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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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House of Mouse: Mickey and the Culture Clash (Commission by WeirdKev27) or “What the Hell, Clarabelle?”

Hello, hello, hello... I wish I could say I was in good spirits but i’m tired, have covid induced chills running down my spine.. and oh yeah there was an armed insurrection i the captial last night that showed just how broken this country was. And while Monster Bash would still be relevant... I couldn’t do it. I admit to being unable to do an episode where the millitant racist nutjob who harms people runs off into the night, and does much worse in later episodes, while the people she harassed are arrested the night after a bunch of millitant, racist, sociopathic, selfish nightmares sieged the captial, killed a woman, raised the fucking maga flag over the buildling and took pictures like they were goddamn heroes. We got a stark reminder, not a wake up call, not an opening a REMINDER of just how badly broken our country is last night, and it wasn’t till this morning I found out just how BAD it was. The deaths, the flag, the fact josh fucking hawley, MY STAT’ES SENATOR and registered piece of shit, raised A FUCKING FIST IN SOLIDARITY, which gives me the crippling fear his stupidity and unabashed racisim and support of a cou could mean riots at best and attempted uprisings at worst and who knows what kind of hate crimes against those of color and those in my own queer community. I am afraid, tired, and I am pissed and I feel we could ALL use something wholesome, warm and far removed from the shit going on. And in my hour of need to figure out something like that to put on the schedule.. Kev brought up a wonderfufl idea. Every month this month till the end of it Kev is going to comission one episode of a show near and dear to both our hearts that has it’s 20th birthday this month. House of Mouse. He was intitally going to request Pete’s One Man Show, which is one of my faviorites, but was ironcially one I already planned to cover next month to celebrate both the show’s anniversary and Pete’s Birthday. But since he was happy to wait till then to comission it, he instead asked for another classic and one with easily my faviorite character on the show: Moritmer Mouse.

One of the best things House of Mouse did was bring back Mortimer Mouse. Introduced in Mickey’s Rival, Mortimer was an ex of minnies who showed up for one short to be a dick to mickey before running off and leaving Minnie at the mercy of a bull he pissed off. He also weirdly kept electrodes and a car battery in his pants. The short itself is.. not great mostly because Minnie dimissies Mickey rightfully being pissed someone is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him, making jokes at his expense, and generally being a pillock as being jealous... which yeah, yeah he is. Most of the time jealousy and supscison of your partner is ugly, gross and damaging to a relationship. You should trust them unless you’ve been given good reason not to, and if your paranoidly jealous about every friend she has she could be attracted to.. get some fucking help. Seriously, I need to, not for this for various other problems, but get some therapy to help with your trust issues or if your just being the kind of dick who naturally assumes men and women or men and men or women and women or men and nonibinary persons, or women and nonbinary peeps and so on and so on cannot be friends if they could possibly be togehter romantically... grow up. I say all of that because those are serious underlying issues and I didn’t want it to seem like for a moment I was supporting them... and because sometimes i’ts OKAY to be jealous, to either just feel a little jealous of someone, or to you know be irate because your girlfriend’s ex is hitting on her in front of you and she’s being entirely receptive to it.

So yeah i’ts really hard to feel bad for minnie’s bull attack or find the ending sweet after Minnie was you know, what ramona said for an entire short. However my point for this rant, besides giving out about the short again because I clearly didn’t enough in my Mickey Birthday Special, is that Mortimer is still pretty great. He’s a frat bro in the 40′s sense sure, but the idea of a local douche hoping to swoop in and woo minnie away, who has an oddly specific sense of humor and a bizzare, memorable and wonderful walk, seriously the short is worth watching for mortimier’s “I got two car batteris in my pants’ walk, is a good one. While he’d naturally show up in comics and what have you Mortimer just sort of vanished. But clearly someone on the House of Mouse staff, and Mousewerks before it, agreed because Morty was made easily one of the best and most recurring characters in the HOM, and often more prominent than Horace or Gus. While he still tried his old “I’m gonna do your common law wife act” a few times he was mostly there to be an annoying douche when the ep needed one and to be taken down a peg by everyone in the house. And that VERY MUCH includes Mickey. That’s also part of why I love this show bringing him back: It gives Mickey someone besides pete to give out too on a regular basis. He’s still his charming self about it but it’s lovelyt os ee Mickey sarcastically roast someone. And I honestly attribute the main factor of his sucess on the show to VA Maurice LaMarche. While his original VA, Sonny Dawson, was fantastic.. it’s Maurice who very clearly made the character his. While others like Jeff Bennet have taken over since i’ts Maurice who gave him his signature “ha-cha-cha” catchphrase, swagger and signiture voice. And no i’ts not lost on me that one of Maurice’s OTHER best roles is another cartoon mouse.. and I now very badly want him to meet Pinky and the Brain. But yeah, Maurice just oozes the smarm that defines mortimer for me, oozes condescinon and assholery and he, is., glorious. He was a faviorite as a kid, he’s a faviorite now, and Disney needs to use him more.. and also have Maurice voice him for wonderufl world of mickey mouse, though Jeff Bennett is not bad at all I just prefer the master at the role.

So obviously, after the nightmare of an evening america had yesterday, an episode not only about how wholesome mickey and minnie are but about Mickey teaming up with Mortimer was EXACTLY what i needed. So pitter patter, this is Mickey and the Culture clash. As always for house of mouse i’ll be chonking it up and since this one starts right with the wraparound, and sicnce you know I spent a godo few pagraphs going over mortimer and he’s only IN the wraparound this episode... let’s start there

Mickey and the Culture Clash: Don’t Go Changin, To Try and Please Me So we open the episode and the review proper with Mickey performing a banjo sernade for Minnie, their song in fact. It’s a really sweet scene.. that’s quickly ruined by Clarabelle being an asshole, who says i’ts a bit crude. Minnie counters that while “It’s not mozart”, it’s nice and she clearly likes it and the gesture. Instead of you know leaving it there like a good friend, like she’s SUPPOSED to be to Minnie in most continuities, Clarabelle.. takes the things she said and her having to run out to wrangle pluto out of context, painting it as her thinking he’s not sophisticated and then running out because of it. Oh and she tops it by pointing to a classified add from a MM looking for sophisticated companionship.

It just paints Clarabelle not as Minnie’s friend or a chatty gossip, but as a heartless bitch who has no trouble implying one of her best friends would cheat on her boyfriend TO HIS FACE, and is fine wrecking a perfectly lovely relationship just to have more to talk about. Seriously she starts gossiping to everybody on top of it just in case you thought Clarabelle was a decent person in any shape this episode. She’s the one thing about this episode that dosen’t work despite being integral to it.. well two but hte other thing is a small, end of episode gag we’ll get to. This.. this is an integral part of the plot. It also relies on Daisy and Donald being absent for the episode for what I can only assume is their annual sex decathalon because otherwise the second she heard about her friend doing this, before reassuring Minnie, Donald would be holdiing her while Daisy beat the absolute shit out of her for hurting thier closest friend and not bothering to take a look into anything when leveling such a rough accusation at Minnie. In a really stellar, really well paced episode, Clarabelle being so heartless stands out. It’s also, might as well get this out of the way, teh final episode not inlcuding the two holiday specials.. and it’s a good note to go out on otherwise, I just can’t ignore the obnoxious cow in the room.. in both senses of the word.

So yeah Mickey’s trying to be fancy, and Mortimer gets a good dig in about him reading “You having trouble sounding out the words”, but once he hears what’s going on, or rather once he realizes mickey things Mortimer’s personal add is in fact his girlfriend cheating on him, he decides to help Mickey. And to his credit for this con.. Mortimer actually thought things out on how to trick his rival, and his plan here is douchey as hell but incredibly genius: he offers to help mickey and while that’d normally be suspcious he offers a genuine, and very mortimer explination for helping him become a bit more sophisticated to win minnie back: if Minnie finds a handsome, sophisticated guy to date, what chance does MORTIMER have against that? At least with Mickey, in his deluded egocentric view of things anyway, he has a shot at beating him.

So Mickey classes it up a bit, taking some sopshitcated stances when announcing and trying to woo minnie by talking in ye olde english. When that fails, she just finds it silly but charming, Mickey finds Jose.. hitting on her.

Just.. I expect better from you man. Woo ladies all you like as long as your respectful but I expect better than to hit on someone else’s girlfriend.. which granted he has but given the last time we saw him do that, he nearly got stabbed a bunch and the last time he agressively hit on a woman he got punched in the beak as he should, you’d THINK he’d of learned something. Seriously once again Donald is only missing because this time Daisy would be holding Jose down while Donald hit him. Or possibly they’d take turns. Point is Jose REALLY shoudln’t be doing this and knows better.. marginally. But.. it is in character enough so ti’s not as bad as Clarabelle the homewrecker.

So Mickey tries being fancy and goes on to do poetry instead of letting O’Malley and the Alley Cats play.. which is a nice running gag the series does as they NEVER get to play.. which while funny is a shame since I love the Aristocats. So then we finally get what Mortimer’s been playing at, he swoops in, claims MICKEY dosen’t need HER, and uses the same personal add to trick her. See, while what Mortimer’s doing is vile.. unlike clarabelle I can repsect it at least. I don’t condone it and i’m glad he gets foiled.. but as a bad guy plan it’s pretty clever and for someone like Mortimer whose usually pretty incompitent.. it’s pretty suprising he could pull this off. It’s still pretty damn low and scummy, no question, but props to being able to outwit and nearly outplay two people who deal with your crap on a regular basis and still convincingly conning both. Thankfully while he tries to take Minnie out Mickey, in a great visual gag, puts two and two together, and busts out their song, with Mickey and Minnie heartwearmingly reuniting on stage as seen above. Then we get that gag I mentioned not liking: Mickey gets Morty back by planting a false marriage proposal from Moritmer to Clarabelle, again under MM and he gets carried off.. HAHA HE’S BEING FORCED INTO A MARRIAGE HE DOSEN’T. LAUGH. LAUGH AT IT. The gag just really hasn’t aged well, as otherwise it’s clever Mickey used Mortimer’s own trick against both him and the person who caused all of this but really.. Clarabelle gets no real compuance. At worse sshe finds out she was tricked.. but she again you know tried to break up her close friends relationship for shits and giggles. But .. it’s at the very end of the episode and very easy to ignore, so it dosen’t really bother me too bad, and compared to some gags of the type i’ve seen, it could be MUCH worse. Overall this wraparound is one of the series best and a good one to go out on. it has a simple premise, a brilliant antagonist plot, some great bits from all involved, and even a great Belle and Beast cameo. All in all a really good wraparound only hampered by a sexist and dated ending and Clarabelle being portrayed as ...

She’s the worst, in the world. Okay onto the shorts.

Mickey’s Piano Lesson: That was a Fun One

It really was. It’s a simple premise: Minnie wants MIckey to do a piano recital and he decides “I don’t need practice i’m mickey mouse. “ And it’s REALLY nice to have a short that has, rather than aw shucks mickey, shenanigans mickey. While thanks to the new shorts we’ve had tons, it’s still nice to get one in the House of Mouse era, and it’s just fun to see Mickey take the usual donald roll of letting his overconfidence punch him in the face> It fits both though: Both are everyman and while I lean towards the duck, to no one’s shock, Mickey is just as capable, and his lack of practice comes off less like the angry and hostile way donald would dismiss it and mroe just loveable procastination. And as someone who REALLY struggles with procastination I related to this short, as Mickey does everything else he’d rather do from bathing the dog to skydiving till Minnie, in a great bit informs him everyone from the president, to several dignitaries from other countries, to a televised audience will see. We then get two really great and really beatuifully animated bits as MIckey wrestles with the notes on thep age then fights with his piano as he performs, still pulling it off but destroying the thing and rightfully earning a glare form his girlfriend. Just a fun, slapstick short with a great premise.

Dance of the Goofys: Scary Children Set to classical music, this one has a bunch of goofys as Fairy’s, who are making the flowers go and the one who sleeps in ends up saving the king from a horrifing looking little brat. He reminds me of Montanna Max a bit.. speaking of which Creer Summer recnetly announced Elmyra won’t be in the reboot. And while this does make me fear actually good characters like Fifi, Montana Max, and more will be cut like the animanics reboot and I do feel for Cree not getting to be involved and hope they find another roll for her as, given her status in the industry she deserves better.. THANK FUCKING GOD. I’ll go into this in another review I have planned for the future but unlike the cuts made to animaniacs this was a REALLY good decision i’m really greatful for. Thank you crew thank you.

Back on topic, it’s just a fun, really beautifully animated short about the goofies and hteir shenanigans with a really great high concept.

Maestro Minnie: Brahm’s Lullabye: Simply Irresitable Another simple but clever and lovely to watch one, and one I like quite a bit more. Minnie is conducting some living violins to Brahm’s Lullabye to get a baby Violin to sleep, and we get some really beautiful shots of her as she does so.. only to get comically interuppted by other insteruments turning up the noise. Not much to say on this one as it’s short and simple.. but sometimes short and simple is just what you need and the fun premise nad really beautiful especially for tv animation at the time visuals really sell this one. ONce again, good stuff.

Overall: This was a REALLY good note to go out on. While as I said the Clarabelle stuff can eat my entire ass, everything else is really damn good and I highly recommend checking this one out. Next time, in about a month, we’ll be looking at Pete’s spotlight episode for his birfday. While you wait tommorow we have my first look at legend of the three cabs. But for now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

#house of mouse #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mortimer mouse #clarabelle cow #donald duck #daisy duck #goofy goof #mouseworks #maurice lamarche #mickey's culture clash

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nonsensicalobsessions · 4 years

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A Ruff Day

Author’s Note:

@catsladen wrote: Congrats my dear on your followers! That is amazing and so well deserved! Here’s a conversation prompt I found that I think you can do magic with: Person A: Why are you doing that? Person B: Doing what? Person A:Treating me like a person I picture either Tom or Loki, but I leave that up to you 😊 No smut necessary. Some fluff/angst mixture would be nice (Fangst? Anuff?) Thank you lovely!

After I wrote about having my lovely followers, Life came around and bit me, in the ass, hard. I was left with a large set of dentition marks and a massive infection known as “depression” in its wake. I say this because I know I’ve pretty much fallen off the face of Tumblr, and I am still clawing my way back. I do not have it nearly as bad as some, but I have it bad enough, and I will leave it at that.

When the events that I write about next happened in real life, I could not stop thinking about them, having worked in a veterinary hospital for three memorable years, and I ran the events through my head, over and over. I could see the events as they could have played out...might have played out...most probably played out in some aspects...and then this plot took root, and would not let go.

So, I apologize, @catsladen, for this is not the most original piece that I have ever come up with...in fact, it is derivative, and some may see it as a cheap rip off on a very real event. Still, it will not let me go, and as such, here it is. I present to you, A Ruff Day.

Working on federal holiday weekends in an emergency vet hospital always either dragged, or were so busy I could neither eat nor pee. Today seemed to be the former, and I was grateful for it. The techs were scattered around doing their busy work, while I closed myself in my office, tossing an oversized tennis ball in the air and catching it as I balanced on the back legs of a chair. I’ve done all my charting, there are no patients for me to check on. The last one through the door was a bulldog that came too close to a honeybee, and his already bulbous face swelled grotesquely. A shot of antihistamine, a script of Benadryl, then he and owner went off, right as rain. The airway was never compromised, all’s well that ends well...except for the bee, of course.

Kellie Ashe, one of the techs, came racing into the office without knocking, breathless. “You will no ever guess what is going on at intake!”

I jumped up, grabbing my stethoscope and mask (Thank you COVID) as I glared at her, “What is it and where is your mask?” The laws were quite clear, and stringent on this, and she had no mask on...and what was that twit doing? Brushing her hair and putting on eye makeup, what...? “Kellie! Focus! What is happening? Is it a hit and run, a delivery presenting badly...dog or cat...” I swear this girl has the brain of a flea...

“Tom Hiddleston is here with his dog!”

I look at her blankly. Nothing registered with me except one word—dog. “Kellie, what is wrong with the animal?” I asked, rushing to turn on the lights in the OR, making sure the X-ray machines were on and warmed up, the ultrasound is also on, and proceeding to the exam rooms, turning the lights on in one.

“It’s my turn to be the assisting tech so I ran back here to make sure you knew, it’s my turn not Claire’s, so I get to be the one in the room with you and Tom...”

I stop and freeze her with a glare. “Kellie, I don’t know what in the hell you’re blabbering about, but so far you have given me no information that has been useful to me. Therefore, there is no reason for you to be anywhere around me, the patient, or the owner. You can wait in the back.”

“What? But no...! I’m the one that ran back to tell you, I’m the one that should get to be in the....”

“If you were concerned with the animal you’d be there right now, but no, you were more interested in putting on mascara for chrissakes...get in the treatment room, I don’t even want to see you right now!”

I came to the front area to see a tall man, obviously the owner, who was obviously in a great deal of distress. “I don’t know how many he had..maybe one? It could have been two? And I don’t know if he chewed them, or swallowed them whole...” His voice was muffled by the mask we kept on hand to give to owners as they came in without masks, as they usually did, upset and stressed. Bright flowers covered the lower half of his face, but as I looked at his bright blue eyes, I finally understood what got Kellie in such a tizzy, and why there was an element of suppressed excitement that our usual emergency walk ins did not produce.

Next to him was a calmer woman, who was filling out some of the paperwork, and occasionally passing it to him to sign or for more information. “Tom, I really think it was only the one, and this is a bit over the top. One raisin isn’t worth all this...”

“A raisin, did you say?” My attention was now completely trained on the sad eyed chocolate spaniel at the feet of Claire Peyton, one of the calmest and best techs we had. She had already gotten a temperature and a weight from the little fellow, and was gently guiding the dog and owner into an exam room, while Liz, the receptionist, was explaining to the woman with the clipboard she could not follow us in because of the current COVID restrictions we were under. Only the owner was allowed in the exam room, because of the laws about remaining so many feet apart...and the worst part was, we couldn’t even allow her to wait in the interior waiting room, but she was welcome to stay on the screened porch we were using at the moment. She wasn’t thrilled, but she was accepting.

