV, I will always wonder what might have been if the show – which is based on books written by a woman, intentionally as a “girl power” story – had female showrunners. Would an empowered female showrunner have left Clary, THE PROTAGONIST OF A 6 BOOK SERIES – alone on an NYC street in a skimpy party dress, in November, with no money, no ID, no mother, no father figure and no love of her life, stripped of her memories, her magic, and chosen vocation, as punishment, after she saved the world?  Would a female showrunner have sidelined Clary’s love Jace, and left him grieving and suicidal, while his family lived their best lives and told him to move on?  Would a female showrunner have said, in press coverage of the series finale, that the future of the Clary and Jace characters was a matter for fan fiction?  After spending precious time in the series finale wrapping up narrative arcs for non-canon and/or ancillary characters.  And to my twitter correspondent’s point, I guess I am not surprised that mainstream entertainment media outlets didn’t call out the showrunners’ mistreatment of Clary, and by extension, Jace, and the obliteration of their narrative arcs -- and yes, I am looking at you, Andy Swift of TV line (who called the above-mentioned memory wipe “actually perfect”).

- Likewise, with Veronica Mars, would a more diverse and inclusive writers room have made S4 Veronica less insightful and less competent than her high school self, or quite so riven with self-loathing, or quite so careless and cruel with the people in her life who love her?  Would a more inclusive creative team have made S4 Veronica less aware of the class and race dynamics of Neptune, yet more casually racist, in her mid-30s, than she was in high school?

- There are so many other examples from 2019.  Clint Eastwood falsely suggesting that a female reporter (who is now deceased and thus unable to defend herself) traded sex for tips from an FBI agent in Richard Jewell. Game of Thrones treatment/resolution of the Ceresi and Daenerys characters – where to even start.  Martin Scorsese’s decision to give Oscar winner Anna Paquin’s character a total of 7 lines in the 3-plus hour movie the Irishman.

- And, in real life, I wonder whether a Hollywood that empowered and supported female creators would make sure that people like Mira Sorvino and Annabella Sciorra got a bunch of work while also making sure that Harvey Weinstein never again is in a position of power or influence.   Same with female comics targeted by Louis C.K. Matt Lauer, Charlie Rose … the list is long, and Kate Manne’s work on what she calls “himpathy” is useful here.

To be clear, I am not saying that stories involving “ships” of whatever flavor, stories of suffering and self-sacrifice, and stories of finding (or losing) intimate relationships are “bad” or “wrong” or inherently exploitive of female characters.  I don’t think that at all.  I also don’t think that female characters have to be perfectly well-adjusted, virtuous, or free from bias, or that they should never be make bad choices or mistakes.  I want female characters who are flawed, nuanced.  I don’t mind lives that are messy, or romantic entanglements that are complicated.  Finally, I don’t think that that faulty, reductive, or unfair portrayals of female characters is a new thing.  Mary Magdalene was almost certainly not a prostitute, after all.  And classicist Emily Wilson – the first woman to translate the Odyssey into English – has brought a hugely important perspective (including an awareness of how gender matters in translation) and voice to the translation and study of canonical characters and works.

At the end of the day, I just want female characters to be able to speak with their own voices, from their perspectives.  I want them to have their own, chosen, narrative arcs.  I want them to speak, act, see, and feel as autonomous individuals, with agency, and not just in reference to others.  And, I think that more a more diverse and inclusive approach to staffing writers rooms and in choosing show runners, directors, and key positions in storytelling would help.  

#shtv #veronica mars #clary fairchild #clary #jace #clace

[throwing-summers-at-the-walls]

Hello half valid anon here (i like my nickname 😂). I got through all your fics and they were all great. Right now im just reading a lot of poi fanfics and watch fanvids cause i can't accept that the series is over 😂 --- i know what you mean about fics affecting you negatively. I had this with 13rw (the Show and some fics) everything was so dark and hopeless that i had to stop watching it. I also love to seek out fics where someone is hurt so i can feel my pain through the characters (1)

But i try to read only fics with lots of comfort so it kinda feels like i get comforted as well (dont know if that makes sense). If it makes you uncomfortable or if its unhealthy for you to write about this i completely understand and i dont mean to come of as pushing you to write. I just hope whatever you do will be the right decision for you! As for you feeling suicidal im sorry to hear that. Let me know if there is ever anything i can do to help! I wish i could say sth more comforting but Im not super good with words :( i just hope you have people in your life that support you! 💛

maybe root will grow on you too? Or maybe you can skip her scenes and enjoy John, Harold and most importanly Bear! 😂 Yeah Shaw definately looks really good. She is a bit like Reese minus the caring. At first it seems she doesnt care about anything at all but thats not exactly the Case. There was an episode with Shaw and a little girl (3x5) and i really loved it (have you seen that one?).

I really think Shaw would grow on you (especially since in the beginning she does a lot with John) but then again a lot of her later scenes include Root so im not sure. Yes i love that there were never any romantic undertones with her and John!!

yeah the core four were great. I was so sad when Carter died! :(

i guess everyone sees chemistry different, i think Shoot and Rinch post have great chemistry ☺️

as for John being good with people: YES!! he is always so compassionate and such a great listener as well. I especially like him with children. John and the baby were so cute or John with the boy who offered to pay for him. John + Kids was always a great combination and i wished we would have seen it more often. Also regarding children we did we never got to see a John Taylor scene after Carters death? I needed that!

yes John the badass is also amazing! His character has so many different sides and i love him so much!!

i think Grace Harold was really cute but i dont really see a future for them, i mean he lied to her for so long! but then again they really loved each other so idk maybe they work it out. Im also not into John/Harold/Grace but like you said good for the people who like the ship :)

John and Zoe were great! i wish Zoe would have appeared more often!

I have so many things to say about John and the boring therapist but i think i better not say them :D i wish i could just erase their relationship from my mind!

of course he didnt die! i didnt see a dead body so i refuse to believe he is dead! i also just wanted them to be happy. what kind of an ending is it to let the main character die? i refuse to accept this! -- thank you for the rec i will check it out :) while i do like fluff i mostly read h/c (with the focus on the comfort) cause i just want John to get his much needed comfort :D -- i have no idea where season 1 is supposed to be boring. but idc the people can live with their wrong opinions :D

(today: tumblr user nourann3 discovers the option to indent text after almost 5 years on tumblr...)

