#already ate 1 ask before i learned my lesson -sob-

[divinitys-knight]

@sylekko AHH THANK YOUUU <333 Adriel: ENFP Leo Rising, Sun in Libra Gael: ISTJ Taurus Rising, Sun in Virgo Adir: ESTJ Aries Rising, Sun in Sagittarius Lana: ENTP Gemini Rising, Sun in Cancer Colton: INTJ Scorpio Rising, Sun in Capricorn 6th LI: ISFJ Aquarius Rising, Sun in Taurus Also, the 6th LI’s name, class, description, mood board, & silhouette will be posted a week early this Friday on Patreon!

#divinitys knight #visual novel #love interests #answered asks #had to screenshot the ask rather than answer it directly because tumblr is Broken #already ate 1 ask before i learned my lesson -sob- #mbti #zodiac #threw in the rising signs because i love them

[myheroaizawashota]

I'd totally die if you could write aizawa x reader something really wholesome. Like the reader confessing their love and saying that he is a good man And it ending in cuddles and just some fluff stuff. (Sorry if it's not very specific/sucks)

[Ugh I actually LIVE for this kind of thing so, aha no shame in asking for it lol. Honestly just thinking about writing this one made me tear up and gag becusse it’s disgusting how much love I can actually write about this man...(plus I think sometimes aizawa needs to hear these things from time to time) ]

Your heart pounded in your chest as the heels of your shoes clicked with each step you took down the halls of U.A. Normally you didn’t feel such a jittering in your chest when walking around the building, but today was a little different. This would be the first time since the USJ incident you’d be seeing Aizawa. It was crazy to think that stubborn emotionally detached grump of a man made your heart accelerate this much just in anticipation. Shouta wasn’t typically the kind of man one warmed up to. He was distant and the brunt force of his words could be taken as some by vicious and cruel, even uncaring....but you saw another man behind that facade. You knew there was a caring, more kind nature to him that not many were blessed with the knowledge of.

That’s why when you had heard about the attack on the USJ, it broke your heart to pieces to know what had gone down. The more in-depth details of the incident had been kept on low and low as per requested by the principal, but from the details you had gathered from your fellow colleagues Aizawa among was one of the few severely hurt. You didn’t know much of his condition, all you knew was that he had went down fighting for the safety of his students.

You could just remember when Yamada first told you the details of the fight. Your body stood there numb as a laugh shook through your chest. Though you were laughing, tears had began to gush from your the ducts of your eyes, the laughter becoming sobs as your viciously rubbed the ball of your palm into your eyes “that sounds like Shouta...” You couldn’t hold yourself together in that moment. While you wanted to be mad and upset, your body’s natural reflex was to laugh. As much as the man would complain about his students, and complain about their irrational tendencies and over enthusiastic voices, you knew he cared for them as if they were his own children.

You shook your head, clearing the thought from your mind as approached closer to his class room. You had texted him earlier to make sure it was fine you were stopping by. You knew being out for a day or two after the incident really pushed his lesson plans back a bit, and you didn’t want to get in the way and cause any further detrimental effects on his students learning. Even though he has responded with a very ambiguous consent, you still couldn’t help but maybe think you should just come back another time. What did you really plan to say to the man? Sorry you got your ass kicked, but I’m glad your okay.

You stopped in front of the door of classroom 1-A hand hovering on the door knob as you debated over weither or not knock first. Your brain always tended to go a bit goofy when you were around Shouta...it was sad to say the least. Yamada would constantly jab jokes at the soft spots you held for the solemn teacher of the first year hero students. Often times he’d just chant very juvenile things whenever Aizawa was in an ears shot, though for Yamada, an ears shot could be half way across the building. “Y/LN AND AIZAWA SITTING IN A TREE-“ “if you so much as finish that sentence I swear your a dead man walking” “Oooooh relax, im just joshing you around y/n! Besides killing me doesn’t seem very plus ultra of you.”

It wasnt just apparent to Yamada however, apparent most of the staff knew you held an unusual fondness for Aizawa. Some thought it was sweet you were able to find something to love about the other, most thought you were just wasting your time. It was sad just how obvious you were about your feelings and yet it seemed as if the other still couldn’t pick up on your feelings. With a trembling hand, you took a step back from the door hoping to escape unnoticed...but that ship was soon to sail. As you moved to turn around, your heart clenched as you heard his voice on the other side of the door, almost sounding agitated with your indecisiveness. “Are you coming in or not? When you said you’d stop by I didn’t think it would be just to stare at my door.”

Wildly your heart began to thrash around your chest in panic as you tried to formulate a response, any response, though the best you could muster up was the strength to crack the door open. With a heavy chest you pushed the door just enough to slither into the room, eyes freezing as you fixated on his body....you’d never seen him look so...vulnerable. You couldn’t help when the tears began to freely stream down your cheeks as you moved closer into the room. “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes, huh?” You couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at the corners of your lips as your eyes made contact with his body. You weren’t happy to see him like this, not in the slightest, but for some reason you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the knowledge of seeing him alive or maybe the fact that you always smiled when you were anxious, and especially when you were around him.

The sound of your tears settled in the under tones of your voice, but if anyone could pick up on them, of course it would have to be him. “Why are you crying?” He asked in his typically monotone voice, you immediately becoming self conscious of your actions.

Frantically your hands began to wipe at your face sniffling softly as you gave a nervous laugh “how do you know if I’m crying or not you jerk...you can’t even see my face”

His body stiffened in his chair, and simultaneously you began to feel worse. “I can hear it in your voice y/n...plus I can still see past my bandages. It wouldn’t be very practical if I couldn’t now would it...”

You couldn’t help but snort after his retort, you moving closer to your friend sitting yourself on the edge of his desk. “I’m sorry...it’s just...when i was told what happened, I didn’t think to prepare myself to see you in this bad of shape. I knew the injuries you sustained were pretty bad but....” you paused your hand trembling as you moved to push the bangs that fell in his face just far enough back to clear the view of his eyes . “I-I didn’t think it’d be this bad” you whimper the tears once more falling. The smile you’d been holding onto dropped at the same time your hand did, your body shaking as you cried. The sight of him like this hurt your heart and you couldn’t bare to look at him.

This time, it wasn’t as subtle that you were crying. He may not have shown it but most certainly he didn’t care to hear you in so much agony. “I asked you before and you didn’t answer me, I’m going to ask you again. This time please answer me.” His tone was a bit more pressing, the edge in it making you flinch backwards. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, it was just...he sounded so aggravated with you, and that wasn’t what you wanted at all. “Why are you crying Y/N”

It took a minute for you to answer the question...honestly you didn’t know how to at first. The only thing you could think to do was ramble, ramble endlessly and quickly. “B-because...I was so worried for you Shouta! When Yamada told me what happened, I just couldn’t help myself. I cried uncontrollably like a giant toddler... I was so scared that the last time i saw you would be the last time i saw you.” Your words were coming out uneven as you frantically sobbed, your body shaking. “You’re always so quick to think logically in every situation, but how come in the one situation you should have been the most logical about, you decided to act like a giant bone head!”

Aizawa was taken aback by your tone, his body language changing as he listened to you sob. If you could only see his face under those bandages you’d see the grimace spreading across his lips. It pained him to see you so upset....he wanted to interject but before he could you were already back to spouting nonsense his way. “I know you had students to defend and i know you’re not the type of person to just stand by when the stakes are high, but you could have died out there! And I wouldn’t have been able to tell you any of the things I’ve been so afraid to say!” You your sobs mixing in with laughter. “I w-wouldn’t have gotten the chance to tell you how much you infuriate me sometimes when you act like you don’t know I care about you! I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to tell you that I adore the way your lips pull into a pout when you fall asleep while your grading papers in the lounge! I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to tell you that I love the feeling I get when I’m standing next to you and you casually let your pinky brush against mine and act like it was an accident, even though I swear every time you do it I can see you smiling.”

You were a nonstop mechine of tears and nonsense in this moment. The whole reason you were so devistaed by the entire thing was because you loved this man, and the thought of your entire world being ripped away from you without giving you the chance to even let him know he was your world ate away at you. You worked to steady your breathing as you moved to rub your face into your elbow, also attempting to muffle the sobs that were coming out far to quickly for you to stop. “I-it’s selfish of me to worry about all the things I wouldn’t have been able to say to you over the safety of your students, but what was I going to do if you would have died out there before I was able to tell you how much I love you Shouta.”

There was a silence in the air as you both sat there. Neither of you knew what to say in this moment and it was evident. You just sat there mortified, that this was how you finally confessed your feelings to the other, and that he had no response towards any of it. Finally it came time that one of you broke the thick silence that settled between you two. “You talk to much...” shouta responded standing to his feet. Your heart broken into pieces as he said those four words, crushing the hopes that their would be just a minor bit of reciprocation to your feelings. Your head hung as you whimpered out the remainder of your tears. “I was going to say all of that in under five words.” He hummed.

Your head whipped around, watching as the other gently wiggled his arm free of their sling, you cringing as he hissed out in pain. “What are you doing you silly man? You’re going to hurt yourself...” you sniffled.

With a low grunt his arm dangled, he struggling to rest it against yours. You couldn’t see his hands through the casts, but you knew exactly what he was doing. The edge of his bandages gently carcasses your pinky, as he let out a sigh. It was different then most of his other sighs, this one sounded relieved. Rubbing your eyes you watched as he let his head rest against yours, nuzzling himself as close as he could without causing himself any more physical pain. “I guess since you went first I’ll have to sum this up in under six words then...I love you too y/n.”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #my hero academia #bnha #bnha requests #one shot #bnha fanfiction #toshinori x reader #hizashi x reader #bnha x reader #requested

[mummaandmax-blog]

My pregnancy, and excessive weight gain.

So here goes.. PART 1. I’m going to be 100% real with all my posts ALWAYS, I won’t be sugar coating my life in anyway. 😘

I found out I was pregnant in September of 2015, we’d just moved from our home town leaving behind our families and all of our friends. One of the hardest decisions of my life, but something that urgently needed to be done. (won’t be getting into that one sorry guys)

The move and finding our feet was one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do. We both had no jobs, and were literally just hoping for the best. We had a home, a roof over our head but we had to start from absolute scratch.