I quietly introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Dr. Diana Harris, and I’ll be helping...” “Bobby,” the man said quietly. “This is my...Bobby.”

“Okay Bobby, come here and let me look at you, you scoundrel...stealing raisins, are we? When did this happen, Dad?”

“Tom,” he said, distracted. “About ten minutes ago...maybe twenty. I saw that he was snuffling around the plate, and all the biscuits were gone...so were the little cheese squares...and there had been five raisins before, I am sure of it, and when I picked everything up, I only saw four...”

“Very precise,” I noted mildly as I listened to Bobby’s heart and lungs, which were both within normal limits, and made a hand motion for Claire to make a note of it.

“What’s that, that hand signal, what did that mean?” Oh, wow. Tom is very, very upset.

“It’s a signal I’ve developed with my techs to let them know that the patient’s heart and lungs are fine without having to take the time to say it, Tom,” I reply, keeping my life low and mild. The owner’s agitation is passing along to the little spaniel, who is looking around and panting.

“He keeps doing that, he’s panting and looking upset, is he in pain?”

“Claire, liquid charcoal according to weight please,” I murmur, and she promptly replied, “On it,” and she excused herself to open the door...only to find Kellie standing there, clearly eavesdropping. The look I gave Kellie had her scampering...but oh, it will not be far enough. Luckily, Tom did not notice.

“Okay, Tom, here’s how it stands.” I leaned against the exam table, Bobby quivering in Tom’s arms. “You did exactly the right thing bringing Bobby here, and so quickly. Raisins are extremely toxic to dogs, and the fact you got him here so fast really speaks to how much you care about this little guy...so give yourself some credit...”

“I told her...I told her I didn’t want them around where he could get to them...the Bobster is a bit of a food thief,” he muttered.

“Ok, so you’re telling me he’s a dog,” I drily replied. “Anyway, we’re going to take care of this issue right now. I’m going to take Bobby to the back and...”

“Oh no, can’t I go with him?”

Somehow, I saw this being his response. “Tom, we are going to give him some liquid charcoal. It looks like black sludge and it tastes like garbage. He isn’t going to want to take it so we are going to administer it in a way that he will have no choice but to swallow it, but there will most likely be some spluttering. This stuff is a bear and a half to get out of clothes so you do not want to be within spitting radius...and then this little charmkins, after he gives us a horrible stink eye, is going to proceed to vomit, probably in the messiest manner possible, just for spite and revenge, and I don’t blame him one bit. Again, you do not want to be in range! Then depending on what he gives me back, we can go from there. So no, I think it best you stay here...you can wait with your girlfriend, if you want, and I will be right back when I have something to tell you. I promise we aren’t going to hurt him, but we have to get this out, right away.”

“Right, right...don’t waste time talking to me...I’ll just...sit here, if that’s okay.”

“As you wish, Tom.”

I took the leash from his hand gently. His hands were so cold, I felt pity for him. “I’ll take good care of him, I promise,” I said, and left him standing there, bereft.

Bobby walked with me well enough, and I took him to the treatment area to find Claire had already drawn up the appropriate amount. She quickly got the dog in the appropriate position, and I propped his mouth open carefully and quickly administer the liquid yuck and then closed my hand over his muzzle, blowing softly to stimulate the swallowing reflex. His eyes bulged at the foul concoction, and I tenderly explained,”Ah, such are the wages of sin, my dear thief...and it tastes like ass. Down the hatch...” He swallowed, and I gave Claire the unspoken head nod to release him and step back, which she did...as did I...and Bobby, outraged at this poor treatment, proceeded to sputter and spit like a world champion. Black froth went everywhere, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his outraged expression. “Yes Bobby, that’s right. But I’m sorry, it’s going to get much worse before it gets better...”

After a few minutes, he aggrieved expression turned into the anxious canine smile that presaged a good vomiting session, which was exactly what we wanted. I let him pace about in a small area, until finally he let nature take its course and released the contents of his stomach. Ah, joy, what every veterinarian struggled and sweat blood for, the contents of a dog’s stomach...or a cat, we’re not picky...and hey, I’ll take that over shit, any day...

“Good boy, there’s a good boy,” I soothed him as he retched. He was as miserable as you’d expect, and I kept smoothing my hand over his heaving flanks. I didn’t care about my shoes, they were already black, and just for this reason. Soon I saw a lone offender, and I called for a pair of tweezers to pluck it from the mess and place it on a paper towel. Claire was also consoling the sad little fellow, who was, I hope, reconsidering his evil ways, as I then took a tongue depressor and poked through everything he so woefully bestowed upon us. Yep, cheese...chewed up crackers...mmm, that sausage looked like it was probably expensive...but no other raisins. Just the one. Plus, it hadn’t been chewed, either, excellent! Best of all, it was caught up in all this other stuff. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for better, really.

“Kellie!” I called out. When she didn’t appear right away, my heart sank and my anxiety rose. She wasn’t...she didn’t...

“Hold the leash,” I barked and walked swiftly back to the exam room, and sure enough, I heard her syrupy tones inside...I saw red.

I opened the door carefully, to find her talking to Tom who was standing in almost a corner while she was yapping away. I must have had a look on my face like an avenging goddess, because she immediately began stammering, “I just thought...I could stay and keep Tom company...while you were working with Bobby...”

“Stop thinking, Kellie, it only gets you into more trouble, and it probably strains the gerbils,” I replied softly. “I have a job for you. In the back treatment area. Where I told you to be. Go there. Now.”

She turned towards Tom and said, “So, um...”

“NOW.”

She jumped and scuttled away like a crab facing a boiling pot. Oh, sister...

Tom was blushing and looking at his feet. “It happens all the time. Please don’t be too angry with her...how is Bobby?”

“Bobby is doing excellently and is a trooper. I will be back with you in just a moment. Just...give me a second.”

I flew to the back to find Kellie cowering in a corner. I took a deep breath, and spoke very, very quietly. “You are on such thin ice with me that if you so much as open your mouth, the displaced oxygen pressure will crack the ice and you. Will. Drown. Now. You are going to clean up all of this lovely mess to a surgical grade sterility. I will want to perform open heart surgery on this floor when you are finished. Are we quite clear? Nod if you understand me, Kellie, because you are on such. Thin. Ice.”

Kellie looked around here with dismay. It really was a disgusting mess, and she knew I was going to get down on my hands and knees and inspect the wretched baseboards before all was said and done. I was that pissed.

Claire asked quietly as we walked away, “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t think he absorbed anything. Tom acted too fast, the raisin wasn’t in any way chewed or showing signs of digestion, and it was mixed up with everything else. But pull blood for a CBC-SMAC so we can have a baseline for his kidney values just in case. Better safe than sorry. And then clean up this sad little urchin. I hope you understand now, young man, that crime does not pay...” He looked positively desolate, with his muzzle coated in the foul substance he had to drink and then give back. Activated charcoal really is the worst.

“I’ll make him presentable again. Back in a few.”

I took a deep breath and went to apologize to Tom. Oh, this was going to be fun...

I found him pacing the tiny room, looking at the posters instructing about heartworm prevention and feline leukemia vaccines. “Tom, I really must apologize...”

“No, you don’t. She’s young. It happens all the time,” he tried to brush it off.

“Not when I’m in this hospital, it doesn’t. I’d already given her explicit instructions because she was star-struck, and I will not have it. When someone comes in our door, I don’t care who is on the end of the leash, or holding the carrier. It is irrelevant. What matters is the animal. I give the same treatment and quality of care to the cat from the post office as...well...”

“The dog of some poncy actor,” he concluded wryly.

“Hey, I kinda like some of that poncy actor’s work, so less of that,” I griped, as I blushed and rubbed my forehead, mainly to hide my embarrassment. “Bobby came through wonderfully, and you were right, it was only one raisin...and some crackers, cheese, and what looked like some tasty cold cuts as well. What is great is the raisin wasn’t bitten into or showing any signs of digestion, and as it was caught up in his other ill gotten gains, I think it is safe to say he really got lucky...that, and the fact you acted so quickly. Normally, we’d be talking about having to administer fluids, and have him stay at least overnight to make sure his kidneys were not showing any adverse effects...yes, it is that serious. Especially for a little fellow of Bobby’s size. But he should be fine. I want you to make sure he has access to lots of water. I am having a full blood panel pulled to get a baseline of his kidney values now but that is really just a precaution for when you bring him back to his regular veterinarian...”

“You can’t see him again? He hasn’t needed a vet since we’ve arrived, and I never anticipated having to stay as long as we have...but what if he gets sick, or needs his vaccines updated, can’t we come back here...?”

“Tom, this is an emergency vet hospital, I’m only here on the off hours. My clinic is...well, not here,” I floundered.

“May I have your card, then? I’d really like for you to keep overseeing him...continuity of care, you know,” he trailed off.

“Uh, sure...” I fished one out of my lab coat pocket and gave him one. He looked at it and said, “What should I be looking for, what if he starts getting ill again?”

“Tom, I really don’t think...”

“I can bring him back here, I suppose, I just want to know what symptoms...you said kidney damage...”

“Tom, kidney damage isn’t something you can readily observe...”

“But what if he starts getting that look again, and starts pacing, maybe he’s in pain and can’t tell me...”

“Tom.” He stopped rambling and I held my hand out for my card. Like a child, he held it to his chest. “No, please, I’ll stop...”

“Just give me the damn card, will ya?” I all but yanked it out of his hand, and wrote something on the back. “That is my private cell number. Do not call it, ever! I hate phone calls! Text me. I promise I will lose the cell number you send it from. If you have any questions you can send me video or photos or whatever. Text me...whenever. But keep in mind he picks up on your cues and if you are nervous, he gets nervous. If you are excited, he gets excited.”

He looked at it incredulously, and before he could protest, I waved it off. “Just don’t...I did the same thing for Mr. Puddles.”

“Mr. Puddles,” he repeated dumbly.

“The post office cat...urinary tract infection...anyway.”

Those bright blue eyes stopped staring at the floor impaled me, and said abruptly, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Treating me like a person.”

I looked at him steadily and replied, “Because to me, that’s what you are...you’re Bobby’s person. And...well, I know you probably weren’t supposed to stay here this long. You most likely want to go home, be with your family, what is familiar, and god knows what you are living in, some hotel or something suitably sterile...Right now, we all want to hold onto our loved ones a little bit tighter, a little bit closer. I can tell that for you, that’s Bobby. You love him a lot, and take great care of him, even to taking him to an emergency vet on a holiday weekend when the weather is gorgeous and your girlfriend says maybe you could just stay home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Huh?” Such was my elegant reply.

“No, she’s wonderful, and we’re very close, but it’s not...we’re not...”

I hold my hands up in the air. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me...”

“No I just, erm...”

We spent time admiring the floor when Claire came back, with Bobby cleaned and even faintly smelling of grooming spray, as well as being freshly brushed.

“Bobby!” Tom cried out, and even though I could not see his smile, I could hear it in the real joy in his voice. Bobby wriggled his behind and danced as he all but leapt into his master’s...excuse me, person’s arms.

“Well, that should settle everything,” I smiled.

“Just a moment.”

I looked up at Tom, confused. He sounded almost stern.

“I think Bobby and I could use some photographs to commemorate the great care that he received here...for our scrapbook.”

“Scrapbook? Really, Tom?”

“Instagram,” he immediately amended.

The buzz that went through the building, I swear was palpable. Of course, I even allowed Kellie to get in the photo, because I am not that bad...and if her scrubs were stained with dog vomit, well, you couldn’t really see. Much. And of course we all had to keep our masks on, so I personally thought it was the dumbest idea I’d heard in a long time, but I wasn’t going to go against the idea. I might have found three of my tires slashed and my favorite coffee mug broken, if I had...and I really like that mug, plus tires are not cheap.

Everyone took their photos, hugged Bobby, gave Tom an elbow bump, and he, Bobby and Not-Girlfriend went on their way...then I went back to my office, made sure everything was documented, and went back to my oversized tennis ball.

I thought everything was over. I could not help was smiling, despite myself. Not too shabby of a way to spend a holiday weekend, making a movie star dog’s throw up...this is why I went through all those years of school, I laughed at myself as I sat down with my frozen pizza and lemonade. I even made a bag of popcorn.

Then, at about ten o’clock, my phone buzzed. I picked it up, expecting it to be my mother, who sometimes forgot about this thing called “time zones” since she moved to Arizona...

Instead, there was a photo of a happy, smiling man, without a mask, and his happy, smiling dog. A text read, “To my favorite doc: Thanks again for helping me. Telling dad all about how the wages of sin taste like ass.”

I winced. I had no idea he’d overheard that.

So I sent a photo back of me. Without my mask, or makeup, or getting a hairdo, because in front of me was the best makeup job ever—my Corgi, Cheeks.

The attached text said, “Stop licking it then...and she says you are very welcome. I don’t know what you did, bro...but check your balls.”

The phone buzzed yet again, this time without a photo, “Thanks a LOT. Now I’m really in trouble...! TH”

“Sorry. Cheeks is still sore over that one. It happened about two months ago and he is still telling the world what a horrible human I am. DH”

“Bobby wants to know...perhaps Cheeks would like to get acquainted and play sometime soon? The dog park close to your clinic looks promising.”

“Cheeks thinks that would be amazing. He is still very much a puppy and has a lot of energy to burn. He’d love a friend to tear around with instead of trying to wrap his leash around my ankles.”

“Maybe...we could have some coffee while they wear each other out?”

“That sounds like a fantastic plan.”

“Could we say...9:00 Wednesday morning?”

“Yes, I’d like that. I’ll be the half asleep one with the hyperactive pooch, I won’t have hours until one o’clock that afternoon.”

“I’ll be the tall one...wearing a mask that is not covered with flowers.”

I laughed out loud.

“I think we will find each other well enough.”

There was a brief pause, and then, “Yes, I think we have. Goodnight, Cheeks, and Diana.”

“Goodnight, Bobby and Tom...it’s been a ruff day.”

“...I can’t believe you said that.”

“XD woof.”

Tagging all my littermates: @catsladen, @villainousshakespeare, @winterisakiller, @vodka-and-some-sass, @yespolkadotkitty, @just-the-hiddles, @hopelessromanticspoonie, @theheartofpenelope, @sabine-leo, @wegingerangelica, @ciaodarknessmyheart, @wrathkitty, @rhemasky, @sourpatchkidsandacokecan, @redfoxwritesstuff, @the-insomniac-cat2, @alexakeyloveloki, @myoxisbroken, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @ladyfluff, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

#Tagging:#a ruff day #Nonsensical Writes #look Christine I did a thing #200 follower prompt #tom hiddleston x ofc

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raeseddon · 3 years

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Why New Age Spirituality Was Always Going to Have An Extremist Problem

As the daughter of an activist who came of age in the 60's and 70's, I spend a lot of my time talking to my dad about the many, many facets of the counter-culture, and how some aspects of it eventually caused more harm to my generation, and the generation after ours than anyone living at the time could possibly imagine. "New Age" ~alternative~ religions (if it even deserves to be called that) is probably the big one, when you follow the thread of its development and impact in the 21st century. What began as a racist and utterly fetishistic orientalism has become a clear and present danger to all who believe in science and reason. I have a friend who's really into it (not to the point of science denial, if that were the case, we wouldn't be friends) but I'm not sure I could bring up the origins of New Age with her without hurting her deeply, especially because it's something she's come to after a lot of personal struggle, the same way I came to Buddhism.

The thing is, you can't separate what New Age is now from where it began, which was largely a thought experiment carried out by the Hippy/Yippy movement. A note: There is a big difference between Hippies/Yippies and the people who were actually involved in the activism of the time. Hippies/Yippies were upper middle class/rich kids in it for the drugs and the sex and because they wanted to piss off their parents. If there's blame to be laid for the existence of New Age, it's at their feet. They're the people who started the cults and turned a lot of the movement into an aesthetic rather than rooted in any sort of social or political ethos. (If you want to get galaxy brain about it, it's their fault "distressed" denim jeans exist.) I digress. So where did New Age come from?

"New Age" began as this chaotic, totally nonsensical mish-mash of Nichiren Buddhism, Hinduism and Sufism, mixed in with "tribal" beliefs like that of the Romani (name a group, New Age stole someething from them,) and Native North American peoples-- every inch of it embodied the worst of racism and orientalism at the time it was created, treating adherants' abitrary interpretations of each as "elevated thinking" that was supposedly greater than the sum of its parts. When the commune movement died out, New Age became a very behind closed doors/personal belief that didn't experience a big surge until the mid 80's, when the commercialist aspect of it really picked up-- that's when the crystal shops, incense, "dream catchers" (yet another type of racism to add to the pile!) crystal balls, aroma therapy you name it exploded everywhere you went. Every mall in North America had at least one of these stores, some of them masqurading as import/export stores dealing entirely in East Asian and Far East "religious supplies." Gen X and elder Millenials will no doubt have at least one memory of shops like these-- beaded curtains, sitar music, sandlewood insense, and as you edged into the early 90's, at least one white shop worker had "dreds." It was capitalist branded racism at its most rampant. But there was worse to come.

Once the internet was commercially available, like every other interest, there were websites, message boards and the people who had these beliefs could network in ways they never imagined. This was also when alternative medicine became big, but not because there was finally a large body of research that showed how and why it worked: the New Age spiritualists weren't interested in that-- all they took away from it was a sense of superiority that this "new, radical" thing they had known about for ages was now legitimate in a way it had never been before. And once the community was well and truly established on the anonimity of the internet, that's when the personal racism of each individual could really come out, totally unfiltered.

More insidiously, it's also when the conspiracy theory community really began to edge in, especially with the "wellness" freaks who were convinced that "big pharma" was Not To Be Trusted and only natural things, unadultered, straight from Mother Gaia could ever really heal someone. That was the groundwork for the explosion of the anti-vaxx movement, which would have happened with or without celebrity endorsement. It was there, an abcess below the surface waiting to burst. The pediatric medical community had been trying to warn people for years before Kathy Lee and Austism Speaks opened their mouths and got Loud and Proud about it. And once those gates were open, nothing was going to close them--which is why we have people arguing that all drugs are actually the causes of diseases they're meant to "cure" and people who will drink colloidal silver and stick garlic up their noses before getting a vaccine to one of the most virulent plagues of it's kind in a hundred years. It's why you have people about to be put on ventilators in complete denial because they "did everything right" -- ate all the right things, did yoga for hours a day, sat surrounded by their crystals "absorbing their energies" that would protect them-- so no, they don't have Covid, this isn't happening.