Hiii !! It is a very valid nickname 😂 That's nice !! Hmu if you want more recs ! Lol same honestly, I can't believe it's been 4 years since the show ended ! I can give you a link to my poi/Rinch fanvids playlist if you're interested 👀

Oh boi 13rw is so cursed, can't believe I watched all of the 1st season 😬 I remember being afraid of the suicide scene making me uncomfortable but it was so cringe, unrealistic and just bad that I wasn't even that uncomfortable, I cringed when she cut her arms but that's it.

Yeah big mood I project a lot on comfort fics as well. For suicide fics, I think it also depends on how the fics adress the subject. It's something that is complicated to write. If I read a suicide fic with no recovery I'm gonna project but feel like shit. But with recovery, I can project into the recovery as well so it's better ! I read a really good ace attorney fic showing Miles recovering after a suicide attempt, it was thoughtful and didn't fall into the pitfalls of magical super fast recovery/love heals everything, and some lines stuck with me, it was really good and comforting. But yeah if it's just a suicide/suicide attempt then I don't think it's good for me (but sometimes I still read it bc I'm a Dumb Bitch).

Dw you didn't come off as pushing 💜 I'll see how I feel about continuing it or not. I have to figure out if writing about suicide is positive or negative for me 🤔 I mean I'm not portraying John's suicidal crisis as a positive thing, and he reaches out to Harold, and considers he might get better so I don't think it's bad for me ? Another problem is that I have a tendency to drop my wips to write a new shiny idea I get, and then I never finish anything gkgkffjfjf I dropped the suicide fic for the body horror fic which I dropped for the time loop fic, and there's also the hanahaki fic I started last year but I haven't touched in months, plus a bunch of random shit floating around OneDrive lmao someone stop me

What helps the most is venting, just getting that shit out is helping y'know. I appreciate your support ♥️ at least it's not as bad as it used to be

I doubt Root will grow on me, catch me watching her scenes at 1.5 speed lmao, also yes you bet I'll enjoy watching them !!

Yes I remember that ep ! Iirc the little girl tells Shaw she has feelings but the volume is lower than in other people or smth along those lines ?

I hope she'll grow on me bc she seems cool. I remember I was a bit afraid of her just becoming a sort of hollow copy of John, like "look we added another badass to the show". Seems to be more than that though ! Also I'm curious about their mayhem twins dynamic. But yeah if she has a lot of scenes with Root idk how much it'll annoy me

I feel like I wouldn't be able to get the Shoot chemistry bc I'm too biased against Root lol

Ikr the crossing hurt me so much. But thinking about it takes me back to my careese days and my first fics lol. I feel like the death of one of the core four + the abandonment of the library really alienated me from the show (did I already say that before ?). And here I'm gonna shamelessly derail from Carter to the library bc boiii do I have a lot of feelings about the library !! And you're here, talking about poi, so you're the perfect subject to throw these feelings at. This post really says what I feel about it (I'll put the link at the end as well if you wanna read it after you're done with this l o n g reply). It was in a way its own character and its forced abandonment/destruction really hit me (fucked me up when they broke that glass board). It says something that it's one of the few things I remember from S3 along with Carter's death and 4C. I loved it a lot, it was a cornerstone of the show. It was a safe place, a home for Harold and John (and Bear !). I love when they're together in there, I love this cracked glass board, this yellow stained glass in the windows !!! (at least I assume it's stained glass ?), these lights, Bear's cushion, the whole cozy/safe/isolated feelings, just absolutely everything. And yeah later they have the subway, idk when it's introduced I don't remember if it's early enough for me to have watched it. And maybe it's nice, I can't judge rn. But it's like trying to give me a new MC after a MCD, make him as nice as you want I'll be clutching the previous MC until I die. Gkfkfkff I went overboard and off topic but I just love the library ok

Ikr I love how he's badass but also gentle and understanding and nice to people ! I love him !!! Yeah wolf and cub is really good, also I love when John smiles to Darren at the end !! I use this moment as my pfp bc I love it so much. He's just so cute ! I wish he smiled more (did we ever hear him laugh in the entirety of the show ?). Baby blue is so great, Harold and him are such a married couple in this ep ! Yeah same more content with John and children would have been nice.

I never thought about how much we needed a John Taylor scene but yes !! We were robbed :((((

Speaking of John being a cool badass. Here's a badass John vid rec it's super good

Yeah they were cute in the past. I think it's good he went back to her bc it gives closure to both of them. But I don't see their relationship working again. She grieved, probably started to move on after all these years and knowing he lied all this time probably won't make her want to go back with him. I've never been in love so what do I know lol, but were I her I probably wouldn't want to go back with him and I'd just be happy knowing he's alive after all.

Same I need more Zoe (also she's hot)

Lmao let's just forget about that weird relationship shall we

Aren't we all the same, firmly believing he's alive and happy out there ! It was foreshadowed since the first ep and it made sense but do I care ? No, fuck that shit John is very much alive

You're welcome ! John needs all the comfort and the love !!! I think I have a preference for fluff bc he gets hurt enough in the show lol

Indeed they can, veryyy far away from us

Sry if this is shit I have like half a functioning braincell today

The post abt home bases I mentioned

#half valid anon #look you have your own tag #person of interest #tw suicide #i thought I was done but then i got feelings abt the library

[copperbora]

A Lesson in Layering: Suffering Scotland’s Spite

Also called ‘that time I was an idiot and got drenched hiking beside bonny Loch Lomond.’ (Or: ‘A Story about Hypothermia.’)

Layering: it’s an art form, which I always think that I am starting to get somewhat good at until I fail spectacularly. The first time this happened, I contracted hypothermia, but thanks to the (mostly) proper action which I took, I didn’t die from my mistake. On this glorious day in Scotland, trekking the beautiful West Highland Way, I made a mistake which could have killed me.

What is ‘layering,’ you non-hikers/outdoorsy people ask? It’s the art of dressing in layers according to circumstances of weather and temperature. The idea is to wear just the right clothing for the current situation which you exist in so that you are neither too hot nor too cold so that you not only stay happy, but you don’t die because your body is too cold (hypothermia) or too hot (hyperthermia/heat stroke.) Again, both conditions can kill you, so it’s important to take care of yourself and get your layering right if you’re in the backcountry where you may be far from help should something go wrong. 

