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#i also took another test today. for another school i applied to this spring
disdaidal · 1 year
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Good news: your girl got a call from her school today, passed all her exams and is getting her high school diploma this spring/summer, so yay.
I’m “only” 34 after all, but what the fuck. I did it.
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twobuckhowie · 1 year
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Many Many Moons Ago
   Yes, many many moons ago there was (and still is) an annual herbaceous flowing plant cultivated throughout recorded history as a source of industrial fiber, seed oil, food, recreation, medicine, and religious practices that I partook in. (Spiritually speaking.) It was also illegal to have traces of it in your blood system if you were in the military, applied for jobs, or, as in my case, got hurt on the job.
   I have nothing bad to say about the company I worked for because they were very good to me for twenty years. It was just a corporate policy.
   By this time in my life I had quit smoking this herbaceous for about five years. Except! (Of course there wouldn't be a story without an "Except.")
   Except at a party, on New Year's Eve, at my friends house. After a few beers, a few laughs, I thought, "What the Hell." So I smoked a little, or a lot. It was a party.
   In the middle of February, of that new year, I break my foot while on the job. After going to the hospital, getting a cast on, I went home expecting four weeks of playing video games while my kids were at school.
   After one week of relaxation I get a call from Human Resources saying I have to go to such and such clinic for a drug test. If I didn't go in I would be terminated.
   Being superstitious, I believed what every Rastafarian had said to me. That there would be traces of this herbal spiritual drug was going to be in my blood system for up to six weeks!
   I panicked.
   So I took the advice of one Rastaman and bought a box of
"Quick Tabs - Herbal Clean."
Which I just found stuffed way back in an old cupboard while doing some spring cleaning.
   I bought them around 2001. (I wonder if they are still good?)
   I can't tell you if it worked or not. But I didn't have anything in my system to warrant termination. I worked for the same company for at least another seven years.
   Now, in the State of California, potential employers can't even test for it!
This is,
I Checked Out Their Website Today
And They No Longer Sell
"Quick Tabs"
For Cleansing Your System Of
Cannabis Sativa
Just Regular Detox Solutions For A Healthier You
Jim Hauenstein
And
“The illegality of cannabis is outrageous, an impediment to full utilization of a drug which helps produce the serenity and insight, sensitivity and fellowship so desperately needed in this increasingly mad and dangerous world.” - Carl Sagan -
That is my story and I am sticking to it!
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I would love to hear from you
Thanks for reading
Be kind to everyone
I'll be seeing you
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rickybowensfever · 3 years
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The Smoothie - HSMTMTS SickFic
I’ve had this story brewing in my head and saved for a couple months on my desktop, so figured I’d finish it up. 
Set during Season 1 - Ricky gets sick when E.J. gives him a smoothie out of revenge to become the lead in High School Musical. But, Nini doesn't believe him. Read the story on AO3. 
Opening night was just four days away and flu season had struck the students at East High as Spring sprung.
Sniffles, coughs, and tissues, oh my.
Miss Jenn constantly had her students applying hand sanitizer every five minutes. “Hand sanitizer check!” she would shout with the clear bottle in her hands demanding the students to put out their hands.
Backstage, Ricky stood around chatting with the other cast members as Seb and Carlos performed Bop to the Top when EJ approached him holding an orange-colored smoothie in his hand.
“Hey, Ricky!” he exclaimed walking toward the boy.
“Nini asked me to bring this to you. It’s Strawberry Mango, she wanted you to try it” EJ explained him, handing the boy the cold orange drink.
Ricky furrowed his brow, suspicion sinking in. He stood frozen holding the cold drink wondering where Nini was. She hadn’t shown up to rehearsal yet, but he had just seen her in fifth period.
“Alright, thanks” Ricky said grabbing the smoothie from his hand and took a long sip. He let out a refreshing Ahh after pulling away from the delicious beverage.
 Then, EJ ran on stage after hearing a faint call of his name from Ms. Jenn.
Wow. It’s pretty good, Ricky thought to himself and pulled out his phone to text Nini about it.
R: Hey, thanks for the smoothie! Really good.
N: What smoothie?
R: The strawberry mango one u got me?
N:  ??? I didn’t get you a smoothie.
Ricky looked up from his phone in confusion. Why would EJ do that?
R: Oh? EJ gave it to me, and he said you got it for me.
N: What? Ricky, I didn’t even have a smoothie. Are you pranking me or something?
 Ricky threw his hands in the air in distress and locked his phone, leaving Nini’s message on read. Now, he was more confused than ever.
“Ricky! On stage now! Come and get some hand sanitizer!” Ms. Jenn shouted through the auditorium.
 The Next Day
Ricky woke up in his bed shivering and covered in sweat. His throat felt raw, his nose was congested, his body ached, and his head was pounding.
This can’t be happening, he thought to himself , covering his face with his cold pillow.
Then, there as a knock on his door.
“Ricky! Get up. You’re going to be late for school” his father said as he opened the door to see his son lying in bed. 
Mr. Bowen studied his son for a second before he asked, “You okay?”.
Ricky coughed into his fist which just made his throat hurt more.
“No. Not really” he croaked, wincing at the pain in his throat. 
His father immediately walked over to his son’s bed to feel his sweaty forehead for a fever.
“Wow, you’re really warm. You stay home today. I’ll call the school and tell Ms. Jenn you won’t be at rehearsal” Mr. Bowen told his son.
Ricky scrunched his face in annoyance.
“No! Dad, I can’t miss rehearsal. We open in three days” he cried, wincing at the pain talking gave him.
“Then, you have two days to feel better and you have an understudy. I’m sure Ms. Jenn wouldn’t want you coming in this sick, bud” Mr. Bowen said frowning at his son.  
Ricky groaned and threw his head back down into his pillow.
“EJ” he muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, I was just trying to clear my throat,” Ricky said and curled up onto his side, hugging his pillow.
What felt like hours later, Ricky woke from a deep sleep.
“Hey, sorry to wake you. I just wanted to let you know I’m working from home today to take care of you. I know I’m not your Mom and she’s probably way better at this. But I’m trying” Mr. Bowen told his son as he held a bottle of red Gatorade in his hand and two blue capsules. 
Ricky smirked at his Dad’s statement. Since his Mom left, his Dad was trying his best under the circumstances she had given them. He did wish his Mom was here, just like the thousands of other times he wished for her to come walking in the door but never did.
“Thanks, Dad” Ricky croaked and took a swig of Gatorade, chasing it down with the pills.
“Not a problem, bud. Also, I found the only thermometer in our house. It took me a while. I texted your Mom, but she didn’t answer” he said frantically holding up an ear thermometer in the air.
Ricky changed positions in his bed to let his dad put the thermometer in his left ear.
“A little high, but nothing we can’t manage. Get some rest and keep drinking this” he pointed to the Gatorade bottle on the nightstand beside him, “so you don’t get dehydrated” Mr. Bowen explained before leaving his son.
Ricky’s phone buzzed.
1 Notification from Nini
1 Notification from We’re All in This Together GC  
Nini: Where are you?? We have an Environmental Science test today. We were going to study together :/
Ricky: Home sick. Sorry
Nini: Ricky. Are you serious? Opening Night is three days away. Did you even listen to Miss Jenn’s rules?
 What was Nini even saying? Why would he get sick on purpose? He was really starting to like this acting thing.
Ricky: Yeah, I listened to her. Idk how I got sick, but I feel like shit ok?  
Then, the message turned to read. Ricky threw his phone onto his sheets, rested his head onto his pillow, and drifted back to sleep.  
 “Ricky?” a petite voice called to him.
He woke up in a fog feeling groggy trying to make out the person in his room.
“Huh?” he called out to the voice and wiped the sweat off of his forehead.
 Nini stood at the end of his bed.
“Nini? What are you doing here?” he asked, panicked.
“Your texts worried me. I’m going back to rehearsal, I just needed to pick up a few things at home. So, I stopped by” she said smiling softly.
 Ricky coughed into his fist and sniffled.
Nini frowned.
“You sound awful” she mentioned.
“Thanks,” Ricky said sarcastically taking a sip of his warm Gatorade.
“I think E.J. got me sick,” he told her putting the hood of his sweatshirt over his curls.
“What? You’re not serious. E.J. wouldn’t do that” Nini refuted putting a hand on her hip.
Ricky shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know? But I felt fine before he gave me that smoothie. Then, I woke up like this!” he said emphasizing his sickly body.
“It’s flu season. It could just be a conscience. Anyway, I really have to get back to practice. But I’ll be back later” she said standing by his bedside, frowning at his condition.  
“No, I don’t want you catching this. If both of us are sick, there’s no show” the boy expressed in between coughs.
“Ricky. This isn’t my first rodeo! I know how to prepare for flu season during Hell Week” she exclaimed. “Get some rest and I’ll see you later” smiling back at him before exiting the room.
“Bye,” he said and checked his phone filled with notifications from friends and crewmates and Miss Jenn wishing him a speedy recovery.
Maybe: E.J.
Hey Ricky. It’s E.J. Heard you’re not feeling well. Hope you feel better soon and don’t worry about a thing! – Your Understudy
Ricky groaned at the message which just caused him to cough again.
 Then, his door opened again, and his Dad stood in the doorway.
“Hey, bud. How ya doing?” Mr. Bowen asked.
“I’ve been better” Ricky replied snarkily.
“You’re probably due for another dose of medicine” he suggested holding up two new blue tablets and a package of Saltines.
Ricky nodded, silently thanking his father, and took the tablets with the remaining liquid in his Gatorade bottle.
The last time Ricky woke up, his guitar was strumming.
He had to be delirious at this point, he thought to himself. After dreaming he was running around East High trying to make it to the stage but finding a dead-end every time, he was stressed enough.
He rubbed his eyes and saw a silhouette sitting in the corner of his room on his rolling desk chair.  Nini Salazar coming into focus.
“Hey!” she sang softly, putting the acoustic guitar down against the wall.
“Nini. What are you doing here?” Ricky asked, panicked, clutching his comforter tightly.
“It’s okay! I just came to apologize” she said, sitting closer to the boy, now on the edge of his bed.
Ricky shook his head, confused.
“For what?” he asked her.
Nini laughed, “For defending E.J.” she began.
Ricky rose his eyebrow at her. “Today, when I got to rehearsal he said, he was glad the smoothie worked!” she exclaimed, “I couldn’t believe it! I’m so disappointed in him. That’s not the E.J. I know and loved,” she said, slapping the bed as she explained the situation to him.
Ricky winced as the bed shook.  His head throbbing as she explained her conversation with E.J. more.
“I told you,” Ricky snickered hoarsely.
“Don’t strain your voice” Nini said frowning at the state of his voice.
He shrugged at her and yawned.
“So, I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you,” she told him, smiling softly.
Thanks, Ricky mouthed to the girl.
“You’re welcome. Now, you rest up because we have a show to do! And I’m not doing this with E.J.” she said, smirking.
Ricky returned the smirk and got settled back into his bed and closed his eyes.
The light went out in his room and the sound of the door shut.
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hedwigstalons · 4 years
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High Expectations - Ch15
Yup, this beast is still going and still growing.  Life sapped my energy so it has been a lot longer between updates than I would have liked but I’ve been experimenting with writing out of sequence to make use of whatever creativity I can grasp.  The plus side of this is that ch16 is in the editing stages and ch17 is also half written.  But anyway....it’s taken a while but here is ch15 in the saga that has become affectionately termed ‘Bad Jeff’.
@willow-salix has been wonderful at helping be fix the plot holes and pick out the parts where I contradicted myself.  I now have a proper timeline though (funky multicoloured spreadsheet and everything) so I shouldn’t tie myself in knots so much with the boys ages and milestones.
Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen
AO3 chapter link
Chapter Fifteen
The incoming call notification had Virgil scrambling for his phone, fumbling with the handset while trying to swipe a call accept icon that suddenly seemed too small and fiddly to be practical.  It took him three hasty attempts before managing to complete the action correctly, allowing him to finally speak to the brother who had been frustratingly out of contact.  Scott had been in LA for three days and Virgil was now desperate for news but he had promised he wouldn’t interfere lest he call at the wrong moment and inflame matters further.  It had been a nail-biting wait, forcing himself to be patient and trust Scott to call when he could.
“Scott, how is it?”  It took him a moment to register that the face on the screen wasn’t Scott’s despite what the caller ID proclaimed.  “Gordon?”  He was surprised to see a younger brother rather than an older one.
“Don’t sound so pleased to see me.”  There was an air of the old teasing Gordon making a slow return.