It's vitally important, now more than ever to understand how we got to where we are now so we can hopefully do more in the future so things aren't this bad. People will always need to believe something, but that's not really the problem, the problem is uncritical belief, because if you show that you're not willing to think about the things you believe, people will do anything to exploit that for the worst. New Age, from its inception was always going to have an extremist problem, because it was inheirtantly racist and valued white superiority for making false equivalencies and connections between disparate systems of belief. There was no way it wasn't going to go the direction it did because people convinced of their own superiority will never believe that they've been manipulated into believing the worst conspiracy theories out there.

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isoisolated · 4 years

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I have ADHD and it's not fun

29/12 edit: coming back to this post, I just wanted to add that at the time of writing, my adhd was unmedicated. Thought this might be good thing to note.

My friend Ondrej kept sending me articles and texts posts written by other adhd people (mostly adult males) that it finally pushed me to write my own, because even though I could relate to some minor and major parts, something always felt a bit of and also because ADHD is a condition that's been heavily ignored by medical professionals not only in adults, but especially in adult women, which is a group I sort of represent myself.

I could talk about this for ages, my therapist frequently tells me that I have this gift of intense self-analysis and immense passion to get it all sorted out once for all. I guess it's another way of saying I'm so hyperaware of my own existence and my brain simply latches onto it and constantly tries to solve its own problems.

If you do not care about my own personal history, just skip to second headline.

I was clueless for the first 20 years of my existence

Now, ADHD isn't the only thing that's been making me feel almost alien, I dare to say that my puberty years were mostly about developing and internalising bit of trauma and processes that do no good in later life.

I love music. And I mean I truly endlessly unconditionally love music. Being a daughter of music composer, I was 6 when I first asked my dad to show me where to press record in Logic Pro and told him to leave me alone while I recorded my first song. It was called Autumn is here and it sounded like something made by 6 years old.

I remember we were attending castings for TV shows or commercials and later I was told that it was me who initiated such trips and that I always wanted to be a part of such things. I don't remember initiating such things but I remember for sure that I was very shy and uncomfortable when I was supposed to show off.

I remember I was supposed to take piano lessons. And I was so baffled that I had to follow the book and play what's in the book, instead of playing thing I wanted. I think I told my parents after few lessons that I do not like it and was dropped outta it. This became a pattern, if I recall correctly.

But that's nothing out of ordinary, kids are harder to get focused and entertained. I remember two moments from elementary school where I was told by my classmates that I'm acting like I have ADHD and it got me real mad every time, because in my head ADHD looked like not paying attention in class, being body hyper and overall just annoying.

I could find a proof that I made myself first to-do list when I was 14. Since 14 I felt like I need more self control and self regulation, that I need to fit myself more into ambitions I had and have and in order to do that, I started making to-do lists with ambiguous tasks such as “work more on music” and “work-out”. It was also in during my great isolation era, I had no real life friends but one that I was seeing occasionally, I wasn't going out, I came from school on Friday afternoon and left my room on Monday morning. I was making friends online since I was 11 and lived mostly online.

At that time I also started figuring out what was wrong with me. Since ever I always felt a bit “off” compared to my peers, I always felt weird (and was told that thousand of times in my life), I always felt like I was thinking about things a bit differently and my humour was different and my hobbies were seen obscure by my classmates (even though they weren't obscure at all). I felt alone for most of my growing up and feelings of complete loneliness and detachment haunt me to this day, making me spiral.

I thought I might suffer from bipolar disorder, because I had high energy episodes and my emotions were so intense. I was crying almost everyday for both external and internal reasons, my head sometimes felt like too much and I found temporary peace in self-help books and esotericism.

I was around 17-18 when I realised all of this is bullshit and that no book can make me do things that I wanna do. I'd spent hours, days and months thinking about doing things, being crippled by this weird force that hold my body down, unable to do anything, no matter how much I wanted it. I'd beat myself up for it, thinking I was just so damn lazy and stupid and pretentious. I wanna be a popstar, a successful musician, I have to do all these things and if not, I'm gonna fail so much and my life will lose its meaning.

When I was 17, I released my first EP and for some reason, it found some attention and success, if we might call it that. Suddenly I felt on the right path, I was seen as a musician and also very young one. Even though I still was sad almost every day or had intense sadness episodes that could last for a week, it felt right and I couldn't wait to finish high school and become a full time musician.

I'd produce music in unplanned episodes of total focus, where I would sit and do things for hours straight, without eating. My most favorite songs were made during 6-8 hour sessions and it felt amazing. I couldn't bring myself to produce music if I hadn't the right vibe or idea for it.

It was around that time this woman texted me, saying she wants to be my manager and that she really likes my music. It felt so unreal but here I am, with my own professional manager, on my way to be the most amazing music person.

I'd crush on people (and mostly boys and men) constantly, it was also very episodic, could last for days to month where I'd had nothing on my mind but them, drowned in daydreaming and just imagining things and also letting them know all of that. It was magical but it was fleeting. It still is. But it is the greatest inspiration, where I feel so much emotions it makes me see things and then I can transform them into music.

But there was still something wrong with me, I was very emotional, still struggling with making my routines work, I'd come up with new plans and schedules every week just to fail them the day after. It was exhausting and I saw nothing alike in my world too, I was alone and my experience was just not enough will power.

I could get mad so easily, I'd clench my fists and was so close to punching someone and when I hated someone I hated them with immense passion and spent hours just imagining myself confronting them. I was so mad all the time on background too and even slightest thing would put me in classic rage mode.

I have problems remembering dates and names, I'm bad at remembering people's faces, I'm bad at learning things by myself even though I have interest in them. I'm bad at making routine for myself and actually following it.

I finished high school and planned to go study abroad but it turned out it isn't what I want so I came back and started looking for a job. Around that time I met my now best friend and thanks to him I actually started thinking even harder what might be wrong with me, so I looked up ADHD. And didn't believe that at all. I wasn't like this, was I?

Then, the summer came and I met my friend (and also a fan) while being out for a beer. We chatted, had a great time and then told me I kinda am like a person with ADD. I was confused because I didn't recall what that does mean, later I remembered it's another (and outdated) term for ADHD, but it's the “quiet type”, where the hype happens mostly inside and doesn't manifest outside that much. So I started researching once again, because I trusted him and it was that one push I needed.

It's been year since that moment and it took me months to accept that I might suffer from ADHD and to this day I still have feelings of impostor syndrome, making it all harder for myself just like that, to be more interesting for myself. I still yet have to accept this.

I was transitioning into adulthood and yet had actual emotional breakdowns, I was crying and my heart was aching and I couldn't bring myself to do things I want, to learn more about music production, to learn how to sing better, to learn my favorite k-pop choreos, to work-out, to embody my own vision of who I want to be. With music, I am my own boss and it's the worst.

Covid-19 hit our country and here came the first lockdown. It pushed me over the edge and I felt like I was losing all of my friends, I felt those feelings of loneliness and weirdness again, I felt like nobody knows what's wrong because I don't have it as bad as others, I was hurting so much my body was shaking and twisting. I decided to try medication, even though I told my psychiatrist I don't want to, I just felt like I cannot be like this anymore, it's too much pain and no matter how much I try, I can't make it better, I can't make it work.

I started taking Strattera and after month or two, I saw it working. A bit, I could focus better and bring myself to do things more and more frequently, and if I had these weird emotional meltdowns, they weren't as intense as before. This serves me as ultimate proof that I am not making this up, because if I were, the medication wouldn't work and make me feel better, right?

So, what am I doing now?

I'm still a huge mess and I cannot see myself in a better light. Even though I have job that I perform at at stable rate, even though I have just a little problem cooking for myself, even though I have no troubles falling asleep, even though I can enjoy things greatly when those high energy waves hit me.

I'm tired of myself, I'm tired of myself not being able to do anything again. I ignore my manager because I already know I have nothing else to say than “I cannot bring myself to do things and you know that, I'm sorry for being a constant failure.” When people compliment me, I thank them but deep inside I don't accept it.

I have unreleased and WIP songs I can see never being released, ever. When I listen to music from my favorite artists, I can also feel the pain from the fact that I'm not like them and that I probably won't ever be, because my brain sabotages me every damn time.

From the very moment I wake up to the very moment I fall asleep, there's music playing in my head. I don't choose what's playing, sometimes it's song I don't even like and yet it's stuck on loop. I talk with my therapist in my head, I'm having weird flashbacks in my head to my memories, I'm having “you should do X right now” and “why aren't you doing Y” stuck on loop too. This all is happening at once, every moment I'm awake, even when I'm talking with people. It's exhausting.

I'm bored most of the time, I have interesting books in my bookshelf and still cannot read them because I have to reread paragraphs in order to actually understand them. And even then, I find my mind wandering again. I have problems with long texts and long tutorials.

I get frustrated easily, my head is overflowing with ideas I can't act on. I'm living in weird worlds I made up for myself, and then reality hits me.

I had my first depressive episode few months ago. I felt like nothing matters, that I don't matter, I felt nothing and emptiness, I crawled up in bed and was mindlessly watching youtube videos. I didn't want to eat or drink, I wanted to not exist at all. That episode passed but it was my first encounter with actual depressive state and I know I can slip into it more easily now, it simply developed along the way, after 21 years without acknowledging that I have problems and I struggle.

People don't understand the struggle, when talking to them about my problems, it's like talking to an automated assistant, coming up with phrases like “Did you try yoga?” “everyone struggles sometime” “you cannot accomplish everything”. They say they wanna listen and help until they don't.

I have a mental graveyard for ideas I won't ever finish, no matter how good they are, because my brain won't let me. Proper medication would help, therapy also helps but I can't talk myself out of actual executive dysfunction.

ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, our brains are literally underdeveloped in some areas and wired differently. Our emotions lack regulation normal people have and our motivation is fragile. This can't be changed with yoga, this cannot be solved by trying more. Not to even mention, capitalist society is especially damaging to neurodivergent people (and not only them, of course).

While on this journey, I am still meeting more and more people having same struggles like me, finding people who understand you is the best thing to battle impostor syndrome. Sometimes I can't help them and sometimes they can't help me, but it's okay, because we know we understand each other and if I wanna complain and vent, we can do so without having to explain this condition over and over.

And I hope that someone finds this relatable too, because as a woman I know my group isn't represented enough. We are not children, nor adult males, we need more attention and more support, from both healthcare system and each other.

While doing this, I hope to get myself proper medication and continue doing what I love the most - music. I don't love anything else more than that. I hope to get rid of “all or nothing” mindset, I hope to be more consistent, I hope my music will reach its listeners and fans. I still have enough time, I think, even though my sense of time is neurologically altered.

#adhd #actually adhd

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realationshipstuff · 3 years

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My first big mistake in 2021

So this blog is kind of related to my previous post about your ex if he or she can be a friend or not. Well, short answer is, they can't- at least in my own opinion.

Me and my friend are planning to go on a short road trip up north to celebrate that last weekend of winter. We have been doing these spontaneous trips for quite some time now. But this particular trip, we thought of adding some people to go with us. We have quite a few friends here and there that we tried to invite. She did her part as well. But the main reason why most of them are not able to come join us is work, -- bummer.

The night before we start our road trip in the morning, we finally decided to just go together again like what we normally do. around 8:30PM, I caught myself alone with my thoughts which is always a bad thing. Then something popped into my head, "What if I invite my ex, Simon?" The plan is simple. In my head, my ex and I are fine. We had a clean breakup. We hang out twice since our breakup and most of the time that we did that, we never had a big fight which is a good sign, right? I've always wanted to bring Simon up north but I never really had the chance to do that because of the Covid year. In my head, Simon is very quiet, he is definitely not gonna bother my friend and my friend is not gonna bother him, it was all perfect-- in my head.

"Are you busy?" Its still in the text box and I haven't pressed the send button. Thats how I always first start a conversation with him after the breakup. I mean, It's very polite right? I don't want to just call him right away. What if he is hooking up with someone, that's gonna be awkward and not gonna leave my brain for the rest of my life, and I'm not fucking ready for it. At this time, I'm already having second thoughts about sending that short message. I really don't want to. But, I can, right? Those are the two things in my head that night.

I sent the message. My anxiety started to kick in. Is he gonna reply? Is he just gonna ignore my message, which is fine for me. That way it's all gonna be easier. But it will definitely still haunt me thinking why did he not text me back. After a minute or two, he replied with, "Kinda, why?" One thing about Simon, he is never busy, or at least he never told me that. Not one time, not last year, NEVER. He is never "Kinda" busy. After that I actually have the option of just ignoring him and just proceed with my life or just continue and expect the worst. I did the latter.

I explained why I texted that I just wanna ask if he wants to join me and my friend on a short road trip up north if he is not busy. He thanked me for inviting him but he said that he has things to do. He also added, "maybe next time" which is very polite of him but between him and me, I know there's never gonna be a "next time"

This is a big reality check for me. You know what I have learned from this mistake? Yes, you can have a clean breakup with your ex, you can hang with him once or twice, but you can never be friends with him again. It's just not a reality. It's nice to think about it, the possibility but, it's just not real. At the end of the day, you guys broke up. At the end of the day, they saying, "If you're friends with your ex, it's either you're still in love with them, or you never did" still wins.

#relationship #love #quotes

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maximelebled · 3 years

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2019 & 2020

Hello everyone! So yeah, this yearly blog post is about three... four months late... it covers two years now.

I did have a lot of things written last year, last time, but the more things have changed, the more I’ve realized that a lot of things I talked about on here... were because I lacked enough of a social life to want to open up on here.

In a less awkwardly-phrased way, what I’m saying is, I was coping.

Not an easy thing to admit to in public by any means, but I reckon it’s the truth. Over the past two years, I’ve made more of an effort to build better & healthier friendships, dial back my social media usage a bit (number 1 coping strategy), not tie all my friendships to games I play, especially Dota (number 2 coping strategy), so that I could be more emotionally healthy overall.

Pictured: me looking a whole lot like @dril on the outside, although not so much on the inside. (Photo by my lovely partner.)

To some degree, I believe it’s important to be able to talk about yourself a bit more openly in a way that is generally not encouraged nor made easy on other social networks (looking at you, Twitter). I know that 2010-me would be scared to approach 2020-me; and it’s my hope that what I am writing here would not help him with that, but also help him become less of an insecure dweeb faster. 😉

Not that recent accomplishments have stopped me from being any less professionally anxious. Sometimes the impostor syndrome just morphs into... something else.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is, the first reason it took me until this year to finish last year’s post is because, with my shift in perspective, and these realizations about myself, I do want to keep a lot more things private... or rather, it’s that I don’t feel the need to share them anymore? And that made figuring out what to write a fair bit harder.

The other reason I didn’t write sooner is because, in 2018, I wrote my "year in review” post right before I became able to talk about my then-latest cool thing (my work on Valve’s 2018 True Sight documentary). So I then knew I’d have to bring it up in the 2019 post. But then, I was asked to work on the 2019 True Sight documentary, and I know it was going to air in late January 2020, so I was like, “okay, well, whatever, it, I’ll just write this yearly recap after that, so I don’t miss the coach this time”. So I just ended up delaying it again until I was like... “okay, whatever, I’ll just do both 2019 and 2020 in a single post.”

I think I can say I’ve had the privilege of a pretty good 2019, all things considered. And also of a decent 2020, given the circumstances. Overall, 2019 was a year of professional fulfillment; here’s a photo taken of me while I was managing the augmented reality system at The International 2019! (The $35 million dollar Dota 2 tournament that was held, this that year, in Shanghai.)

If I’d shown this to myself 10 years ago it would’ve blown my mind, so I guess things aren’t all that bad...!

I’ve brought up two health topics in these posts before: weight & sleep.

As for the first, the situation is still stable. If it is improving, it is doing so at a snail’s pace. But quite frankly, I haven’t put in enough effort into it overall. Even though I know my diet is way better than it was five or six years ago, I’ve only just really caught up with the “how it should have been the entire time” stage. It is a milestone... but not necessarily an impressive one. Learning to cook better things for myself has been very rewarding and fulfilling, though. It’s definitely what I’d recommend if you need to find a place to start.

As for sleep, throughout 2019, I continued living 25-hour days for the most part. There were a few weeks during which I slowed down the process, but it continued on going. Then, in late December of 2019, motivated by the knowledge that sleep is such a foundational pillar of your health, I figured I really needed to take things seriously, and I managed to go on a three month streak of mostly-stable sleep! (See the data above.)

Part of what helped was willingly stopping to use my desktop computer once it got too late in the day, avoiding Dota at the end of the day as much as possible, and anything exciting for that matter... and, as much as that sounds like the worst possible stereotype, trying to “listen to my body” and recognizing when I was letting stress and anxiety build up inside me, and taking a break or trying to relax.

Also, a pill of melatonin before going to bed; but even though it’s allegedly not a problem to take melatonin, I figured I should try to rely on it as little as possible.

Unfortunately, that “good sleep” streak was abruptly stopped by a flu-like illness... it might have been Covid-19. The symptoms somewhat matched up, but I was lucky: they were very mild. I fully recovered in just over a week. I coughed a bit, but not that much. If it really was that disease, then I got very lucky.

(Pictured: another photo by my lovely SO, somewhere in Auvergne.)

My sleep continued to drift back to its 25-hour rhythm, and I only started resuming these efforts towards the fall... mostly because living during the night felt like a better option with the summer heat (no AC here). I thought about doing that the other way (getting up at 3am instead of going to bed at 7am), and while it’d make more sense temperature-wise, that would have kept me awake when there were practically no people online, and I was trying to have a better social life then, even if had to be purely online due to the coronavirus, so... yeah.