I found out I was pregnant 6 weeks after we’d moved, and was gob smacked as we had been using no contraception for 3 years! But, knowing due to cysts on my ovaries that had burst a couple of years before and poisoned my system I had a very low chance of falling pregnant if not, not at all. We thought if I did, it would be amazing and it was a miracle anyway! We couldn’t have asked for worst timing of my pregnancy, just moved, no jobs and struggling. And I mean STRUGGLING! But, it was a blessing. THE best thing that has ever happened to us is our son! Through all the stress, of finding work while pregnant and my fiancé looking for work also. It slowly started, the eating to deal with everything going on in my life as well as this baby. It was like the only thing I could control was what I ate, but I had no control all at the same time. I had such an easy pregnancy, I wasn’t sick. I had a few head aches here and there but other than that I was fine! Finally finding work, at 12 weeks pregnant and my partner also. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders we were going to be okay! At around 16/18 weeks pregnant I’d already gained 12 kilos. And it didn’t stop, I ate everything and anything. I worked as a waitress, which didn’t help the unhealthy eating! By my third trimester I’d gone from 55 kilos to 77, and was stupid enough to think (this will just fall off once baby comes out) what a joke right!? How stupid! I was 34 weeks pregnant when I was told I was just far to big to be working behind the bar anymore, it was getting dangerous for me and baby which was a fair call. I got home that night, feeling fine knowing Josh was able to support us just fine! And with only a few weeks left of my pregnancy, i was ready to relax! I was exhausted, heavy and swollen. But, disaster hit again! Josh came home to tell me he’d been laid off due to his work not being able to pay his wages (WHAT A JOKE) I could not believe it, it’s like life just fell apart right before my eyes for a second time. I cried, and cried and cried. (I was SO hormonal) So here we are, both jobless. A baby only weeks from being due, and once again still pregnant under huge amounts of stress and not dealing, but trying to keep my baby safe inside. I just wanted to go home to our families and friends and make it all go away. But, being heavily pregnant at that stage we just couldn’t do that. Those weeks were the hardest, I can’t put into words the stress and anxiety I was feeling about labour, no income and the future of our family. I was so lucky to have the support of our families, and my best friend through SO many phone calls. They kept me sane, and getting through each day. My second to last visit to the midwife, before my due date. She told me my weight gain was excessive, and extremely unhealthy for both me and the baby. I was swollen, aching short of breath and overweight. And it was starting to put stress on our baby, She told me I had to keep these last few weeks to a minimum. I tried so hard, I cried, sobbed, screamed and broke down almost everyday. The greatest gift in our lives was this baby, and this wasn’t the pregnancy I’d imagined having. I WILL never take for granted being pregnant, as I understand some women may never have that chance. But I’d wished for a pregnancy so far different than the one I had. We are so lucky, that we didn’t lose our baby.

By 39w and 3 days I weighed in at 93kilos, luckily enough I went into labour that day. And I still think, Max came early because he could feel the stress I was feeling he knew I couldn’t take it much longer.

I will never make excuses for the amount of weight I gained, and yes everyone goes through stress and I could have handled it in much better ways. I comfort ate, to handle as many curb balls life kept throwing. But I kept my baby safe, ( in all that fat ) 😂lol.

No but seriously, it was my biggest lesson learned. 😘

Stay tuned for Part 2, how I dropped 31 kilos in 11 months 💪

[darkspellmaster]

Cielizzy Week 2017: Protection and Hope

Cielizzy Week 2017 @cielizzydefencesquad

Day 1: Protection/Hope

Couldn’t chose and I realized a story I’ve been working on (getting all the pieces together) would fit both aspects well, so I combined them. Hope people like, this is only a small section of it.

Time: Taking place during debutant season, thus late spring and early summer. Keep in mind this is after the Blue Cult arc, so I’m only hinting at those developments. I have to wait and see what develops.

 By the Lake

So it had come to this, Ciel thought as he crouched down among the taller grass around the lake at Mooring Manor. Here he was, in the dead of night, dressed in a night dress and night cap, crawling around in the mud like some common spy and Sebastian nowhere in sight. He gritted his teeth as he painstakingly moved through the rain covered grass, all the while trying both not to make a sound and not to get dirty so that the other girls in the manor wouldn’t ask questions. The droplets on his bare legs made him shiver and he had to wonder why he didn’t think to put on pants before running out. Of course that would mean waking up Mey rin, and also would lose him time. Time he didn’t have, and every second counted if he wanted to know what was going on.

For the past several weeks he’d been undercover on the behest of his Aunt Frances, and then of the Queen herself. As it had happened one of Frances friend’s daughters had gone missing and had not returned home. The two women had shown up at his estate surprisingly early five weeks ago, a few days after he’d finished yet another mission for the Queen.

“Aunt Frances? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he’d been genuinely surprised to see her come and glanced around. Lizzie wasn’t with her, something he felt a bit sad about, as usually if his Aunt came Lizzie would be right behind her. However, since the situation with the Blue cult, things had been tense between the two teens and it was something that Ciel felt he was going to have to deal with. He’d given Lizzie space to deal with things on her own, but her distance to him made him feel, lonely. He didn’t know how else to describe it.

“Your hair is messed up as usual,” Frances had said, and Ciel glanced at Sebastian who had his hair slicked back by his Aunt. Ciel had readied for her to march over and do the same to him, but surprisingly she didn’t. He glanced over her form, dressed as impeccable as always, his Aunt Frances was a woman that you didn’t mess with and normally she had the look of a woman determined to get something done. And yet, for today at least, she seemed far more worried than anything else.

Ciel dutifully slicked his own hair back and she seemed to smile, even as it fell out of place just as fast. “You never could keep your hair fixed, just like your father.”

Ciel shrugged at this and took a sip of tea, “I suppose in that way we are alike.”

“Would you care for some breakfast?” Sebastian asked, offering her a seat and Frances took it. “We have a lovely set up of…”

Holding up her hand she silenced him, making Sebastian pause as she spoke, “Black tea and some toast. I’m honestly not hungry.”

“As you wish, Madam,” Sebastian gave a bow as he went to retrieve her requested and Ciel offered her some jam choices for when the toast came back.

“So why did you come? Is Lizzie coming with you today?”

“No, quite frankly I don’t want her here for this.” Frances told him and this gave the young Earl a moment of surprise, though he tried to hide it.

“Oh?” he set down his cup as he had stopped mid drink and looked at her curiously. This was a first and something he’d not seen from his Aunt. “This isn’t about the Blue…”

“We won’t be talking about that Ciel,” she said briskly. Ciel knew not to press, his Aunt was dealing with Lizzie in her own way, and he hoped that she could sort things out for her. He was worried that there was going to be lingering effects from that case, and he knew he’d have to eventually deal with them.

“Then what exactly?”

Sebastian brought over the tea and toast, which Frances thanked him, and set about spreading some strawberry jam on the slice of bread, after taking care of her tea. “I’ve invited a friend over to come and speak with you. She needs,” Frances looked at her tea as she spoke cautiously, “assistance.”

Ciel gave her a quizzical look, “Assistance in what?”

“Her daughter…” started Frances and Ciel raised an eyebrow as if to ask his Aunt if she was trying to set him up to go to a ball or something with this girl.

“I don’t think I have time for…”

“Ciel, it’s not a gentleman’s role that’s needed here,” Frances snapped, and stirred her tea. She seemed nervous, annoyed, and slightly frightened. Ciel folded his hands listening as she spoke. “Her daughter has gone missing it seems.”

“Missing?” Ciel asked and Frances quickly shook her head.

“I don’t know everything. She said she would explain in detail when she arrived, but the Countess is a woman that is easily emotional about her child. Agatha was sent for lessons for her debut, she was supposed to come out this season, but has not returned home. She last wrote her mother saying that she had no intention of coming out, and that she was going to be a woman of the world.”

Ciel stared a bit dumbfounded by this. “A woman of the world? What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure myself,” admitted Frances. “I assume that means travel, but it could be code for something else. She has the letter, if you ask I’m sure Countess Lauding would let you look at it.”

Ciel nodded, “And what time was she supposed to arrive?”

“A half hour after I did,” Frances told him and Sebastian quickly slipped out of the room to start preparing for the Countesses arrival. This wasn’t enough time for a normal butler, but for Sebastian, well this wasn’t a huge challenge either.

Exactly a half hour on the mark a carriage pulled up with an older, shorter woman, dressed in a garish green dress and hat. She had on furs and looked like she had been crying as she tried to hide her red face behind a veil.

“Countess Olga Lauding,” Sebastian introduced her to Ciel as he came over to greet her with his Aunt. The woman looked at him, sniffled and then said in a voice that sounded much like that of a frog croaking.

“Oh he looks like the sweetest boy. Such an angelic face, much like my…my…my AGATHA!” she started to sob again and Ciel winced with the loud crying sound the woman made as Frances went over to console her friend.

“Perhaps it would be best to take this meeting in the solarium,” Sebastian had whispered and Ciel had him quickly usher the sobbing woman and his Aunt there. He was already feeling exhausted by the lady that was visiting. Joining them not that long after he found she’d settled in nicely, munching on biscuits and tea, and seemingly calmer than before. Although she was still crying behind her veil.

“Countess Lauding,” Ciel sat opposite the two women who were sharing a bench across the table from him. “My Aunt was telling me that you want me to look into a matter for you?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” croaked the woman as she ate. “Frances said that you were one of the best at resolving issues in a discreet manner. And I need this resolved, my poor baby is out there and I’m so worried for her.”

Ciel sighed, this was reminding him of the situation with Derick Arden, though he didn’t want to think of that situation as the outcome would not be beneficial to the woman that sat before him. Ciel crossed his legs and watched her carefully, trying to read her face and body language, something he’d picked up from Sebastian when he was playing the Vicar Jeremy. The one thing that he managed to pull in was the fact that this woman was trying to control her own emotions and clearly was distraught by her missing child.

“Can you tell me, in brief, what happened?” he’d asked and the Countess began to relate the events as quickly as she could.

“My daughter Agatha is turning nineteen this year, it’s her debutant event, as custom with our family to have our girl’s come out when they’re nineteen. Well, she’s been training for several years now, and learning all the things that a refined young woman must learn. Her teacher, Ms. Mary Smithson, has for a final lesson every year the young ladies go to Mooring Manor, it’s just off the Northern coast near Whitby in North Yorkshire.”

Ciel glanced at his Aunt for some confirmation as she added directly, “Various schools will take small trips out to a location where the young ladies can practice more candidly. Sometimes the younger students will go visit the older students there for refined lessons, although it’s not for long periods.”

“So how does this connect to your daughter going missing?” Ciel inquired as he folded his fingers watching the older Countess as she shook sipping her tea. Frances had to hold her arm to keep her from spilling it.