“Sorry.   Of course I’m pleased to see you,” and he genuinely was, the face that looked back at him was still too thin and pale for comfort but the hair was clean again and the eyes had lost their haunted glaze, “I just wasn’t expecting it.  Where’s Scott?”
“He’s here too.”  The scene on Virgil’s screen shifted quickly as the handset at the other end was spun round to reveal its rightful owner who gave a little wave.  “He said he was going to call you so I asked if I could go first.”
“Well, how are you?”
“I’m....okay.”  Virgil had made him promise in the past not to lie about how he was feeling, it was one of the reasons he had been pulling away; it didn’t count as lying if you just omitted the truth.  “It’s been a strange few days.”
“I’ll bet.”
“For a start I’ve found out that flyboy over there gets ever so twitchy if anyone else is at the controls of a plane.  You’d best hope you never have to take him as a passenger in that bumble bee of yours if it ever gets off the drawing board.  Or was it more like a turtle, that beast was green wasn’t it?”  The look of fear that crossed Virgil’s face would have been comical if it wasn’t so genuine and Gordon was given the sudden reminder that, as far as Virgil was concerned, he wasn’t meant to know about their father’s vision.  He was quick with his reassurances.  “It’s okay, Dad told me about his rescue plans”
“He still won’t tell Alan though” Scott called out from across the room, “Dad has taken him out to fetch ice cream so we can talk freely for a few minutes.”
“Ice cream?”
“Yeah,  I think he’s just trying to cover some of his own guilt.  He’s still no Dad of the year though.”  Scott's tone was derisive and Virgil could tell that tensions must still be running high.  “He’s going to have to tell him sooner or later, he can’t just spring it on the kid that he is being dragged out of school and shunted across the world when the island move happens.”
“What, you mean like he gave us time to prepare for the move to LA?”  Gordon snorted.  “I don’t know about you guys but me and Alan didn’t exactly get much warning when we left Kansas.”
This surprised the older two who had known all about the plan, the many arguments were etched in their memories.  In this case the problem child had been John.  Scott had been making the transition from university to the Air Force and Virgil had been busy preparing for his studies at Denver but John had been on a path that didn’t align with their father’s business plans.  The fifteen year old, with a coveted place at Harvard nearly in his grasp, had begged to stay so he could finish high school without interruptions; he had worked hard to stay two grades ahead of the curve and an inter-state move could undo it all.  Of course letting John live alone had been out of the question, and Jeff had not been prepared to delay the move, leading to  flares of temper and defiance that none of them had realised the middle child was capable of.  It was only when Grandma stepped in, offering to return from New Mexico to become custodian of the farm and care for John during that final year that their father relented.  With all of the concerns over John and his university dreams it hadn’t occurred to either of them that the youngest two hadn’t been told about the move.  Evidently their father’s policy of ‘need to know’ was long running. 
“Don’t worry Gords, Scott and I will make sure that Alan gets told.  If Dad’s idea happens, and knowing Dad it probably will, Alan won’t just have another move sprung on him.  I promise.”  There was sincere honesty in those deep brown eyes and Gordon gave a subtle nod of thanks.  “So tell me everything that has been happening over the last few days.”
Gordon recounted everything that had happened since Scott’s arrival, prompted by said older brother if he missed anything out.  Virgil winced at the revelations.  Even with the sanitised highlights he could tell that the last few days had been an emotional rollercoaster.  In some cases the revelations were beyond his worst fears and he couldn’t help feeling proud of his little brother who had been living through harder circumstances than any of them had imagined.
“Which brings us to today,” Gordon brought the tale up to the present, “Dad’s decided I need to learn to fly seeing as this island he’s chosen isn’t exactly on the commercial air routes.  Alan’s going to start learning too; Dad wasn’t happy about that idea but Scott reminded him that he started learning at Alan’s age.  You should have seen him up there, Alan is an absolute natural.”  Gordon’s voice glowed with pride at the achievements of his little brother.
“You didn’t do badly yourself” Scott cut in from across the room.
“So why were your knuckles white the whole time?”
“Hey, as you said, I just like being the one in control.  It was no different when Dad was piloting and he’s clocked up more flight hours than the rest of us put together.”
“I can just imagine it” Virgil snorted, “you should’ve seen him supervising John when he was learning to drive.”
Gordon glanced across at Scott who had visibly paled at the memory, before turning his attention back to Virgil. “So yeah, I’ve now got to fit in pilot training and exams around getting back up to strength for WASP selection.”
“And WASP is definitely what you want?  You aren’t just going along with it so you can get away from Dad?  I know you’ll be able to do it, but please don’t enlist unless you’re really sure.”
Gordon wasn’t sure if that was the concerned older brother or the family pacifist speaking; WASP was still military after all and Virgil had made no secrets of his thoughts in that direction.  But equally Virgil knew how stubborn he was and how he would never back down from a challenge and had managed to resolve his difference with Scott over the Air Force so he chalked the questions up to brotherly concern.
“Yeah, I’m sure.  It’s a good life Virg, something I can really make a career out of and the opportunities for officers…”
“Officer?” This definitely surprised the distant sibling.  The widened eyes elicited a slight blush from Gordon.
“Um, yeah, that was Scott’s idea.”  He was still having a little trouble reconciling himself to the notion that he was cut out to lead.  
“Not just my idea” said brother called out from his perch on the bed, “the Marineville lot wanted to transfer you to officer training too.  This time round you’ll just be applying for the officer steam from the beginning.”
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,”  Gordon shot Scott a glare of mock indignation, earning a chuckle from Virgil “it’s a good life.  And yes, this time I’ll be trying out as an officer.  I’ll have to redo the aptitude tests, different benchmarks and all that, but we’ve been looking into it and my scores were already at the right level.  There’s just one additional aptitude test for officers that I never took before.  I’ve tried an online practice test and did ok so I should be alright.  I’m booked in to take it for real in a fortnight.  After that it’s selection at Marineville again and then hopefully I’m in.  It’ll take a few months but by the summer I should have my first posting.  The officer intakes don’t happen as frequently as junior ranks so I’ve got time to train.”
“You seem to have it all mapped out and not a college course in sight.”
“Nope.  Thanks, both of you.  It’s...it’s been a hard few months and I couldn’t see a way out of it all.”
There was a noticeable slump in Gordon’s posture and the light went out of his eyes as the memories of his recent trials flooded back in.  It broke Virgil’s heart to see how on a knife edge his brother still was and he knew he and Scott would need to keep a close eye on their younger sibling for a long while yet.  At least Gordon had a goal to work towards again; they both knew his steely determination and drive to succeed. Once he had set his sights on a challenge nothing would stop him, the Olympics had proved that.
“Any time.  And don’t be a stranger.  If Dad starts getting on your case again or you just need to talk to someone you know where I am.  I’ve been told my couch is pretty comfy too if this new schedule of training and flying lessons allows you any time off.”
“Admit it, you just want me back for my cooking” Gordon smirked.
“Maybe…” Virgil gave his best puppy dog eyes, eliciting a chuckle from both his brothers.
Any further chatter was interrupted by the sound of the apartment door crashing open, announcing the return of Jeff and Alan from the grocery store, followed by Alan’s shouts that if they didn’t get out there quick there would be no chocolate chip left for them.  Both knew better than to treat this as an idle threat so with a hurried goodbye to Virgil they departed to claim their portions.
 xoxoxox
Life soon settled into a new routine.  Jeff still rarely made it back for dinner, they couldn’t expect miracles over night, but he was getting better at being home before Alan went to bed at least.  Gordon suspected that had something to do with the ‘discussion’ Scott had with Jeff the night before he returned to his Air Force base.  The voices that drifted through the firmly shut study door had shown a flare of temper from both sides and Gordon had been grateful Alan was already in bed and so not around to witness the argument.  It was just as well Tracys were good at putting on a front, by the morning of Scott’s departure the tension had been firmly suppressed and Alan had been able to say goodbye to his eldest brother without any hint of bad feeling spoiling the moment. 
Where life before the Olympics had been a mix of school and swimming, so life for Gordon going forwards became a mix of physical training and flight theory with time in the air thrown in at the weekends.   He passed the WASP officer aptitude test easily enough but the next available selection course date wasn’t until after his birthday, leaving him with several months to focus on gaining the appropriate endorsements on his pilot’s licence to allow him to transport himself to and from his father’s intended island base.  
Gordon wasn’t bad at flying but he didn’t possess the raw natural talent of his youngest sibling.  He was competent and thorough with a steady hand but he couldn’t miss the looks of pride Jeff directed towards Alan as yet again the youngest of the family performed a manoeuvre as if he had been at the control yoke since birth.  It didn’t stop at looks either, all too often Gordon found himself on the receiving end of an unfavourable comparison only this time it was against his younger brother as opposed to his older ones and the arena was cockpit rather than classroom performance.  Evidently, for Jeff, old habits were hard to quell.
This time though Gordon wasn’t facing his troubles alone.  Scott would check in with him occasionally until an overseas posting took him out of contact but Virgil was his real lifeline.  Virgil made sure there was never more than a week between calls and often the gaps were smaller if he sensed Gordon slipping back and becoming more distant.  The brother who had taken on the role of counselor seemed to have an uncanny intuition when it came to Gordon’s mood.   
The extended time around his father however was still proving difficult and Gordon found himself eagerly boarding a flight to Denver to catch a much needed break.
As ever, Virgil was there to meet him at the airport.
“Good flight?”
“It was ok.”
“Not tempted to crash the cockpit then?”
Gordon just rolled his eyes and carried on out to the taxi ranks.  To his surprise though Virgil directed the cab to take them to the smaller private airfield out of town rather than the apartment.
“Sorry Gords” he got in response to his querying look.  “You know Dad said you gotta keep up your air time and this was the only runway slot I could get.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know the deal.”  One of the conditions of a weekend with Virgil was that he got some time in the sky to make up for the lesson he was missing with his father.  “Are you alright with me taking up your baby?”
“I trust you” Virgil shrugged.  He wasn’t quite as in love with and overprotective of his plane as Scott was of his, but neither was he going to let on to Gordon that he had had a long and in depth discussion with their father about Gordon’s ability and competence before he had agreed to help with Gordon’s pilot education.
Gordon always thought it odd that Virgil had a plane but didn’t bother to run his own car, although the longer he spent in the air the more he could see the appeal.  Scott of course had always loved flight and it was no surprise to anyone that a big proportion of his allowance went on maintaining a craft that screamed billionaire playboy.  Virgil’s choice was more subtle and practical, if operating your own private plane counted as practical; perfect for hopping around the country from his central base in Denver to visit family on his own schedule.  Despite also being in possession of big enough allowance to afford it John had neither car nor plane having declared that flying commercial was much more sensible for his main coast to coast journey and he wasn’t one for pleasure flying; he was much more interested in what lay outside the atmosphere, far beyond the reach of a mere plane.
At the airfield Virgil maneuvered his little hopper out of the hanger he stored her in and then passed control over to Gordon.
“Go on then, show me what you can do” Virgil prompted after giving Gordon a quick rundown of the specific take off speed and other essential details he would need to operate the plane safely.  He settled back in the co-pilot's chair, exuding a calm confidence despite itching to keep his hands on the controls; Gordon might be his brother and Jeff had given assurances that all would be well but Virgil was still uncomfortably aware that he has supervising an unlicensed novice pilot.  
His fears were soon dispelled once Gordon started going through the motions in textbook fashion including performing his own pre-flight checks despite having watched those same checks being performed just a few minutes earlier.  A short burst down the runway and they were up in the air.  It wasn’t graceful and Gordon lacked the finesse that came with experience but Virgil was pleasantly surprised at the amount of  progress Gordon had made in such a short space of time.
The problem with flying though is that unless you are practicing something like aerobatics then just keeping a plane in the air is actually pretty easy, it’s the take off and landing that takes skill.  They weren’t making a journey so there was no real navigation to do beyond avoiding the restricted airspace and corridors used by the commercial flights and the weather was clear so flying by instruments was unnecessary.  All in all it was a thoroughly untaxing lesson, allowing them to relax and enjoy the time together.
“So how’s your project going?” Gordon asked as he banked to avoid flying directly over a village.
“It’s okay.  I’m on track to be done by the summer.”
“What will you do after that?  Move back to LA or stay out here?”
“Neither, hopefully.”  Gordon gave his brother a questioning glance of surprise.  “Got to get space rated for Dad’s project.  Me and John’ll be heading out to Tracy College for that, just waiting for confirmation of a course place.”
“Space rated?”  He had realised John would need to undergo astronaut training in preparation for life on a space station but most of the project specifics were still a mystery to him.
“Yeah.  Someone’s got to be able to play taxi service for John and I might need to take a rotation on call monitoring; he can’t live off planet forever.”