Intimidated? The main rules of layering for outdoorsy pursuits are simple - NEVER wear cotton (once cotton is wet it stays wet - Search and Rescue calls it ‘the death cloth’ and there’s a saying ‘cotton kills’ for a reason - it loses 95% of its insulating value when wet, at which point it also conducts crucial body heat away from you) and choose layers which either dry quickly (such as synthetic fibres like polyester,) or retain their thermal properties when wet (i.e. merino wool.) Wet clothing chills your skin, making you cold - in fact, a primary goal of layering is to avoid sweating, since sweat, like any other liquid when chilled, can cause your internal body temperature to drop, thus giving you hypothermia. And don’t think you’re safe just because of summer as more people fall prey to exposure in summertime than in winter because of a lack of preparedness.

And don’t ever get cocky - for example, just because I have a lifetime of backcountry experience, it doesn’t mean that I am safe from mistakes. Don’t ever dare believe that you’re invincible from peril just because of experience, no matter how impressive, because Mother Nature likes to reward such bravado with hard knocks - or death.

My layering on a day when I used my brain - note the saturated face fabric of my Gore-Tex waterproof shell and my sopping wet hair - it was very wet out! I was significantly less clever on the day of my mishap.

Imagine the lush green forests of Loch Lomond - actually, don’t, here’s a picture to set the scene, from the day I screwed up:

Just a nice cruise along the quiet northern end of Loch Lomond. 

It had been sort of spritzing all day and the temperature was mild. Fellow hikers all claimed that it was going to really rain at some point, but none of them could agree about what time that it would. With how every other spritz of rain had passed, I turned decidedly derisive of the truth of any forecast. Scotland had already proved that it did whatever the hell it pleased in terms of weather, so I was just going with the flow, but it was about to prove its derision even more. It was on this day that I learned: Scotland doesn’t care about what the weatherman has to say, but occasionally, it does (sort of) do what is predicted, but only on its own terms. 

So, it had basically been overcast all day and it didn’t really look like it was going to do much more, despite the small instances of spritzing. I was focused on slaying kilometres and getting to a certain spot on my map, a hill called Cnap Mor, which lays at the very end of Loch Lomond. I didn’t want to waste time by layering up - and this, folks, could be a fatal mistake. It’s always worth your time to take time layering up or down - better to lose a bit of time putting your pack cover on than have wet gear. But, of course, I was trying to slay kilometres, right? I had a long way to go - I was on Day 3, and I needed to get my butt to Fort William, which was still a vast number of kilometres away.

Definitely the right kind of weather for incomplete rain gear. Definitely.

It was near Ardleish, at the top tip of Loch Lomond that I began to fail myself. Here, on the last shore of the loch on the trail the wind started gusting and the rain started pouring. I donned my Gore-Tex jacket and put on my pack cover; believing that the rain would pass, I didn’t don my rain pants or gaiters, and this is where I fucked up. I thought about it, considered it, then didn’t do it.

I’m very conscious that I could have died because of this slip up. I’m very lucky that I was in Scotland, and not some place like the Rockies, where the temperature would have dropped much lower. Scotland’s temps in April were wonderfully mild - ranging most of the trip around 11 °C - but back in the Canadian Rockies where I most often hike, temperatures regularly drop below freezing at night, even in the heat of summer. Even so, I still could have died in Scotland’s mild weather - most people who meet their maker because of hypothermia do it in mild temperatures which are well above freezing, just like what I experienced that evening in beside Loch Lomond.

Not seen: the wind blasting in my face. And the sheep.

So, like an idiot, I hiked on, wanting to slay more kilometres. I didn’t understand that I should have stopped there - it would have been a good place to camp. I remember thinking all day as well as the one before how nice it would be to maybe camp beside the loch, and this would have been the smart thing, but nope, I decided to hike on. 

Very quickly, within the hour, I realized that this was a bad idea, but I refused to turn back, wanting to destroy more distance. Water began running over the trail and I started consciously hunting for a place to stop for the night, but there weren’t any good campsites to be found. I dismissed the one likely candidate I found (while still not donning rain pants or gaiters,) due to fears of nearby widowmakers (dead trees or ones looking likely to fall,) which was probably a wise decision, but I was already making a really bad one. So, I hiked.

And so the trail slowly became a shallow river.

And hiked. The day grew old, but I couldn’t find a place to stop and there were no other hikers left on the trail, the Way completely deserted apart from me. I prospected a few more maybe camping stops, but I was getting very tired, I was soaked to the bone, and the only thing keeping me warm was my continued movement. The water running over the trail was three centimetres deep; it was so wet that even my waterproof socks were saturated - something which wouldn’t have happened had I been wearing my rain pants and gaiters. Everything I was wearing was soaked.

The view of tiny Dubh Lochan from the hillside where I eventually managed to make camp. It was the flattest and driest piece of ground which I could find, which wasn’t saying much. Everywhere else the ground was soaked, and it was soaked there too.

Eventually, I thought that I saw a faint trail leading up from the Way and I clambered up the hillside where I found a somewhat flat piece of ground which was to be my sanctuary. I set my tent up in the pouring rain then clambered inside with my Packtowel to mop it dry of the literal puddles which had gathered inside of it during its pitching. Thankfully, my synthetic sleeping bag was fine, as was my Neoair Xlite mat - so were both of my heavier midlayers and my hiking dress. I slowly peeled off my soaked clothes, blessing the fact that the temperature was actually warm enough for me not to instantly freeze despite being in a state of undress, and snuggled into my sleeping bag.

Then, to add insult to injury, my matches and piezo igniter were also soaked, so I couldn’t cook in my tent’s vestibule as I had planned. A hot meal would have been just the thing after so much suffering, but alas, it was not to be. I ate Cliff Bars and hard cheese for dinner instead, with some mini Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for dessert. I made sure that I ate at least five hundred calories, then, as my brain slowly relaxed out of survival mode and I finally fully confirmed that I was safe from hypothermia, my body dry and warm again, I finally let myself sleep.

Scotland’s creeks and rivers are very well fed.

The next morning, all my clothing which I had worn the day before was still extremely wet. Thus, I donned what would become my leg wear for the entire rest of the trail - my rain pants and gaiters. I never again hiked without them - in this environment, it just wasn’t worth it to have another mishap. That night I intelligently took a hostel room in Tyndrum to dry out my gear and I continued the trail as a much smarter person. I’d learned from my mistake, and I never underestimated Scotland again - from then on, I changed my layering as needed. I eventually just started keeping my Gore-Tex jacket around my waist rather than bothering removing my pack to stow it when I didn’t need it (there were precious few good places on trail to do this,) and I learned how to change my upper layers without taking off my backpack at all. Thus, I kept my layering system quick, and I didn’t get soaked again. I almost never removed my pack cover; I kept myself and my gear dry.