I’ve been working from home since 2012! I also lived alone for a number of years since then. For the most part, it hasn’t been a great thing for my mental health. Having had a taste of what being in an office was like thanks to a couple weeks in the Valve offices, I had the goal of beginning to apply at a few places here and there in March/April. Then the pandemic hit, so those plans are dead in the water. I wanted 2020 to be the year in which I’d finally stop being fully remote, but those plans are now dead in the water.

Now, at the end of the year, I don’t really know if I want to apply at any places. There’s a small handful of studios whose work really resonates with me, creatively speaking, and whose working conditions seem to be alright, at least from what I hear... but, and I swear I’m saying this in the least braggy way possible... there’s very little that beats having been able to work on what I want, when I want, and how much I want.

This kind of freelance status can be pretty terrifying sometimes, but I’ve managed (with some luck, of course) to reach a safe balance, a point at which I’ve effectively got this luxury of being able to only really work on what I want, and never truly overwork myself (at least by the standards of most of the gaming industry). It’s a big privilege and I feel like it’d take a lot to give it up.

Besides the things I mentioned before, one thing I did that drastically improved my mental health was being introduced to a new lovely group of friends by my partner! I started playing Dungeons & Dragons with them, every weekend or so! And in the spirit of a rising tide lifting all boats, I managed to also give back to our lovely DM, by being a sort of “AM” (audio manager)... It’s been great having something to look forward to every week.

Something to look forward to... I’ve heard about the concept of “temporal anchors”. I had heard about how the reason our adult years suddenly pass by in a blur is because we now have more “time” that’s already in our brains, but now I’m more convinced that it’s because we’re going from a very school routine such as the one schools impose upon us, to, well... practically nothing.

I thought most of my years since 2011 have been a blur, but none have whooshed by like 2020 has, and I reckon part of that is because I’ve (obviously) gone out far far less, and most importantly there wasn’t The Big Summer Event That The International Is, the biggest yearly “temporal anchor” at my disposal. The anticipation and release of those energies made summer feel a fair bit longer... and this year, summer was very much a blur for me. In and out like the wind.

I guess besides that, I haven’t really had that much trouble with being locked down. I had years of training for that, after all. Doesn’t feel like I can complain. 😛

(Pictured: trip to Chicago in January of 2019... right when the polar vortex hit!)

Work was good in 2019, and sparser in 2020. Working with Valve again after the 2018 True Sight was a very exciting opportunity. At the time, in February of 2019, I was out with my partner on little holiday trips around my region, and, after night fell, on the way back, we decided to stop in a wide open field, on a tiny countryside path, away from the cities, to try and do some star-gazing, without light pollution getting in the way.

And it’s there and then that I received their message, while looking at the stars with my SO! The timing and location turned that into a very vivid memory...

I then got to spend a couple weeks in their offices in late April / early May. I was able to bring my partner along with me to Washington State, and we did some sightseeing on the weekends.

(Pictured: part of a weekend trip in Washington. This was a dried up lakebed.)

After that, I worked on the Void Spirit trailer in the lead to The International. In August, those couple weeks in Shanghai were intense. Having peeked behind the curtain and seen everything that goes into production really does give me a much deeper appreciation for all the work that goes unseen.

Then after that, in late 2019, there was my work on the yearly True Sight documentary, for the second time. In 2018, I’d been tasked with making just two animated sequences, and I was very nervous since that was my first time working directly with Valve; my work then was fairly “sober”, for lack of a better term.

(Pictured: view from my hotel room in Shanghai.)

For the 2019 edition, I had double the amount of sequences on my plate, and they were very trusting of me, which was very reassuring. I got to be more technically ambitious, I let my style shine through (you know... if it’s got all these gratuitous light beams, etc.), and it was real fun to work on.

At the premiere in Berlin, I was sitting in the middle of the room (in fact, you could spot me in the pre-show broadcast behind SirActionSlacks; unfortunately I had forgotten to bring textures for my shirt). Being in that spot when my shots started playing, and hearing people laughing and cheering at them... that’s an unforgettable memory. The last time I had experienced something like that was having my first Dota short film played at KeyArena in 2015, the laughter of the crowd echoing all around me... I was shaking in my seat. Just remembering it gets my heart pumping, man. It’s a really unique feeling.

So I’m pretty happy with how that work came out. I came out of it having learned quite a few new tricks too, born out of necessity from my technical ambitions. Stuff I intend to put to use again. I’m really glad that the team I worked with at Valve was so kind and great to work with. After the premiere, I received a few more compliments from them... and I did reply, “careful! You might give me enough confidence to apply!”, to which one of them replied, “you totally should, man.” But I still haven’t because I’m a massive idiot, haha. Well, I still haven’t because I don’t think I’m well-rounded enough yet. And also because, like I alluded to before, I think I’m in a pretty good situation as it is.

It’s not the first encouragements I had received from them, too; there had been a couple people from the Dota team who, at the end of my two week stay in the offices, while I was on my way out, told me I should try applying. But again, I didn’t apply because I’m a massive idiot.

(Pictured: view from the Valve offices.)

To be 200% frank, even though there’s been quite a few people who’ve followed my work throughout the years, comments on Reddit and YouTube, etc. who’ve all said things along the lines of “why aren’t you working for them ?”, well... it’s not something I ever really pursued. I know it’s a lot of people’s dream job, but I never saw it that way. I feel like, if it ever happened to me... sure, that could be cool! But I don’t know if it’s something I really want, or even that I should want?

And if you add “being unsure” to what I consider to be a lack of experience in certain things, well... I really don’t think I’d be a good candidate (yet?), and having seen how busy these people are on the inside, the last thing I want to do is waste their time with a bad application. That would be the most basic form of courtesy I can show to them.

Besides, Covid-19 makes applying to just about any job very hard, if not outright impossible right now. And for a while longer, I suspect.

(Pictured: the Tuilière & Sanadoire rocks.)

I’m still unhappy about the amount of “actual animation” I get to do overall since I like to work on just about every step of the process in my videos, but well. It’s getting better. One thing I am happy with though, is “solving problems”. And new challenges. Seeking the answers to them, and making myself be able to see those problems, alongside entire projects, from a more “holistic” way, that is to say, not missing the forest for the trees.

It’s hard to explain, and even just the use of the term “holistic” sounds like some kind of pompous cop-out... but looking back on how I handled projects 5 years ago vs. now, I see the differences in how I think about problems a lot. And to some extent I do have my time on Valve contracts to thank a LOT in helping me progress there.

Anyway, I’m currently working on a project that I’m very interested & creativefuly fulfilled by. But it has nothing to do with animation nor Dota, for a change! There are definitely at least two other Dota short films I want to make, though. We’ll see how that goes.

Happy new year & take care y’all.

#year in review

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Change of Plans - Part 1

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (An It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe AU, set nearly 3 years after that epilogue)

Word Count: ~3000

Rating: PG-13 (just some adult language)

Summary: Living in NYC in March 2020 is redefining normal for Drake and Riley. Life doesn’t always go according to plan during a pandemic, after all.

Author’s Note: Ummmm, I tried to avoid writing this. I really did. But as I was sitting down to do some detailed outlines for the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment sequel, all my brain kept wanting to explore was COVID-19 content in that universe. At first, I just bullet pointed some head canons, hoping that would be enough to scratch the itch. But it wasn’t. The fact of the matter is if you’ve read anything I’ve written, you know I’m all about grounding the Choices characters and stories in the real world to a certain degree. So to write an AU where Drake and Riley live in New York City and not address the horrible crisis that city is facing just didn’t feel true to me as a writer.

That being said, I understand fanfic is often an escape from the real world. I understand that addressing the current pandemic at all might not be your thing, even though I don’t take it to any truly sad or tragic places. So, no worries, this is an AU inside my AU. This will not be an “official” part of the sequel. It’s its own little two-part piece that inches a bit more firmly into the real world than the actual sequel, Why Are We Still Waiting?.

So, tagging all my usual It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment taglists, but no hard feelings if this is just a little too real. I will mention that this does hint at or reference some events from the prologue and the first couple of chapters of Why Are We Still Waiting?, but it does not spoil the core content of the story. Plus, to be fair, it’s not like I write things with big plot twists really. Much like It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment was essentially a Drake character study, Why Are We Still Waiting? is a Riley Liu character study, and I’m not really sure you even can spoil those.

Alright, I’ve rambled in this AN for far too long already. In case you skimmed and missed it, Trigger warning for coronavirus discussions.

Drake glanced up from his laptop as he heard the locks click on the apartment door, Riley and Anderson walking through a few seconds later. Riley unclasped Anderson’s leash and hung it on the hooks Drake had installed, followed by her coat and her keys, before sliding off her shoes and going straight into the kitchen to wash her hands. The space next to their door had become their “dirty zone.” For now, they weren’t changing all their clothing when they got back inside, but Drake was thinking that doing so should probably be their next step.

Taking Anderson out was now basically the only time either one of them left the apartment. With Riley being furloughed from her PR firm on Friday and Drake working from home for all of last week, there really wasn’t any other reason to do so. At the moment, they were doing okay for food and whatnot, but Drake was not looking forward to having to deal with that in the upcoming weeks. He wasn’t sure whether they should switch to just getting delivery that they could safely reheat, but exposing themselves to a new driver every couple of days, or if they should risk making a trip to Foodtown and stocking up for a few weeks just once. Deep down, he knew the latter was the better option, but neither of them had been to a bodega or grocery store in the past week, and he was kind of dreading it now that more people were starting to take this seriously since the schools were closed. Maybe he could pull out the box of five masks he’d bought when he was sanding down and repainting the dresser and see if he had one left for each of them.

For the past four days, with both of them with nowhere to be, they’d alternated who was leaving the relative safety of their apartment to get a little fresh air with the dog. Even before that, Riley was just going to work and coming straight home, and she’d been riding an old bicycle she bought from a coworker to avoid the subway. But now, she had nowhere to be and neither did he. On her first day at home, Drake had been reluctant to have Riley go out at all now that she didn’t need to do so. He’d seen the news stories about the hate crimes popping up against Asian Americans, and it seemed like an unnecessary risk. But he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to convince her to essentially become a shut in while he left the apartment a couple of times every day to walk Anderson. Plus, as she had pointed out, she was still in her 20s and wasn’t a former smoker, so by all accounts, she was medically a lower risk than him. Still, he got nervous every time she left and always felt a little better when she came back.

Overall, Drake knew things could be a lot worse for the two of them. Because of his conversations with Liam, he’d been slowly stocking up on nonperishables for the past month or so. He had not only a permanent job, but one with a law firm that allowed him to work from home. They had a one bedroom, not a studio, so Riley didn’t have to stay silent during his Zoom meetings with his boss or team. But losing Riley’s salary was certainly not great for them. They’d be okay for at least the next month, but going forward, things might get a little tight. Not only that, but Riley was clearly going stir crazy already, with no one to see and nothing to do. Well, nothing to do except send emails and make calls to Texas to postpone their wedding.

In the grand scheme of things, Drake knew that postponing a wedding was a minor loss. In fact, if that was the worst loss that they suffered at the end of all this, they would be very fortunate. And now that the president had banned travel from Europe, there was little chance of the majority of their already small guest list being able to make it. But it still sucked, particularly since they’d already had to postpone last year.

He and Riley had talked about it last week, after the travel ban came down. Even though the wedding was seven weeks away, it had just seemed like the smart call to start cancelling things now instead of waiting until the last minute. The original plan had been for him to make the needed calls and whatnot since he was working from home, but since Riley now had infinite free time, she’d contacted everyone except his mother and aunt, who he had called over the weekend. His mother had been confused at first, saying she didn’t understand why they needed to postpone already and that she was sure it will have all “blown over” by May. Aunt Leona, on the other hand, had seemed pleased by the decision, telling him she was glad he wasn’t bringing that “Chinese virus” down to them from New York. Drake wasn’t sure whose response was more infuriating.

As Riley flopped down on the couch next to him, she let out a loud sigh. When he’d been working out of their apartment and she’d still been going into the office, they’d tried to maintain some distance at home. It had been pretty difficult, though. Although this place was way bigger than her old studio, they still just had the one bathroom, and obviously they were still sleeping in the same bed. Drake had known it had probably been smart of them to spread out as best they could, but he was kind of relieved when Riley had just curled up next to him on the couch this weekend, saying that it was stupid to try and pretend that they were even coming close to effectively socially distancing from one another. Plus, now that she wasn’t going into work, they basically carried the same risk of exposure.

Although she was sitting next to him now, she didn’t make any move to actually touch him. Sensing she wanted to talk about something, he moved his laptop from his knees to the coffee table in front of them. Sure enough, her head landed in his lap not even a full minute later. This had become her habit over the years, to lay down on the couch and put her head across his lap whenever there was something she wanted to talk to him about, usually something serious that she didn’t want to deal with but knew they needed to deal with together.

“So, everything’s pushed back to November 7th,” she said after a couple of moments of silence, “We had to put down another deposit with the florist who was a real asshole about it, but the band, the photographer, and the caterers were really accommodating.” Her fingers traced random patterns across his forearm as she spoke, but her eyes remained closed, almost as if she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye and see their shared disappointment reflected there.

“Thanks, Liu. I’ll call Mom tomorrow and let her know.”

“I did try for October, but the caterers and the florist didn’t have any availability.”

“November’s fine. If the weather’s shitty, we can just have the ceremony inside the barn and the reception in the house. Our guest list is tiny, anyway.”

His statement hung there in the air. There was kind of this unspoken agreement between the two of them to just be matter of fact about postponing. It was a global pandemic. It had to happen. Being upset about it wasn’t going to make things any better. But sometimes, it just hurt, thinking about all their planning and excitement that was just on hold again. The scattered pieces of wedding favors and leftover invitations and the planning binder that Hana had started for them that were visible in every corner of the apartment didn’t help either. They were now mixed in with stacks of dog food, rice, and paper towels, a grim blend of the future they wanted with their new reality.

They didn’t even have any place to tuck the wedding crap out of sight at this point, as their closets and cupboards were filled to the brim with extra supplies. But without a car, Drake had just wanted to make sure they could minimize trips out if… no, when shit really hit the fan. And it’s not like they had that much storage space in their apartment anyway. But now they would have to live with constant reminders that they couldn’t get married and their lives were essentially on hold.

He at least still had work to distract himself with. Now that Riley had cancelled everything, she really didn’t have anything she could focus on to distract herself. He just felt bad for her. “I’m sorry, Liu.”

“For what? None of this is your fault,” Riley said, her eyes popping open and gazing up at him, her hand continuing to trace patterns across the skin of his arm.

Drake sighed, dropping his head to the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I feel guilty that I didn’t get us to Cordonia when I could.” He had been contemplating calling Savannah or Maxwell and seeing if they could come stay with them for a while. Leave the crazy population density that was New York City. Staying at the palace would mean bad optics for Liam, but he figured at least two of the three adults at Ramsford would probably be okay with hosting him and Riley and Anderson. But while he’d been weighing their options with Riley, Liam had closed all flights into Cordonia except for citizens returning home. Since Riley had never become a Cordonian citizen, they were out of luck. Drake knew that if he asked Liam, he would grant Riley some sort of royal exception, but he wasn’t going to put Liam in that position. The last thing Liam needed on his plate was making an accommodation for Riley.

Drake felt Riley’s head leave his lap, and soon her hands were on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Drake, we both were unsure if it was the right call.”

He just shook his head. She could have had Maxwell to spend time with while he worked. Anderson could have gone on walks safely across the grounds and vineyards. But he hadn’t been decisive enough and now it was too late. “I should have seen the writing on the wall.”

“Look at me.” Her voice was firm and carried enough of an edge that Drake complied, tipping his head back to find Riley kneeling next to him on their couch, staring at him with eyes that were somehow intense and sympathetic simultaneously. “We both were concerned about flying right now. We both were unsure about being in a house with both a baby and a toddler and possibly bringing the infection to them. We both wanted to wait to see what would happen. I don’t know why you insist on taking the blame here when we both weren’t sure if heading to Cordonia was the right call.”

“I just wish there was a way to protect you from this.”

She shook her head, “You think I don’t want that, too?”

“I know, Liu. I just feel like…” he trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts. He could have never imagined a situation where he couldn’t take care of her. Keep her safe. But there was nothing he could do about any of this. It just made him feel so powerless.

“Me too, Drake,” she said, tilting her head and sliding her hand down his arm and twining their fingers together. “But nothing else to do but ride this out. Well, that and hope we don’t drive each other too crazy over the upcoming weeks,” she added with a little chuckle. “What time do you think you’ll finish up today?”

“I dunno,” Drake said with a shrug. Since he was a naturally early riser, he’d been getting up and started on his files for the day hours before Riley was waking up, trying to get his work done by mid afternoon most days so that she didn’t feel banished to the bedroom too much. He knew she felt like a distraction to him when he was working, and though he didn’t want to admit it, she kind of was. “By 3:30, I’d guess.”

“Okay,” she replied, letting go of his hand and bouncing off the couch. “I guess it’s time for me to read up on my insurance options. I’ve been putting this off, but it’s probably better to sign up sooner rather than later.”

Drake frowned as she rounded the corner and went down the little hallway to their bedroom. He’d not thought about the fact that her being furloughed might impact her health insurance. He probably should have. Getting way better health insurance when he’d gotten hired as a permanent employee had been a big deal, after all. This employment-connected health insurance thing still just felt strange to him, though.

A thought occurred to him. He minimized the folder of digital files he was reviewing and cataloguing, pulling up instead a search engine. He landed on the city clerk’s website a couple of minutes later, scanning over the requirements, then checking the time. This could work.

“Hey, Liu!” he called out, striding over to the bedroom. Her laptop was in front of her as she lounged on her stomach, Anderson curled up right next to her. She glanced up as he reached the doorway.

“What’s up?”

“Let’s get married.”

She blinked a couple of times and pulled her head back slightly as she cocked it to the side, “Uhh, sounds good, but that was kind of already the plan.” She waved her left hand in the air, his grandmother’s ring catching the light intermittently. “I mean, I’m glad you still want to and everything, but seeing as I did just spend the whole morning rescheduling our entire wedding, I would have been pretty pissed at you if you changed your mind.”