“Sounds like plans are really coming together for it.  Does this mean Scott will need to get space rated at Tracy College too?”
“Scott…”  There was a heavy pause and Gordon took his eye off the sky to regard his brother.  Virgil’s brow had furrowed into a frown and when he spoke again there was a heaviness that told of hidden arguments.  “Scott isn’t joining, he’s sticking to the Air Force.”
This surprised Gordon.  In the few conversations he had had with his father about the project, usually confined to a cockpit where Alan couldn’t overhear, Scott was talked about like Virgil was, as a committed member of the team. His role as first responder and pilot of the envisioned rocket plane had been presented in terms of undisputed fact.  No wonder the topic made Virgil look stormy, he was a peacemaker and if Scott wasn’t fitting in with their father’s vision Gordon could imagine that the arguments had been many and explosive.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.  Oh.”
“So what’s going to happen there?  Surely you can’t manage with just the three of you?”
“I don’t know.  I’d like to think there is a contingency plan but Dad seems so sure Scott’s going to change his mind and do it.  They’re both as stubborn as mules though and neither wants to give up their dream.  It’s a good project, the tech looks amazing and we could really save lives.  I can see Scott’s point though, he’s made a life for himself away from Dad and, well, you know yourself what Dad can be like for giving orders.”
Gordon knew all too well what it felt like to be on the receiving end of those orders, particularly when they were at odds with your own plans.  At least Scott had the advantage of physical distance as a buffer to the disapproval and if push came to shove, if Jeff cut Scott off as punishment, the Air Force pay was enough to live on even if it meant Scott had to change his lifestyle to suit the lower budget.
Gordon made the final approach back towards the airfield, diverting the full attention of both brothers to monitoring the landing.  As with the take off it wasn’t polished and it wasn’t pretty but it was safe and Virgil found himself once again admiring just how far his brother had come in such a short space of time.  He wondered if, given time, Gordon would join the team.  Jeff hadn’t made any mention of Gordon taking on a role in the rescue organisation, even if he was now allowed to know of its existence, but there was no denying that having an extra pilot on books could only be a good thing.  Maybe one day he and Gordon would fly together, the more time he spent with his brother the more he enjoyed the company although, Virgil reflected, if they were to fly as a team he would be happier if Gordon took the co-pilot’s position.
With the plane back on the ground and safely returned to her berth in the hangers Virgil pushed all thoughts of Gordon joining the rescue business out of his mind; unless their father issued the instruction there was no point even considering the option.  And anyway, Gordon was heading off to the military like Scott had so who knew if he would even want to join the project.  Better to just let their father know that the required flying lesson had gone without a hitch then settle back to enjoy the weekend. 
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rocksandrobots · 4 years
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Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 6 - The Beach
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Saturday had come and Varian and the rest of his new friends were all crowded in Wasabi's car. Wasabi had precisely enough room to fit six people, though perhaps a bit uncomfortably. He and Varian rode in the front seat, with Varian carrying Ruddiger in his carrying cage, while Hiro, Gogo, Honey Lemon, and Fred were squished together in the back seat. The robot, Baymax, was folded up inside his battery pack and tucked away in the trunk to make room. 
Apparently today was a holiday and they were all heading to the beach. Well in truth the actual holiday was on Monday, but Americans spent the whole weekend in celebration. Said holiday was Memorial Day and was meant to honor warriors who fell in battle. However, despite this somber origin, most considered the weekend to be the official start of summer and would mark the occasion with picnics, parties, and public swimming. 
For Varian and his friends though, this was the end of spring break. Starting on Tuesday, the university they now all attended would open back up and the summer semester would begin. The thought of which sent Varian's stomach churning with butterflies. He'd never been to school before and didn't know what to expect. He was filled with anxious excitement and to calm his nerves he looked out the car window to admire the scenery.
He'd been in this strange new world for a week now but he'd had little chance to admire it. For the past five days he'd been busy studying for his entrance exams for college. Passing the 'graduation' test in particular was important for gaining admittance into the school and Varian had to do some serious cramming to prepare for it. Squeezing twelve years worth of educational knowledge into his brain in less than a week.  
Fortunately Varian was very good at memorizing facts and all his new friends were on hand to help him. On Monday, Hiro had helped him gather up the study materials he'd needed and told him what to expect. Wasabi gave him practice tests throughout the week and helped him pinpoint the areas he was weakest in. He was pretty good with math and grasped most of the science quickly, with Wasabi being on hand to fill in the gaps, but he needed help in other less familiar subjects. 
Gogo had swung by on Tuesday and spent the whole day giving Varian a crash course in Social Studies, which was a combination of history, geography, and civics. 
Varian took a special interest in America's founding and it's chosen form of government, which was unlike anything he had heard of before. They had no king nor royalty of any kind. In fact the country was founded by people who committed treason and fought a war to overthrow their ruler, and who then put into place a democracy made up of elected representatives instead. It most closely resembled the government of ancient Rome, before Julius Caesar had taken over, but was expanded upon to encompass a vast kingdom, larger than even most empires. 
Varian had already thought San Fansokyo was an impressively large city, but was completely flabbergasted to know that not only was it not the largest city in the country, it wasn't even the biggest within its own providence; and there were fifty of these states that stretched across the continent from coast to coast with similarly massive metropolises in each. 
It was mind boggling and it took him sometime to wrap his brain around the concept. And that was just the tip of the iceberg, he also had to catch up with some four hundred odd years worth of world events on top of that. But Gogo was a patient teacher and she carefully broke down everything into manageable chunks, giving him timelines, charts, and maps for him to refer back to. By the end of the day he had perhaps learned more in those eight hours spent with her than he had in his whole sixteen years. 
On Wednesday, Fred had showed up to help Varian practice for the writing portion of the tests. He would have to complete two essays on any given subject for each of the two exams. Fred himself had actually completed one of the same tests, the S.A.T, just a few months ago and knew what the graders were looking for when it came to such essays. 
Mainly, they just wanted to know if Varian could follow the basic guidelines of writing; paragraphs and sentence structure, grammar, spelling, and his overall ability to form an argument on paper. All things Varian felt pretty comfortable with, but it was nevertheless a good refresher of those basics. Essay writing and thesis statements were apparently expected of any student attending higher education and he would have to write many during the course of his studies. 
Thursday, Honey Lemon stopped by to help Varian with Language Arts. Both tests would cover reading comprehension and even more grammar. Once again Varian was pretty comfortable with those two subjects, especially given the writing practice from the day before, and so they finished pretty quickly. Even with Honey Lemon adding in extra information about various important books and plays that had been written in the past four centuries, just in case any of them made it into the reading part of the exam. Though Shakespeare was still deemed the most influential even in this modern age. A fact which disappointed Varian; he personally thought Marlowe to be superior to the bard. 
"You don't even like Romeo and Juliet?" Honey Lemon asked aghast, "But it's sooo romantic." 
"But it's sooo stupid," Varian mockingly admonished with a laugh. Which in turn made Honey Lemon give him a not-so-serious pout. 
"Look, what was stopping them from just leaving together in the first place?" Varian explained his point. 
Honey Lemon opened her mouth to retort back but just as soon closed it again; she had never considered that question before. She screwed up her mouth in thought as she searched for a better answer. 
"Weeelll, sometimes it's hard to leave the only home you've ever known. Isn't that why you want to get back to your world?" She asked him.
Varian just stared at her for a moment, thinking of an answer to give that didn't allow him to explain his past in detail. Finally he said, "I wanna get back because my dad is there. I couldn’t care less about Corona itself." 
"You don't care at all?"
"It's just a bunch of buildings." He mumbled with a shrug, then he added, more assuredly, "What matters is the people in your life." 
"I guess," She replied, "all I know is that I had a hard enough time just leaving Sacramento. Even though it's only an hour and a half away and I can still see my family whenever. I can't imagine what it's like to be lost in a whole other world." 
Varian ignored her attempts to sympathize, not because he didn't appreciate the effort, but because he was ready to move on from the conversation. Instead he shut his eyes tightly and tilted his head back, trying to recall some of the new information he had recently learned. "Sacramento; that's the capital of California, right?" 
"Yeah. But don't worry, no one actually memorizes all fifty states and their capitals. I only know like twenty or so." She admitted.
"Oh, good." Varian breathed in relief. Soon both he and Honey Lemon were just giggling, happy to relieve the tension in the room.
"Oooh, you know what? I brought my make-up bag with me!" Honey Lemon suddenly exclaimed, and just like that all previous talk about literature and writing gave away to other subjects, mostly chemistry.
Honey Lemon made her own cosmetics. It was a passion of hers to find new, safe, and 'biodegradable' chemical compounds to replace some of the more toxic stuff on the market. 
"And absolutely no animal testing." She added in all seriousness. 
She even sold her wares over the internet, shipping them to customers as they ordered them, as a means of making money on the side. 
She poured out the contents of a rather large tote bag onto the floor and walked Varian through each item, what it was for, and how she had made it. Varian listened intently and even tried some of the stuff himself. 
He found he didn’t care much for lipstick nor cakey foundation, the texture was off putting to him. He also didn’t like anything with a heavy perfume. However, he did like the eyeliner and the black fingernail polish he had previously bought. He was still fascinated by the concept of synthesized polymers. 
They were both sitting on the floor, makeup strewn everywhere, laughing over nothing in particular, when Wasabi came home from his part-time job. Honey Lemon was in the middle of applying mascara to Varian’s eyes and he was trying his best not to blink but failing at it, which only sent both of them into more fits of giggles. Meanwhile, unnoticed by them both, Ruddgier had gotten into the powered blush and was making a mess in another corner of the room.
“I thought you two were studying.” Wasabi said with a hint of annoyance to his voice. He was tired from work and none too happy to find makeup scattered about his dorm room. 
“Sorry,” Honey Lemon tried to say through her laughter, “but we finished early and I’d promise to teach Varian how to paint his nails.” Varian held up his hand to show Wasabi his newly painted nails as a way of response. 
“That’s nice.” Wasabi replied back in a sarcastic tone. “Did you also teach the raccoon how to put on foundation?” 
That’s when they both finally noticed Ruddiger. Varian got onto his pet and went to clean up the mess, effectively ending the study/make-up session. 
The next day, Wasabi gave him two final practice tests and then it was time for him to take the real thing. He met Professor Granville at the school and, alongside a few other hopeful students, took the two tests. 
The first test, the S.A.T., went smoothly, but he wouldn’t know his actual scores until his answer sheet and essay were sent off to be graded. The graduation test however was taken over the computer and it took several hours to complete with a few breaks between parts. He felt he could have finished sooner had he had the chance to take the test using a pencil and paper instead, as he found the mouse and keyboard awkward. But the positive thing about using the new technology was that he got his scores back sooner. He managed to pass all the parts, even with him just barely scraping by on the Social Studies section. His official certification would come in the mail, the professor told him, but for all intents and purposes he now had a high school diploma. 
Which was apparently a big deal in this world. Earning a diploma was considered to be something of a rite of passage. Obtaining one meant you were ready to start entering the adult world and with it you could gain full time employment or seek higher education, like college. According to his friends, he should’ve been extra proud of this accomplishment since gaining a high school diploma at his age, while not unheard of, was unusual, and he had done it in less than a week when most took years to achieve it. 
To signify just how important this was, all his new friends threw him a party at the Lucky Cat. Even Aunt Cass had pitched in and made him a special dinner. It was something called ‘sushi’ and she typically prepared it for celebrations like this one; having cooked similar dinners for both Tadashi and Hiro when they had graduated high school as well.       
Varian was appreciative of her efforts, though he didn’t quite know what to make of the food itself. The ‘sushi’ consisted mostly of rice topped with raw fish wrapped in seaweed. The taste wasn’t bad but the texture of the uncooked seafood was weird to Varian. Fortunately, not everything was raw. There were different kinds to be had and Varian was able to pick out some that he did enjoy; ones stuffed with crab, egg, or just veggies. He especially liked the ‘dessert sushi’ made with tropical fruit.
He’d just finished recalling last night, when Wasabi loudly proclaimed, “We're here!” 
There were whoops and joyous yells in response from the various passengers and Varian looked out the front windshield to see the familiar blue streak that was the ocean just up ahead. Wasabi parked the car in the designated parking lot and then they all piled out of said vehicle and made their way down to the beachfront. 