Properly layered and comfortable on the second to last day, at the windy top of the Devil’s Staircase between Glencoe and Kinlochleven.

That night by Dubh Lochan, had I not had a dry shelter, sleeping bag and midlayers the night before, hypothermia could have taken me out - and the most important thing you need to know about hypothermia is that it’s a quiet killer. As your core body temperature drops, your body begins to shiver as it desperately tries to bring its temperature back up - but if your temperature continues to plunge, you eventually stop shivering, stop talking (if you can’t speak it is seriously bad news,) and eventually... you just fall asleep - and without intervention, you never get back up. The human body is incapable of tolerating temperature fluctuations of more than a few degrees, so once its internal temperature wavers, things can go south pretty fast.

The moral of the story - layer your clothing, follow your instincts (I repeatedly thought that I should layer up but didn’t,) and change your layers according to circumstance. I failed to layer up and I paid the price - literally - since my mistake necessitated my unplanned stop in Tyndrum to dry my gear so that I could continue my hike. But, an unplanned stop in Tyndrum was much superior to my unplanned demise (and I ended up eating something other than dehydrated hiker chow for supper in Tyndrum at its divine Real Food Cafe, plus I bought a small delicious hoard of Snickers and Scottish chocolate bars. I also bought new socks, which I promptly got soaked within ten minutes the next day. I digress.)

My sanctuary in Tyndrum; I had this entire room all to myself - it was wondrous! (Not seen: my gear spread absolutely everywhere.)

Thank you for teaching me an apparently much needed lesson about layering, Scotland.

#Scotland #hiking #inclement weather #rain #wind #hike #trek #the west highland way #west highland way #west highlands #Scottish Highlands #WHW #trekking #thruhiking #thruhike #hypothermia #layering #lesson in layering

[investmart007]

FAYETTEVILLE, N.C. | North Carolina residents consider fleeing as rivers rise

New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/fayetteville-n-c-north-carolina-residents-consider-fleeing-as-rivers-rise/171774/

FAYETTEVILLE, N.C. | North Carolina residents consider fleeing as rivers rise

FAYETTEVILLE, N.C. — The river seethed a quarter-mile away, bulging from its banks, so the patrol cars circled the neighborhood three times.

“Get out now,” a voice boomed from a bullhorn. “This is an emergency.” Waheeda Reese and her 14-year-old daughter, Anissa, were inside

watching news reports about drowned towns all over the state and rain that hadn’t yet stopped.

“All that water is going to come this way,” Anissa said, trying to convince her mother it was time to leave. The city had taped a mandatory evacuation notice to their front door, and a friend in the fire department had called to warn: “I don’t want to have to come pick you up in a boat.”

They still had 22 hours until a deadline to go, and Waheeda wanted to stay. She pointed out the window and said, wishfully, “Look, I think the rain’s letting up.”

As the days drag on, Hurricane Florence has taken this deceptive turn: The violent winds that rattled shingles off houses and tore down trees have subsided, and the pounding rain has eased, lulling many in the storm’s path into believing they’ve already weathered the worst of it — even as rivers quietly churn and continue to rise.

The storm has claimed at least 25 lives as of Monday evening and an untold number of homes on its slow march across North Carolina, inundating city after city : Wilmington, New Bern, Lumberton. Now authorities are warning that by the time the Cape Fear River in Cumberland County crests Tuesday at 62 feet (19 meters) — 27 feet (8 meters) over its flood stage — it will threaten to swamp anything within a mile on either side of it. Its tributary, the Little River, is expected to flood, too.

More than 7,000 people were ordered to evacuate by Sunday afternoon. But many, weary of a storm that’s lingered on and on, did their own rough calculus of the odds and decided to stay.

As the Cape Fear River swelled, rescue teams trudged along its banks, pleading with people to get out of its way. Police officers went door to door. The mayor of Fayetteville presented the problem in the starkest of terms: Evacuate or notify your legal next of kin.

Military trucks in rural corners of the county barreled down dirt roads quickly becoming mud pits. “Please go,” soldiers asked stubborn residents along the massive river that curls downstream through small towns, farms and rural mobile home parks and into the city of Fayetteville, where the Reeses live in a subdivision that butts up against the bank.

Anissa’s friend down the street was evacuating with his family and knocked on her door, begging her and her mother to come. The Reeses had packed their things just in case, tucking important documents in a water-tight bag. They stacked chairs on top of tables and moved all the family photos upstairs. Then they waited to see what would happen.

A few miles away, a high-water rescue team comprising two dozen soldiers from Fort Bragg rested on cots in an arena — preparing for water to surge into neighborhoods and send residents climbing out windows and onto rooftops, a familiar scene since Florence made landfall Friday morning.

“I want to make sure those citizens realize the decisions they’re making,” said Lt. John Savage, who commands the team that knocked on doors to talk with those staying behind. “We have thorough conversations with them to let them know the gravity of the situation they’re in.”

Over the weekend, a military truck rolled down the mucky lane to Kevin Blades’ house 20 miles (32 kilometers) upstream from Fayetteville, near where the Cape Fear and Little rivers meet. Savage said there is particular concern about this area. Six horses were drinking from floodwater already pooling on the front lawn.

Power had been out for days. The dirt road to the house was so soggy, the truck got stuck in the mud and Blades and a neighbor had to tow it out.

Blades informed the soldiers he planned to stay anyway and not to worry because he had an escape plan in mind. “If I have to,” he said, “I’ll ride the horses out of here.”

The soldiers left, the Blades played cards, the rain poured on, and the river rose.

Down the road, in the tiny town of Linden, Mayor Marie Butler woke up Sunday morning and asked her son to drive her to look at the Little River. She’d encouraged her residents to leave, but just about everyone she knows decided to stay, so she felt like she had to stay, too — to sound the alarm if the river gets close to spilling over. “It didn’t look that bad,” she said.

“It’s going to get bad,” her son, Thurman Jackson, replied. “There’s a lot of water coming down that river.”