“Well, as it is, Agatha was chosen as one of the leaders of her class for Ms. Smithson’s school. Leader’s help refine the younger girls and she had to leave early for Mooring, about a month before the other girls come. At first I got letters weekly, telling me all about what was happening, but then, the letters started to slow down. I only received them two times every two weeks. Agatha knows I like to keep in strict contact with her so I found it odd. Then I got no response from her when I told her that we were making arrangements for this spring for her to have her own ball to welcome her to society. And I heard nothing back at all.”

The woman looked like she was about to cry again, and Ciel quickly handed her a handkerchief which she gratefully took to wipe her eyes. “So no responses to any letter you wrote after that?”

“None,” the Countess told him directly. “Earl Phantomhive, I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been. I’ve written Ms. Smithson, but she only said that Agatha was busy and that she didn’t have time to write. Yet other girls in her class certainly were keeping their mothers abreast of their works at the school.”

“Could it be that she simply is too busy to write?” Ciel suggested casually, and the woman shook her head vehemently.

“No, I know my daughter. She wouldn’t have just left off like this! She’s a very attentive girl, your grace.” The countess sighed and whimpered some. “More recently I received a letter from my daughter, but it doesn’t sound like her.” She pulled a small envelop from her bag and handed it over to Ciel who looked it over as the Countess quietly sobbed into his kerchief.

Ciel furrowed his brows as he read the elegant scrawl.

‘Dearest Mother,’ it began, ‘I’m writing to inform you that I have no need of a debutant ball. My life is fulfilled and I am excited to begin it.

Dear Mother, whom I adore, do not worry about me as I’ve found myself and have become a woman of the world. I shall strive to make others as fulfilled as I am. Do not seek me out, nor write to me again until I write to you. I have no need for the past now, and no need of social structures.

Mother I shall not be writing again, but known that I love you.

You’re dearest Agatha.’

Ciel stared at the letter, slightly intrigued, but also more confused. The letter seemed to be a normal decoration of independence from her family. Yet there did seem to be something odd about it. The structure, the way it felt like it was a form letter, and the insistence of not writing to her or seeking her out.

Handing the letter over to Sebastian, who quickly tucked it away, Ciel gazed at the Countess.

“I have a few questions I need answering, Countess Lunding,” she nodded as he leaned forward and watched her eyes as he asked. “Firstly, has your daughter been in contact with less than desirable people?”

The Countess paused, “What…what do you mean by that?”

“I mean has she been associating with men and women that frequent opium dens, or in areas of town where noble young women normally do not frequent?”

“No!” insisted the Countess. “At least I don’t think she has. We never go out unless it’s as a family. Agatha is our only child. I…I could not carry another to term, so we decided that she was to be our only heir and angel.”

“I see, I am sorry for your losses,” Ciel said then quickly added, “What of her friends? Does she have any?”

“She normally associates with young ladies at the debutante school, or at the ladies college that she attends, oh and she does charity work at some work houses,” the Countess explained. “But she normally goes with me to the work houses as part of our church.”

“So she’s fairly dutiful as far as being a daughter is concerned,” Ciel inquired and the Countess nodded. “What of the school run by Ms. Smithson? How is that?”

“Well we were invited through one of our family friends, their daughter attends it. It seemed to be a good fit for Agatha, and we’ve only heard good things from the girls that graduated from there.”

Ciel again looked to his Aunt for any input that she could give. Frances shook her head, and he figured she’d talk later. Back and forth this went, the Countess answering questions about Agatha and what she could about the school, who ran it, and how one got an invitation. It all seemed normal and fairly familiar as far as Ciel understood about ladies debutant schools and teachers.

“Well,” he finally said to her as they were wrapping up the interview and the day had gotten late. “I will certainly see what I can do, but I can’t promise much as there’s not a lot to go on, Countess, but I will do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Countess Olga said as she mounted her carriage. “Take care of yourself, young Earl. I’m sure that one day you’ll be invited to a ball as well.”

Ciel gave her a slight smile at this, as her carriage departed. Once it was gone he went in with his Aunt and turned on her asking.

“How does this all concern you?”

“Olga is a friend of Alexis’s Aunt Eunice,” Frances told him and he tilted his head. “You’re wondering what I think?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly I suspect she may have gotten married or run off with a young man that she met in Whitby. But without proof I can’t make that argument to her.” Frances told him as they made their way into a parlor.

“I suspect you’re staying for dinner?”

“No, I can’t. But I do want you to at least look into this matter Ciel. It might not be as important as your other matters, but it’s something that would certainly do me a favor.”

Ciel paused and gave her a slight glance, “You’re my Aunt, Marquees. How can I say no to you?”

“You could, but I’m pleased that you’re not.” Frances smiled at him and added. “You’ve grown, Ciel. Matured from where you were three years ago.”

He nodded, but felt unsure of that himself. While Ciel certainly had Sebastian look into the matter, he wasn’t completely sure that there was much he could do about it. Without proof of some form of foul play, or a way to learn more about Agatha, other then what her few friends told him –“She’s sweet, honest, loyal and a wonderful young woman that you can trust and depend on” –he could only guess about what happened to Agatha. So he put the case on the back burner to focus on more pressing matters.

Things changed though when the Queen sent the double Charles to bring him a note at his London estate while he was visiting there. The letter pertained to a similar case, only in this case it was a friend of the Queen’s daughter, and she and several other high ranked nobles had gone missing. The one thing connecting all the girls was the fact that they all went to Mooring Manor through different debutant schools.

So it was because of the Queen’s order that Ciel had to go to his Aunt and ask how to make inquires at Mooring Manor.

“You can’t.” Frances had explained when he had come to visit her.

“What do you mean I can’t?” Ciel had questioned. “That makes no sense.”

“During the time that the Manor is being used by the debutant schools, men are not allowed on the premises. Only girls, and only girls that are connected to a school.”

Ciel stared at her hard, “So you’re telling me I can’t simply go there to ask questions.”

“No.”

He scowled, “How does one get into Ms. Smithson’s classes?”

Frances paused in reading her book, “Don’t expect to, Ciel. Her classes are all booked up. There’s no way a new young woman can join.”

“So then another school or class?” he inquired and Frances seemed to think for a moment then shut her book. She seemed to mull over something and looked thoughtfully at her nephew.

“If you can get someone inside to make inquires then you’ll have your information, correct? And you will look for the Countess’s daughter?”

“Yes, of course, I have been making inquiries but hit a wall in them until now.” He admitted to her and Frances gave him a small smile. She shook her head and chuckled.

“Just like your father.”

Ciel tilted his head, “Aunt Frances, what do you know?”

“Nothing, but I can give you an in. I’ll write you an invitation and get you a meeting with the school that I went to. Miss Candomire’s Finishing school is excellent. Not the new modern one like Ms. Smithson’s but it has its own charms, and it teaches the basics very well.”

“Thank you Aunt Frances,” Ciel meant every word of it. This wasn’t going to be easy and he made a face. “When should I expect a call from the school?”

“In a week’s time,” Frances told him. True to her word Ciel received a letter at his home asking for a meeting with the young lady of the Violet household. This surprised him but decided to find out details later. There was work that needed to be done and he knew sadly what that meant. Visiting Nina Hopkins for the costumes he was going to need was not something that he wanted to do, but he did so any way. Of course she had been excited about making the dress for him, and true to her word she had the outfit ready for him two days before the meeting.

Ciel sucked in all his embarrassment as he went to the school’s main building with Sebastian in tow. The demon was, as usual, acting smug about the whole thing.

“Don’t you dare laugh about this, or tell anyone.” He’d warned Sebastian as he sat there in a dark blue dress and long blue braided wig. He’d been careful to have his eye hidden, but if he got in, he knew he couldn’t keep it that way forever, so he covered it with an elegant looking eye patch and had hoped that the whole thing would play off to the Headmistress as an unfortunate case of the young woman having been blind in one eye at an early age.

Thankfully everything went according to the plan. Cecilia Violet, cousin to the former Prefect Gregory Violet of the Weston Academy, was a young woman who wished to have a chance to advance her placement in society and learn to be one of the best. The only thing that made Ciel take pause, as Sebastian looked over the information at the school was that there was no butler’s allowed, only maids could help serve them.

In the carriage Ceil grimaced as Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and seemed to let out the weakest remorseful sigh ever. “It seems like I won’t be able to be by your side there, my lord.”

“But you’ll still be on the grounds. I’ll make that happen,” Ciel told him and Sebastian smiled.

“But of course,” he looked over the recommendation letter that Gregory Violet’s mother had sent. “It seems your Aunt has turned and gotten the aid from your Master Violet’s family. I suppose this is a thanks for our work helping them with their son, no doubt.”

Ciel nodded, he was going to have to thank Violet in some way later for this. Of the P4, Violet was the one that he trusted and the one that he got along with. He watched out the carriage as people passed in the early spring weather and made a face.

“This means I’m going to have to bring Mey-rin with me. I’m not sure she’s up to the challenge, but…” he paused thinking that she was the only female servant he had, and she’d have to be trained in how to dress him.

“Fear not my lord,” Sebastian smiled at him. “I will personally make sure she’s fully trained and that she’s ready for your lessons.”

The smile on his face didn’t instill courage in Ciel. He knew that Sebastian could train Mey-rin, but he was sure that the maid wouldn’t remember half of it. He could only hope that they could pull this off. Exactly two weeks to the day Ciel and Mey-rin arrived at their first lesson at the Harrington estate where the girls from Miss Candomire’s Finishing school was being hosted.

It was there that Ciel got the surprise that he wasn’t ready for. Lizzie was there as well, and was in one of the later stage classes. This meant that at times they were going to have to not only meet but also Lizzie was going to have to mentor him as Cecilia. And so it went, for days and weeks, Ciel trying to not only gather information but avoid Lizzie out of fear of her both seeing him dressed as a girl, and finding out what he was doing there.

Time passed slowly for the young Earl and he made friends with the lower girls, trying to find out about Agatha and the Queen’s Daughter’s friend. It wasn’t until almost a full month in that he was able to get to know a select group of girls calling themselves the Dancing Princesses. These were the most well off and the girls in the classes. Young women that were close to coming out and who had family that had the bluest of the blue blood. They were catty in some cases, and in others overly charming. Ciel despised them, but they became useful as he quickly discovered that Agatha had been involved with the group.

So it went, Ciel carefully laying the ground work to get involved with the Dancing Princesses, and hearing whispers about them going out to a weekly party hidden away from all the eyes of the watching teachers. The school had gone to Mooring Manor as part of a retreat for the girls, and it was there, while in his room, that Ciel had seen the lantern lights floating across the moors.

Intrigued, he’d gone out to investigate, minus Mey-rin and Sebastian, and was now crawling around trying to follow the group of girls, dressed in full on regalia, crossing the sea of grass like a bunch of ghostly ships in the dead of night.