The sandy beach was tucked in between two rocky cliffs and you had to walk down a wooden stairway to get to it. As he made his way down the stairwell, Varian could look out and see the expanse of dark blue ocean and lighter blue sky go on forever. It didn't look much different from Corona's coast. What did look different were the inhabitants. Corona's coastline was usually deserted save for the ports and the occasional fishing boat off in the distance, but here the beach was a mass of half naked bodies and swarms of vacationers enjoying the summer sun. Spread out along the sandy tolls were towels, blankets, folding chairs, and umbrellas of all sizes with scantily clad people lounging upon or underneath. 
Varian tried to remember Gogo's words from a week ago, about how this was deemed normal and not to bring himself to attention by starring. But everywhere Varian looked he was met with the sight of a lovely lady's long legs or a handsome lad's toned chest. Not looking was very much like asking a small child in a pastry shop to hold their nose and ignore the sweet smells of pies and cakes surrounding them. Fortunately, he was able to keep his composure long enough for them to reach the shore and find a spot to set up camp for the day; managing not to hold his gaze for too long on any one person or thing. 
They had brought a variety of towels and folding chairs of their own, along with a large parasol and ice chest full of food and drink for the day. Varian and Wasabi had spent that morning making sandwiches for everyone; tuna fish salad, sliced cucumbers with butter, jam mixed with a spread made from ground nuts, and some sort of mystery meat called 'baloney' paired with cheese. Varian couldn't figure out if said baloney was made from ham or chicken, as it didn't really taste like either, though it also didn't taste bad per-say. They also stored small bags of crispy fried potatoes, individually wrapped miniature cakes, and bottles of some sort of fizzy drink called 'soda' in the chest as well. Varian found the carbonated sugary drink to be odd but surprisingly tasty. 
While everyone was setting up Hiro unpacked Baymax from his portable charger, the robot inflated to full size again before stepping out, and Varian released Ruddiger from his carrier. The raccoon was grateful to be let out of the small cage at last and promptly snuggled up on one of the folding chairs under the sun to catnap. Varian didn't think the leash necessary as there really wasn't any place for his pet to run off to. 
Once done with setting up, the gang then proceeded to unpack the various toys and games they had brought along as well. There was a game you played with a net, like tennis, only you used your hands to pass a 'volleyball' over said net instead of a racket and you didn't want the larger ball to touch the ground at any point. They also brought a flat discus called a 'frisbee' which you threw from person to person. Gogo had with her a flat wooden board used to ride the waves that broke along the shore. Which she let Varian and her other friends try out for themselves. 
Varian however was not very good at any of these new sports. While he was fairly athletic, capable of running, climbing, and whatnot, he had never been the best at coordination. More often than not he'd simply trip and fall in his efforts to keep up with the ball or maintain his balance on the surfboard. 
Instead Varian found himself wandering off occasionally to try and strike up conversations with new people. He'd hadn't had a lot of social interaction while growing up, especially with others his age, and he wanted some practice before he started school in a few days. Hopefully to ease the awkwardness of being dumped in a world that he knew next to nothing about. 
However every time he'd smile at a pretty girl or make eye contact with a cute boy his age, his efforts to make small talk were sabotaged by some mishap or other. Either his own clumsiness would get in the way or he'd put his foot in mouth, as the saying goes. One particularly unfortunate incident involved him getting beaned in the back of the head from a misthrown volleyball while trying to chat up a couple of vacationing teens. Fortunately, his embarrassing failures at flirting would be followed by one of his new friends trying to engage him with some other activity so he was never left alone with his awkwardness for long. 
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Swimming, sand castle building, more games; like 'chicken', where you tried to push one person off another person's shoulders into the water, or 'Marco Polo' where one person had to find the others with their eyes closed, using the ancient explorer's name as a call and response, digging for seashells, and other similar actives were to be had to pass the time away. 
Finally, the sun started to hang low in the sky and they all headed back to the car. They were wet, tired and covered in sand. They tried to knock the irritating substance off their shoes and things before all squeezing back into the ill fitting vehicle in order to head back home. They all sat on towels so as not to get the seats wet and their bathing suits and cover up clothes all clung to them dripping with sea water. 
Varian sat again in the front seat, only this time Honey Lemon had asked to hold Ruddiger on the ride back. She, Gogo, Fred, and Hiro were all fast asleep in the backseat with Baymax once again tucked away in his battery case. Wasabi had the radio on in order to keep himself awake as he drove (and to drown out Honey Lemon's snoring if he was being honest). The music that filtered out of the speakers was called 'classical' music, which just meant it was mostly orchestral music from ages past. To Varian it sounded very modern and sophisticated to his ears, like chamber music played for royal courts, not the more rustic folk music he grew up on. 
Right now a gentle suite with piano and strings was playing and it along with the steady motion of the car moving was beginning to lull Varian to sleep as well. He looked out again at the houses and scenery that passed by and thought of the day's events and the fun he had had as his eyes grew heavy. This world was so much more inviting and nicer than his own, it was a shame he'd have to leave it soon, but his Dad needed him and that was that. And with that final resolve Varian drifted off to dreamland. 
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ladybub · 5 years
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Thanks for the 6,000 followers!!
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As promised, I said I’d write a fic for the Overboard AU. 
Here’s the first chapter!
Overboard (2424 words) by Ladybub Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Chloé Bourgeois, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Nathalie Sancoeur
Additional Tags: Overboard AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, Fake Marriage, I have literally got nothing planned, i am winging this, most likely smut
Summary:
Overboard AU. Marinette Dupain-Cheng hasn’t had the best of luck in her life, not only has her husband Luka passed away tragically three years ago, she’s one failed test away from losing her scholarship, and also already lost her job at the cafe. With three children to take care of, she doesn’t have the time to dawdle and needs to find another job, or a miracle, stat! Meanwhile, on his own personal yacht, Adrien Agreste - the heir to the Gabriel fashion line - hasn’t a care in the world and women on his arms at all times. He’s living the life of a Bachelor with no problems whatsoever, other than the hangovers he gets the morning after. However both their luck changes after a chance meeting, and when the son of the rich designer has an accident which causes him to lose his memory…
Marinette was a bit down on her luck lately.
She had just lost her job at the café just across the road from her University. It was perfect and convenient but unfortunately it seems she dropped one too many cups of coffee, and the boss couldn't ignore it any more. She couldn't really hold it against them; they didn't end on bad terms, and whilst her boss was very apologetic about letting her go, they had no other choice.
Every now and again she found some commission work by making dresses, and helping out the bakery, but those jobs were so far and few in-between. She also couldn't impose on them by moving out of her apartment and back home, not with Hugo, Emma and Louis - her parent's home wasn't big enough for all of them. No, she'd have to simply find another job. Fast.
Another job that could work around her University schedule and give her time to drop off/pick up the kids from school.
God, this was going to be impossible.
Suddenly, Marinette was dragged out of her thoughts when her phone started ringing. She quickly fished it off the counter and balanced it on her ear, "Hey maman." Oh, please have good news...She thought. "What's up?"
"Hi honey," Her mother's voice came out, "We just got in a last minute catering order, and was wondering if you were free on tomorrow night to help out as one of our servers, and also to bring back the equipment the morning after. Of course, we'd be more than happy to have the kids over for the night."
Marinette felt a small relief, she'd take any little bit she could take. "Yes, that'd be great maman, thank you. You have no idea how much I needed it," She took a deep breath, "I might have... lost the job at the café."
"Oh, Marinette..." Sabine murmured sympathetically, "How are you going for rent? You know if you need to borrow any money-"
"No, no, no! It's fine! I have some money saved that will get us through the month and I'm sure I'll find a new job in no time!" Marinette lied, she didn't actually have any money saved up, but she couldn't let her mother know; she'd already borrowed hundreds off her parents already, she didn't want to ask for a cent more. She plastered a too-big grin on her face - and since her mother couldn't see her, it was mostly to convince herself.
Sabine sighed on the other side of the line, "Alright, but you let your father and I know if you need anything, and we'll be sure to call you when catering events come up."
"Thank you, maman."
"You're welcome anytime, of course, dear. Tell the kids goodnight for me."
"Will do, goodnight!"
"Goodnight, sweetie."
Marinette shuffled the phone down from her shoulder and onto the counter, continuing on the soup she was cooking. She dipped a spoon in and tasted, happy with the flavours. "Hugo, Emma, Louis! Dinner is ready!" She quickly prepped the table, moving around the mess that sat on top so that there was room for all four of the bowls.
The patter of children running into the dining room was broken only by the collective moans they made when they saw what was put onto the table. "Dumpling soup again?" The eldest boy, Hugo, cried out. "But we've had it for the last two nights!"
"And now, we'll have it again just one more night." Marinette said, and began serving the soup into the bowls. "I promise tomorrow we'll have something else but for now, Maman needs to study extra hard tonight since tomorrow she'll be serving for your Grandma and Grandpa, and you know what that means..." She reached over the kids to grab some of the textbooks that lay in the pile of other things she pushed aside on the table.
"Sleepover at Nan and Pop's!" Louis shouted excitedly, accidentally flinging a dumpling on the floor. Marinette quickly scooped it up and gave him one of the dumplings from her dinner, all without taking her eyes off her textbooks.
"Mhmmm, that's right." Marinette hummed, taking a sip of her soup and highlighting some areas that she felt she'd need to remember. She looked up and booped Emma on the nose, and then pointedly looked at all of them, "Now, promise you'll behave or I'll let Grandma know that you'd love dumpling soup again tomorrow."
"We promise!" They all shouted in unison, their mouths filled with food.
The morning after, on a bed of thousand thread sheets and down pillows, a blonde groaned and scratched his head, further mussing up the glistening hair but somehow, not ruining it at all. It was way too early, but slowly as the blinds on his windows automatically rolled up, it wasn't long before the sun was shining right in his face. He grumbled as he lifted his head, squinting as he glowered outside to the stunning skyline along the Seine river. What happened last night? Last he remembered was having a line of shots out on the back of his new yacht, a surprisingly generous birthday present from his father.
"Nathalie!" The blonde's husky voice called out, before clearing his throat and following with a much clearer and louder; "Nathalie! Please, I'm dying here."
Heels clicked on the polished wooden floor before stopping at the entranceway to the young man's room. "Yes, Adrien, I have already brought you some aspirin and water, it's right next to your bed." She sighed and looked away as Adrien shifted, the sheets no longer hiding his tan and muscular frame, as he reached for the glass.
"Thank you, Nathalie, but right now what I really need," he dropped the pill in the glass, waiting as it began to fizz before taking a large gulp, "is a Vodka Sunrise right now. Oh wait, no, make that two, could you get them for me?" He gave her a droopy toast with the glass with a smug smile on his face.
Nathalie took a deep breath, bringing out her phone and tapping on it a few times, "Today, your father wants you to get dressed by eleven, he has a few investors coming in to discuss some important last minute details for the Spring Gala in April, and you are to to join them for lunch which is scheduled at twelve."
Two more sets of heels came in behind Nathalie, showing two beautiful girls in their bikinis, only a sheer shawl covering their shoulders. They completely ignored Nathalie as they walked up to Adrien's bed.
"Adrikiiiins!" The blonde cooed at him, and wrapping her long tanned arms around his neck, "Come and join us in the jacuzzi, Felix found a lovely bottle of chardonnay that may or may not have come from his father's personal collection." She tugged on his arms as the brunette next to her was rubbing his shoulders sensually.
"On second thought, Nathalie, no need to bring me anything, I've found a couple tall drinks all on my own..." He purred, letting the girls pull him up from his bed. He picked up a pair of swim trunks with a golden Gabriel logo emblazoned right across the ass. "Come on, Chloe, Lila, we should go now before Nathalie can get the Gorilla to drag me to a boring meeting with my father. After all," he slipped on the trunks with feline gracefulness, "I think we'd have a lot more fun emptying that jacuzzi and filling it with jelly, what do you think?"
Nathalie furrowed her brow, "Adrien, your father won't be happy if you skip another meeting, he has high expecta-"
Adrien's face turned sour, "I know, he always has 'high expectations' of me as his son, just like I had 'high expectations' of him as a father. Maybe when my expectations are met, then we can negotiate. In the meantime..." He wrapped his arms around Chloe and Lila, who took no time in draping themselves on him. "Tell him that I'm indisposed, if you have to, but either way," He squeezed the girls and gave Nathalie a cheeky smile, "I've got important things to do."
"Adrien..." Nathalie reached out for Adrien but he brushed her off and kept walking.
"I told you, I have important things to do."
As the three waltzed past Nathalie, she couldn't help but feel for Adrien. She would have never predicted the sweet boy she knew years ago would turn out like this. It seems that as the years went on, the distance between Adrien and Gabriel only grew further and further. When Adrien couldn't win his father's love with being the perfect son - graduating top of his class in lycée, being the star of the most prestigious fencing academy, along with becoming the face of the Gabriel fashion - he turned into getting his father's attention another way. He started partying more and shirking his duties with the company, spending his father's money on expensive and materialistic things that he used to have no interest in before.