Drake shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No, let’s get married tomorrow.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We can go down to the city clerk’s office now and get our marriage license so we can get married tomorrow.”

“Where is this coming from?”

Drake walked over and sat down on the bed next to her, pointing toward her laptop. “You were going to go on my health insurance after the wedding anyway, right? So let’s do that now instead of having to pay for shitty coverage for you.”

She gave him a gentle little smile, closing her laptop and sliding up onto her knees next to him. She placed one hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing gentle circles before she spoke.

“You are a very sweet marshmallow of a man, you really are. But I know you. And I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush to do this now. We’ll be fine if we wait for the lovely wedding we planned down on the ranch with all of our friends there.”

He shook his head, “I want to do this. The question is, do you?”

“You don’t actually want to do this.”

“Of course I want to do this! You think I give a shit about who’s there or what we wear or if we have the right flowers or what we have for dinner?”

“Yeah, I do. Drake, you may not be much for pomp and glitz, but this wedding that we’ve been planning for years now? I think it matters to you. I think you want Liam and Maxwell and Hana and your mother and sister and niece and nephew there. I think you want to hear our friends toast us and to see Maxwell make a fool of himself on the dance floor and to have Bartie be the ring bearer and that’s okay. It’s okay to want to celebrate with everyone. We can wait until we can do that. This doesn’t have to just be a... logistical arrangement.”

Drake paused for a moment. She wasn’t wrong, exactly. Those were things he wanted. But right now, they seemed like little, insignificant details.

“Look, Liu. You’re right. The thing that prompted me to think about marrying you right now was the practical reasons. But as everything becomes a total shit show, I just feel like the only protection I can offer you is this one. And in an ideal world - sure, I would want the nice little wedding we planned in Texas. But the world has changed a whole fucking lot in the past couple weeks, and nothing is exactly ideal anymore. And if my choices are waiting almost eight months to have the wedding we planned or to marry you tomorrow, I pick marrying you tomorrow. Because, yeah a wedding down on the ranch with our friends sounds great, but the whole point of that wedding is that I get to be your husband. And that’s all I really want.”

She gave him a warm smile and kissed him deeply, sliding her hand up his back and threading her fingers through his hair as his hands fell to her hips. After a few moments, she pulled back.

“So, you aren’t going to look back with regret and feel like we rushed things?”

“I’ve been ready to marry you for years. This doesn’t feel like we’re rushing. It feels like it’s about damn time. At least for me.”

Riley nodded, glancing down. Drake followed her gaze to her left hand, resting gently on her knees.

“It’s not a rush for me either.”

“So, what are you thinking? Should we get married tomorrow?” Drake asked, grabbing her hand in his, staring at her downturned face for a few seconds before she looked up and met his gaze.

“Yeah,” she said, a wide grin sliding onto her face, “Let’s fucking do this.”

Permatag: @ravenpuff02 @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @addictedtodrakefanfic @drakesensworld

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trr au fanfic #tw: coronavirus

42 notes · View notes

welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

By City-Wide Decree

It's a crush.

And in any other situation, that would be it. He'd be able to keep going about his day in normal pining fashion. But nothing about this is normal. Because in the last few minutes Bellamy's complained about shredded cheese and Clarke's making jokes about Bleecker Street and apparently there's some city-wide rule about car services now.

Or: the last thing Bellamy Blake expected during a national health pandemic was being forced to kiss his neighbor.

----

Rating: Teen Word Count: Just over 5.6K AN: Hey there, internet. It was really only a matter of time until I wrote some kind of nonsense here. But I do want to say that this story does include COVID-19 stuff, so if that is not for you, I totally get it. That being said, this admittedly very silly nonsense, is very much just that and hopefully it offers a bit of a distraction for a few minutes.

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam

----

He almost drops the box of macaroni in his hand.

The edge stabs his palm, a weird pain that's really more like the general sense of Bellamy’s frustration because just a few seconds ago he witnessed two grown adults glaring at each other over the final few rolls of toilet paper in aisle five. And there aren’t really that many other people in this grocery store, which he supposes is a good thing. Everyone taking social distancing seriously and staying home and he’s got every intention of doing the same, but first he’s got to deal with this.

“Pre-shredded cheese,” he mumbles under his breath, glancing at the box. He’s bent the edge. He hopes he doesn’t break the box. There weren’t many left in that aisle, either. Just the one thing of shells Bellamy had been able to grab and four boxes of whole wheat linguine, which, really, almost offends him more than the idea of pre-shredded cheese.

In a variety of flavors.

And adjectives.

“Cheese should not have adjectives attached to it,” Bellamy continues, and apparently he’s reached the crazy portion of his day.

That also seems to be the standard for most of the world, though. He’d been very close to breaking up the toilet paper fight. So maybe he’s just catching up to everyone else. He needs to go home. He needs to—

“Pick a goddamn cheese,” he says. Whatever sound he makes at his own private conversation isn’t so much a sigh, but rather another round of frustration and possible resignation and taco-flavored cheese can’t be that bad.

Right? Maybe.

He can’t imagine what kind of preservatives are used in taco-flavored cheese. Like..are there even spices involved? There should be spices. When all of this is over he’s going to write a strongly worded letter to the Kraft family.

Bellamy sighs again, drawing more than a few looks and a glare or too, and he’s going to give himself a headache if he keeps rolling his eyes at their current rate. He lunges forward, careful to account for the box of macaroni and the small thing of buttermilk that’s honestly starting to make his fingers go numb and—

An arm moves next to his.

She’s also a little off-balance — a backpack that’s close to bursting and something that might actually be paint streaked across her left cheek, but Bellamy can barely register that when she’s already starting to stumble back, a package of margarine clutched in her hand.

“Oh,” Clarke breathes, eyes going wide and what looks like the first hints of a smile tugging at the ends of her mouth. “Hey, Bell.”

His stomach flies into his throat.

As per usual.

That might be the most normal part of his day so far.

To say that he’s been harboring a pretty monumental crush on Clarke Griffin since she moved into the apartment across the hall from Bellamy would be—

Accurate.

It would be accurate, honestly.

In almost painful fashion.

Six months ago, she showed up with a handful of boxes and paint on her jeans, and a smile that seemed to reverberate through him. In a way where that doesn’t sound insane. Maybe he wasn’t catching up to everyone else. Maybe he was just sprinting past them. Towards crazy.

The kind of crazy that also means he’s stupid into his neighbor.

She’d said hi first that day too. So he offered to help her carry some boxes and she’d promised she’d be ok, but he was stubborn and a little overwhelmed by the very specific color of her eyes and she really did have a lot of stuff and they’d ordered from the Thai place up the street after.

And if that's not the basis for a pretty solid friendship, then Bellamy isn’t sure what is.

Only that’s really all it is. Because, well—Bellamy isn’t sure. Octavia would say he’s being an idiot and to some extent that’s true, but he and Clarke are pretty good friends now and sometimes she curls up on the corner of his couch when she’s stressed about the arts budget of the high school she works at in the Bowery or he kicks on her door when he’s got some new pages he thinks she might like to read and it’s—

Good.

Normal.

In a world that is very quickly spiraling out of control.

He hopes those people didn’t actually start yelling over toilet paper. He’s not sure his brain would be able to cope with that.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asks, taking another step back and he hadn’t noticed she’s got another bag of art supplies in her left hand.

“Glaring at cheese.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Glaring at cheese,” Bellamy repeats. He nods towards the minimal selection, Clarke’s eyes widening at his admittedly petty reaction to the cheese issue. It should not be an issue. “I—well, I’m running low on some food and I—” He grits his teeth, suddenly hopeful that he’ll be able to melt into the supermarket floor.

That’s probably not hygienic.

“Is it super top secret, then?” Bellamy clicks his tongue. “No, it’s—ok, do you promise not to laugh?” “Absolutely not.” “You look like you staged a battle getting here.” “Nah,” she objects, but there’s a slight blush creeping across her cheeks and it’s probably wrong to feel some kind of victory at that. Just, like—with everything else going on. Flirting should probably be a low priority at this point.

“Then…” “Why are you angry at the cheese?” “Mostly the selection of cheese,” Bellamy admits. “Because I’m supposed to use a very specific kind, so—” “—For what?” “My mom’s mac and cheese recipe.” She gapes at him. Which is not the reaction he was hoping for, really. He’s not sure what would be better, but he had been pretty partial to the blush and he’s positive this is somehow the paint streak’s fault.

Clarke has a habit of getting paint everywhere.

There’s still a stain on his floor from three weeks ago.

“Did you think I was going to laugh at you making your mom’s mac and cheese recipe during an international health pandemic?” Clarke cries. It draws another round of curious stares and one set of incredibly narrow eyes from a woman with a cropped haircut and a cart practically overflowing with paper products.

Clarke sneers. “I might actually fight someone for bulk-buying things. God, people are—” “—The worst?” “Is that why you’d thought I’d laugh at you being adorable?”

Bellamy forgets all about his stomach and its current location in his throat. He’s far more preoccupied with the matter of his exploding heart. Which is not nearly as painful an experience as he would have assumed.

His smile threatens to take up most of his face, muscles unaccustomed to the movement when everything else seems to be going to shit. He hopes standing this long in the dairy aisle doesn’t adversely affect the buttermilk.

That’s a key part of the recipe too.

“Adorable, huh?” “Oh shut up,” Clarke grumbles, kicking her foot out of habit. She’s still a few feet away from him. That probably shouldn’t be disappointing either. In any situation, honestly. “Seriously, are you out here being weird about cheese because—” “—A quick detour out of adorable.” “Only because you keep interrupting me.”

He smiles wider. “When I was a kid, my mom used to make this mac and cheese for every major event. Birthdays, holidays, great grade on a test.” “Because you were a nerd?” “Look who’s interrupting the flow of the story.” “You should consider speeding up your approach” Clarke laughs. “The lady with forty-thousand paper napkins might come back and start pelting you with them for taking so long.” “You think she bought those paper napkins for reasons not related to eating food?” “God.” His shoulders shake a little when he chuckles — another threat to the pasta and his grip on any of the groceries he’s trying very hard to buy. “Moral of the story? I’m stressed out, people continue to be the worst, I saw a bunch of people, including actual grown adults, sitting out in Washington Square like nothing is wrong, so in an attempt to combat the general horribleness of the world I am going to make my mom’s mac and cheese recipe. Only apparently a lot of other people have had the same thought—” “—About your mom’s mac and cheese recipe?”

“Bring the paper napkin lady back here so I can throw stuff at you.” Clarke grins, and the overall brightness of her eyes is probably just a byproduct of the lighting in the dairy aisle of Gristedes. Or so Bellamy will tell himself for the next forty-eight hours.

“Taco cheese does not scream mac and cheese,” he continues. “But I’m also not willing to stage some sort of quest for the appropriate kind of cheddar. Or blocks of cheese.”

“It can’t be shredded cheese?” “Eh. I’m willing to make some sacrifices at this point.” “Wow,” Clarke drawls. “How gallant of you. And you wanted to make it yourself, then? No thoughts of take-out from Murray’s.”

“Don’t insult me like that.” “You have issues with a place that actually has cheese in its name?” “Murray’s Cheese Bar is an overpriced tourist trap that does not need my business to stay in business. I’m sure they’re perfectly fine.” “Murray himself?” “Or whatever corporate chain that place is owned and operated by. Plus, have you ever had their cheese plate? Like—just, it was gross. We got, maybe, half a dozen crackers.”

Clarke presses her lips together, but her laugh still manages to find its way into the six-feet of mandated space between her and Bellamy. “Did Octavia order the cheese plate at Murray’s once?” “And a bottle of chianti.” “Fancy.” “Gross,” Bellamy amends. “I can’t stand red wine.” “Why didn’t I know that you hated Murray’s so much? Do you feel that way about—” “—Most of the places on Bleecker?” Bellamy finishes, ignoring Clarke’s wide-eyed stare at yet another interruption. They have got to get out of this store. The processed air is obviously going to his head. Or, whatever.

Maybe just the state of his heart. “Down with the establishment, huh?” Clarke quips. She absolutely, positively does not rock towards him. Bellamy is sure.

He hums, and maybe his issue really lies in the overall state of his heart. Explosions cannot be healthy. In a biological sense. “Why are you here, then? I’m assuming it’s not just to share the very high opinions you’ve got about the restaurants on Bleecker.” “Ok, that is not what I said at all. I’m not advocating we start doing some kind of Bleecker restaurant crawl when this is all over, even if that one Gelato place on the corner is good.” “Tourist trap.” “Is the oxygen thinner on that high horse you’re riding?” Bellamy scrunches his nose when he makes a vaguely ridiculous noise in the back of his throat, part agreement, part unspoken suggestion to keep talking. “Whatever,” Clarke grumbles. “I am here because I needed butter to make cookies. But there’s only this garbage.”

She brandishes the margarine, arm flung out in front of her and Bellamy refuses to be held accountable for whatever noise he makes at that. Just as ridiculous as the last one. With even more flirting involved.

“I walked down here,” Clarke adds. “There are no other stores open and—” “—Walked from where?” Bellamy asks sharply. He doesn’t mean for the words to come out quite like that, but he’s also not entirely sure what feeling is shooting down either one of his arms.

He’s very glad Octavia isn’t here.

She’d make fun of him.

More so than usual.

“Relax,” Clarke mutters, jerking the bag at her side. “I needed stuff for class, but most of my supplies are still at school and it’s not like I can get into school any time soon, so I went up to Marmorino. Nyko agreed to open for, like, twenty minutes so I could get some new brushes and—” She shrugs, all nonchalance. Like walking twenty blocks to the art supply store in the middle of that previously discussed pandemic so she can keep teaching kids how to paint isn't equal parts absurd and wonderful. “What are you going to paint?” Bellamy asks. “We’re doing life studies. Figured it’d be a good way to get parents involved too. You know, kids paint their mom or their dad or...whatever. Like I said, I just needed a brushes. And butter.”

“Those go hand in hand, huh? You know I have butter.”

Clarke blinks. And her grip on the bag noticeably loosens. “What?” “Butter,” he repeats. “That’s how this all started. I kept opening my fridge and the butter was sitting there, like it was taunting me and—”

“—Can the butter form coherent sentences?” “I’m offering you butter, princess. And mac and cheese. If you want it.”

Another blink.

That’s...Bellamy doesn’t want to consider what that is. Because this is not the first time he’s done this. Or vice versa. Far from it. They both live alone and they’re friends and it’s not that far across the hall, after all.

There’s just not usually an international health pandemic involved.

“Yeah?” Clarke asks softly, like she’s waiting to shout surprise. Or throw paper napkins at them for standing in the dairy aisle for so long.

Bellamy nods. “Yeah. That’s how humanity survives, right? We pool resources and seek out companionship in times of difficulty.” “Something like that, I’m sure.” “Ok, so you leave the gross margarine here and I’ll deal with the taco cheese.” “I have cheddar in my fridge.” Maybe this is a dream. Maybe the after-effects of his exploding heart have left Bellamy hallucinating in the middle of Gristedes. Maybe he got food poisoning from the cheese plate at Murray’s when Octavia visited three weeks ago and he’s only just now discovering it.

Clarke smiles.

“If you want it,” she adds. “I—well, I’d had big plans for grilled cheese quarantines, but there was only block cheese at that point and I haven’t even opened it. Yours for the taking.” He nods slowly, trying to come to terms with all of this. It’s not flirting. No one flirts like this. They shouldn’t flirt like this.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “That’d be great. A, uh—COVID team, huh?” Idiot.

Idiot.

He’s sure Octavia knows about this. Somehow. A sixth sense that alerts his younger sister to his overwhelming idiocy and she’d been annoyed that he hadn’t invited Clarke to Murray’s with them.

“Something like that,” Clarke says again. “Ok, then let me pay for a car back home. I don’t know if my shoulders can cope with this backpack and—do not offer to carry this backpack for me,” she adds as soon as Bellamy opens his mouth, “I’ll get the paper napkin lady back here, I swear to God.” “She’d probably call a manager on you.”

Clarke scoffs, but her smile hasn’t changed and Bellamy spends most of the next twenty-four minutes standing in the checkout line thinking only about that. Until Clarke tells the guy in front of them to “stop being a dick” to the cashier when he starts complaining about the lack of bread in aisle two.

The guy doesn’t say anything else after that.

And the cashier definitely mumbles “thanks” when Bellamy puts his slightly bent box of pasta on the conveyor belt.

They don’t spend long waiting for the car — and Bellamy can’t imagine business is exactly booming, which is part of the reason he agreed to this and the rest is entirely selfish and possibly a little stalker’ish and he just likes spending time with Clarke. No matter the world’s collective health situation.

“You two together?” the driver asks, hardly opening the window and it’s not easy to understand what he’s saying.

Bellamy furrows his brows. “Excuse me?” He swings open the door, sliding across the backset and moving his feet so Clarke’s backpack can fit comfortably between them. And he’s not one to pass judgement, particularly not now, but the whole thing looks a bit like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. There are sheets of plastic wrap stretched between the front seats, the driver wearing gloves and casting impatient glances in his rearview mirror.

Bellamy glances at Clarke’s phone — the driver’s name is Bryan.

“C’mon man,” Bryan presses. “I need an answer.” “I don’t—” Bellamy starts, shaking his head and that dream theory is starting to make more and more sense. “What are you talking about?”

“The rules.” “Ok, that doesn’t clear it up. Can we just go?” “Nope. I need you to tell me. I don’t want my license revoked.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Clarke lets out a soft gasp, eyes going impossibly wide. “Shit. Are you kidding me?” “What part of nope are you guys having a difficult time wrapping your heads around?” Bryan asks. “Listen, I can’t break the law, ok? I—we’re living in crazy times and—” “—Seriously what are you talking about?” Bellamy snaps.

Bryan takes a deep breath, shoulders moving with the effort, and Clarke hasn’t looked Bellamy’s direction in what feels like an eternity. He can’t rationalize the chill that slinks down his spine, a growing dread that threatens to tug him through the backseat or take up residence in between his ribs and he’s got to stop making so many sweeping biological assessments.

There are no facts to back any of this up.