As he got closer to the assembly he spotted at least three of the girls from the Dancing princess group that he’d come to recognize as ring leaders and tried to listen to what they were saying. That’s when he felt something watching him and was sure that he was being followed.

Ciel turned quickly in the darkness, but the sound of his body moving caught the attention of one of the girls at the end of the line and they stopped walking. Ciel froze realizing the moon was coming out of the clouds. He was about to be spotted when, whatever was following him, knocked him down into the dirt and he held in a scream. A warm, but cool, hand covered his mouth and shushed him.

“Stay quiet please,” a voice whispered, and in the glint of moonlight Ciel could make out long blonde locks. He froze and listened as the girl got a bit closer, then seemed to search for a moment, before turning and rejoining her friends. There was quite chatter, and then they moved on.

Once the cluster of girls had walked a bit farther Ciel felt the hand move from his mouth. He could feel the weight of a body on his, and, as a part of him swallowed nervously as his hand touched the back of his assalient. He could also feel a chest pressing against his, a growing female chest at that, and it made him turn red. His eyes quickly moved to the face that hovered over his, Lizzie. But she wasn’t looking at him, her green eyes were on the girls that were heading farther out.

“I think…yes they can’t hear us now,” she sat up and moved back some looking down at Ciel who stared up at her. There was a small scowl on her face although she looked more worried.

“What are you doing out here?” They both questioned at the same time, and Lizzie was the first to respond.

“Trying to find out what you’re up to.”

Ciel quickly tried to put on a fake voice in reply, “Me? Oh nothing. I just wanted to see the stars.”

Lizzie grew annoyed by this and quickly ripped the night cap off his head.

“Lizzie, no!” he yelped and reached to pull it back. Ciel was ready for her to jump in surprise, but she didn’t.

“Why…” he could see hot tears in her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on a case here! Why have you been avoiding me Ciel?! Tell me!”

She threw the cap back at him, “After all this time, after everything with…” she clenched her fists, “have you come to distrust me so much?”

“I could ask you the same question, you’ve been avoiding me too,” he started to say then bit his lip and closed his eyes. Seeing those tears hurt. “Lizzie…I…I’m sorry. You’re mother asked me to get involved in this. I didn’t want you having to deal with…I could never…”

He was babbling again. Why only around her, when she was upset like this, when she was embarrassed or honest with him could he never get his words right. He cleared his throat. “How long have you known.”

“Since about a week or so after Cecelia first was introduced to me. I recognized Mey-rin and Paula had to help her out, so it didn’t take much for me to put things together.” She stared at him, a pained look crossed her face. “Do you hate me now? After what happened? Do you hate me?”

“No! Lizzie I could never hate you! You of all people,” he looked away, not sure what to say. Blavat had done a number on their trust.

“So why not tell me?”

“Because other people would find out Lizzie, and then, things could get out of hand. And I won’t have you hurt.” He told her looking her in the eye. “I couldn’t tell you for your own protection.”

“My protection?!” she shook her head. “Ciel, I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself safe, you on the other hand…”

She looked at him, dirty night gown, hair a mess, pale skin covered in mud. This was so not like the Ciel she knew, and it made her suddenly giggle. They were outside, in the middle of the night, in a light rain, covered in mud and dirt, and fighting about…did it really matter. Lizzie reached out and brushed the mud from his cheek.

“Here, at least let me clean you up.”

Ciel froze, not sure what to do. This was different than normal. Normally Lizzie would be crying and upset. Normally she would be acting like a child, but here, in this place, she had to be more mature to follow the rules. Around him, she always acted the way she did to please him, and yet, right now, he wasn’t sure what to say. A flush covered his face, this wasn’t what he was used to and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Thank you,” he said closing his eyes and letting her clean his face. The moment the hand was gone he missed it. But there was matters to deal with. Lizzie had since moved off him, and again he missed her weight, oddly. He wasn’t sure why but he did.

She’d folded her night dress and robe over her knees and waited to see what he was thinking.

“Did you’re mother tell you I was here on a mission for her?”

“No,” Lizzie admitted, “Though I assume it’s about the girls that have gone missing.”

Ciel looked at her surprised, “You know about that?”

Lizzie looked embarrassed. “Girls will gossip around here. I’m not that well liked because of my skills, but, some do tell me things. There’s rumors about a weekly dance.” She looked up. “Should we follow them?”

Ciel nodded and got up, they were far enough away that they could still see the lights but not so far that they had lost them, and he was sure they wouldn’t be seen. Following quietly he explained to her what was happening and Lizzie, taking in everything, seemed at first shocked, then angry.

“Do you think someone is kidnapping the girls?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “But I intend to at least find out. That’s why I wanted to get in close to the Dancing princesses. They seem to know something.”

Ciel kicked at the grass as he tried to move, “This gown is too long.” Suddenly he felt something tug at the hem and looked back to see Lizzie take off the tie to her robe and loop it around his night gown. With deft movement she tucked up the lower skirt just enough to allow him to move freely. His legs were colder now, but he could easily run.

“That should help some,” she commented and Ciel nodded as they moved on.

“Thank you, again. How long were you following me?”

“Since you left the manor house,” Lizzie admitted as she hiked up her skirt to follow him through the moors. “The farther we go the more it turns into a swamp. How did they get across this?”

Ciel snorted, “I bet they know a path or they were given a map where there are boards set up.”

Lizzie watched as the lights grew dimmer. “We can’t go any farther then this and they’re moving way to fast.”

“Not to mention someone will notice us missing. I’m sure they have a way back in,” Ciel muttered as he yanked his foot out of the mud and shook his head. “Why would they go off into marshes in the middle of the night to dance at a party?”

“We could come in the morning,” Lizzie suggested and Ciel looked up at her from his musings. She smiled, “Every weekend there’s free time to spend. Some girls go off into town. We can go exploring the moors to look for flowers and the like. They won’t question that at all, and we can look for a path that could lead us across here.”

Ciel stared for a moment then laughed, “Lizzie, that’s a brilliant idea.” And it would work. It was something that he could easily do without Sebastian. “Alright, tomorrow I’ll…”

“We’ll …” she corrected, again he stared. “I’m coming with you.”

“Sebastian can come…” he started to say and she quickly pointed out.

“If they see you with one of the servants here that’s not your own someone will talk. It’s better to have a friend with you, then Sebastian.”

Ciel sighed somewhat reluctantly. “Very well,” he crossed his arms. “You’ll come with me to find out how they’re walking across this quagmire. But that’s it. I don’t want you getting involved in all this.” He started to walk back and she grabbed him by the arm.

“Ciel, I am involved. You’re here, and I….” Lizzie blushed some and tried to look lady like, “I need to keep you safe. You don’t know what those girls are capable of.”

“And you do?” he inquired, almost with a smirk. Lizzie nodded and Ciel looked concerned.

“They can be very petty and catty. One girl had her hair cut here last year because she had asked one of the boys that came to the practice dances to put his name on her card. The boy, I heard, was liked by one of the older girls, and she threw a fit and cut her hair because of it. There has been dead mice and bugs found in peoples beds and dressers. It’s not safe to start questioning them if you don’t know how to move in their circles.”

Ciel glanced down at Lizzie’s hand and took it in his. “Alright. Let’s get out of here. I can’t stay in this chill much longer.”

Lizzie nodded and helped him to navigate out of the marsh area till they were on dry land. There, the ground was a bit warmer, so Ciel could feel his toes once more. He looked over her then himself. Both were covered in dry mud, speckled on like freckles over their skin from the walk.

“How are we going to cover this?” He could make out Sebastian’s smirk among the larger rock formations that dotted the moors, clearly the demon was enjoying this show. He’d have to deal with him later.

“When we get back in, we can set up a bath for you. I don’t have to get up early in this case since my classes start later and Paula can cover for that. You do though,” Lizzie pointed out as they walked hand in hand under the dark sky. It was during this walk that Ciel noticed that neither had let go and he thought for a moment.

“Lizzie,” she looked back at him as she was in the lead.

“Yes, Ciel?”

He turned away, partly embarrassed, “If you’re going to help me, you’re going to need to be my knight and protect me. Are you ready to do that? There’s a chance that things could get out of control. People could be hurt, and there are things I must do for Her Majesty. You do understand this?”

Lizzie nodded then let go, turned and curtsied to him. This surprised Ciel who watched her, then took on his normal noble air as she spoke.

“Earl of Phantomhive, I Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford, daughter of Marquess Alexis Leon Midford, leader of the British knights, will protect you with my life and be your sword and shield until your mission as the Queen’s Watchdog has ended. This I swear.”

Ciel covered a small laugh at this but seemed rather pleased as Lizzy stood up and held out her hand to his. He took it and silently pledged to himself.

“I Earl Ciel Phatomhive, will protect you Elizabeth, with my life.”

 Things would get better between them, they had to. Time would ease some of the pain that they had suffered, but Lizzie had always been his light, and she was the one thing that kept him going forward. He secretly hoped that somehow he was the same thing for her. 

#cielizzyweek #cielizzyweek2017 #ciel phantomhive #elizabeth midford #lizzie #lizzy #ciel #sebastian michaelis #sebastian #part of a longer story #day 1: protection and hope #ciel x lizzie #ciel x lizzy #cielizzy week

[themaraudingmisfits-blog]

Advice you probably shouldn’t take

DISCLAIMER: The following decrees are spewed by the mind of a highly unqualified twenty something who has zero knowledge about philosophy and even lesser tact or wisdom to dish out sappy quotes and is totally against self help books and thinks rainy days in her jammies with hot cocoa is what it feels like to be “zen”.

Since I don’t have a fairy Godmother who turns pumpkins into carriages, life sorta continued sucking till I learned these things the hard way and I though hey, why not bug you guys with it and maybe some unhappy soul  who is ambling around in this big bad world might actually find it useful but then again since it’s me, it’s advice you probably shouldn’t take...

#1.My first decree to all you humans and non -alike-THOU SHALT BE AWESOME!!

Don’t ever be any less!!

Don’t go down gently!!

Be relentless!!!

Raise hell!!

To all the haters who tell you to be less weird or less loud or to live by the rules or to be part of the flock…tell all of them to fuck off!!

We struggle with the whole of our being to get through each day, with bad coffee and late passes and F’s on pop quizzes and broken hearts , why make it harder than it already is by trying to fit in? Why be a different you? Why must you listen to the dont’s and the cant’s and the shouldnt’s  and all those other frownie words?

Take your life by the reins and charge into the world with your oh so special souls coz you have one freaking life and you have to make it count as the sparkly person you are!! Be proud and awesome!