But she knew there was nothing she could do to help, not unless Gabriel pulled his head out of his work to see that he's losing the only family he has left.
So she quickly wrote up a text to Gabriel, letting him know the situation, before leaving the Agreste estate.
"Hey girl!"
Marinette looked up from her coffee, to see her best friend waving at her from down the sidewalk, "Hey, Alya!" They both reached out, hugging each other tightly, and then kissed each other's cheeks, "Thank you for coming out with me, on such late notice, to go resume dropping of all things!"
Alya smacked her arm lately, "I'll take what I can get, outside of work, it's impossible to get your nose out of those book and fabrics." They looped their arms together as they made their way towards the first café, restaurant or shop Marinette wanted to stop at. "How's University treating you this semester? I know a big test and assignment is coming up soon, are you getting enough time to study?"
Marinette sighed, the sound exhausted, "The only good thing coming from losing my job has been the extra time to practice and work on my final project piece. But I can't afford that extra time, I need to get a new job or we'll get evicted - Emma had the flu last week which meant I already took time off to take care of her, I don't have the rent for this month, and I can't ask my parents; they've already leant me so much and I can't take any more from them." She straightened her back, "If all else fails, I'll just," her voice cracked a little, "I'll quit the course, find any job I can get regardless of what it is and just, pick University back up when I can afford the time off."
Alya's heart panged when she saw the tears beginning to spring into her friend's eyes, "No, honey, if you get evicted you and the kids can move in with me and Nino for a little while, at least until you can get another job and afford your own place again." When she saw Marinette open her mouth to protest, she squeezed her arm and gave her a warning look, then went on, "You'll get through this, trust me. You're Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you'll pass your exams with flying colours and you'll be amazing."
Marinette smiled at Alya, "What did I do to deserve you?"
Alya gave her a wicked grin, "I didn't say it'd be free, I want a chocolate éclair every Monday, freshly made from your parent's bakery - I'll accept no other kind!"
"I'm sure I can manage that." They both giggled together, Marinette feeling warm with gratitude.
After the laughs subsided, Alya looked at Marinette with a glint to her eye, "So anyway, you would never guess who Nino ran into the other day." Alya began, "Nathaniel! You know, from Collège?"
"Yeah, I remember..." Marinette had a sneaking suspicion on where this was leading.
"They ended up having a couple drinks that night and caught up a little, Nino said that he was staying in Paris for the forseeable future, and also that apparently Nath asked about you!" Alya grinned excitedly, nudging Marinette a few times in the side.
"Alya! Not this again."
Alya simply ignored her, "We both know he had the cutest crush on you in school before he moved away, and Nino said he absolutely kicked puberty in the face like, whoa!" She whistled, "Nino originally was thinking he'd make a good third, but I told him that we should let you two have a date or two first before passing out any invitations." She gave a wink, "but just think, if he's just as sweet as he was in High School, he'd be a real catch."
Marinette flushed a little at the idea, she couldn't lie that she felt lonely. But she shook those feelings away. "You know I don't have time right now for dating," Marinette pointed out, and went on. "Besides, I doubt anyone would want to. No one wants a widow with three kids." She felt her entire body sink, she accepted her reality a long time ago. Luka, her late husband, was her entire world. She just felt like she would never be able to love someone like she loved him, and she didn't want to be introducing man after man into her kids lives, right now they needed stability.
"Shut up, don't you dare talk about my friend that way." Alya's voice was firm, but full of love, "I told you already, you're an amazing, talented, smart, capable woman and a beautiful, loving mother. Any guy would be lucky to be in your good graces." She added with a soft voice, "Luka would want you to be happy, and to be able to move on and find love again."
Marinette nodded, a weak smile on her lips, "How do you just," She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "know exactly what it is I need to hear all the time?"
"Because I love you." Alya stated, stopping to give her friend a hug. She held onto Marinette's shoulders, "Now. Less dallying, more resume dropping." She pointed to a quaint cafe just on the corner of the road, "Let's get you a new job before the day is over, hm?"
"If only I was that lucky." Marinette laughed.
Notes:
Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter for my Overboard AU! I hope that it's not too boring, please please please let me know what you think? I haven't written a fic since I was 14 and that was a really cringey self-insert for Fruits Basket. (Don't ask, trust me.)
I have no clue how many chapters this is going to be, it could be 5, it could be 20, it'll probably be like, 3. I guess it depends on how much you guys like it, since I feel so nervous about posting.
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thelifeoftuan · 5 years
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Journalism Hell
There’s a little known fact about me. Or a fact that is usually forgotten. Either way. In college, apart from my Biochemistry major and pursuit of a career in medicine, I was also a Journalism major.
We’ll backtrack a little bit. Spring 2010 of my sophomore year of college, following a meeting with my advisor within the College of Arts and Sciences for my Biochemistry degree towards the end of that semester, I sort of spun out of control into this existential crisis. Hahaha! Why, you might ask? Well, it was at that meeting that my advisor was reviewing all of my credits and told me that I was on track to graduate the following Spring. And I was like, “What?” He looked over all of my requirements and said that with some good planning, I am set to graduate the following year. And in my head, I, for some reason, started to panic. Hahaha! I was like, “Um, excuse me dude, I’m only a sophomore. I haven’t even taken the MCAT yet, let alone apply for medical school. I’m not ready to graduate.” I remember asking him what my options were, and he was like, either book it and take the MCAT two months ago and apply to medical school yesterday then saunter on over to the commencement department and get ready to apply for graduation... or, do something else. I went home and stewed. ...like stewed to the point where the stew burned. And I was like, “what the shit! I didn’t plan for this!” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, why am I complaining, right? The prospect of graduating a year early from college isn’t something to be butt-hurt about. But at that time, I was definitely not ready, mentally or emotionally. Not to mention I was nowhere near ready to really plunge into the horrid process of applying for medical school. That would have required me to get together letters of recommendation, transcripts, take the MCAT (and do somewhat well), apply for our pre-medicine committee interview (a stupid and unnecessary process, honestly, in retrospect), decide where I wanted to try to go to medical school and get those applications together... within a matter of weeks, because if memory serves me right, the application cycles started in the summer. So after I (rather unnecessarily, I will admit) agonized about this, I was like, “nah bro, we’re staying the full four years.” And it was at that time that I then embarked on my existential crisis. What the crap was I gonna do that will effectively prolong my stay in college to the appropriate four years? And it took a couple of days. I didn’t want to squander my time (or money, to be honest) doing something that wasn’t worthwhile. But I also didn’t want to over-tax myself. At first, I was like, well? I’ve always seen myself as a writer, maybe I should delve down that route. I initially thought about picking up an English major or minor. I spent hours and hours pouring over the coursework and projecting my class schedules and how that would pan out or if it would even work. And I discovered that it would if I picked up an English minor. And this department was within the College of Arts and Sciences, and so I wouldn’t have to really branch out too far from “home base.” But then I delved further into the required classes and read up on the syllabi (syllabuses? ...silly buses?) and looked up the instructors on the university online database, and review after review for course after course... they were all mostly bad with, at best, a B- average for grades, and I was like, “...I actually don’t think this is for me.” Being a literature buff was not my thing, and I think the English minor/major at my university trains students for that... which, in my opinion, was not worth my time or energy. I barely knew how to read, let alone critically analyze literature. I definitely was not going to risk something that would take shots at my already teetering GPA if I could help it, especially if it was something additional I was taking on. At that point, I would’ve rather graduated a year early and figure it out from there. So I scrapped that idea. And then it was back to the drawing board. Another several days of searching and seeking counsel... and then one day, a random thought came into my head. There was this nice building at the southern corner of the campus that was one of the newer colleges of our university, the College of Journalism. I would always walk by this building but never ventured in. One nice summer day that Spring semester of 2010, I did. And immediately, I felt sort of the same “at home” vibe I had felt all those years ago when I decided I wanted to become a pediatrician. Another little known fact. I actually started writing (for lack of a better term, honestly) before I even decided medicine was my calling. I remember in kindergarten, I had started writing and I remember my teacher reading some of my stories to my classmates. It wasn’t talent. It was a whim. Some sort of strange whim that has carried me forward throughout the years, just like how my aspiration for a career in medicine did. Within the College of Journalism was a major known as Professional Writing. I went home immediately after that day and did all the research I could on this. There was, unfortunately, no minor offered for any of the journalism majors. But the more I read about the Professional Writing track, the more and more I was sold. This major would train me and give me the skills I needed to become a more proficient writer and actually give me an avenue and motivation to continue writing as a potential career. None of that literary crap that made me despise high school English class, but stories that I would actually enjoy writing. I meticulously planned out my current coursework remaining for my Biochemistry major and overlay the required coursework for a Journalism-Professional Writing major... and it was like over-packing for a trip (another one of my wondrous qualities), borderline impractical and insane, but doable if done correctly. I asked myself, “how invested are you in this, Tuan?” I remember taking an afternoon to think about this, seeking opinions from some of my friends. And then, by the end of the day, I decided to go for it. I scheduled a meeting with an advisor at the college who, honestly and I think appropriately, questioned my sanity. I concretely remember him, one, looking at me with his eyebrows raised when I told him my background and experience (or lack thereof), and two, asking me repeatedly, “Are you sure about this?” But when I expressed my extreme interest and drive, he complied and laid out the requirements for me. I would have to take an entrance competency exam (basically a reading and writing exam). Thank goodness the foreign language requirements were the same among colleges, because I was not about to go down that route again (Spanish 3 is a story for another time...). That summer of 2010 would end up being my busiest summer. Because I picked this new major, I would have to get the required prerequisites out of the way before I could even think about starting any Journalism classes. So this required me to take two journalism classes over the summer. And I had also enrolled in a Biochemistry course that summer. So, three classes during that fateful summer of 2010. Hahaha! Not my smartest decision. But it felt like this new endeavor into the world of Journalism breathed new meaning in my life, and I felt rejuvenated and excited. Well, that feeling did not last too long. Hahaha! Mind you, yes, the entire way until I graduated college, I loved my Journalism major and classes, and it was definitely a reprieve away from my science classes and the stress of applying for medical school. But the very first class I had to take, and I will always remember the course ID to this day, was JMC 2033: Writing for Mass Media (JMC stood for Journalism and Mass Communication and was the ID used for all Journalism classes at my university). This was the introductory “weed-out” class for Journalism majors... which shocked me when my teacher, an impassioned writer and, in my opinion, rather poorly directed masters student who took pride in making this class the hardest it could ever possibly be, said to us on our first day, “If you are taking this class in the summer thinking that it was going to be easier, think again.” In my head, I was like, “oh shit.” No biochemistry professor of mine ever said that in any of my classes on the first day, and here I am, at a place I thought was the greener side of things, and there’s this crazy 20-something-year-old lady with an ego the size of the screen projected at the front of the classroom ready to skewer each and every one of us for the next 8 weeks. ...and skewer us she did. She definitely found some sick joy torturing us students in that class that summer. And I was so out of my element. I knew that I had a disadvantage and that this wasn’t something I had a true strength in. Other people in my class seemed to have read all the time and knew how to pick apart articles, had an eye for ads and design, understood the basic workings of PR and broadcasting. Me? I was the lowly writer who really only had the skills of an unpolished kindergartener. ...but I will be damned if I let my first step into the Journalism world be a misstep. So that summer, even more than my Biochemistry class, I worked my ass off more than ever before. Because it was a summer class, we crammed 16 weeks of work into 8... which was not the healthiest thing, honestly, because that required working and studying every single night, because this lady would present us with quizzes almost every single day of class. And this class was Monday through Thursday. Not to mention you had to make a C average or above in this class to be accepted into the College of Journalism (which, yes, is a given for anything, really), but as you will see from the quiz averages of this particular class, that was kinda touch and go, and I feared for my life and the life of my classmates at several points. And thus arrives the main topic of this post. Hahaha! (That took a while, right?) These quizzes we were subjected to tested absolutely everything (but truthfully, essentially nothing) about the supposed skills a journalist should have. Looking back... honestly, it was mostly hogwash, as you’ll come to see. Hahaha! This