And yet he can’t quite understand the look on Clarke’s face either, teeth digging into her lower lip while she refuses to meet his gaze. “Guys,” Bryan groans. “In or out, yes or not, just—prove it.” Bellamy opens his mouth again, ready to demand answers if need be, but Clarke is already talking and the words don’t process immediately — mandate from the mayor and I totally forgot and only real couples.

She grits her teeth when she finally looks up, a pained expression that almost makes Bellamy shiver. It’s unnaturally warm in the city that afternoon. “Did you not see the press conference?” she mutters. He shakes his head. “I, uh—I totally forgot about it, but ride-share services are still cool and essential, they just...if you share, you have to be a couple.” “Real couple too,” Bryan adds. “That’s what the mayor said.” Clarke squeezes one eye shut. “He did, yeah.”

Bellamy has no idea what’s happening. That’s not hyperbole. He genuinely cannot keep up with the conversation or the events of the last few hours and he’s certain this is now somehow the fault of the paper napkin lady and those toilet paper people and— “So,” Bryan continues, “either prove it or lose it?” “Lose what, exactly?” Bellamy rasps. He doesn’t take his eyes off Clarke, can see just how tight her jaw has gone and the exact moment her tongue flashes between her lips and maybe it would just be better for everyone if he grabbed her backpack and sprinted the fifteen blocks back to their apartment.

Apartment building.

They don’t live in the same apartment.

Seriously, screw the toilet paper people.

“My services,” Bryan answers. “Seriously. I’m not getting fucked over by this. So prove you're a real couple or start walking.” “And how would you like us to do that, exactly?” “Kiss her.” It is several different miracles that Bellamy does not rip down Bryan’s plastic wrap wall right then and there. He considers it, fingers flexing and head at a sudden angle while he glares at the rearview mirror. But something keeps him from actually reacting and it might be Clarke’s soft ok a few inches away.

They are no longer the appropriate six feet apart.

“Wait, what?” Bellamy asks, only marginally disappointed when his voice manages to crack over both words.

Clarke’s smile doesn’t waver, but it shifts slightly — a little cautious and a little nervous and, maybe, a little hopeful. She leans forward, ignoring the goddamn backpack and how straight Bellamy’s spine has gone, breathing quickly like he did run those fifteen blocks. “Just a kiss, right?” she mutters. “Couples kiss. That’s—” “—Real couples,” Bryan amends. Bellamy might strangle Bryan before they get out of this car.

“Right, right, right. And that’s—it’s not a big deal.” Bellamy’s never going to blink again.

“I don’t know how else to double check,” Bryan admits.

Clarke hums, still moving and Bellamy doesn’t flinch when her hand lands on his bent knee. So, points or whatever. Her tongue flashes once more, a soft huff of air that barely reaches his cheek when she’s close enough and this can’t possibly be sanitary.

God, he does not want to be thinking about that now.

Bellamy doesn’t remember bending his neck, but it appears to have happened anyway, curls threatening to fall in his eyes. That’s not right. The top of Clarke’s backpack digs into his chest, what feels like an actual paint brush pushing against the side and he’s going to say something. He is. He’s going to promise that he can walk and he’ll carry the backpack and just meet her at home, but none of the words seem all that interested in coming out of his mouth and his lips pop softly when they part, another bit of movement and a direct violation of social distancing and—

His eyes flutter shut when Clarke kisses him.

With Bryan watching intently.

And it’s not...well, it’s not quite the way Bellamy had always imagined when he’d let himself imagine this. Far more often than he should. It’s stilted and awkward, weird angles and bumped noses. It’s chins jostling for position and that fucking backpack, both of them far too aware of the two bags of groceries at their feet.

Bellamy does his best not to actually sigh — even more frustration, that does not belong in a situation like this, but then his eyes open and the tip of Clarke’s tongue finds his lips and everything kind of spirals after that.

His hand flies up, curling into her hair and pulling her closer, a crunch that is absolutely the box of shells, but the shells can go fuck off for all Bellamy cares. He opens his mouth, lets his head tilt slightly until they find a rhythm that’s a bit like driving at seventy miles an hour on an open highway. That’d be impossible anywhere in New York.

Even under quarantine.

And yet. Bellamy feels like he’s rushing towards something, everything and anything and a variety of words that should be far more overwhelming than they are. He nips at Clarke’s lower lip, lets his nose drag along her cheek until he’s practically tracing that streak of paint and the sound that draws will be branded on every inch of him for the foreseeable future. They only break apart to catch their breath, the rhythm going almost desperate when Clarke’s nails scratch at the back of Bellamy’s neck and—

Bryan coughs.

He might not tip Bryan.

No, he’ll definitely tip Bryan. It’s a fucking pandemic.

Bellamy’s not a total dick.

Just…

“So, uh, cool,” Bryan says, already pulling out onto the street. “Thanks for the, uh—for the demonstration, then.” Clarke jerks back.

And Bellamy feels like he’s been thrown in the East River. Specifically. Because that river is notoriously grosser than the Hudson.

He’s gross.

He twists, trying to put as much space between them as possible when they’re still in Bryan’s silver Toyota Camry. And he doesn’t actually count the minutes that it takes to get back to their building, but it’s awfully close because it seems to take a lifetime and happen far too soon, Clarke mumbling her thanks and hoping Bryan doesn’t have to drive too much in the future and Bellamy doesn’t want to think about the state of that box of shells.

It feels far too literal.

And they don’t rush up the stairs, both Bellamy and Clarke taking even steps as they do their mutual and collective best to stare at their shoes. But then he’s tugging his keys out of his back pocket and the air feels like it’s crackling around him, enough tension to power the island of Manhattan — especially when Clarke follows him inside his apartment.

“So, uh—” she starts, a click of her jaw when she notices the look on Bellamy’s face.

His eyes have started to water, they’re so wide, standing in the middle of his exceptionally tiny living room. “Clarke, I—” “—Oh shit, I forgot the butter.” “Clarke.” “No, no, I should go get the butter, right? Yeah. That’s—shit, I didn’t even think. I...sorry, sorry, it’s—” She shakes her head brusquely, like she’s trying to shake away the awkwardness and Bellamy wishes there weren’t any awkwardness. He wishes he’d asked her out before the world started falling apart.

He’s back in her space in a few more steps, fingers finding her flailing hands. She’s biting her lip again. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” “No?” “Absolutely not,” Bellamy promises. “I might, though. I just—I didn’t realize what was going on and then—” “I’m going to go get the butter,” Clarke announces, sounding almost disappointed at the idea. She pulls her hands back, a quick hiss of pain when she manages to elbow herself in the side in the process, all but running out of his apartment. Her backpack is still on his couch.

Bellamy doesn’t move. He’s not sure he can, honestly. His legs feel like they’ve locked themselves in place, waiting with those same wide eyes for something he’s not sure he can have because it can’t possibly happen like this and Octavia is probably hysterical on the other side of the country.

And he’s still not counting seconds or minutes, when he finally manages to get his feet to cooperate. So he can wash his hands. Like a responsible adult. Not one who hoards paper products.

The footsteps that return to his still-open door a little slower than usual.

“You didn’t close your door,” Clarke points out. She kicks back, a tremulous smile and Bellamy can’t believe this is going to happen while she’s holding butter. And at least two pounds of flour. He’s not sure what’s going to happen, exactly. “Did you even turn your oven on?” He shakes his head. “No.” “Real fond of that word all of a sudden, aren’t you?”

Bellamy doesn’t think he imagines the edge in her voice, narrowing his eyes slightly like that will help him pick up on certain conversational cues. It doesn’t — especially when Clarke breezes by him, marching into her kitchen like it’s hers or could be hers and that’s probably when he decides. What he wants to happen. “Do you want to make the cookies or the mac and cheese first?” she asks, and that question sounds more determined than any Bellamy’s heard before. Some of the tension in his shoulders disappears.

“Hey, will you talk to me?”

“About something other than our cooking order?” “Yeah,” Bellamy nods. “Definitely about something other than our cooking order.” “I’m really hungry, though.”

His laugh has a certain strangled quality to it, but that may be a product of his heart, recently reformed and re-exploded. As soon as Bellamy realized what kissing Clarke was like. “I’m not going to let you starve,” Bellamy says. “Just—c’mon, look at me at least.”

She doesn’t. She pushes up on her toes instead, stabbing at the buttons on his oven. Bellamy sighs, doing his best not to start proclaiming things, giving voice to the sentiment that’s been bouncing around his soul for the better part of the last six months, and the flour that’s sitting on his minimal counter space is half open.

The top’s rolling up, a haphazard curl to the paper, which only makes it easier to reach his hand inside without Clarke noticing.

And immediately flick his fingers in Clarke’s direction.

Her eyes flash, mouth dropping open, but Bellamy just grins, another flick that leaves flour clinging to Clarke’s cheek and the ends of her hair and she’d never washed that paint streak off.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demands.

“Got you to look at me.” “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Am I laughing?”

Clarke groans, trying to shake the flour off. All it does is ensure her hair shifts and the smell of her shampoo takes over most of the air in his kitchen. “You’re an idiot,” she sneers, “that’s what you are. I’m trying to feed us and—” “—You’re really very concerned about that. We’ve got to reorganize this conversation.”

Bellamy needs to get more flour before he can go for the third flick, but that proves to be his undoing. Clarke moves before he can, reflexes that he’d like to have a very serious discussion about eventually and she doesn’t flick. She slams her hand into his chest, a perfectly formed print in the middle of his shirt, twisting the fabric under her like that will make sure the mark stays there.

Things are starting to feel a little literal again.

At least he hopes so.

So, it’s only reasonable and passably romantic to retaliate in kind — letting his flour-covered fingers flutter over Clarke’s hair and one of them gasps, but it’s difficult to figure out when they’re as close as they are, her hands dragging across his side and dangerously close to the top of his jeans and Bellamy’s definitely the one who groans when Clarke works her way under the hem of his shirt.

Clarke beams. Bright and honest and her eyes are blue enough that Bellamy briefly considers getting lost in them for those minutes he’s still refusing to count, but then—

“God, I can’t believe I had to use some stupid marshall law bullshit to kiss you,” he mutters.

“Is marshall law the right term there?” “No, not at all.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, hand staying exactly where it is. “I didn’t think so. And I—this was not some elaborate ruse, just for the record.” “Were you looking for elaborate ruses to make out with me?” “We’ve got to work on your vocabulary. Make out doesn’t seem right either.” “A work in progress.” “For the words, or…” She gasps again. Presumably because Bellamy’s ducking his head and his arm has curled around her middle and it’s easier to kiss her when there isn’t a backpack between them. Bellamy’s hand flattens against the small of Clarke’s back, a curve there that is quite suddenly the only thing he’d like to talk about for the remainder of the day.

And they’re just as good at this as they were in Bryan’s car, but there’s something inherently different about the second go-around. An ease to the angles and the now-familiar rhythm, like they’d simply been waiting for the chance or the opportunity and—

“Maybe make out was an acceptable description,” Clarke mumbles against Bellamy’s mouth. He grins, dropping down so he can kiss her jaw and the side of her neck, only a little pleased with the goosebumps he notices there. “Oh, don’t get smug,” Clarke adds, “that’s not a good look on you.” “That certainly sounds like you’ve got opinions on my looks, actually.”

She clicks her tongue, leaning back to get in his eye line. “Maybe a few.” “A few?” “Bell, c’mon, that’s—” “—I have a very big crush on you.” Clarke blinks. Opens her mouth only to close it. Smiles. Scoffs. Blinks again. And then she’s kissing him and it’s good and great and both of those things feel wrong during a pandemic, but Bellamy assumes there's something to be said for the human spirit. Or whatever.

“Makes for a good story, though,” Clarke says, eyes gone a color Bellamy’s never seen before. “You know, if you’re looking for something to write about.” “You want me to write about us? I write history books.” “Is this not historic?” “Oh, now who’s fishing for compliments,” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke blushes. Again, or still. “I would have liked to kiss you under less dramatic circumstances, but, uh—it also wasn’t the worst first kiss I’ve ever had.” “High praise.” “We’re very good at kissing each other.” “Yeah, I figured we would be.” “Did you just?” Clarke hums. “I’m pretty sure my friends had some kind of pool going. Especially now. When I’d finally give in and just like...attack you with my mouth or something. I talk about you all the time. At school. To Raven. Strangers on the street.” “Strangers on the street?” “I mean, Bryan assumed we were a couple.” “That’s because the mayor required him too,” Bellamy argues. “But, uh—I get the opinionated peanut gallery. O was convinced we were secretly dating when she was here.” “Before or after the chianti?” “Well before.” “Oh,” Clarke says, like that’s somehow surprising or good. Bellamy hopes it’s good. He’d like some good at this point. “You should probably change shirts.” “That sounds like a suggestion to take my shirt off.” “Wow, weird.” Her laugh turns into something far closer to a giggle when he kisses behind her ear, a fact he’s already stored for future reference, but then they’re moving and there are discarded clothes and kicked off shoes and neither one of them bothers to get up when the oven finishes pre-heating.

“I have a crush on you too,” Clarke says, head propped up on her hand. In Bellamy’s bed. They’re in Bellamy’s bed.

Her backpack is still on his couch. “Good,” he grins. “You want to eat, or…” “God, I’d thought you’d never ask.” And they do make both things, Clarke announcing that this is the best mac and cheese I’ve ever had while Bellamy does an absolutely terrible job of stealing cookie batter on the sly. She moves her backpack eventually too — into the corner of his living room. It’s easier that way, something about pandemics and limiting movement and if one of her students notices the change of scenery during their live-streamed class two days later, none of them say anything.

#bellarke ff #bellarke fan fiction #bellarke #bellamy x clarke #the 100 #covidー19 #this is very silly nonsense #like...i cannot possibly overstate that

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princesswondora · 4 years

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Introduction

I am not The Flash, and definitely not Supergirl or Wonder Woman (although it would nice to be). I have no super healing, super strength, super speed, super brain, etc. Super height, I guess I do kind of have for a woman my age, but for coming from a mostly German and Norwegian family, I am often one of the shorter people at family gatherings. This doesn't really get me much other than a few extra bruises and bumps from having to keep track of so much body. It also means I'm not super rich because I have to buy special clothes to fit my 6'1" frame. So generally, I am not super.

I am, however, a fairly typical millennial. I am anxious and depressed, will probably never own a home, and I am exhausted about 90% of the time from having to constantly manage the emotions of the older generation because they're too stubborn to just get a therapist like the rest of us. I grew up in a small house in Wisconsin with a middle class family. We worked, we played, and for the most part we still love each other. I honestly didn't even realize how basic my life really was until I moved to Florida for grad school and really started connecting with people. "Oh you also grew up in a middle class family with one sibling and you miss them but not enough to move closer than 2 hours away? Me too!" We like to think we are special and unique, but there comes a time in life when we all realize that we are all more or less the same person doing the same things as everyone else. Hell, even me just starting this blog about running and how much COVID-19 sucks is basic. It has been done before and it made whoever did it feel special and unique, and now it's my turn to pretend like I have something new and special to contribute to the running blog world (spoiler alert: I don't but I'm going to do it anyway).

Part of the fun of having been born in the early 1990's has been watching the world slowly go to shit over the span of my life. Had I been born any earlier or later, growing up in this rapidly evolving world may have been a bit easier. I know what floppy disks and hit clips are, but I also tend to stay fairly up to date on social media (just not TikTok because I have a tiny bit of a life). Watching the gradual decline of humanity over the past few years has lead me to wonder if maybe the world was always this shitty and the decline is a perceived effect as a result of my aging, or maybe the world really is falling apart. It is hard for me to truly judge the world since every single one of my data points is biased in a completely different way. Really this is more of something to ponder once I get a bit older. We still have to get through 2020.

This brings me to why I really am writing this (no, not just to feel special). In June 2020, I fell victim to the novel coronavirus, COVID-19. It was honestly one of the worst months of my life. I have run a half marathon with an upper respiratory infection and this was somehow worse. It started as just extreme nausea with a fever and aches so bad my skin hurt. Then one day that mysteriously went away. The next day I woke up unable to breathe. For some reason lying on my face made breathing slightly easier so I spent a week just lying there focusing on breathing. Since I am a massive nerd, I also took notes on all my symptoms and read papers on everything we know so far about COVID-19. Turns out life is pretty boring when you can't breathe. I did eventually recover although it took about a month before I could walk upstairs without needing to sit down for a bit at the top.

Since my appetite came back all at once, I ended up gaining back a bunch of weight since I was FAMISHED after weeks of barely eating anything. This was very much an issue as I have struggled with eating disorders and body dysmorphia (more on this later) since before middle school. I am still struggling with my feelings towards my body today after having survived a disease that has killed over half a million people in less than a year.

This blog is the story of my path towards increased self appreciation and love through exercise, mental and physical health tricks I've picked up through the years, and comic books. I hope my journey to a healthy mind and body helps to inspire you and your community to care a bit more for each other and most importantly yourselves.

#mental disorder #mental health #running #runblr #fitspo #fitness #eating disoder recovery #eating diary #running diary #dc comics #self love #self appreciation #covidquarantine

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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1089.

1 - Aside from the necessities (eating, breathing etc.) what is something you do every single day, without fail? >> Check gmail, tumblr, discord. Do my Flight Rising dailies.

2 - Do you use cash or card the most? Do you find yourself using card or contactless methods more since COVID hit? >> I use card almost exclusively (some of the less technologically up-to-date stalls at the farmer’s market make me run back to the ATM sometimes, but other than that I never carry cash). This was even before COVID, so nothing has changed for me there. 3 - Is there anything you enjoy that’s considered childish for your age? What is it? >> I don’t call anything I enjoy “childish” and I don’t think other people should either.

4 - Who’s your favourite voice actor? What’s the best thing they’ve been in? >> I don’t have one. Keith David has a great voice, though, I do love him. And of course there’s Ron Glass (RIP) :’(

5 - How many times a day do you use the bathroom? >> Like twice, normally. Three or four if I have a lot of beverages.

6 - Do you need caffeine to wake up in the morning? What’s your drink of choice? >> I don’t need anything to wake up in the morning -- sleep is one area I’ve never had serious problems in, and thank god for that, because imagine how much worse my mental health would be if I did...