Be confused, be gay, be a lesbian, be emo, be a blob, be anything and want everything because you deserve nothing less and you are enough for yourself!!

#2.QUIT

Whaaat?? What is this crazy chick saying? The whole world tell me to keep going, to keep trying ,quitters never win and all that bull and one fine day she comes along and tells me to quit?

Yes, I just told you to quit.

Quit doing what you don’t like LOVE !!

Don’t do it coz your best friend does it, or it’s been in the family or that’s what your sister majored in. Stop taking those guitar lessons you hate, you don’t have to watch GOT or listen to profane songs or put on make-up. Stop doing all those things unless you absolutely sure as hell love doing it. Coz you’ll have been whiling away your time, missing out on things you love. Do you really want that for yourself?

If you dont’ stop now then soon you’ll be stuck at a desk job typing in numbers and missing out on doing some volunteer work or taking snake charming lessons or gorging on barbeque flavoured bagels in Northern California so quit now and run off , getting the hell away from what was holding you back,

 #3.It’s okay to say NO!!

I’m one of those people who cannot CANNOT say a decent NO to anyone even if it means doing something that makes me miserable or if it means having to walk an extra kilometre to go get that person’s favourite kind of popsicle even if she’s been a total bitch to me my whole life,I multi task, I take on stuff, a gazillion things with the complete knowledge that I know I won’t be able to go through with it but I’m going to use my yet to be discovered powers and what happens at the end? I mess up, I’m unhappy and grumpy and I compIain about what was originally my fault because I was a wimp who couldn’t muster up the single syllabic no.

But you know what? You are not super human, most of us are struggling to be barely human, we cannot do everything, that whole “anything is possible if you believe “ is total BULLSHIT!! It’s not, you can’t complete your assignments and study for that test and still have the pulsating energy for that party next door. So don’t go for it unless your brain says HELL YEAH!!LET’S DO IT!!

#4.PEOPLE  HAVE  EXPIRY DATES!!

Yea you heard me right...I said people not the can of soup that has been growing some sort of suspicious looking green stuff(which by the way you should stop hoarding!!).

Not worth it to-be stuck in a unkind, possessive , abusive, snarly ,jealous ,selfish…basically pick any word from Webster’s which associates itself with a generally unhappy state of mind relationship…those people should be dead to you by now.

IT’S TIME FOLKS!!IT’S TIME TO MOVE ON!!

Move on from friends who treat you like crap, from boyfriends who treat you like crap,from girlfriends who treat you like crap…you are not crap!!

No more abusive words, no more long sleeved sweaters to hide your black and blue skin, no more should you feel unloved, unwanted or undesired, no more lying and tears. Let’s not make our lives into a second production of sad soaps coz grass is definitely greener on this side of life where there’s only love, trust and respect and smiles from the very few who count.

So get off that curvalacious ass of yours, leave all that rotting people baggage behind for good with no guilt stricken conscience and start walking away while humming HAKUNA MATATA!!

#5.Dont strain those emotional brain muscles!!

Overanalysing?

Thinking so hard that you have that constipated vegetable look on your face? Sleepless nights? Heated discussions where you take advise from a gazillion other people who think they know what’s good for you?

Should I say yes to that guy?

Should I order that scrumplicious looking doughnut or go for that equally yummy cupcake?

Pink or blue?

STOP!!

As my dog-loving-only-chicken-eating(coz chickens don’t have brains)friend(after this maybe ex-friend) would say..go with  your instincts!!

You’ll screw up! Probably the very next decision you take after this will turn out to be a hot mess and you’ll want to kill me but atleast you’ll know never to do it that way..I now know that I shouldn’t ever wear pink after a horribly etched in my memory photoshoot, prawns make me nauseous after the embarrassing barfing incident at an upscale Chinese restaurant ,I shouldn’t ever have anything to do with technology(I go in like god-freaking-zilla and I step on it or break it or submerge it…)

I’m never a 100% certain about my decisions but they’re mine and I take sole responsibility ,no blame games for me.I stopped overthinking, I go with the flow now, I’m impulsive and rash,I don’t agonize over things anymore and it’s made life SOOOOOO much easier, more time to add the I should never do this list.

I’d be lying if I said that I don’t think and take crappy advice AT ALL ,but I’m better, instead of spending a week now I take like two days.Hey, maybe I’ll get better one day...

#6.Love the hot boiling mess that you turn your life into!

YOU SCREWED UP??? What the hell is wrong with you? How could you mess this up? Weren’t you thinking straight??

Dudes and dudettes, I’d ask those same questions to the ones who don’t screw up and pack them off to the nearest loony bin.

It’s okay to screw up…it’s normal.

Everyone around you telling you to be a proactive fixer upper?

Being asked to take responsibility ?

To stop moping around and take action?

BACK OFF!!Those people are the emotionless Umbridges of life.

You messed up? Big fucking whoop!! You don’t have to pick yourself up, take all the blame, find a solution and make things right and still have the energy to carry on. If that was the case then I’d be able to do impossible things like solve the mystery behind the Bermuda triangle and lift Thor’s hammer, but there’s a reason why I don’t do these things, because they’re impossible!!

You let things go down to shit? Be upset, cry, bawl your eyes out, don’t talk to people, eat that monstrous bucket of chicken, do what you have to, feel better. You feel better now?

Pat yourself on the back and slowly pick yourself up from that slough of despair , surround yourself with friends who back you up no matter what and try to sort things out and if not then have the heart to let go and  most importantly, even if you don’t fix things, FORGIVE YOURSELF.

REPEAT THE PROCESS AS AND WHEN NEEDED!!

#7.You feel it? Then show it!

Don’t ever hold back on what you’re feeling, let it all out.

SHOUT OUT AND CELEBRATE!!SQUEAL AND JUMP AROUND AND SMILE LIKE CRAZY AND CRY...

Embrace those happy moments!! Be excited, unreasonably so. Feel ungraciously happy, weak in your knees happy, fist pumping, bursting out of your seams happy. It’s okay to be happy.

CRY. Wring out those tear ducts, let those waves of sadness keep coming, heart breaking sobs, it’s okay to cry.

BE ANGRY.BE FURIOUS.SCREAM if you have to, throw things around, don’t hold back on what you have to say or do.(DO NOT DECAPITATE ANYONE)

Be ANYTHING you want to be, because the right ones who care will understand and they WILL stay.

Cut yourself some slack guys!!You’re worth every bit of love and all the cuddly puppies in the world. Forgive yourself. Hug yourself. Take time off. Stop chasing people and their dreams, start chasing your glittery dream, even if it’s to finally go get some milk from the grocery store or do some late spring cleaning or to land that long dreamt of position as chief editor and love love love and forgive forgive forgive, yourself and everything.

All this might not really unveil answers to the unsolved mysteries of the universe..where do all my pens keep disappearing or who ate the last cookie in the jar..but it helped me through a lot of shit, made me deal with life a lot better than before and made me fall in love with myself all over again, and maybe just maybe you might take up some of this or even smile and THAT my dears, even just a tiny smile will make ALL the difference.

#randomrants #livelovelaugh #loveyourself #forgive and forget #awesome #fearless #letitout

[bottledsilhouettes]

A letter to myself

Neha. Happy birthday. It’s currently 10:46pm in New York City and you’ve already had calls from Shriya, Nana+Nani and Ammi+Abba. You’ve hastily said thank you, rolled your eyes at Nani when she prayed that you find a job and land a good boy soon, wished Ammi a happy birthday, and cut the call. Apart from the 1 hour call from Shriya, the other two calls must have barely lasted 3 minutes. It’s fine. The calls don’t matter much because it’s just a formality. The fact that all 3 groups call up so regularly and make that effort means more. Make sure to tell them how much it means to you some day. 

But for now, this letter was begun with the aim to note down exactly what all has happened in the last year of your life, to glean some sort of insights from it, and to apply it to your next year’s aspirations. Hopefully, you’ll continue to do this next year and the year after next, and it’ll become a quiet tradition of sorts, regardless of whether or not you’re spending your birthday with people (also dependent on Tumblr being active for that long, which, let's be honest, is not going to happen). I know the little pangs of loneliness are slowly setting in. I know it sucks that you’re most likely not going to leave your room tomorrow. But let’s start your year off on on an introspective note. 

This past year, you have: 

Had your first break up. You took the courage and the massive effort of breaking things off with the person that you genuinely saw yourself getting old with (engagement, marriage, taxes, kinds, houses, dogs, plants, grand kids, everything), because that future didn’t fit in with your Jigsaw (thank you Daniel Sloss). It is possibly the hardest thing you’ve done - not just having the break up, but evolving from it - getting used to life without him, building your own self reliance back up, getting used to your own unreasonable feelings and emotions, coming to terms with the fact that he has moved on and is very happy, coming to terms with the fact that SHE is very pretty and extremely exciting and that you would have loved to be her friend, coming to terms with what you now value in a person, what you value in a friend, and what you value in a best friend, and what you value in a boyfriend. This year, you have lost not just a boyfriend but also a best friend - and I'm not going to lie, it sucks major ass. But I hope that all those stories about things being mountains at close sight, and then being tiny little ant hills from far away, are actually true. And you’ll maybe learn the lesson to not fall so hard for someone next time. Or maybe not to make them your one and only best friend. You’ll find new Level 0s. I pray.

Come to terms with what your emotions are. You have wrestled with yourself at 4am in the night. You have cried tears of pain, remorse, regret, shame, disgust, self hatred, sadness, disappointment and fear. You have cried over him. You have cried over how badly you treat your parents. You have cried over how much you miss FLAME. You have cried over how much you miss your apartment. You have cried over how much you miss your parents. You have cried over how nothing really is working out and nothing is coming through - job wise. You have cried over the fear of having to go back to India in shame because you might land no jobs at all. But you’ve made it through and you’re learning how to cope with all these new emotions that you have zero control over. And at least now, your go to move isn’t to just squash them down and think fo something else. 

Had nearly 25 interview calls (Facebook, Curology (2), Via, Sokoglam (3), Shiseido, Estee lauder (3), Amazon, UM (2). Group M, Kapitus (2), Impetus (2), Uber (2), Common Bond (2)).  You’ve nearly perfected your pitch in interviews. You've learnt exactly what stories to bring around when people ask you certain questions. You’ve learnt the nuances and implications behind specific words and questions, and have learnt how to steer clear of mistakes and put a diplomatic answer. You have learnt how to speak some what slowly (still can be improved though), gotten comfortable with silence over the phone, learned how to modulate your voice and show interest in what the interviewer is saying, and bullshit on your feet. I hope it all adds up to something. 