“I’m just praying that the Lord turns it around,” Butler said, looking up at the sky.

From Linden, the Little River ribbons west to a town called Spring Lake, where authorities shut down already-flooded roads and some who’d stayed put started to worry.

Mary Ingram stood outside a convenience store, open only thanks to a generator. She lives with her mother and 1-year-old son two blocks outside of the mandatory evacuation area, so she thought they’d be safe. Then it hit her: “My mom can’t swim. So if it does flood, I can’t save both her and the baby.” She decided to stay, nonetheless.

In the tiny hamlet of Wade, population around 570, Athena Moore has been waiting out Florence in her mobile home a quarter mile (half a kilometer) from the Cape Fear River. Many of her neighbors cleared out, but she’s hosting two friends who fled from the coast as the hurricane roared ashore only to find themselves now in a flood zone. They’re all planning to stay, because they don’t have anywhere else to go.

Back in Fayetteville, as downtown streets started flooding Sunday, Waheeda Reese finally decided it was time to pack the car and get her daughter out.

“So would you be offended if I just dropped you off and came back to stay here?” she asked Anissa.

“Kind of,” her daughter said. “Why?”

“Because you need to be safe, too.”

By CLAIRE GALOFARO, Associated Press

#claire galofaro #convince #Fire Department #fleeing #front door #neighborhood #river seethed #rivers rise #TodayNews #voice boomed

[movietvtechgeeks]

Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/whole-food-versions-decadent-popular-halloween-candy-treats/

Whole food versions of decadent popular Halloween candy treats

Every year, Halloween parties see lots of candy corn, punch bowls and bobbing for apples. Miniature candy bars are all the rage with homeowners purchasing treats for the door to door trick-or-treaters. According to the product review website Influenster, each different state in the US has a Halloween candy that is more popular than all the rest. Check out a few of the candies and states on that list.

Alaska and Illinois – Snickers

Colorado and Ohio – Milky Way

Connecticut and Rhode Island – Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

Oregon, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, and Wyoming – Candy Corn

Looking at that list, and thinking about your own favorite Halloween candy, you may be worrying that it will be tough to come up with whole food substitutions for those and other popular sugar-filled and preservative-rich Halloween treats. Here are a few ideas of how you can create whole food alternatives to the teeth-decaying, obesity-promoting, unhealthy snacks and treats that are so popular every October 31. Replace Bobbing for Apples with ... Nothing! Bobbing for apples is a Halloween mainstay. A dozen or so apples are placed in a large bucket or basin filled with water. The idea is to bite into an apple without using your hands, by dunking your head down into the apple-bobbing water. Since apples are perfectly healthy whole foods, there is nothing to replace here. Get some organic apples and bob away! Replace Candy Corn with ... whole Food Candy Corn Cookies Healthy Whole food-friendly cookies can be made using some combination of coconut flour, almond flour, natural nut butter, eggs, mashed bananas, puréed pumpkin, raw honey, organic maple syrup, applesauce and other healthy, unprocessed ingredients. You can use Halloween cookie cutters to make cookies in shapes of witches, goblins, pumpkins, bats, and monsters. The three iconic colors of candy corn are white, orange and yellow. You can make a healthy whole food orange glaze by combining molasses or raw honey with the juice from carrots and oranges, or puréed pumpkin. The yellow of the candy corn color rainbow can be made with juice taken from grapefruits, lemons and ginger root, mixed with turmeric and the honey mentioned above or molasses. Stick a white potato through your juicing machine and combine that juice with, you guessed it, honey or molasses to create a healthy white glaze. Paint your cookies, and any Halloween treats like candy corn, and your kids may not miss the sugary, preservative-filled, toxic, bad-health-promoter that is traditional candy corn. Ingredients

2 sticks butter, softened

1.5 cups powdered sugar

1 tbsp vanilla extract

1 egg

½ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

3 cups flour

red food coloring

yellow food coloring

Directions

Cream together the sugar and butter until light and fluffy. Add the egg and vanilla and continue to beat until incorporated.

In another bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda and salt. Add dry ingredients to the butter-sugar mixture and mix until a soft dough just forms.

Remove dough from mixer bowl and separate into three equal pieces (use a food scale to weigh each piece if you want to be exact!). Mix together a little bit of red and yellow food coloring to make orange and then add the orange coloring to one of the dough pieces. Make another dough piece yellow and leave the third plain.

Place a piece of plastic wrap or tin foil inside a loaf pan and pat down the white dough inside. Place the orange dough on top (pat down firmly) followed by the yellow dough. Remove dough from pan, wrap up in either tin foil or plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight or for at least four hours.

When you are ready to bake your cookies, preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Cut 1/4th-inch slices down the width of the dough. Continue cutting each slice into small triangles.

Place triangles on a lined baking sheet and bake for 6-8 minutes until tops are puffy and bottoms are golden.