7 - Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? If you’re an introvert, do you feel like you live in a world built for extroverts? >> I prefer being alone or in very small groups (and infrequently, even then), let’s just put it that way.

8 - What do you do with old clothes you no longer want or need? >> I usually end up throwing them away, unfortunately. I used to give them to Goodwill but then I realised how much of that stuff eventually gets thrown away anyway because it doesn’t get sold and they just get way too much stuff. COVID kind of interrupted this year’s possibilities, but in the future I’m probably going to look up local nonprofit homeless services and see if they need anything I have. 9 - How old were you when you got your first pet (not a family pet, but one that you were solely responsible for)? >> I have never had this particular experience.

10 - What is something popular or fashionable that you consider to be a real waste of money? >> ---

11 - Do you donate to charity? >> No.

12 - Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? >> Livestock, yeah, because there are a lot of farms once you get even a mile or two outside of the city. Not so much wildlife, just your general squirrels and crows and the occasional deer family.

13 - Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? >> More rural than urban, but not so rural that it’s an all-day affair just to get groceries, you know. Also, I like having the Internet.

14 - Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? >> Honestly, just... being Inworld. That’s my safe zone. Even if it doesn’t make the bad feelings go away right away (that’s not always possible), it is always at least grounding and comforting to be hugged by Can Calah, or to hear D or Bruni’s voice.

15 - If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? >> I bring that stuff Inworld. It’s really difficult to be that vulnerable outworld, although I try to make small forays into vulnerability on places like my blog or certain Discord servers. They’re still small forays, though -- I’m really just testing the waters, not actually swimming like I probably should be if I want to really work at it.

16 - Do you get your five portions of fruits and veggies everyday? >> Not every day, no. I wish it were easier for me to pull that off, but it really is not.

17 - What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? >> My room, by choice. I like it in here, it’s my space. The first space of my own I’ve had since 2009, which was the only other time I had space of my own (and then I didn’t even enjoy it because I was horribly depressed and isolated and constantly broke).

18 - If you have pets, do you snuggle with them when you’re having a bad time? Does it make you feel better? >> That’s a thing Sparrow does, but it doesn’t do anything for me. Maybe if I had an emotional support dog...

19 - Would you ever sign up to be in the military? What if there was enforced conscription, would you go or would you object? >> Fuck. No. Fuck no. Nope. Fuck no. I’d literally rather commit suicide. Did I make myself clear?

20 - Would you ever want to go to any kind of fitness bootcamp, or does that sound like utter hell to you? >> That does sound like utter hell to me.

21 - What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? What was it that made it so bad? >> ---

22 - If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you? >> I have always been most interested in the kind of gardening that was just about caring for native plants and helping them to flourish. Learning the complex intricacies of the ecosystem around me and doing my part to preserve it. Like if there needs to be more pollinators, having some hives. Or if there was once a planted lawn on the property I live on, rehabilitating the soil and replacing it with native grasses instead. I would also like to grow herbs and vegetables, and any kind of flower that is native or at least not invasive to this particular environment (especially if it’s yellow! I love all yellow flowers). I imagine it would be perfectly achievable if we ever moved into a house.

23 - Do you believe there’s life on other planets? If so, do you think it’s anything like humanity? >> I think it’s highly probable that there’s life elsewhere, but highly improbable that it’d be like humanity. But maybe like other life on this planet, particularly microbes, sure.

24 - Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep? >> No, I usually fall asleep within a half-hour of laying down, as long as I’m not doing anything brain-intensive.

25 - if you drive, how many times a week do you have to fill up your car with fuel? If you don’t drive, how much do you spend a week on travel/transport? >> I don’t go anywhere, period. When I used to go places (pre-COVID), I probably spent about $30 a month tops on public transportation. Usually more like $15.

26 - What did you get the last time you went out for fast food? >> The last fast food we had was Steak and Shake, but through DoorDash. I got the jalapeño crunch burger, like I used to, but I won’t be ordering burgers anymore because I think my GI tract is over red meat (or, at least, the highly processed variety).

27 - Do you tend to snack when you’re watching TV or sitting at the computer? What’s your favourite thing to snack on? >> I like to watch something while I’m eating a meal, but I don’t really snack for the sake of snacking or anything. I just plan the two things to happen at the same time whenever I can.

28 - When was the last time you went to a zoo or wildlife park type place? >> Uh... Labor Day last year? I think?

29 - Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them? >> I do think it’s cruel. I don’t see how any sort of condition could be okay for this, no matter how hard you try. Just... go on a safari. Watch a nature documentary. Why do you have to keep wild animals in your house? Domesticated dogs and cats and lizards and shit are literally right there (and a lot of them are in shelters, just waiting for a dedicated caregiver!).

30 - If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it? >> I don’t eat a lot of meat because I don’t really crave it. Like, it doesn’t strike me as necessary for a meal, probably because I was raised not eating it. I eat chicken most often because Sparrow makes a lot of meals that include it (and fried chicken sandwiches are my kryptonite). My preference for meat-eating is to eat from local sources that employ sustainable, ecologically-informed farming practices -- but, you know. I also live in America, as well as below the poverty line for a two-person household, so this stuff is difficult. It’s often easier (and insanely cheaper) to just not eat meat at all, which may be partly how that became such a big fad.

#surveys #survey #random surveys #not for reblogging *glare*

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shmegel · 4 years

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Stream of Consciousness Texts That I Sent to A Large Grouptext of Friends at 2 AM Again Like The Unhinged Woman I Am: Coronavirus and Chronic Illness Edition

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My dad started talking about giving my brother hope about the school year and going back to school, and I’m realizing that’s probably happening before the vaccine (which will likely come out around January). What the heck am I gonna do? Do I need to move out? Schools are gonna be where this thing spreads. My brother will bring it home, I don’t know what I’m going to do about it?

I wish I were healthy so the prospect of living on my own wouldn’t be so scary. I’m so weak and exhausted, I feel like making three meals a day, doing my own laundry and cleaning, and somehow handling groceries (I guess Shipt and sanitizing them myself) would be too much for me to do alone with my limited energy. And that’s not even taking into account factors like what to do in flares when I’m BEYOND sick like can’t get out of bed, or finding a place safely, or not losing my mind alone. I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about this.

I just want to be healthy, guys.

It’s so upsetting because this could’ve been over months ago if the majority of people took it seriously quickly. If everyone stayed inside for just two frickin weeks we could’ve been fine. But now some of us may have to do it for a year because this stupid country isn’t even compassionate enough to sacrifice two gotdang weeks for the weakest of us. And I’m one of the lucky ones, able to stay in like this for maybe a year! Others just die! I’m frustrated that this is a situation in the first place, and I’m frustrated that I’m sick enough that it still could kill me even months after people have stopped caring. I never asked for this. I’ve done everything I can to be healthy. I spend more time trying to improve my health than any one of you and yet I’m the one still sick at the end of the day with very few improvements. I’m so tired.

I would be tired even without Covid, but this is just highlighting the inequity in disability. It’s highlighting the privilege many have of being able to NOT worry about health, about doing nothing to stay healthy and still having infinitely more energy than someone working hard on health and getting nowhere. God I wish I could be as carefree as those spring breakers hanging out in crowds on the beach for no reason other than they can and they don’t care. I wish I didn’t have to care. I still would, but I wish it wasn’t forced upon me. I hate that even if individuals have basic empathy (which of course many don’t), our system lacks it. This country makes me sick. Literally.

I wish I could just fly to another country with low Covid numbers (one that allows flying in if you obey their mandatory quarantine), quarantine for two weeks, then start over. I’m sick of this country anyway. Unfortunately, that would require me to be in a US airport and in a US airplane, so I can’t even do last resort stuff.

And I doubt anyone has the same level of quarantine we’re doing here- no outside cooked food, just cookable groceries. Thoroughly sanitizing everything that comes in. Not even leaving the house for work or grocery shopping. And most importantly the fact that I’ll be doing it until I’m positive it’s safe, which will probably be until there’s a vaccine.

I guess I’ll just super-quarantine in my own house. Stay six feet away from everyone. Everyone wearing masks at all times. No touching anything that anyone else might touch. I don’t know, it just seems daunting to know that many months from now things will not only have not improved for me, but will have gotten worse. Especially since this whole thing was entirely preventable- I wish Cheeto in Chief had an ounce of compassion. I wish he was punished with the disease- even if he had survived it might’ve taught him it was real and dangerous early on. I wish my life mattered to this country, this system, and to millions of people here. I mean, if you knew someone would die if you didn’t simply stay in your house for two weeks, wouldn’t you do it? I can’t believe that same logic doesn’t apply to lives like mine for so many people.

Anyway, what do I have to look forward to when all this is over? Shopping? Restaurants? Seeing friends maybe once a week? Petty. It’s all petty. I wasn’t working toward anything before this except for health, and that’s not going to be fixed because I can’t even get any blood tests right now, let alone have doctors do any in-person appointments and important checks like MRIs, X-rays, CT scans. Everything put on hold and nothing on the other side. You all have jobs and education and lives outside of the house- I really don’t. I mean, I had a part time job but it’s not like it’s working toward something, and I may have lost it in the pandemic anyway. You have jobs and new houses and apartments and boyfriends and education and children and energy to do pretty much anything you need to do and exciting or productive lives to live. What do I get when I come out of this? Probably just a bunch of cavities to fill because this happened when Sjögren’s Syndrome started melting my teeth and they can’t do much without more tests. I really have nothing to look forward to- that’s part of why this has been easy (I’m not missing much) but it’s also why thinking ahead proves to be just... disturbing. I try to stay positive but my day to day life has felt pointless for a long time, and in the short term that doesn’t matter, but god it’s a terrible thing to confront when I recognize that my only two options in a few months are going to be stay inside and feel sick OR leave my house and feel sick, and either way I don’t get anything done or really work toward anything except feeling ok, which I may never. I may never feel ok! I miss feeling like I have purpose. I still have ambition but it’s undirected because honestly I don’t think I have the energy to do any of the stuff I used to picture myself doing. So I don’t know what I want to happen here. Honestly this virus and my quarantine could go on for years and I would feel the same as I do now. I felt stuck long before the quarantine, because I’m not stuck in this house, I’m stuck in my own weak body.

And I’m sure this is disturbing to read because I’m kinda mildly fine most of the time and optimistic and positive and all that, and I know I blow up probably once a week at this point so maybe it doesn’t even seem that way anymore??? At least I still act that way in person, lucky you guys get to read my terrible rants. But I just want someone to see this, you know? I want someone to know that me being positive isn’t an accident, that it’s hard work against the mountain of garbage being thrown at me mostly by MY OWN BODY. It’s terrible in concept. I’m actually feeling fine right now mentally but I need someone to know the concepts I’m wrestling with: the fact that my worst enemy is me and it’s by no fault of my own. I was dealt a bad hand. Even in the very best of circumstances, without Covid, I’m living a pretty unfulfilling life. Sickness makes it hard enough- to be at higher risk of death or permanent damage in addition to that is just cruel. I just wish I could project this into everyone’s brain so they could understand why it matters so much that people freaking care about each other enough to protect each other from having even more difficult lives- or even deaths. I want to survive!!!! I’m clawing at the walls of suffering until my fingernails bleed!!! I keep it in my head that I’m gonna get out of this pain someday even if that’s not necessarily true!!! All I want is to live and to live well. I just want to live well. I’m happy to live and to survive so it’s gotta get better someday. I just wish the world cared a little bit more. I wish I had something tangible and fulfilling to look forward to. In this moment, I can be happy and read a book or watch TV, but I wish the other type of happiness was a factor in my life again, the sense of fulfillment and accomplishment. Sickness has taken so much from me.

#chronic illness #chronic fatigue #quarantine #sjogrens #lupus #covid 19 #coronavirus #long post #personal

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veronicaaabrown · 3 years

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It’s been almost a year... here are some things That happened… I will be talking through my phone so if anything is incorrect, any run on sentences, anything sounds like shit it’s literally because I am talking to my phone and it is typing this baby out because I just don’t care to write it out to be honest so here we go here are some things that I learned here are some things that happened and I’m just grateful for life overall. Y’all ready?

Not everyone is your friend. People really don’t care for you no matter how much they can try or how much they think they’re doing for you, they can give no fucks.

Secondly, family sometimes is really all you have. Sure they may talk shit about you, not really care about your dreams, not really care about your ventures, tell you to get something that’s practical, and make sure they make you feel like shit when they really want to… But they are literally all I have. And I’m at the point in my life where it’s like I can at least keep that barrier up so that I’m not trampled by the negativity which is way better than having outside energies that you question about, “Friends.” Who say they believe in you but like really don’t believe in you. Which is so fucked up by the way. But to be honest it’s like really fine because I’d rather deal with my families energy then anyone else… And I’m not saying my whole family is like super negative either? What I’m saying is that sometimes energy just isn’t there and that’s what I’m learning and it’s OK ...

AnyWho so let’s recap what happened this year…

I moved back home at the beginning of 2020More like December 20, 2019.. And it was one of the most sad depressing most, agitating feelings I had ever felt in my life. I just never really thought I’d come back home but I’m doing pretty fine now and here I am.

At the beginning of 2020 I was living with my father for like two months maybe? And I got into a huge argument with my brothers and my little sisters mom and that was only because I was fighting for my father & the fact that everyone kind of takes advantage of the situation… And like my father is a kind hearted man am I so a lot of the men in my family.. but sometimes people just take take take and don’t realize what they doing and so I got into a huge argument with my siblings and it was terrible it was one of the worst things that I’ve ever happened to me, the things that were said to me, I felt like I will never forget those things… I’ll never forget how I felt.

Ummm.. another thing that happened was actually amazing was that because I couldn’t find a job at the time before February was over - covxd happened, and to be honest thank you God. I was in so much depression and so much anxiety that all I could ever ask was for the world to stop just for me and because of my situation because of the things I was going through I felt like God made away even though it was the worst way for the world, the earth, humanity, I just felt like I needed a break and I am thankful? That this happened because I needed my world to stop!

As all of the changes were happening I decided to move to my grandparents house as I was supposed to go anyways, like that was the destination I was supposed to be living at… But the way sometimes my grandparents are set up I just kind of scary you know what I’m saying. Sometimes you just can’t do nothing wrong or you’ll be hexed Ha ha ha I’m kidding, no I’m not… And I think the fear of messing up I think the fear of not having my own space I think the fear of not being comfortable really had me fucked up and I’m talking about so fucked up, so fucked up I literally went insane..

I saw myself waking up to heart palpitations, anxiety attacks, not being able to breathe, tight chest, out of air, not be able to think straight, suicidal thoughts that I never thought I’d see after taking some anxiety medication, but I am actually still scared after that... They don’t come up frequently but you know how the brain works if you’ve ever experienced this. I thought this year I literally was not going to make it.. There’s like no jobs in this town and there’s definitely like no big opportunities to make a lot of money compared to when I lived in the bigger city. It was like I was figuring out who I was, as if I had opened up Pandora’s box or some shit and it made me feel like I was literally crazy, like if I was going to submit myself into an insane fucking place, whatever they’re called and I had to pray on this shit because there was no way out of it,. I literally had no idea who I was I was this format of what ever that felt like I was floating in a 3-D world because nothing felt real anymore and that’s because I knew something was wrong with me and I couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was.. it just was a lot in my body and in my soul and I felt like my soul was screaming for help and I felt like there was nothing that no one could do to get me out of it. And so I called onto God. I called onto him and I asked him to help me, I asked him to keep me under his wing basically, And I told him to please take out anyone who could be hurting me in anyway or bringing their energy onto me so that I stay stuck in this bad energy type shit like what the fuck, it was so bad like if I could explain the way I felt if I could explain the way that I looked at the world, as if I was so scared of what was happening in the world but like not because of Covid but because of like the world is actually scary that is what I mean that was what I felt. The greatest metaphor or the greatest comparison that I think would be the movie capital SOUL, the Disney Pixar movie, Yeah that one the part where they go into the depression area where there’s dark souls and stuff .. if there’s anything that could compare to it would be that. It would literally be that. it felt like I was under a spell..

AnyWho after prayer and after Catholic prayer and after prayer of my own… Everything slowly turned around doc to me I felt like God was real because there was no way in hell that I felt like I was getting out of the situation I was if I just keep living my life the way I did. I’m not saying I’m super religious But definitely like, definitely spiritual on all levels for sure. And to be honest like I can only think God for what he has done for me, for giving me back my sanity, for speaking through me and for allowing me to break away from anything I did not serve me. I lost a few friends which, I believe ppl overdue their seasons anyways and I am not the type of person to keep friends for long periods of time.. So def happy that happened ..I was learning about energies and how to maintain my energy and keep my energy positive and it showed and redeem some things that I didn’t really wanna see and realize that I had to actually stop talking to a few other people just because of that… Sorry guys if you ever see this, I just had to do it.

I just wanted to say that I also did start my clothing line amparomerced.com. I also did in fact start content creating again on my personal YouTube & Instagram because I felt like I really wanted to do that and it was just something I always wanted to do since I was like in high school so I’m just continuing to follow the dreams that I know my soul wants and I know that is going to be for me… So I made a whole plan for this year and how I’m going to conquer that and I’m just really excited to tackle it and show you guys what I’m doing and it’s just you guys wow, I think this year is going to be magical.