Gone through an emotional rollercoaster with religion. Islam has never really made sense to you and you took a break of nearly 10 months from it. The break up had you bitter with the religion as a whole, but sobbing during namaz the first day you fasted in Ramzan and getting that sense of (somewhat) quiet peace after finishing it made you think of it a little more positively. Alhamdulillah. 

Become a plant mom to 7 absolute champs. They’re growing really well, and you've managed to keep them all alive through fall, winter, spring and now summer. Let’s buy more plants when you actually land a job. 

Learned how to be a proper adult. You’ve gone grocery shopping yourself, cookies, for yourself, scrubbed every inch of your bathroom (commode included thank you very much), washed every utensil, vacuumed every inch of the carpet and recycled whatever and whenever you can. You good. 

Improved your skin. Oh yeah. You skin has gone though a lot. Cystic acne. Shitty food. Changing climate. Sudden winter. Dry skin. Peeling skin. Changing skincare routines. But now it’s good. No active pimples. And it’s been like that for the last month or two and it’s great. You’ve still got hyperpigmentation, but that’s fine. That's you. It’ll heal too. Keep using The Ordinary’s Granactive Retinoid. That seems to be the secret. And continue drinking water. 

Graduated college. Not just any college but Columbia. Not just any course, but a course that is rooted in the ONE subject that you cried over in FLAME and vowed to never touch with a ten fool pole. Congrats. Not only have you managed to somehow fool everyone into thinking that you know something about Marketing, but you know how to use R and Python into helping your skills. Amazing. Honestly, 2017 Neha wouldn’t have believed this was possible at all. It’s crazy. 

Survived panic attacks. The Amazon call. The laptop crashes. The break up. You breathed. You got through it. 

Helped a friend possibly avoid suicide. Okay, maybe that’s a little too much - we don’t know if she would have. But she was showing the signs of depression and actually cutting herself. You picked up on it and did something about it. And now she’s back home, and hopefully in a better place. You should tell Shriya thank you for training you in this, because if it wasn't for her, you wouldn’t have ever realized. 

Hosted 6 people in your city. Paloma, Diksha, Somani, Ammi, Abba, June. As in NYC is your own city. Isn’t that crazy?

Went road tripping with Diksha. Almost got killed - Diksha drove for a solid 5 minutes in the night before realizing her head lights weren’t on. You could have possibly been road kill. Almost got pulled over. By a white ass cop with a hill billy accent who still had braces on. Pulled through. Lived above two hippy grandparents. Survived her friends. Wow. 

Travelled with a group of people you had absolutely ZERO mutual interests and knowledge of, and still managed to survive a week with them and made some good friends! You saw the world’s legit best companies and talked to people and tried making connections. You didn’t do the best job in the world in sustaining those connections, but you did your best. 

Did a solo trip in SF. You were scared. You lived in the worst place in SF - Tenderloin. But you goddamn walked everywhere. You got lost. You were sure you'd get murdered. Or stabbed. But you made it through and made a good friend from Korea. You stayed in a hostel. You ate clam chowder and walked across Seattle. You’re an independent traveller!

Interviewed at goddamn Facebook, Shiseido, Amazon, Estee Lauder, Uber. You wouldn’t have gotten these opportunities to even talk to a person from there. You’re very very lucky. 

Come clean to Ammi and Abba about drinking and smoking. Come clean to them about N. It was a pleasant surprise that they didn't freak out. You felt a LOT of regret that you broke up with N because you villainized them so much. But at least there are lesser secrets between you and them now. 

Did your own taxes. 

Earned your own money by TA-ing for a class.

Made friends with quite possibly the most multi cultural group you’ve met in years. Joanna, Hari, Gary, Joe, Anastasia, Charlie, Fabienne, Vinay. 

Still kept in good good touch with Paloma. Also caught up with Katya and Janith and Nidhi. Good on you for keeping in touch!

Improved your make up game. Not just make up but also skincare. But honestly, your contour and lip sticks are so much better now. Thank you Ipsy and Colour Pop. 

Volunteered at AdWeek. All by yourself. Made friends there. 

Went to a concert by Alessia Cara. For free!

Had an amazingly horrible hangover in NY, by puking 12 times into the dustbin next to your bed. Still managed to not puke outside your apartment. 

Took care of your very very drunk friend. Prioritized her and taking care of her, over talking to N, even though you thought that it was possibly the day you two would get back together. That was the day you were the most excited about in a very long time. I think you were less excited during graduation. Oh well. Next relationship. 

Denied a present from Abba. This isn't really big to others, but I think it’s good that I really mean that I will buy my own self a phone with my own pay check. Maybe not an iPhone. They're getting expensive. Maybe a OnePlus. 

Cut down your plastic use. You’re still using plastic. You haven't hit zero. But you’re making mindful efforts to use steel straws, use handmade shopping bags instead of plastic bags for groceries, reuse containers, and recycle your cosmetics with Terracycle. 

Seen a guy pull out a real life gun in front of you. Thought on your feet and picked the safest option. Life changing. 

Fucked up a barely 1 year old laptop. By dropping coffee on it. How fucking ridiculous. Good going, klutz. 

Learnt how to cut back a bit and not be such a control freak in projects. 

Let Ammi and Abba a little bit more into your lives. You’ve come clean, yes. But you've also called them up more when you're upset and have told them what you're worried about. You've called up Abba for advice and have fought with him and have sent him logical letters explaining your stance. You didn't do that before.

Gotten closer with Amina. You’ve listened to her stories about that fuck all ass wipe Nathan. You’ve given her advice and explained what not to do. You’ve helped her with her own college decision troubles and advised her on which path to take. 

Started doing Yoga. Somewhat. Can be improved though. Maybe mix in some exercise in between?

Gotten used to your own company. You still cry every so often when you feel lonely. This year has been especially lonely - possibly at par with 5/6th grade when you were at your being-bullied-peak. But still. You’re surviving and that’s a plus. 

Gotten the worst grade of your life. Multivariate Statistics. HP-. Despite working very hard. And you were absolutely okay with it. 

Brough random people happiness. Irshad Daftari. Reshmi. Ashna. Shimul. Ashvita. Saumya. Joanna.

Started wearing heels! You never thought you’d be a heel person - much less a regular heel person. Your black boots! They look great and make you feel great too. 

Started wearing a handbag. And your hand bag taste is pretty great, if I saw so myself.

Gotten yelled at by a delivery man for being too stingy with a tip. Apologized profusely to him. Then got angry later because he expected a $5 tip on a $13 meal?????????????? Bro???? Who do you think I am??????

Gotten cat called. A lot. Walked right on by. 

Gotten hit on. Gotten grinded (ground?) upon. Remember how much you hated it and how much you loathed yourself and how much you missed N? You also pulled away from a guy who was about to kiss you. Oh well. Maybe your soul mate will grind on you randomly one day and you’ll be like woah, grinding is amazing. 

Tried Baileys and Barefoot Moscato! Yum. Go-to drinks now. 

Tried meditating. Honestly tried it. Found out that it wasn’t really for you, but it’s okay. 

Started painting again. You've lost touch and are a bit rusty. But it’s fine. You like painting water and plants. Tomorrow, paint some more stuff. 

Almost fell for and signed up for a Victoria’s Secret credit card. My god, thank  god you didn't. Then, you also helped Abba not fall for a TJ Maxx credit card. These things are tricky. But you’re learning from your mistakes. Good. 

Gotten mistaken for being Spanish. Gotten mistaken for being Mexican. Gotten mistaken for being Middle Eastern. Gotten mistaken for being Bangaladeshi. Still managed to find a way to help all those people go in the right direction though. 

There are a lot more and maybe I’ll remember more and add more in the day. But you’ve done so many things this past year that you never thought you would have. I’m very proud of what you’ve learnt and how much you’ve grown. Next year, let’s hope my letter is filled with complaints about how intense my job is and how I’m making so much money, I don’t know what to do with it all. And maybe a cat. And finally returning to being sustainably happy being by yourself. 

#thoughts #ignore

[thelonewolfforeternity]

Catholic Mismatch

Two years into my loner lifestyle and somehow I was getting a little lonely of being single at one point. And there’s that old saying “when in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Now, I didn’t really want to be born in the millennial age. I’ve always admired those who came before because they have to work to get their way up. Most of the big companies of today are the result of the old men on top. Were they millennials? Nope! They were hard working men. Millennials are just spoiled pieces of shits. And just because they live in the digital age, where things are instant (which were the results of the hard work of those who came before), they assume that things in life also comes in an instant. Instant money, instant luxury. Let’s face it, some were lucky enough to be living so. Some were born with golden spoon on their mouth, some have to work their way up. And because I’m straying from my topic at hand (meh, who cares, this is my rant wall anyways) I’ll start with the next unfortunate event. Now what led me to the rants and non-sense complaints about millennials is because I’ve tried their way of life ……. and it sucks. One of the most interesting inventions of this age is instant dating or as people call it Online dating sites. The idea of these dating sites is like this: First, you need to download the application through your smart phone. You sign up with your details and your photo, you tell something about yourself and then you will enter into a pool. Through the power of the internet, the site will suggest profiles according to your preferences. Swipe right if you like the profile and swipe left if you’d like to pass. (did I really had to explain this shit at all?? Oh well…. \_(-_-)_/ ).

And because I believe I was a practicing Catholic, I chose a dating site that has “Catholic” in it. Yep, you guessed it right: Catholic Match. With just a few days, I met with someone on CM, and because I’d spoil the life lesson in this unfortunate event, I’d skip a few matters here and I will add them in the latter part of this blog. So her name is Jessica. She’s a graduate from a State University which would mean that she’s a brainer, she’s pretty (I think), she’s a practicing Catholic, infact a choir member at that, she works as a Nutritionist-Dietitian (yikes!). If I have a check list, I’ll be checking quite a lot for my ideal girl. Funny thing tho was I also chatted with her….wait for it……. twin sister!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUCKING HILARIOUS. She had a twin and I almost fuckin hit on them both. Terrible luck bro.

The first time we met was in a Japanese Restaurant and we had a bowl of Ramen. It’s was strange because it was the same place of my last date with my ex (no not the one in Ermita I’ve never took her there, this was in Rob Manila) (too distasteful to even mention her name). And so we did with the introductions, she’s one of those NBSB or No Boyfriend Since Birth. And my then buddy Feb , was giving me the “okay go bro.” and was explaining how NBSBs are better than those who had relationships before. It was because NBSBs had no “comparison point” because they never had intimate relationship. We talked about a lot of things, like my recent ex, how come she’s still single and the whole what are you looking for thing.