Replace Candy Bars with ... Sinful Decadent Healthy Bars without the Guilt Any number of healthy, whole food candy bar alternatives can be made with walnuts, cashews, almonds and other nuts, your favorite fresh berries, dates, puréed or mashed bananas and pumpkin, and many other whole food fruits and vegetables. Blend your dates and mashed fruit, and then combine this mixture with chopped or ground nuts, berries, and seeds. Form in candy bar shapes and place in the refrigerator for an hour. Making whole food versions of popular Halloween treats requires a little creativity and a lot of testing and experimenting, but it's worth the payoff when you know you are giving your children (and yourself) a healthy alternative to traditionally unhealthy Halloween candy. The Colossal Healthy Candy Bar is three tasty parts. First, the bottom biscuit layer inspired by Twix, is a mildly sweet, vegan and grain-free cookie made with coconut flour. It is crisp when it comes out of the oven, but goes pretty cake-y once it is combined with the other ingredients. Delicious nonetheless, and a pretty important counter-point to all the richness of the other layers. Second, the caramel-and-nut layer inspired by Snickers, but with a twist: instead of just using dates in the caramel, I balanced out the sweetness by adding a healthy dose of hazelnut butter. Wowzers. This was a very delicious decision. The caramel became far more complex, rich-tasting, and it is essential to note that this would make a fantastic spread or topping all on its own. If you do not have hazelnut butter, I recommend almond or cashew in its place. Instead of using peanuts, I used roasted hazelnuts to sink into the top of the caramel for awesome texture and crunch – almonds could also be used here. Lastly, each bar is enrobed in luscious, raw, dark chocolate. I usually use coconut oil in my raw chocolate recipes, but after reading the (incredible!) new cookbook Clean Cakes by Henrietta Inman I was convinced that using solely raw cacao butter was the way to go. It delivers a crisper finish and creamier texture. If you want to make things simpler and faster, feel free to use a ready-made bar of chocolate in this recipe instead of making your own. Raw chocolate is, of course, the healthier choice, but if you’re pressed for time or ingredients, this is a good shortcut to take. Coconut Flour Power! With so many diets and lifestyles focusing on gluten-free and grain-free eating, coconut flour is a wonderful option for many people. Made entirely from dried coconut flesh that is pulverized into a soft, fine powder, coconut flour is a nutrient-dense alternative that is increasingly available at health food stores and even supermarkets. Score! There are several benefits of coconut flour, my favorite being that it is remarkably high in protein and fiber. Translation: super filling and satisfying! It is low in sugar and digestible carbohydrates, and scores low on the glycemic index, so it a perfect choice for paleo eaters and diabetics. It’s also nut-free and non-allergenic. The flavor of coconut flour is slightly coconut-y, but not overwhelmingly so. I like it in things like these chocolate bars where there are many other strong tastes going on that overshadow the taste of the flour. If you want to compliment and enhance the flavor of the flour, use coconut milk as the liquid portion of a baked good. Seriously yummy. What’s the catch you ask? Well, there are a few downsides to using coconut flour, mainly due to its density, dryness, and lack of elasticity. It’s certainly not a flour to experiment with if you’re looking to replace wheat flour for instance, as the two behave completely differently (that goes for using coconut flour in place of almost any other flour, whether grain, seed, or nut-based). Coconut flour is also crazy-absorbent and needs quite a large proportion of liquid to solid to avoid crumbly results (I’ve read the comments below, and it seems like a lot of you are struggling with this factor!) Most recipes I’ve found online remedy this by using a lot of eggs, but I used applesauce and flax seeds instead with good results. Once you get the correct ratio down it’s pretty easy to work with, but I’ve learned the hard way that it’s best to use tried and true recipes with this finicky ingredient! The Colossal Healthy Candy Bar Makes 16 bars Coconut flour cookie bottom 1 ½ cups / 175g coconut flour ¼ tsp. fine sea salt ½ cup / 125ml unsweetened applesauce 2 Tbsp. ground flax seeds 1/3 cup / 85ml coconut oil, melted 2-3 Tbsp. maple syrup, as needed Date and nut caramel 1 ¼ cup / 325g pitted soft dates 1/3 cup / 80 ml nut butter (I used hazelnut) seeds of 1 vanilla bean ½ tsp. sea salt Roasted nuts ¾ cup /115g raw hazelnuts or almonds Raw chocolate coating 8.8 oz. / 250g cacao butter (not coconut butter or coconut oil) 1 ½ cup / 150g raw cacao powder ¼ cup / 60ml maple syrup pinch of sea salt Note: raw chocolate can be substituted with two 3½ oz. / 100g bars of dark chocolate (minimum 70% cacao). Directions: 1. Start by making the cookie bottom. In a small bowl stir the applesauce and the ground flax together. Set aside and let gel for 15 minutes. Preheat the oven to 350°F / 175°C. In a large bowl sift together the coconut flour and sea salt. Stir in the melted coconut oil, two tablespoons of maple syrup, the applesauce-flax mixture and blend until the mixture holds together when pressed. If not, add the remaining tablespoon of maple syrup and stir to combine. 2. Line a brownie pan with baking paper and firmly press the mixture into the pan, especially around the edges. Place in the oven and bake for 12-15 minutes until the edges are beginning to turn golden. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool at room temperature. 3. Lower the oven temperature to 300°F/150°C. Spread the nuts out in a single layer on baking sheet and roast for 20-30 minutes until fragrant and slightly darker in color (a good way to check is to cut one in half and check the color in the center. Instead of cream, it should be golden). Remove from oven and let cool completely. If you are using hazelnuts, rub them together to remove as much of their skins as possible. Roughly chop and set aside. 4. Make the nut caramel. Add the pitted dates to a food processor and blend until creamy. Add the nut butter, vanilla bean, and sea salt. Taste and adjust according to your tastes. 5. Spread the nut caramel in an even layer over the cooled cookie bottom. Cover the caramel with the chopped toasted nuts, and press them down so that they are slightly sunken, reserving a few for garnish. Place the pan in the freezer to firm up for at least 4 hours (frozen bars are easier to cut and coat with chocolate). 6. Prepare the chocolate. Melt the cacao butter in a double boiler over barely simmering water. Remove from heat, stir in the maple syrup and salt, then sift in the cacao powder. Whisk together until smooth. 7. Remove the brownie pan from the freezer and pull up the edges of the baking paper to remove the filling. Place on a cutting board and slice into 16 equal bars. 8. Roll each bar in the melted chocolate, then pick up using a fork, allowing most of the excess chocolate to drip off. Set on a wrack and let harden. Take remaining chocolate and drizzle across the width of the bar to create a design (this step is optional, but it makes the bars look really beautiful). While the chocolate is still wet, sprinkle with remaining hazelnuts and let set. Place all bars in the freezer to firm up. Store in an airtight container in the freezer, and remove 10-15 minutes before serving. (Note: these are okay outside of the freezer, but if you’re using raw chocolate they will be relatively soft if left at room temperature).

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Featured #Halloween #Health #healthy bars #recipes #whole food

[its-just-like-the-movies]

Walk the Line (05, C)

Allow me to start my ambivalent reaction to Walk the Line by going after some low-hanging fruit and saying that the film itself walks its own line between a solid level of craftsmanship and an undeniable roteness in how it enacts and presents its own narrative. It’s never bad or even embarrassing in displaying the lives of Johnny Cash and June Carter, though its utter conventionality is marred by how little inventiveness it employs to pull their lives over, and the energy of the piece is astoundingly stodgy. It’s not just that you’ve seen this story before, but you could probably watch some of them in the time it takes to sit through this 136 minute endeavor. In no case, from performance to trajectory to direction, whether you knew anything about the real musicians going into it, do you learn any new ideas about these people from the moment you meet them. By the end, I actually had more questions about why Johnny and June were even together in the first place, and plenty of other odd structural questions as the film’s seemingly endless conclusions kept happening and happening. Walk the Line doesn’t want to be a slog, but the base quality of filmmaking would suggest a slightly more ambitious project than the one we end up getting. It’s barely inspired, requiring more than any one contributor wants to give.