I also did lose weight this year I think I lost about 30 pounds I am not sure because at the beginning of the year I definitely was like 375, and I am around and under 350 at this point and I only say this because the pictures only makes sense that I could’ve been that big and my measurements but to be honest like I’m just really proud of myself I wish I wasn’t scared to step on the scale In January 20 20 but to be honest like I’m just taking care of myself and I know that I’m on the right path because the weight is dropping off, like hallelujah like we are killing it y’all so.. yesb

Another thing that happened this year was that I found out I had a brain disease? A brain disorder? But basically my brain swells in the back of my head causing Chronic pain and spinal pain, it has a lot to do with my nervous system I guess and it’s called Charrie Malformation, it’s definitely been a lot a lot and not something that I had expected. They found some liquid behind my eyes and determined that it was just something that they would have to take out, I finally went to a Neurologist and he basically told me that I would have to go to MRI and go to a neurosurgeon to see if I was a candidate for brain surgery… So much fun. And this was on the day before my birthday let’s not forget that… But when it turns out the day before Thanksgiving I was declared to not have brain surgery and that even though my size of the brain would be a candidate for brain surgery I would be fine without it because I didn’t have the chronic pain issues as frequently as regular candidates would have so because my back and my neck was hurting it was literally just because of the situation…

How this brain issue came about: This situation became more frequent in my life in December 2018 when I was working at Guess inc. and the reason why I say this is because that was the first time I ever became aware of how my body was functioning, how much weight I was gaining, how much I cannot see at the left side of my eyes, and how much I had changed in being at this job for about less than four months,. The job really did fuck me up to be honest and ever since then I have had this situation happened to me and I was never aware of it prior or never aware of it at all to be honest. stress can really kill you boys and girls It can really fuck you up so make sure you take care of yourselves and quit those jobs that you don’t like because fuck those jobs fuck those people fuck anything else that doesn’t serve you a greater purpose in life and that’s just on PERIODT.

AnyWho back to now.. I live in my grandparents Basement. I’m really grateful for them, I stop looking at life like it was against me and started thinking that life was for me… You know a lot of good things came out of the situation as far as figuring out my health finding out how to control anxiety and depression, figuring out the life that I actually really want to live, and really diving deep into who do I want to be in my lifetime here on earth… Like who do I want to be here, and to be honest I really want to be someone great… I want to live until I’m like 70 or 80 years old just like my great grandmother she was, actually like 93 I think… But I would really love to live a long life like her .. I would really like to grow legacy and I would really just like to not be afraid of life...

Out of all the learning experiences that this year that I’ve learned is that to be honest you can be anyone you want to be… You can have the job of your dreams you can live the life you really want to live and you can grow prosperous and be rich if you really wanted to… And although I live in my grandparents basement and my things are in boxes in barrels and I’m living on their bed that was a spare bed and The things that I have are put into 90 or 80’s Furniture like I am just so happy I have the opportunity to take a step back and really view life the way I can view it now… It’s really not that bad it’s really actually pretty fucking great if you ask me… Because I’m not paying rent and although I had a really cool life before this living in the big city and paid loads of money on rent… at least I’m not like super depressed or dealing with depression anymore, at least I’m like in a good mental health space and my grandparents allowed me to do that by being patient with me… I’m just like truly thankful for them like you guys have no idea and to be honest like if you were ever given the opportunity to move back home, and you think it’s going to be like the worst thing in the world, just do it. It’ll help you grow.

just look at life as it’s like you only have one life and you can change everything about it and in 2021 like that is what I’m going to do… I feel like 2020 give me the opportunity to plant my seeds to plant the life that I always wanted to live to give me a vision to look forward to life to look forward to the things that I never looked forward to before and I think that within this time it has given me The ability to really love who I am really love the skin I’m in and really love the person that I can truly be… And I think at this point in my life is that I am so comfortable with being alone & single that there is no way in hell that anyone can try to make me want to date them unless they have greater access to some higher spirituality shit that’s really going to turn me on and make me feel like yes this is it… Like I really don’t wanna be with anyone and I think that is the greatest lesson that I feel like what? How the hell did I get to that type of level.. Where I felt like I liked myself more than anyone else in this world? Now I think that is powerful… So whoever decides to come my way better level the fuck up because you know what, I will be single for the rest my life if I have to… I would rather fulfill my personal needs and feed into my soul th- someone else’s who can take take take take and never get back and I think that is the most rewarding thing this whole year (2020) has taught me. To be you, be free, and to love who you really are… No matter the good or the bad… No matter how you see yourself, to help people see you, the judgment in the world, it doesn’t fucking matter at all… That was my lesson in 2020… Because the world literally revolves around you.

So to be honest I’m just really thankful I’m just really thankful for everything that I’ve been through… I’m really thankful that I got to learn about myself that I got to open a box full of demons and really FaceTime… And really understand that I was just hiding from myself and that I was just so sad with the way that life I turned out that I didn’t realize that there was a life in front of me waiting for it… I’m just so happy that I have things to look forward to and I can spend the rest of my life, because I will live until I’m like 80 years old, doing the things that I love that feed my soul and that will show me the world it’s not against me it’s working for me in the universe is here we’re just waiting for me to get my ass up… And I did this was the first year in two years that I completed a vision board for what I wanted for my life in 2021, and I feel like for the first time in so long I have so much to look forward to and I’m just so proud of myself and it makes me cry because wow like I got myself out of my head I got myself away from the things that no longer benefited me and I got away from the things that were pulling me down… And I think that is the most powerful thing someone can do for themselves when they feel like the world Is literally over.

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shelbyeri · 4 years

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The Beginning or the end 🤷🏻‍♀️

Someone has asked to write a story about what I’ve been through since my mother passed away from Covid and they basically want to know more about who I am so they can write better.

I really wish it was easy to tell you who I am, but I’m not sure I know anymore.

I am always changing and 2020 has by far been the most difficult year for so many reasons.

I can maybe say who I was, who I may have become and who I feel like I am now, but i’m not sure how well I could translate it to words here. At least enough for anyone to understand me a bit better. I suppose I’ll have to try though.

When my mom passed away from being infected with Covid in the hospital earlier this year (2020) it was difficult, to say the least.

The Covid pandemic was really in full swing and killing many of us around the world so when my mother had to go into the hospital, deep inside I knew it was the worst time she could ever have been admitted.

They were yet taking any precautions, there was no mask wearing and definitely no distancing so it was dangerous to be out in public or near anyone and much much worse to be in a hospital...., everyone there was exposed to this virus. I still try to think positive because that’s really all I know how to do. Or at least all I have trained myself to do over the years.

One of my favorite sayings goes something like.... “expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed.”

Anyway.....As the days passed, I remained in some denial & strongly believing she just needed some care before they let her come home, but she WOULD be coming home. She always did!!! So why would I think different now?

Yes, I know why...but I didn’t allow myself to think such negative things.

I wasn’t able to think about life without her, nor did I want to.

A few months earlier I lost someone who I also deeply cared about and I felt there was no way I could lose anyone else in such a short amount of time. I couldn’t let that happen, as if I had any control over any of it, but for my own sanity I had to believe I did.

I have always closed myself off to believing anybody I loved would die or not be there someday. so when it happens, it’s almost unbelievable to me and possibly traumatizing in ways.

This Might have been unhealthy but A world without someone whom I felt so close to or had a deep connection with or like my mom... so essential to my life and a part of who I am as a person .... it was just not something I wished to think about or experience, mentally or otherwise.

Especially not while that person were still there. I saw no reason to imagine such a tragedy.

I prefer to cherish the time I have with the person while they are still very much with me. I don’t want to imagine what would happen when they were gone. What purpose with that serve other than bringing me pain.

I will admit though, in doing this, it did leave me utterly unprepared for this reality when it was presented to me.

I did so well at keeping depressing thoughts like this buried deep within that when it happened it truly seemed unreal and impossible... surprising even!

So keeping all or most negativity to a minimum throughout my life has been helpful and I think it’s actually a good thing but then sometimes I wonder. Should we avoid thinking of inevitable situations such as this?

It seems so morbid to actually prepare for them.

Of course other than when someone’s been sick for a long time and you know it’s coming. That you might want to prepare for, but really I don’t know.

I could avoid it no longer. There she was and reality suddenly shifted to something horrific and I understood why I never wanted to Think of it before. This was not a moment I wanted to live through before I absolutely had to.

The nurse was nice enough to offer us a FaceTime with my mother before they turned off her respirator so we could say goodbye.

I finally had to look at her lying comatose and alone in her hospital bed, while the nurse, covered from head to toe in what looked like a space suit but reminded me of all those outbreak movies where everyone was in those hazmat type suits to protect themselves from the contagious patients. It truly seemed unreal.

we couldn’t be there with her, couldn’t hold her hand or tell her we were there with her to help her fight. This was all we got & all she got, but I was so thankful to finally be with her in a way....

It wasn’t easy though..., it felt like my heart was physically in pain... All my emotions rushed out and I felt this huge wave of pain run through my entire body toward my heart which felt like it could literally explode or break from the tremendous sadness I had no control over.

I cried to her almost begging her not to go but knowing it wasn’t possible. I think I expected a miracle even though I knew there would be none. I felt desperate and my brain ached from trying to understand how this could be happening... WHY this was happening.

Did I do something wrong? Was I being punished? So many questions running through my mind making me just want to shut off and stop thinking somehow before all these things just killed me.

Even right now as I write this, it’s all coming back. Every time I think I’m okay, it comes racing in to show me that I am so not okay. I wonder how long will I feel this way or how often is this going to sneak up on me forcing me to feel all that pain all over again.

I just looked as she lie there, wanting to say something but not really knowing what... I just remember crying so hard that I was not able to really speak. I could barely catch my breath through the tears.

All the things I would never get to say & all the things I will never get to do with her just flooded me intensifying everything I was feeling at that moment.

I may not think of many unpleasant things, but I did always know that this was an inevitable reality and could happen at any moment, but

As I said.... I tend to not worry or think about things unless I have to.

Since she’s been gone, I’ve continued trying to Think about it as little as possible in order to keep my emotions in check. However there are times when it just sneaks out. I try to avoid putting myself in situations where it may come up but there are times it’s unavoidable, such as now, when there is someone trying to help me and needs me to write about my experiences this past year and earlier I suppose, in order to get to know me and my experience better.

We all purchased the home we lived in but my mother was legally The owner of our house and now that she is gone, The state, town whatever says I have no right to live there and I should have not been living in my HOME After my mom passed which is ridiculous.

They want me to prove that I deserve to live in my house.

As if losing my mother along with a big part of my immediate family abandoning me wasn’t enough, the government decided to cut off our power and make us find somewhere else to stay while a deadly pandemic is raging through the country.

The very thing that took my mom is what they are now throwing us from the safety of our house into and sometimes I think maybe it would be better if I also caught it and followed my mom out of this hell hole we call life.....Because it’s sickens me that people would do this to us so why would I want to remain a part of it?

Also, the fact that they did all this, at THIS TIME just makes it obvious that they want us to be destroyed by this disease and with the problems I have with my health, I would most certainly die from it. Once you hear the hoops they made us jump through, you’ll see that they are nothing short of evil.

So even if I thought her death was the worst of it, I could never have imagined how cruel and uncaring this system could be, but now I know.

They have done more to hurt me than ever help me.

And It only got worse from there...,

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earthconstructs · 4 years

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why / the last two years / what I want now / at this point

Simon asked me why I want this job, as it’s not an obvious/traditional career progression for me. It’s a long answer, but something I feel is a worthwhile exercise to set out clearly. It’s an accumulation of the last 2 years of thinking, reading and reflection, and I’m going to try and summarise it all here. It’s all up in my head, but I am always feeling like I’m unable to explain it clearly to other people, and maybe that is because I can’t see it clearly myself.

In order to see how I’ve changed, I thought I might first capture what my life was like in Perth, some context on why I was living like that, and what my influences have been over the last 2 years, to lead me to how I’m thinking now. It’s funny timing writing this actually, on 24 November 2020. As I finished working in my last job on 23 November 2018. It’s been exactly two years.

2018 – the perfect job, no time

Two years ago, when I was working full time in Perth, I was always trying to figure out why I had no time. I had the ‘perfect job’, but I wanted to be spending more time reading, or playing the piano, and it just wasn’t happening. It was something that I wanted to do, so why couldn’t I fit it in? I also felt that I barely had any down time. I was rarely home, and any time that I was home, I was looking after animals when pet sitting, or looking after Kep, doing chores or scrolling on Instagram. I never had time to sit down and read a book. Although I would schedule in hours at the beach to read, I would always end up catching up with a friend instead.

The career crisis in 2015, and what I wanted from a job back then

Some context – I had a career crisis in 2015. I had done all the right things (finished university studies, gone backpacking through Europe for 3 months, got a well-paying job, bought a house) but I was bored and watching the clock at work which I hated. I wanted a job which I loved, that was fun and engaging, meaningful, and was helping people and society. I did a brainstorm of all the things that I enjoyed, that I was good at, and what the potential jobs out of that were:

- Being outside

- Animals, nature

- Driving

- Helping people, teaching

- Seeing the meaningful impact of my work

- And not the impact in that I could see where the mining company I was working for was cutting away the side of a mountain in outback Australia

After exploring some options, I decided I wanted to work at the Water Corporation. I wanted to learn water engineering, and maybe do a field placement overseas one day. I was also feeling frustrated about not being able to see the end customer who I was working for at Rio Tinto (China and India’s construction industry seemed so far away) and hoped that at the Water Corporation, I’d feel more connected to the end customer.

This ended up to be true. I loved working for my state, in the regional team. It felt really lucky that one of the graduate engineers was finishing up his rotation in the team and needed to hand over the sniffer dog project to someone. We asked our managers if I could take over the project, they said yes, and that’s how I ended up with the most fun project that I could have ever imagined working on.

Which brings me back to the end of 2018 – perfect job and no time

The job was perfect because it ticked all my previous requirements:

- I could see the impact of my work in the community, providing an essential service throughout Australia

- My work was helping the environment by saving water in Australia’s dry climate

- I was working with DOGS

- I was working with DOGS, OUTSIDE - walking around where pipes were laid in the countryside, DRIVING out to the countryside, bliss

- I was doing something new and exciting that has never been done before, which meant I got involved in driving corporate innovation, with a project that was celebrating an unexpected, but simple and cost effective solution to a complex asset management problem, and I won an internal innovation award for my work. My work was fun, engaging and rewarding.

I was rolling out the implementation of the project, and finalising all the documentation, while travelling to site with Kep to get her trained and ready for handover, presenting at conferences in Perth, Brisbane, Melbourne, Sydney, speaking at events such as Engineers Australia’s ‘Young Innovative Engineers’ event, and also making time for filming for internal media communications, state news broadcasts, meeting our Minister for Water, and visiting schools to help to spread the Waterwise message. This meant that people were always asking after, or wanting an update on how the project was going. And after seeing her on TV, people in the community started to recognise Kep. I felt like I was under constant scrutiny, and that I couldn’t hide. Part of my job was also to look after Kep, exercise her (a high energy doggo) on non work days, and taking her to vet appointments, which added to the reason that I could never really switch off from work.

As well as working full time, I was also teaching piano, catching up with friends, cooking healthy food, and getting myself to yoga and gym classes. I eventually realised that it wasn’t reasonable to assume that I could fit in more than I already was. There just wasn’t enough time to do it all. I didn’t have that much time for hobbies, let alone time to be by myself, thinking and reflecting. I didn’t spend much time thinking. I was always doing, always distracted, never really reflecting, thank goodness for yoga, at least I was having some kind of down time. And I never really reflected. I never reflected on what I wanted or what I wanted to do next. But that was ok, because I had plenty of time to do that when I moved to Germany. (There were also other reasons, i.e. nihilism, why I liked to keep myself busy and distracted.)

2018 to 2020 – the two year process

I pushed through with the busy life right up until I flew out to Germany. I was excited to move to and start a new adventure. I planned to get there, do some travel, do some reading, learn German, have heaps of free time to read books and play the piano.

But instead, I had an existential crisis once I arrived. I felt that while I enjoyed my work in Perth, and I’d just finished up in the “perfect job”, I hadn’t really chosen any of it, and that I ended up doing it because of luck. But really, it was what I wanted at the time. I think I was also pretty burnt out.

The dangers of having too little to do - The School of Life

The importance of a breakdown - The School of Life

In the last 2 years, I have done so much reflecting. I can see things in myself that I had never noticed before. I’ve learnt so much, and grown up so much.

These were the influences:

- It’s not that I don’t have time, it’s that it’s not a priority - Ted Talk by Laura Vanderkam

- I realised I was too busy and too distracted to really know myself. I realised that a lot of my internal conflict was because I didn’t know what I truly wanted

- Mindfulness, slow, conscious living – doing each thing with intention, not multitasking too much

- My mum had a near death experience, I looked after her as she settled back into home life after she was discharged from hospital. I guess it was a classic example of, you never know what can happen. Don’t wait to tell people you love them etc.

- Being Mortal – does staying alive for as long as possible (propped up on medicine, or in the worst case, life support machine) matter more, or does quality of life matter more?

- Do less but better - Essentialism – The Disciplined Pursuit of Less Greg McKeown

- The underrated importance of play, creativity, and doing things with our hands

- Aeon articles on capitalism

In Summary:

I realised that I was burnt out. I was doing way too much, way too much compared to what humans were designed to do.

I had played into this paradigm of do better / aim high / you can achieve anything / what have you achieved / be more / show yourself / you are special.

Now, I am trying to balance the merits of a full time job, while leaving brain space free for the other things that are important in life, that give my life meaning.

Earlier this year just before the COVID pandemic started actually, I wrote out what my drivers for life are now:

- Understanding

- Enjoyment

- Appreciation

I am aiming to:

- Live in the present more

- Enjoy what I have right now

- Appreciate the little things

- Live slower, more mindfully and more consciously

- Get to know Europe

- Have the brain space to make sense of the world, people, systems in the way that I need to

- Resist modern life and busy-ness

And so, what I want in a job now is:

A job where, when I’m not at the job, I’m not thinking about it. What the New Jazz teacher said on his channel really stuck with me - he works as a bus driver because when he’s not driving a bus, he’s not thinking about how to drive the bus.

I want to free up my creative brain. I want to leave space in my brain for the other things that make my life meaningful.

I’ve had the intense job that was fun, rewarding, but I struggled to fit in my hobbies. Work took up too much of my time and my brain space, and I don’t want to do that again. I was burnt out, too invested in my job, I couldn’t switch off, I had trouble sleeping. I don’t want to live my life like that.

In the last two years, I’ve come to accept that I’m a simple human being. A good night’s sleep, a healthy diet, social contact and connection, hobbies that you enjoy, exercise, and a routine and sense that you are contributing towards something are the basic needs that I want to fulfil for myself.

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