One thing I learned about this episode is you can always pretend to be someone you’re not and be real good at it and in the end, it doesn’t really work. And by the time I realized, it was too late. Well, I already gave you the foreshadow (that and like I said, there’s no happy in any episode ending here).

After that we texted, like, a lot. Every morning I would think of something witty to say or something romantic to make her smile. I never did this shit before to anyone (and I fucking hate it btw because eww cringe) but I stayed to my character. I was playing a wholesome, religious, caring, and sweet suitor. We would go to movies with her sisters (with the twin, for the love of all good, life must really hate me). So I tried to impress them with my “film knowledge” in cinematography, foreshadowing, juxtapositioning and all that shit. But what I noticed is her twin was a tough audience, highly sarcastic and felt like she wanted to bury me (not literally, or maybe a little). We went on a few more dates and it lasted like 1 or 2 months. I would go to Mass where she would sing for the choir. She was part of this youth group called “Singles for Christ”. I didn’t really know what was in there until I eventually did a little research. So from what I learned, they are the “Catholic” Charismatic Christians. Yes, with all those worship songs that sound like it was written by Justin Bieber. Fun fact: I detest that kind of worship because true worship came from the soul, not emotions. Even then I still courted here, even made a Audio Video Presentation for her Charismatic group, I began with controlling my diet and coffee and even started working out (which was the last thing I would do). And so, like I said, I pretended even though I saw the signs. Her face? Not my type. Personality? Not my type. Voice? Not my type. Her way of expressing faith. NOT MY TYPE. So if I would say it in simpler terms, I was forcing my preference.

I still went on with her, ate with her in restaurants I never knew, watched films that we thought was good. I brought her fruits when she got sick. I brought her all I could find. I drew edgy caricatures and wrote cringy romantic bullshits which I hope that she would burn to crisps by now. Both her parents are Civil Engineers, so it’s a high hurdle to be honest. But I didn’t care because I affixed my mind that I’m it. I can be her boyfriend. I talked to her about the existentialism crap that was always in my head, and I bet she never understood shit at all. Still, I stood on my ground.

Until one night, after all the charade that we’ve done, I invited her to a shawarma Joint, near her workplace. And  after we ate, she was silent but I never really noticed. Infact, to be completely honest, I realized that I wasn’t seeing her as who she was but her as my make shift idea of my preferences. The whole point, I just believed I liked her even though I didn’t. Still, that night after the dinner, her eyes became teary and she began with “I’m sorry”. From then I knew what was up. She was was about to dump me. So I braced myself, I listened to her and asked her the reason why. I asked but I knew the answer. She couldn’t give me  a response except “I don’t know, I just feel like it just isn’t it”. Like I said, I knew because I felt the same. Only for me, it was clearer. She had her ideals and she stuck with it. I knew by the way she talked, the way she acted, the way she expressed. I wasn’t going to be it. I even knew she was expecting someone better looking and had better job than me. Because she came from a university and somehow I feel like she knew I was pretending.

After that, I walked her home and that was it. Oh, and she asked the “can we still be friends?” and obviously, I hate that bullshit so I had to say “No”. After that I messaged Feb “Dumped bro.”, but at that time she had a boyfriend already which I wrote in my previous blog “Double B” so she wasn’t there when I needed a friend (boyfriend before bros. man, you knew that).

After I got home, my older brother was there with my older sister’s boyfriend. They were watching TV when I came inside and I sat with them. My  brother asked me what was up. I just smiled so they thought there was nothing new. Then before I realized, my eyes were already tearing up. So I know you’d say: “Wait, I thought you said you really didn’t like her that much?”. Yep, you’re right. Then why was I crying, you may ask? I felt inadequate. I felt worthless. I felt unlovable. I felt like I was  too hideous to love. My brother sits beside me, hugs me and pats my head. I said with my broken voice “I was rejected again…. Will I ever be enough for anyone?” Emotions were overflowing in me. But my brother just held me as the I sobbed silently. And after I calmed a little bit, my brother continued with these words : “Time will come, and you will meet someone who will be able to accept you for who you are, and if that day never comes, we are here. We are your family, we love you for who you are and who you wish to become.”

That night, I went on a beer session with my brother and my sister’s boyfriend. I thought to myself, to hell with other people. I have people who loves me without me pretending or putting any effort. And this is more than enough whether or not someone will fall inlove with me in the future.

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

All Aboard “The Insulin Express”! (New Book Review with Giveaway)

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/all-aboard-the-insulin-express-new-book-review-with-giveaway/

All Aboard “The Insulin Express”! (New Book Review with Giveaway)

From CNN Jerusalem correspondent Oren Liebermann comes a new type of diabetes book – part travel log, part chronic disease memoir – that traces his story of low-budget trekking around the world, with a life-changing diagnosis of type 1 diabetes along the way.

Rich and humorous, “The Insulin Express” (just published May 2) resonated with me in a way no other diabetes book has since Jim Hirsch’s 2006 Cheating Destiny -- another smart, witty narrative about a journalist’s “journey of discovery” of life with diabetes.

But Oren’s book is really about what he wanted to do with his life – travel the world – and how diabetes crash-bombed that. (Not to worry, our hero prevails!)

After Oren and his new wife Cassie scour world maps, cobble together a budget, quit their jobs and confront his reluctant family, they’re off and running for a planned full year of travel through Europe, Israel, Southeast Asia, South America and eventually Iceland.

Right from the very first plane boarding, his wry sense of humor pulls you in:

“I had imagined what it would be like to see American soil for the last time as our flight from Philly International arches out over New Jersey and then the Atlantic. I would see the light of the cities—first the City of Brotherly Love, then the Big Apple. I would see the crooked line of the Jersey Shore, inching its way north-northeast...

“That, as it turns out, was a pipe dream. Bereft of both the pipe and the necessary herbal ingredients to place within its hollowed out interior, I have only my view from the middle seat. The window shade to my left, with four people and an aisle between us, has already been closed by an elderly woman who seems to be in complete denial of the fact that she is on an airplane that is about to leave the relatively safe confines of Philadelphia, never mind the fact that you’re almost always safer not being in Philadelphia. The window shade to my right is open, but all I can see past my rotund companion is a section of wing.”

Dr. Gupta and ADA Endorsements

The book's Foreword is provided by famous neurosurgeon and CNN Chief Medical Correspondent Dr. Sanjay Gupta, who wisely mentions that physicians "rarely get a full appreciation of the incredible story and background that brought the patient to us in the first place."

He describes the book as "an anatomy of an illness that leaves (Oren) with the option of possibly dying in a dusty remote Nepalese clinic or coming out the other side stronger and more inspired than before." And he observes: "We will all have challenges in our lives, even the most blessed among us. It is not the challenge upon which we will reflect in our later years, however, but how we behaved in the face of those obstacles. And, for that, Oren has valuable lessons to share with all his readers."

You will also note the American Diabetes Association (ADA) logo on the book's cover. Apparently the author approached the ADA to see if they would be interested in publishing The Insulin Express. They weren't, but someone at the organization put him in touch an agent who helped connect him with Skyhorse Publishing.

Still, ADA remained interested in the supporting the book, so they signed on as "co-sponsors" and added an 8-page information section at the end that covers basics of type 1, carb counting, travel tips, etc.

Half of the proceeds from The Insulin Express will go to the ADA.

When I asked Oren about JDRF involvement, he said he had approached them early on, but never got a response.

Seeing the World

Chapters 1-10 escort the reader through Poland, Kenya, Israel, Thailand and Nepal, with colorful descriptions of the most memorable sites and experiences. Throughout the book, we hear about everything from stargazing in Argentina to celebrating the Songkan festival in Laos (“like a city-wide water fight with alcohol”) to taking a contraband “backstage” tour of the Great Wall of China.

My feeling was this book could also double as a low-budget food guide, as Oren has a penchant for detailing their cuisine choices in every destination. (Hat tip: Mexican food is not recommended outside of its country of origin or ours.)

Getting to the Diabetes

I have to admit, by this point I was getting a little antsy about the diabetes – which does not make an appearance until Chapter 11 (the irony!)

Along the way, Oren keeps teasing the reader with hints of what’s coming, especially during his and Cassie’s monster hike in the Himalayas. You’re just sure he’s going to keel over and go into DKA at the highest mountain peak, but no… he marches on…

And when the diagnosis finally happens, on Valentine’s Day when he and Cassie are teaching English at a Buddhist monastery, he suddenly recognizes the Denial Factor. Of course he knew something was wrong, but just didn’t want to see the warning signs. So it comes as a shock that rocks him to his core, yet even still embraced with humor:

“I firmly believe that doctors should keep a small but well-trained staff of short people around to kick patients in the nuts before major diagnoses to soften the second blow by focusing on the first.”

By this point he’s lost 45 lbs and is barely able to function. He lands in a local clinic that turns out to be frighteningly incompetent, and is forced to fly to Katmandu a week later to get decent treatment. Whew! A couple of personal notes:

As someone also diagnosed with LADA (latent autoimmune diabetes in adults) in my 30s, I can so relate to that feeling that you were “whole” and had a life you enjoyed, and suddenly that’s all being stripped away…

And yet, for anyone who’s been insulin-dependent for a decade or longer, it’s sometimes hard to endure the naiveté of the newly dx’ed. Yes, it’s T1D. Yes, it can be dangerous. Yes, you are going to be OK.

I want a Cassie! If Oren’s descriptions of his wife are unexaggerated, she represents the absolute model “Type 3” supporter made in heaven! Other than D-parents, I’ve never heard of a loved one being so integrally involved in every carb count and calculation of a PWD. She’s a keeper, my Friend!

Emotionally Draining

The second bullet point above not withstanding, I truly appreciate Oren’s descriptions of his feelings of devastation and how he sobbed uncontrollably at some points – not always easy for men to admit.

I believe this sends an important message about the psychosocial impact of diagnosis with a chronic illness – one of the HUGE challenges no one ever talked about until recent years. I hope anyone in the medical profession reading this book doesn’t brush Oren off as a softie, but rather sees someone hitting a perfectly normal and incredibly common mental wall, and just being brutally honest about it.

“While the body recovers, so, too, must the soul,” he writes.

Family Dynamics

Did I mention the author talks a lot about his loud, meddling Jewish family that he clearly loves dearly? This is some of the most entertaining stuff in the book, IMHO.

My personal fave is the part when he first calls home (pre-diagnosis) to say he isn’t feeling well, and he and his parents get into a shouting match (yes, actually SHOUTING) about who is more remiss in taking care of themselves. They are convinced that’s he’s gravely ill, and he’s angry that they’ve become inactive and overweight.