I didn’t know that Johnny Cash recorded a live album in a prison, which may have been the only moment of the film where my confusion came from not knowing anything about Cash walking into this. But from there on in, I’d be hard pressed to call anything the film does anything but predictable. Even if I wasn’t immediately sure which brother was Johnny, the sheer happiness of their scenes in contrast with the monstrous father and serene but unintrusive mother already suggesting a killing of the spare. We know he will die not just because of their against-all-odds happiness in the face of the life they’re living, but the transition to this boyhood sequence sees Johnny staring at a buzz saw, much like the one his brother has trouble using before being carved up. After a scene of domestic terror following the funeral a grown Johnny is sent off to Germany, where the casual inclusion of all his never-to-be-seen-again brothers and sisters loping around outside the house may be the most visually interesting shot in the film. A scene on the phone between Johnny and his fianceé is literally the only moment we see this woman happy about the idea or fact of being married to Johnny Cash. She is specifically against being married to Johnny Cash The Musician, and we are forced to watch the couple trot through escalations of the same basic scene of Vivian seemingly resisting the idea of interacting with his musical career in the slightest. I actively starting wondering by her second scene, as the sight and sound of Johnny and his burgeoning band practicing on their front porch sends her crying into the bathroom out of shame at his inability to make it big, what she ever wanted to do with him. From there on her righteous fury will come out of feeling isolated from Johnny because of his success and suspicious of June, not wanting to discuss either to keep them at bay.

It is hard to single out Ginnifer Goodwin for not adding more to her scenes, though Vivian Cash is perhaps the most immediately obvious example of the film’s total conventionality. And to be fair, it’s not as though we have any real idea of what Johnny sees in her either, though a lot of what people see in each other and think of themselves seem alarmingly opaque at the moments they most need support. At a certain point, I just couldn’t see why June put up with such an unrepentant mess as Johnny Cash, even if he was so beneficial to her career. I couldn’t see why Johnny would keep following a woman doing her damndest at times to stay out of his life, even taking in all of the moments she so happily wanted to be in his life. Why should we care when Johnny’s father shows up late in the film and begins criticizing his son’s life when all we’ve seen of this man is his alcohol-induced terrorizing of his whole family? What is there to make of the late-in-the-film pathologizing of being so reliant on his father for approval about his life, and why does the film so uncomplicatedly hand over this sermonizing to a man who we’ve only ever seen as a terror to Johnny’s wellbeing? “I’ve been off the drink for years.” he says, or something like it, and the film grants Robert Patrick a generous zoom-in close-up as he upbraids Johnny’s high-horse for defending a lifestyle his father rightly sees through as empty, but why the fuck should we care what he has to say? It’s not an uninteresting prospect had it been expanded upon, the father fixing himself up while his son collapses, but jamming it in near the end, especially when June ultimately gives herself unto the role of Official Johnny Cash Ressurrector, feels completely unearned and unneeded. 

Pardon the divergence towards an amazingly minor character, but when it comes to Johnny and June as realized by Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon, and how Walk the Line was directed by James Mangold, my reaction across the board is a noncommittal shrug. I’ll at least say that the first sequence where Johnny meets June, June accidentally getting caught in strapping Johnny Cash’s guitar strap, their musical performances, a talk later that night at a bar. Even the terrible family dinner where Cash’s father makes the speech I just criticized and the subsequent scene of June attempting to swear off Cash being met with reproach by her mother had some energy to it. The film certainly has its lines, its moments. Mangold is able to give the concert scenes a real energy, and both actors are musically talented enough to make them compelling to sit through. It’s not as though later performing scenes lack the energy on display here, though this does seem like the only musical number that lacks any blatant narrative triage. It’s one thing to see June compose “Ring of Fire” after a particularly bad encounter with Johnny, but it’s another to see Johnny and June happily duet “It Ain’t Me Babe” as Vivian Cash sits stone-faced in the front row, holding onto her children like a vice. Too often songs are used in a theatrical sense, not so much forwarding plot but highlighting an emotional tension that’s already pretty noticeable in a film with not a lot of plates spinning. This isn’t necessarily bad, though it would work better if the film was a straight-up musical instead of a biopic that frequently uses the artist’s songs as though that was the case. The indefatigable stage personas of Johnny and June especially are never cracked by their interpreters unless it’s in a monumentally obvious, scripted way, like June running offstage after being trapped in singing a song painful to her past, or Johnny collapsing onstage after an overdose. As note-perfect as their stage personas are rendered by Phoenix and Witherspoon, Mangold and co-screenwriter Gill Dennis only ask us to understand their relationship developments onstage in the songs they sing, not how they interact with each other while they sing these songs.

Which brings me, I guess, to the central issue I have with Walk the Line. As I said, Mangold’s basic level of filmmaking here is too high to call the film actively bad, his leads too solid to embarrass the film. But fine craftsmanship and note-perfect imitation doesn’t make up for how dry and slow this picture is. Oscar-nominated editor Michael McCusker (the most horrendous recognition Walk the Line achieved) is surely partially to blame for how slow the film feels, but that doesn’t take away how impassionately and conventionally realized the film is by Mangold, Phoenix, and Witherspoon. The remarkably limited color palette, only ever broken out of by certain numbers in Ariana Phillips’ Oscar-nominated costumes (my favorite recognition Walk the Line achieved), keeps the film as visually dull as it is energetically low. June’s outfits and some random women in the crowds at least have vivid reds, blues, whites, even the brown of June’s hair is in contrast to the dull colors of the production design and the cinematography. Johnny all-black ensemble never stood out much, and Vivian’s outfits seem to dress her up as some kind of proud, protective wife/mother. It’s more information about her than the script or Goodwin ever gives us, and certainly more than Mangold does. For all the physical and vocal recreations that Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon ably pull off, you can feel how limited the performances frequently are, not just on the script level but in how the principle actors don’t even try to dig deeper than the superficial levels of their characters on the page. Even if the script doesn’t seem to give much reason for June and Johnny to want to be together, a capable pair of performers could certainly have sparked off enough charisma to make me run with it. It’s not just that they’re hemmed in by a weak script, they make no legitimate effort to color in their characters or make their own decisions about them.