class was so bad and so hard that I ended up making daily Facebook status posts about it and then compiling them all together in a singular post titled “Lessons in Journalism Hell” posted on my Blogspot exactly 9 years ago today. I think the funniest (and frankly most appalling) thing this teacher did for this class was each morning, she would post the quiz averages of the day before on the large projector in front of the class, which I always wrote down so that I could relay how horrid this class was, and she also put the highest score and the lowest score on the projector and always, without fail, revealed to the class who made the highest score. ...if she had revealed who made the lowest score, she probably would’ve been murdered, honestly, because no one in the class liked her. And if someone made a perfect score, she would put the student’s name up there for all to see. ...it was kinda insane what this lady did. I look back on this course with such comical contempt, because I was like, “if all of my Journalism classes are going to be like this, I have made a grave mistake.” Thankfully, this was not the case. JMC 2033 is, notoriously, and especially when taught by this one particular crazy lady, is the hardest class in the college. I think what made it hard was it was an introductory course that attempted to teach all Journalism majors the basic concepts of journalism and mass communication, which included advertising, broadcasting, PR, and professional writing, and incorporated the necessities of media literacy and competence. I will say that I learned a few things from this class. But was any of it particularly useful? I mean, a good majority of our assignments and preparation for quizzes was to read or watch or listen to something that was published within a specific time window the day/night before and remember every single goddamn detail we possibly could and hope that we even read, watched, or listened to the right thing so that we could answer quiz questions the following morning. ...perhaps that only useful thing I did pick up from this class was a stronger resilience and work ethic than what I had previously. Haha! And so, without further ado, I would like to repost my Lessons in Journalism Hell on my tumblr today, to commemorate a rather miserable yet pretty laughable time in my life 9 years ago when I decided to pursue a Journalism major the summer before my Junior year of college. Each lesson is numbered and dated with a short sentence or two I devised to describe what the quiz was about, followed by the class average (and often my own personal commentary on such average). I don’t remember my own grades from these quizzes, as I didn’t write them down. It felt like it was poor form. Also, the teacher took back our quizzes after we had five seconds to review them (for some dumbass reason I will never understand), so I don’t have them in any archives of mine. But anyway, I present to you, Lessons in Journalism Hell, June 9 - July 29, 2010. June 9 | Journalism Hell Lesson #1: Copy-editing marks. A journalist MUST learn how to copy-edit using the CORRECT symbols and marks. Class avg: 57.7/100 ...HOLY CRAP! June 10 | Journalism Hell Lesson #2: Making distinctions. A journalist MUST learn how and when to use who vs. whom. Class avg: 79.6/100 June 14 | Journalism Hell Lesson #3: AP Style. A journalist MUST learn how to use AP (Associated Press) style of writing. Class avg: 63/100... and teacher said she expected great things from this quiz -.- June 15 | Journalism Hell Lesson #4: Newspapers. A journalist MUST learn how to read a newspaper--and figure out what content the teacher will quiz over. Class avg: horrendously low... T_T June 16 | Journalism Hell Lesson #5: Language Lapses. A journalist MUST learn that you feel bad NOT badly, that mobs are always angry and beatings are usually brutal, and finally, that you are usually nauseated, NOT nauseous...unless you make OTHER people want to vomit. Class avg: 97.3/100 :] June 17 | Journalism Hell Lesson #6: Newspapers Round 2. A journalist MUST learn how to read the newspaper (again), analyze it, memorize important facts, and rely on sheer gut about what the heck the teacher will ask on the quiz. Class avg: 68.2/100 ...my Buddha. -.- June 21 | Journalism Hell Lesson #7: Diversity. A journalist MUST know the difference between an oreo and a twinkie. Enough said. Class avg: 75.7/100 June 22 | Journalism Hell Lesson #8: Diversity Part 2. A journalist MUST learn how to read online news sources about blacks, Native Americans, and gays. Class avg: 43.7/100 ...OH MY SNAPS! We're getting killed by these quizzes! June 23 | Journalism Hell Lesson #9: It's anyone's guess. A journalist MUST know that if he/she WERE smarter, he/she would have made a better grade on this quiz. Class avg: 77/100 June 24 | Journalism Hell Lesson #10: Huffingtonpost.com. A journalist MUST... oh, what the hell. This quiz was completely insane and taught me nothing besides how terribly vague and untimely the quiz content was. All I learned was that huffingtonpost.com updates multiple times and the time frame we journalism students were given was within a 10-hour time span. Class avg: 58.8/100 -- I'm starting to get worried... June 29 | Journalism Hell Lesson #11: AP style round 2. A journalist MUST continue to learn how to use AP (Associated Press) style of writing. Class avg: 70/100 June 30 | Journalism Hell Lesson #12: The Week (online magazine). A journalist MUST not give up. As we are all getting tired of this, refer back to lessons 4, 6, and 10. Class avg: 71.9/100 July 1 | Journalism Hell Lesson #JUST KIDDING: There was no quiz today. WHOOPEE! July 6 | Journalism Hell Lesson #13: Us Weekly. A journalist MUST not let his/her brain melt while reading this tabloid-esque trash. Class avg: 78.1/100 July 7 | Journalism Hell Lesson #14: AP style round 3. A journalist MUST continue to learn how to use AP style of writing. Class avg: 93.2/100 ...WOOHOO! July 8 | Journalism Hell Lesson #15: Pluralizing. It's bitches and hoes! Class avg: 85.9/100 July 12 | Journalism Hell Lesson #16: AP style round 4. Class avg: 85.9/100 July 13 | Journalism Hell Lesson #17: AP style round 5. Class avg. 82.1/100 July 15 | Journalism Hell Lesson #18: NPR. A journalist MUST listen to 20 stories of Morning Edition on NPR (National Public Radio) and remember all the details. Class avg. 76.4/100 July 19 | Journalism Hell Lesson #19: NBC Nightly News @ 5:30 p.m. A journalist MUST watch the 5:30 p.m. programming of NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams. Class avg. 89.3/100 July 20 | Journalism Hell Lesson #20: AP style round 6. Class avg. 85.7/100 July 21 | Journalism Hell Lesson #21: Advertising Age (AdAge.com). A journalist MUST be familiar with AdAge.com. Class avg. 70.9/100 ...and we were doing so well. -.- July 22 | Journalism Hell Lesson #22: PR Newswire (prnewswire.com). A journalist MUST be familiar with a PR tool website. Class avg. 72.9/100 July 26 | Journalism Hell Lesson #23: ESPN.com. A journalist MUST ...seriously?! This is by far the stupidest thing I've studied. Class avg. 75.4/100 July 27 | Journalism Hell Lesson #24: The First Amendment. A journalist MUST memorize the First Amendment... word for word. Class avg. 81.5/100. Awesomeness! July 28 | Journalism Hell Lesson #25: TMZ.com. A journalist MUST read more trash. Ugh. Class avg. 68.6/100. ...GEEZ! July 29 | Journalism Hell Lesson #26: Gawker.com. And so, the last lesson in Journalism Hell before the shit hits the fan. A journalist MUST read even MORE trash. -.- Class avg. 71.2/100 Hahaha! There you have it. Needless to say, I got through this class with an A (thank Buddha. I honestly would have been a little upset if the decision to pick up a second major in college brought down my GPA and further hurt my chances of getting into medical school). My teacher called out my name a number of times because I had made the highest grade on a quiz, and I think my name showed up on the board twice because I had made a perfect score on two quizzes. Each time, I just sunk into my seat and avoided eye contact. I definitely did not take these instances as accolades, because it made me feel really bad because the class averages were so low, and my classmates honestly were not having it with this lady, so I definitely did not appreciate her putting me on the spot. But regardless, I persevered and left JMC 2033 in the rear-view mirror as I started my actual Professional Writing classes the following fall semester. It gave me a giggle to go through this post again. Some comical memories of a pretty grueling summer, for sure, but productive and successful nonetheless. In the end, I definitely enjoyed my classes at the Journalism college, and it was definitely a decision that I did not regret. Anyway, just thought I’d trek through memory lane for a bit on this late night. Till next time. :]
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what do you plan on doing with your degree? how did you decide on your two majors? are you a double major? what year are you in? how are you today
hi! okay a lot at once but i will try to answer as well as i can lol. i am going to change up the order a little to better answer them. 
i am great today! i had an awful awful migraine last night and went to bed really early because of it but i woke up feeling so so much better. i am now at work and ready to get some shit done today bc i have three important tasks i need to complete before tomorrow rolls around and then i can just index the rest of the time unless my boss wants me to run to the courthouse to get some deeds or tax ids. 
i am basically a junior in college! so i basically did my first two years of college while i was in high school bc i took the opportunity to do college courses while i was in high school. starting when i was a junior in high school, i was a full time high school and college student! i started the classes the summer between my freshman and sophomore year and i loved doing those courses during my summer months. i graduated in may 2017 from hs and then went straight to college in the fall at a university, but then dropped out in march for financial reasons. during my uni time, i was working on classes that were going towards my major, which was english at the time but then i switched to education in the spring so i took a semester and a half of courses that really dont go to my majors now lol. 
BUT i am going back to school in january at the local community college to finish out my two classes i need to be a junior in college and i will graduate with my assoicate’s degree from that institution, and then immediately transfer to another one to finish off my bachelor’s. 
so whenever i go in march or april to pick my classes for my next uni, i will then declare that i am a double major. rn they only have me in the college of education but i will also be in the college of social sciences or whatever it is for psychology. i am specifically studying a branch of psychology that is basically child psychology but it is called “parent training” so it is more in depth to the social qualiities of a child’s psychology and upbringing. i am guessing it will be a major that will have me research a lot into the whole nature vs nurture argument, which i am very well-versed in lol. 
now, i actually chose my majors quite recently. as i mentioned before, i used to be an english major. i would have been probably for the rest of my education if i hadnt taken this one class at my last university. it was a senior-level english course that i weaseled my way into because it also had a volunteer work credit that i needed to graduate and i wanted to get it out of the way immediately. well, i fell in love with this course. it featured a lot of reading and poetry-writing, but it was mainly about education. the professor was an education professor who had been studying his field for years and years and so he had us read a lot of books about education and different learning styles and methods and diversity education and things like that. the volunteering aspect was us going to a local high school and having an art program after school where the students could write, draw, or whatever and express themselves creatively. 
reading these books about education and all the problems that are in our current system really interested me. i never expected to be so interested in it and suddenly, i was asking him for more reading material. i was reading everything i could get my hands on when it came to education and i talked to love about it constantly and he told me one night during one of our skype sessions “honestly, maybe you should go into it. you have always enjoyed tutoring and teaching and you tell me all the time how excited you are to go to the high school and talk to the students. i really think that this is your passion.” that was when i realized that it really was. i had always loved teaching and had always been so amazed by the differences in people’s minds. growing up, i was thought of as stupid when i was three until seven bc i couldnt speak. i couldnt understand language at all and only knew sign language. it just wouldnt click for me but i loved reading and writing and listening to people talk to understand new ideas. once i could speak, i wowed my teachers with how motivated i was to learn and participate in class. people are shocked now to hear that i ever had speech difficulties bc i talk so quickly and fluidly and never stutter but it was a long time coming for me. 
bc of that, i have always been very interested in how other people’s minds work. i love to hear about their ideas, even if i dont agree with them. i love to see their logic and their way of speaking and thinking and doing and learning. it is all so fascinating to me. 
so a few months ago, i decided i wanted to be an education major. i want to teach in the public schools for a while, specifically elementary students. i love seeing their enthusiasm and want to pique their interest in learning even more. i want them to understand that they actually do love learning and they just hate the way school is organized. it isnt organized or ran according to how they could think or feel. and that is my second idea. i want to change the way that we teach students. standardized testing? out the window. doesnt help kids learn and just teaches children that they are punished no matter what they do. it also punishes teachers for no reason. rigid class structure? out the window. doesnt work for a single student. it just makes adults feel like they are in charge. art programs? back in every single school. every child needs an outlet and the best way to allow for healthy mind development is through artistic expression. even the jocks may enjoy painting and reading and writing and drawing. everyone has something that they are good at and usually it is something more abstract than students are allowed to explore in a typical public school. 
the psych major comes in handy too to back me up. i want to be able to do research in child psychology the entirety of my career so that when i go into politics, i can show them my research. i want to publish it for all to see. i want to look into standardized testing, lack of art programs, high intensity sports at young ages, and learning styles. i am so excited bc for my uni for the fall, i have applied to the honors program so i will be able to do solo research at my discretion. that will be amazing and i will use that opportunity as much as i can. 
as you can see, i am too passionate to create a very coherent reply to your ask. but thank you for the ask!!! i love it so much. i love sharing my ideas with all of you and seeing what you think about it. if you have any more questions about it, send them my way! also, talk to me about education!!!! i can talk all day on it!!!! 