Later, he’s the one who has to eat crow, sending an email about his T1D diagnosis:

Subject: I have never been more wrong

I apologize to all of you for the massive attitude I gave you. I will apologize in person when I see you again. But we’re Orens—arguments are what we do.

So bittersweetly funny! (Waving to my own Jewish mom 😉 )

Useful D-Bits

The good thing about journalists writing books about diabetes is that they do it so well.

There are some snippets here describing key disease constructs that are well worth copying off or emailing to interested friends and family. In particular, look for:

“A bit of history about the Big D” in Chapter 13

“The millimolar” in Chapter 18

His description of the A1C in Chapter 24

Eff You, Diabetes

Oren describes world travel and hiking as the loves of his life (besides Cassie of course). And like many before him, he has an iron resolve not to let diabetes get in the way.

And that he surely does not. It was impressive to hear that when they broke off their trip to fly to the U.S. after diagnosis, they actually only stayed home for a month. Yep, 31 days respite, a little diabetes education, a whole load of supplies, and they’re back on the move again!

So by Chapter 13 we’re back to a travel log, taking us through Laos, Cambodia, Viet Nam, Hong Kong and later Iceland.

As Oren tells it, deciding whether it was OK to travel with newly diagnosed diabetes wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was convincing his family, which went something like this:

“You can’t leave yet. You’re not ready! Traveling with diabetes is different, and you don’t know how to do it!”

“Of course it’s different! It will always be different! I will never learn how to travel with diabetes while staying at home not traveling with diabetes.”

He’s just not stopping and that’s that.

At one point he quips: “To my pancreas: I’ll see you in hell. Quitter.”

“Coming to Terms with My Disease”

Oren admits that pre-diagnosis, he ate way too much candy and drank a whole lot of chocolate milk. Changing those habits is never fun. He also realizes that returning from travel means pressure to find a job with excellent health benefits (that works out unexpectedly well when he lands at CNN).

And in the epilogue, he shares that he and Cassie welcomed a beautiful healthy daughter, Noa Lillian, on June 2, 2016. He worries that she will have an increased risk of developing diabetes, and blames himself for that. Not your fault Oren, none of us asked for this!

They say the day you become a parent is your last worry-free day, but that counts for diabetes x2, does it not?

I appreciate how Oren writes about the nonstop nature of T1D and how he’s “slowly learning each day.”

“Yet none of that—none of the injections and blood sugar checks—keeps me from enjoying every moment of every day. It will take a bit more time, but I am coming to terms with my disease,” he writes.

That’s a journey we all can relate to. Thanks to Oren for sharing his witty and insightful POV in this compelling new book.

The Insulin Express is currently available on Amazon in hard cover for $15.84 and on Kindle for just over $14.

But before you buy, want to win a free copy from us?

A DMBooks Giveaway

Thanks to Oren, we're giving away THREE FREE COPIES of The Insulin Express. Here's how to enter:

1. Post your comment below, including the codeword "DMBooks" to let us know you'd like to enter. Or you can email us at [email protected] with the subject header, "Insulin Express."

2. You have until next Friday, May 12, 2017, at 5 p.m. PST to enter.

3. Winners will be chosen using Random.org.

4. Winners will be announced on Facebook and Twitter, so make sure you're following us!And please be sure to keep tabs on your email and/or Facebook inbox, as that's how we contact our winners. (If winners don't respond within a week, we select alternates.)

We'll update this post to let you all know who the lucky winners are.

Good luck, D-Travel Fans!

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

Type 2 Diabetes Treatment Type 2 Diabetes Diet Diabetes Destroyer Reviews Original Article

#Diabetes Mellitus

[sashaynwhistle]

This is such a great piece by Gayatri Jayaraman (BuzzFeed Contributor, India). There’s an underground dance bar in Santacruz West where I saw a former national-level beauty pageant contestant perform. According to the person who took me there, she began working there when she was looking for a Bollywood break. To land roles, she needed to be seen on red carpets and at parties, for which she needed heels and dresses. While acting gig after acting gig fell through, the dance bar turned out to be so lucrative, it became her primary vocation. I know a young marketing executive who bought a car with her first salary and now sleeps in it. Between rent and loan repayments, she was starting to starve. I won’t tell you where she parks, but thank god Mumbai is still safe. Then there’s my junior journalist friend. For a period, she was coming into work less often. And she was growing thinner. She insisted it was because she was jogging every evening. When she started to disappear at lunch time, or nurse a cold coffee all day, I knew. (I didn’t miss the signs, because I’ve done it too.) I WhatsApped her. It was the only way to be discreet. “Do you have enough money for a meal?” She didn’t. She explained that when she did, she’d wait to go to Le Pain Quotidien and pay ₹200 for a sandwich. After 6pm, the day’s stock is discounted. The office canteen offered meals all day that she could afford, but eating was a lower priority than keeping up the appearance that she could, when she chose to, do it at Le Pain Quotidien. These are the urban poor. Objectively and relative to a vast majority of Indians, they aren’t “poor” at all. But they’re certainly hungry and broke a lot. These are the metro-dwelling twentysomethings who’ve internalised the pressures surrounding them, and spend a majority of their salaries on keeping up the lifestyles and appearances that they believe are essential to earning those salaries. The expenses that rack up are notionally non-negotiable: the clothes and the grooming, the bar nights and office dinners, the Olas and Ubers you have to take because you’re networking until 1am, the Starbucks coffee you have to buy because that’s where your job interview is. The heels and the dresses. As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month, they concede that the math may not work today, but they hold on to hope that it will work out in the end; when that increment comes, when the promotion arrives, when Dad sends a little extra one month. Their influences are not difficult to spot. Their startup economy’s success stories are of entrepreneurs who spent VC money to create their own wealth, who spent every paisa immediately to multiply each into a rupee. The stories they hear are of Mukesh Ambani, who inherited an empire and built a very expensive home, instead of Dhirubhai, who lived in a very small home and built a very big empire. They read about Katrina Kaif’s hair costing ₹50 lakh to dye correctly. They internalise the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it. For admission to good colleges, we spend uninhibitedly on tuitions. For job placements, we throw savings at GMATs and MBAs. For promotions, we spend on suits and drinks. We dress for the jobs we want, forgetting that most salaries are tailored to afford dressing for the jobs we have. Every newspaper and media house has it in neon lights: how you need to eat, look, and dress to be successful. Where you need to vacay, what you need to smell like, what car you should probably drive. But they don’t tell you how to pay for any of it. What we’re left with is a flood of twentysomethings running hard to leave behind roti-sabzi for a perception of burger-coke. From there, they sprint with equal abandon toward the cheese-champagne. When I first moved out on my own 15 years ago, my salary was ₹10,000. My rent was ₹4,000, my creche fee was ₹4,000, and I spent the remaining ₹2,000 on my commute and electricity. I used my credit card for groceries. And, because I was 25 and my son was 1 and sometimes you need ice cream, or a movie, or to be able to laugh at life, I used my credit card to do those things too. By the time I moved to a higher-paying job, I had a maxed-out credit card to pay off. I had spent all the money I was about to earn. I quickly learned that with each salary hike, the price of earning it goes up. While in my first job I’d gotten away with rotating three tops with one pair of jeans, more advanced roles brought the need for better clothes. I was asked to “grow up”. Then a lunch here, a happy hour there, a meeting at a high-end coffee shop. I worked hard to defy the circumstances conspiring to push young professionals into bankruptcy. I did the mental math of each outing before committing to it. I got only one beer and drank it slowly all night. Now, at any table, I can easily spot the person verging on broke: the vegetarian who didn’t eat any starters, the teetotaller who drank only water, the junior who pretended she already ate dinner, no thanks. And when, after all that, someone else casually suggests divvying up the bill equal parts, you recognise theirs as the faces that fall. You don’t say no because not only might you cry, you’d also look cheap. I’ve been there. You don’t say no because not only might you cry, you’d also look cheap. So, regardless of whether you can really afford the drinks and appetisers you intentionally didn’t have, you sometimes suck it up and pay for them. Later, you count coins. You pull ₹1 out of the sofa corner. You wait until everyone’s out of sight and then you board a bus home. Now, I make it a point to stop my younger colleagues and ask: Have you eaten? Can I buy you a coffee? Are you walking home? Need a lift? Sometimes, they stay strong and pass on the offer. Other times, their facade crumbles and they nod. Their parents, subscribers to a new-age refusal to openly discuss finances, taught them that no expense is too much for their happiness and mobility. Now, in phone calls, when Dad asks if he should send more money, they say it’s fine, everything’s under control. Yes, eating well. Yes, all good at work. Raised by parents who sacrificed everything for their comforts, a whole generation is nonetheless learning discomfort quietly. People who survive this stuff get called “strong” all the time. Strong is just a quiet hunger and a stifled sob. Most days, I think I’ve put that time behind me. Recently, I was at an interview when the person I was speaking to stopped me in the middle of my question. “Babe, my driver has a better phone than you,” she laughed. “Buy an iPhone, for Chrissakes!” I’m better dressed now. I own my home. I have an actual bank balance. But the humiliation rushed back like the last 10 years never happened. Last month, I began tweeting about this particular brand of urban poverty, and watched an outpouring of “me too”s. One person confessed that for three years in Germany, he ate only tomatoes, saving money so he could buy his family chocolates when he went home. Someone else said “everything’s fine!” on long-distance phone calls to justify his mother having sold her bangles for his move abroad. Someone sleeps on a single mattress and stashes sneakers under his desk so he can walk home 8km from work every night. I got stories about marketing guys who starve all day to buy one coffee at a five-star hotel. About a father who hasn’t taken vacation days in 13 years to be able to pay for an international education for his child. We’d rather spend a lot to appear full than spend a little bit to buy food. Someone survived on water all day and hitched rides on trucks to get through university. Someone got called a miser for not eating out. In a country where genuine hunger is ubiquitous, this brand of it comes via lifestyle choices. Somehow, we’ve built a culture that places such immense value in appearances that we’d rather spend a lot to appear full than spend a little bit to buy food. The hunger has touched different people differently – briefly or permanently, lightly or severely, maybe once or maybe over and over again. But once you’ve felt it, it’s indelible, marking you forever as a member of a tribe that understands what’s going on when someone starts bringing their own lunch to work one day, starts losing weight, starts spending nights at the office to avoid paying for the commute. If you’ve felt that hunger, even briefly, even a long time ago, you see it everywhere you look.

The Urban Poor You Haven’t Noticed: Millennials Who’re Broke, Hungry, But On Trend.

Too many young professionals have internalised the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it.

#uhhuhhoney