What we’re left with here is basically the milquetoast, uninspired blueprint of the tortured artist biopic. It’s the definition of meh across the board, and as much as I wish for a better version of this film, I’m almost equally interested in a worse version that at least has its horribleness going for it. I’ve said that it’s a boring film almost a million times in this paper, and I just don’t have the energy to say it one more time. To anyone watching this for its Oscarness (as I did, and thus hope to never have to deal with it again), knock it off when you’re not really in the mood to watch anything. Maybe being as low-energy as Walk the Line will put you in sync enough to get how Reese Witherspoon’s admittedly buoyant but slim turn steamrolled the Best Actress race, or why this film got any acclaim at all. I’d be happy to listen to Cash and Carter’s albums if anyone asked. But this is a limp thing, and I’m happy to leave it behind.

#my posts #my reviews #walk the line #2005 #joaquin phoenix #reese witherspoon #james mangold

[investmart007]

FAYETTEVILLE, N.C. | In Carolinas, a question as the rivers rise: Stay or go?

New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/fayetteville-n-c-in-carolinas-a-question-as-the-rivers-rise-stay-or-go/171578/

FAYETTEVILLE, N.C. | In Carolinas, a question as the rivers rise: Stay or go?

FAYETTEVILLE, N.C. — The river seethed a quarter-mile away, bulging from its banks, so the patrol cars circled the neighborhood three times.

“Get out now,” a voice boomed from a bullhorn. “This is an emergency.”

Waheeda Reese and her 14-year-old daughter, Anissa, were inside watching news reports about drowned towns all over the state and rain that hadn’t yet stopped.

“All that water is going to come this way,” Anissa said, trying to convince her mother it was time to leave. The city had taped a mandatory evacuation notice to their front door, and a friend in the fire department had called to warn: “I don’t want to have to come pick you up in a boat.”

They still had 22 hours until a deadline to go, and Waheeda wanted to stay. She pointed out the window and said, wishfully, “Look, I think the rain’s letting up.”

As the days drag on, Hurricane Florence has taken this deceptive turn: The violent winds that rattled shingles off houses and tore down trees have subsided, and the pounding rain has eased, lulling many in the storm’s path into believing they’ve already weathered the worst of it — even as rivers quietly churn and continue to rise.

The storm has claimed more than 30 lives and an untold number of homes on its slow march across North Carolina, inundating city after city : Wilmington, New Bern, Lumberton. Now authorities are warning that by the time the Cape Fear River in Cumberland County crests Tuesday at 62 feet (19 meters) — 27 feet (8 meters) over its flood stage — it will threaten to swamp anything within a mile on either side of it. Its tributary, the Little River, is expected to flood, too.

More than 7,000 people were ordered to evacuate by Sunday afternoon. But many, weary of a storm that’s lingered on and on, did their own rough calculus of the odds and decided to stay.

As the Cape Fear River swelled, rescue teams trudged along its banks, pleading with people to get out of its way. Police officers went door to door. The mayor of Fayetteville presented the problem in the starkest of terms: Evacuate or notify your legal next of kin.

Military trucks in rural corners of the county barreled down dirt roads quickly becoming mud pits. “Please go,” soldiers asked stubborn residents along the massive river that curls downstream through small towns, farms and rural mobile home parks and into the city of Fayetteville, where the Reeses live in a subdivision that butts up against the bank.

Anissa’s friend down the street was evacuating with his family and knocked on her door, begging her and her mother to come. The Reeses had packed their things just in case, tucking important documents in a water-tight bag. They stacked chairs on top of tables and moved all the family photos upstairs. Then they waited to see what would happen.

A few miles away, a high-water rescue team comprising two dozen soldiers from Fort Bragg rested on cots in an arena — preparing for water to surge into neighborhoods and send residents climbing out windows and onto rooftops, a familiar scene since Florence made landfall Friday morning.

“I want to make sure those citizens realize the decisions they’re making,” said Lt. John Savage, who commands the team that knocked on doors to talk with those staying behind. “We have thorough conversations with them to let them know the gravity of the situation they’re in.”

Over the weekend, a military truck rolled down the mucky lane to Kevin Blades’ house 20 miles (32 kilometers) upstream from Fayetteville, near where the Cape Fear and Little rivers meet. Savage said there is particular concern about this area. Six horses were drinking from floodwater already pooling on the front lawn.

Power had been out for days. The dirt road to the house was so soggy, the truck got stuck in the mud and Blades and a neighbor had to tow it out.

Blades informed the soldiers he planned to stay anyway and not to worry because he had an escape plan in mind. “If I have to,” he said, “I’ll ride the horses out of here.”

The soldiers left, the Blades played cards, the rain poured on, and the river rose.

Down the road, in the tiny town of Linden, Mayor Marie Butler woke up Sunday morning and asked her son to drive her to look at the Little River. She’d encouraged her residents to leave, but just about everyone she knows decided to stay, so she felt like she had to stay, too — to sound the alarm if the river gets close to spilling over. “It didn’t look that bad,” she said.

“It’s going to get bad,” her son, Thurman Jackson, replied. “There’s a lot of water coming down that river.”

“I’m just praying that the Lord turns it around,” Butler said, looking up at the sky.

From Linden, the Little River ribbons west to a town called Spring Lake, where authorities shut down already-flooded roads and some who’d stayed put started to worry.

Mary Ingram stood outside a convenience store, open only thanks to a generator. She lives with her mother and 1-year-old son two blocks outside of the mandatory evacuation area, so she thought they’d be safe. Then it hit her: “My mom can’t swim. So if it does flood, I can’t save both her and the baby.” She decided to stay, nonetheless.

In the tiny hamlet of Wade, population around 570, Athena Moore has been waiting out Florence in her mobile home a quarter mile (half a kilometer) from the Cape Fear River. Many of her neighbors cleared out, but she’s hosting two friends who fled from the coast as the hurricane roared ashore only to find themselves now in a flood zone. They’re all planning to stay, because they don’t have anywhere else to go.

Back in Fayetteville, as downtown streets started flooding Sunday, Waheeda Reese finally decided it was time to pack the car and get her daughter out.

“So would you be offended if I just dropped you off and came back to stay here?” she asked Anissa.

“Kind of,” her daughter said.

“Why?” “Because you need to be safe, too.”

By CLAIRE GALOFARO, Associated Press

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