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richseok · 6 years
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too good at goodbyes.
prompt: [based loosely on this song.] for many years, you had prided yourself on your ability to see through deception. only now, it caused you more pain than satisfaction. or, all the reasons as to why it’s a bad idea to fall in love with your best friend. 
genre: angst, eventual fluff. themes of the importance of self-love.
word count: 3.100
a/n: enjoy this short and very messy drabble as i get back into the habit of writing. i wanted to write this specifically for those who feel as if they are not good enough or who have been told that they should change for others. remember, only you can be the judge of what you love about yourself. do not be discouraged by those who can not see the beauty of your own flaws.  
The span of your relationship had been built on the foundation of a platonic friendship which had eventually evolved into more romantic aspects. Your years as friends, as you recalled, had been slow-paced and eccentric, the romantic aspect kept hidden in the back of your mind where almost all your fantasies occurred.The slight intertwining of fingers, gentle embraces, and tender glances shared with different intentions; one more intense than the other. Unrequited love had plagued you for years as every moment you shared with him, the more you fell in love with him.
You were not open with your own emotions, in fact, it had been Jeongguk who had initiated the relationship. The two of you had been friends throughout high school; a pair of contrasting individuals unlikely to befriend each other. Your demeanor was cold and aloof, your relationships never long-lasting because of your lack of attachment and inability to tear down your walls. The kids at your school had dubbed you the “Ice Princess,” in their attempts to be witty and original. You had returned their malicious intentions with a high strong attitude and an erected middle finger, to which their mouths would turn agape with horror.
Jeongguk was well-liked and well-versed. An adorable face to match a toned body and a contagious laughter which had many infatuated with him; he was approachable, quite the opposite of intimidating. You had no intentions of befriending boys in your freshman year, especially not ones with gorgeous smiles and imaginative eyes. He was akin to the moon, emotional and lovely and captivating. So, when he had cornered you in the library one evening, books in his hand and a grin planted on his mouth, you were startled.
“You are truly undesirable, Y/N Y/L/N, you know that?” Before the protests had escaped your mouth he had hushed you with a giggle. A giggle. “So undesirable that you are, in fact, desirable!” Jeongguk liked to believe that that was when your friendship had blossomed despite your protests. You two had become inseparable, attached to the hip and everything. For no one had given you the amount of reassurance the Jeongguk had. You helped him with his girl drama, offering him advice on how to swoon even the most stubborn of girls. Eventually, it had proved to be resourceful, as it had resulted in even your emotions being swayed by the charming boy.
Your afternoons were spent at his house studying for tests, the both of you ambitious to receive high marks. Jeonngguk’s room would be bombarded with papers and textbooks containing enough information to cause both of you migraines. He massaged your shoulders while you rubbed your own temples, completely agonized by the upcoming Chemistry exam. He comforted you with motivational words which made you gag, but you didn’t let him see the disgust written on your face. Eventually, you two would continue in silence, the sound of pencils scribbling and pages turning filling the room with white noise. Yet that silence would be disturbed, as Jeongguk would eventually become bored with his homework and decide to ramble about his day. The topics were endless, from what he had had for lunch to the last girl he hooked up. Albeit you would pretend to listen, in order to make him feel better.
“Yeah, there’s this girl in my choir. She’s a complete ditz, you know?” He began. “Let’s people walk all over her it’s kind of pathetic.  But she’s got a nice voice, she just whispers when she sings. She’s the complete shy type.”
“Oh?” You responded, too preoccupied with your equations to take notice of his rambling.
He sighed loudly, flicking eraser bits in your hair to grab your attention. “You think I should talk to her, you know, to not make her feel so lonely in class. All her other friends take different courses so, it would be a pretty kind act.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed out because as much as you loved that boy, you could not let him disturb your concentration with his girl drama.  “Jeongguk, if it really makes you feel better than, yes, talk to her.” Your eyes left the paper to catch him pondering on the subject. He turned his head to avoid your gaze and it was then that you realized his cheeks were tinged red.
Both you and Jeongguk had graduated with honors due to your study dates. You began dating the summer of your graduation, after many advances made on your own part. He was not a fool, but he had been cautious, not wanting to ruin the foundation of a very powerful friendship while also not wanting to break your heart. You sensed his hesitation, but you ignored it, as you were too infatuated with him to care. It would prove to be a terrible mistake on your part, but you just wanted your first love to reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, years of pining could make someone quite unrelenting.
You pulled out your phone, staring at the time which slowly counted down the time you two had left as a couple until it was your voice which broke you two apart. Three years of commitment gone, just because you were too scared to admit the truth that lied ahead of you. Both of you had prolonged the relationship, too afraid to destroy what took years to build. A foundation now cracked with insecurities and awkwardness. You knew that Jeongguk was too afraid to hurt you because, despite it all, he loved you more than anyone. You were as close as a sister, his confidant, his best friend. But nonetheless, you were a lover who was too afraid to completely put her guard down, and Jeongguk was someone who needed his partner’s complete trust. Nonetheless, his love for you never reached past the point of platonic love. These differences pulled and tore your relationship apart until it was no longer salvageable.
You thought for a moment, that maybe if you had only changed for him, would he had fallen in love with you. Perhaps if your words hadn’t had such a bite or your sentences hadn’t dripped in sarcasm would he have seen you more than a mere friend to laugh alongside. Your attitude was so sharp that it was no wonder Jeongguk had looked at her with such loving eyes. She was so kind, soft-hearted, and he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You cursed to yourself, pushing away the nasty thoughts your mind had conjured, wanting to deceive you into thinking you weren’t good enough. Your conscious knew what you had to do, it had whispered to you multiple times that your relationship was only reaching new levels of toxicity.
So, for the sake of your own happiness, you pressed down on his contact, the picture of you two causing tears to spring into your eyes. “Jeongguk, baby, we need to talk.”
….
Perhaps it was your outstanding intuition which told your heart there was something misplaced. The inklings of a planned future now erased and forgotten as your heart tore itself in half. Though it would be worth mentioning that you were not one to let yourself be carried away with your emotions, instead you bottled it all up inside, letting it fizz and bubble until it erupted. So you kept silent for now, muffled your cries with your lips as you drove your car to your dreaded destination. As your warm tears streamed down your face, you felt a great release of stress lifted from your shoulder. God, you thought. I should do that more often. You wiped the smudged makeup under your eyes and re-applied another coat of mascara to make yourself look at least a little presentable.
You let your eyes linger on your reflection, making sure that no tears or contrasts of reds lingered in the whites of your eyes before opening the door and stepping out into the cool air.
You told Jeongguk to meet you at a cafe fifteen minutes away from your home. Neither of you had ventured inside, making it the perfect destination to break up with your boyfriend of three years. After all, what was the point of adding such negative connotations to a place you enjoyed? You approached the cafe slowly, reading the chalkboard sign which read ‘Cherry’s Cafe! Today’s special: The Peppermint Mocha!” You wrinkled your nose at the prospect of the sugary drink and opened the door gently. You were instantly hit with the comforting smell of coffee beans and baked goods and frowned at how cute the area was; it was very lovely indeed. Too bad you wouldn’t visit the area anytime soon after that day.
After you had ordered your coffee, you sat down and took off your coat, waiting for Jeongguk to arrive. To your dismay, he arrived on time. He scanned the area for a moment before his eyes landed on you, and his great goofy smile appeared on his lips. Even after everything, his smile would always send butterflies to your stomach. He approached you and you stood up to greet him with a gentle smile.
“What’s the special occasion?” He asked before swooping down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.
You shook your head, beckoning him to sit down across from you. “Just wanted to discuss something with you, that’s all.”
He hummed in response and cast you another smile. “I’m gonna go order something, you want anything?”
“Already ordered for myself, but if you could pick up my coffee, that would be great.”
Jeongguk winks at you as he stands up. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He chuckled at his own pet name for you, but it only left a sour taste in your mouth.
“You’ve got to try this, Y/N,” he said whilst scooping a large piece of cake into his mouth. “It’s got the right amount of sweetness! Not too sugary, it’s perfect!” He savored each bite with pleasure as you watched his nose scrunch up in pure bliss. The chocolate lava cake only made you feel sick as you looked upon it; it’s brown icing no longer as appetizing as the minutes passed by. You had no idea how you were to go about your statement, only dreading each passing second and hoping that an entity somewhere in this Godforsaken world would give you the strength to talk it out with him.  
Noticing your silence, Jeongguk raised a spoonful to your mouth, a mischievous glint in his doe eyes. You sighed and shook your head, declining his offer for a taste, to which he frowned and crossed his arms. “Alright, what’s up?”
Your eyes met his, and you saw how his brow quirked up in concern. You felt bile rise up in your throat as you continued to stare into his black, endless eyes, and you had to look away in order to prevent vomit from being spewed all over the table. Your fists tightened on your lap, knuckles turning white and nails digging into your palms, leaving indents on your soft skin. You had almost lost yourself in your thoughts when Jeongguk brought you back into reality.
“Babe, is everything okay?”
You had to say it, or else you would never escape the cycle of pain and unrequited love. Your mouth opened three times. The first, no sound came out, instead, another puff of air. The second, a gasp-like sound, only incoherent noises which left Jeongguk only more confused, The third—
“We should break up,” You said quickly and abruptly.
Jeongguk’s eyes widened in shock. He leaned back into his seat processing your words with a confounded look on his features. The both of you were engulfed in a mutual silence for what seemed minutes until he cleared his throat and looked at you seriously. “May I ask, why?”
Why? You could have provided him with millions of reasons as to what made you come to your decision. You were both exhausted with your relationship. You both had different aspirations, different goals to be met. You both were in love, but not with each other — at least Jeongguk wasn’t in love with you. You did not want to continue a relationship which was unhappy on both ends. Not when he longed to be with someone else. The sex, the kisses, the affection, it all lacked one thing: Love. Neither of you wanted to risk ending your relationship at the expense of your friendship. The situation was vicious and fragile. So you give him a simple answer, truthful and straightforward. “You are in love with someone else.”
His lips tighten and his jaw clenches and his face becomes riddled with one emotion: Shame. “Y/N, I d-don’t know, I can’t even begin to think what’s made you come up with this conclusion.”
“Jeongguk, the one thing about being your best friend is being able to understand every single one of your mannerisms. I know you, Jeongguk. Better than you can imagine, and I know what my best friend looks like when he’s in love. And frankly, that expression was never once bestowed upon me,” you said bluntly and it hurt so much, but you knew that it if you didn’t say what you needed to say, the pain would only prolong.
He closed his eyes and chewed the inside of his cheek before looking at you with eyes filled with sincerity. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted you to be happy.”
You bit your lip in to prevent the tears which threatened to form. God, you just wanted to get home and cry to your heart’s content. “Jeongguk, I was bound to get hurt from the moment I knew how I felt. There was no preventing it, I just wished I could’ve acknowledged your own emotions sooner.”
He shook his head bitterly and chuckled. “If I could have chosen, you would be the woman I would’ve fallen in love with, without a doubt.”
You cracked a smile and snorted. “Don’t say that.” You curled your fingers around his palm, looking into his eyes with love. The warmth in your chest becoming overwhelming and saddening as you prepared for the final parting. He stared at your face with confusion, sadness nor anger resided in his facial features which only confirmed your theory: he never was truly in love with you. Perhaps he had wanted to escape the relationship for months now, though it was a question you believed was best left unanswered.
“Y/N, you know I still love you—”
“Yes, but it’s not in the way I want you too. We both know this.” He scrunched his brows in apology, no words escaping his lips as he could not come up with a rebuttal. His love was — is — platonic, and while you convinced yourself for many years that that was enough, your heart yearned for him to admit that you were wrong. That his love was as powerful as yours and that he would continue to welcome you home with that large goofy grin of his and kiss your smitten smile.  You sighed heavily, not allowing tears to form in your eyes —- not yet. “I need space, Guk. I need to sort out my own feelings before I can welcome you back into my arms and call you my ‘friend.” Not my boyfriend, just ‘friend’.”
It was that statement which struck a chord with him, his eyes glancing down at his palms which you still held warmly, comforting his icy fingers. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?” You stared down at the lava cake, now cold and soggy with chocolate sauce.
“And you are mine. Just give me time,” you smiled.
He nodded slowly, understanding the weight of your words. “Find all the time you need. I will always be right here for you, don’t you forget that. ”
You nodded at him avoiding his gaze.
“Oh, and Y/N,” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Thank you for everything and I’m sorry.” With a final kiss to your fingers, he grabbed his coat and left you alone in the booth.
Your healing would be gradual, spanning over the months of bitter cold and angry winds. The sadness would grip you with such fervor that even your own happiness seemed impossible. Your anguish was dark, ugly, and stubborn, which resulted in your isolation from those you loved, Jeongguk especially. You considered yourself pathetic for depending so heavily on him, but alas he was your best friend despite it all. Not only that but your first love as well.  You never expected to break your own heart. Be so disappointed and disillusioned with your own hand, that there was no one to blame but the fantasies which burned in your mind — cradling all your dreams and needs which you desired to be true. Yet it is your own suffering which helps you regain your strength.
You begin to realize that the chill of winter was not all bad, In fact, you began to enjoy the nip of the bitter wind and the cool air which pressed against your skin. You saw how the cold did not have to be ugly, and that in fact, it could be beautiful. The winter world which you had created for yourself was no longer destructive and unwanted, but a place filled with self-love and independence. It was exactly how you wanted it to be.
You never stop loving Jeongguk, not completely. Albeit, you find yourself okay with that, as it was impossible to disconnect your feelings without facing any repercussions. Instead, you let yourself fall back into his embrace, and this time, it is purely platonic on both ends. There are times when you find yourself questioning your own feelings, yet as you let yourself open slowly again, you find that his presence as your friend is more than you could ever ask for. He is not your rock, you are your own. You are grounded because of your own hard work, and although Jeongguk is your best friend, he is not your sole source of happiness. He is there for comfort and for mutual comradeship which is okay. You are both happy, and that is all that matters.
Jeongguk would find love, real love, with a wonderful girl he had met many years ago. She would look at him with the same infatuated eyes which you had once given him, except this time his eyes would return the sentiment. You don’t become envious or jealous of their relationship, instead, you help it flourish. You teach her all about Jeongguk quirks and habits, show her the areas of town he liked best, and most importantly, you become her friend as well. You find she is a marvelous a spring day in a world of habitual cold.
But it was no importance of yours to envy her warm persona and tender eyes, as you had finally found the beauty of an icy world.  
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itsyourturnblog · 4 years
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Arlene, Bret, Cindy, Dennis, Emily, Franklin, Gert, Harvey, Irene, Ten and Jose. A motley crew of ruckus makers if there ever was one.
By the fourth week of August 2005 fatigue had set in for residents of the Northern Gulf of Mexico. Eleven Atlantic storms had materialized, seven of those had entered the Gulf. Most had largely been non-events for those of us along the Mississippi Coast.
On that Saturday, I grumbled to my friend as he helped me board up our cottage on Beach Boulevard. It was a typical August day south of I-10 — very hot, smotheringly humid and blindingly bright. I made an offhand comment that “…maybe one of these damn storms would take out the highway and give us unfettered access to the beach.”
Be careful what you wish for.
We were planning a party for Sunday night — Holly and her team at work were to be featured on HGTV promoting a product they’d developed. We prepped food and bev accordingly, vacuumed the house and proceeded like it was any other day. The storm seemed to be heading south and west of us; we went to sleep excited about the party, mildly annoyed at the most recent storm distraction.
We were awakened by the phone ringing early Sunday morning. The voice on the other end said, with notable urgency “get up, it’s coming our way, it’s time to go.”
We made a few final preparations — put tarps over some heirloom furniture pieces, put some items on countertops or places where, if there might be water intrusion, they’d be more likely to stay dry.
We also helped some others finalize their own preparations, then grabbed a few days clothes, our dog and a wedding album. Making our way East and slightly inland. we took the back roads toward Mobile, AL as the Interstate was essentially gridlocked.
A week ago today (Tuesday 3/10/20), things here were normal. Everyone was in their respective offices. Schools that weren’t yet on spring break were meeting as usual. Life was clicking along normally. By Wednesday (3/11/20), tensions were rapidly rising. Forms of Pandemic Panic were beginning to show up.
Hurricanes and Pandemics are each natural disasters. Unlike tornadoes or earthquakes, you can know they’re coming with some certainty and even watch their progression over time. Predictive models, water temperature monitoring, Hurricane hunters. Test results, hospital capacity and visualization maps.
As Hurricane ‘alumni’, it has been interesting to watch the social evolution of the Covid-19 Pandemic. Mad runs on bottled water, toilet paper and grocery staples are standard issue Hurricane Panic behaviors. They apparently apply in Pandemics too.
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In a Hurricane scenario, the cone of uncertainty is finite — we know, with a comfortable degree of accuracy where the boundaries of landfall are likely to be and consequently where the damage will occur. The models tell us the sorts of impacts the storm will have and we know where we ought send the supplies and the work crews.
In a Pandemic, we also know where the impacts will be — we know, with an uncomfortable degree of accuracy where the boundaries will not be. We aren’t managing where to send supplies as much as we are attempting to manage when they’ll be needed. In some ways it is more like a hurricane season than a single hurricane.
In both Hurricanes and Pandemics, we need Movements of Love.
Lois, Doug, Laura, Bobby, Holly, Batch and Luke the dog. Also a motley crew of ruckus makers, albeit of a different sort.
We settled into our accommodations, a basement in small church. We grilled out that evening as the winds picked up.
Hunker down. Shelter in place. Forms of social distancing I suppose, before we even knew what that was.
Katrina.
She made landfall around 6AM Monday near the Louisiana, Mississippi border, August 29, 2005.
As we listened to the radio reports of extensive damage and destruction, we made a pact among the families we were with — if any of our homes were damaged, those less impacted would take in the others.
The six of us loaded up into the largest vehicle for the drive from Mobile to Gulfport/Biloxi early Tuesday morning. Nerves were frayed, aimless chatter punctuated the pensive silence. As we drove along I-10 and then southward into town, the damage didn’t seem as bad as we’d heard. We were hopeful, encouraged even.
As we proceeded further south and nearer the water, the damage became more apparent. The railroad runs parallel to the coastline there, about 2–3 blocks inland, forming a levee of sorts. About two blocks North of the tracks we were forced to park and walk. As we stepped up the gentile incline of the railbed, the Mississippi Sound came into full view — our house and most of our neighbors’ homes were completely gone.
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Holly and I were in a daze.
We expected to come home to a mess; instead we came home to nothing. We found furniture 2 blocks north and three blocks west. Eventually, I found my tool chest and our TV in the shallow waters of The Sound. We found two walls of our bedroom still intact — sconces still on the wall — a few blocks away. Our shock persisted as we made our way to the other families’ homes. Bobby and Laura had some impact but their house was livable. Doug and Lois fared the best. They insisted we move in with them.
So we did. For 10 months. A remarkable Movement of Love.
Our hosts and their family helped form a relief center out of the church we all attended. Donations of food, water, clothing and cleaning supplies were coordinated from across the country.
Sheds of hope were erected.
Crews were deployed to clean up what could be salvaged.
FEMA trailers began to arrive.
All of these Movements of Love — laying down one’s life for another — became almost normal.
Our friends at work raised money — lots of it — to help get us back on our feet.
Then they came from across the country to help us work on the house we’d purchased after the storm to restore.
More Movements of Love.
Katrina took out the highway in chunks, along with 90% of the structures within half a mile of the coastline.
Her highest winds (1-minute sustained) clocked in at 175 mph (280 km/h). Fatalities are estimated between 1,245 and 1,836. Economic damages were estimated at $125 billion. 15 years later, the community there is still recovering.
Lee, Maria, Nate, Ophelia, Philippe, Rita, Nineteen, Stan, Unnamed, Tammy, Twenty-Two, Vince, Wilma, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, Zeta.
By the end, it was the most active Atlantic Hurricane season in recorded history.
28 Tropical storms, 15 Hurricanes, 7of those major.
Much like in storms past, this week as we grow accustomed to Pandemic Preparations, we need Movements of Love.
These Movements can take many forms:
Make grocery runs for people more at risk than you
Care for those who are sick with other ailments
Call friends and family or set up video conferences with them
Teach others how to attend a video conference so they can stay connected
Help people who aren’t financially secure bridge this season of uncertainty
Run errands for the elderly
Tip generously in all service industries
Donate to food pantries & shelters
As much as you’re able, ensure your employees are paid even if circumstances prohibit their working a full load
Check-in with those who struggle with anxiety
Take time for self-care; take vitamins, eat well, break a sweat, get lots of sleep
Organize support for single parents
Check in on and encourage those who are in self-quarantine
Wash your hands; sanitize every surface
Stay home — establish and keep social distance
Find out of the ordinary ways to pitch in — at work, home, church, for your neighbors, for strangers — let’s lay down our lives for another in simply, wise, everyday way — let’s create Movements of Love…
What other ideas do you have?
Let’s spark a Movement of Love
Hurricanes, Pandemics and the Movements of Love was originally published in It's Your Turn on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
by Batch Batchelder via It's Your Turn - Medium #itsyourturn #altMBA #SethGodin #quotes #inspiration #stories #change #transformation #writers #writing #self #shipping #personaldevelopment #growth #education #marketing #entrepreneurship #leadership #personaldev #wellness #medium #blogging #quoteoftheday #inspirationoftheday
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lightoverturesystem · 6 years
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I’ve entered such an amazing phase of life since moving. Everything feels so much more.... magical. I’ve gone through phases where I felt life was not worth living, but it wasn’t all the time, somehow. Even so, things felt hopeless so often, so heavy, so meaningless. Now, I see opportunity at every turn. Many of my thought patterns are starting to change as I leave the surroundings of abuse for the first true time, and a hyper-vigilant PTSD trigger-happy phase: the world no longer feels as dark and scary. It’s still an incredibly hard place, and my situation is still razor thin, but there’s something about it that has changed.
Even just the simple act of coming home from a doctor’s appointment to a warm and warmly lit home that I feel safe in is a whole new and joyous celebration. I get into my door and break out in a smile. I throw my clothes wherever I please for a bit simply because I can for the first time without being abused, and I throw on my headphones without the need to tune someone out, but to look inward. I cook incredible and nutritious meals while reflecting on all I have learned. I eat on the floor, because no one is around to tell me not to. I used to be terrified of cooking at home, which was really sad for me since it was always a huge passion of mine-- so much so, I was accepted to a vocational high school to pursue it as a career. (The end of that is a different story, however.) I have the freedom to cook and burn things as I please without being screamed at and threatened with the police taking me away.
As I enter 2018, I feel this is the first year I can truly wholeheartedly commit to goals without being distracted and taken away from them from people who will hurt me. I sat today, writing a list of my goals for the coming years, which I hung on my bedroom door so that I am less likely to stray from them.
They are as followed:
I was prescribed physical and hydrotherapy along with a special kind of meditation to do for 30 minutes every day. Once a month, I will be hooked up to monitors while doing so, to measure if my central nervous system is calming down with the use of it. In my old house, and with the people who used to be in my life, I feel none of this would have been possible. I was spending a ridiculous amount of time not only trying to solve other people’s problems, (something in which I am working on stopping) or even feeling I have to because of trauma involving helping my mother constantly, but spent worrying about everyone fighting and not working on solving their own problems in healthy ways. The anxiety that being blackmailed and abused, and just being with people who were not emotionally mature or responsible was causing me had me having multiple panic attacks a day. All this was physically draining me, keeping me in bed with suicidal ideations.
For the last two years I have wanted a way out of interacting with a lot of people I cared about, with no way to convey how much I was suffering because of their issues being put onto me. It is partially my own fault for not leaving these situations, though fear because of abuse also played a part in keeping me paralyzed into friendships and relationships, and just not wanting to hurt their feelings. I am trying to be braver at saying things that are hard, which is actually another goal of mine to be better at for 2018! “Push through uncomfortable mental barriers.” These can be in either good or bad situations, as saying good things also makes me uncomfortable because it makes me vulnerable. But a person who no longer tells people the good things they deserve to hear because I have been hurt in the past and find it difficult is not the person I want to be.
Another goal I have is to finally get to the bottom of my EDS diagnosis. At the start of this year, I was suggested I may have EDS by my doctor because of a range of symptoms I was experiencing, and was referred to a rheumatologist. They then told me I need to go to a special place that does genetic testing, and that they don’t do it there. EDS is only genetic, and there are six types, one of which affects the heart and can be fatal. Given my biological little sister was born with 4 holes in her heart and I know neither of my parents medical history... it’s pertinent I get this checked out. I called a Genetic Testing lab across the state and left a voicemail asking if they took my insurance and if I needed another referral and am waiting back for this. Having this as a diagnosis would certainly explain a lot going on with me also, but I do not know how to feel. On one end, it would put an end to a lot of questions I have. On another, scary.
Today, I went to my Endocrinologist who treats me for Hypothyroidism. A few months ago, my medication treating this, needed an increase because my thyroid is slowly dying as I get older, and slowly decreasing in how much hormone it puts out. It’s tricky, the thyroid, and now I am being overly medicated, causing me to have too much of this hormone, leading to a state of dangerous medicine induced mania. While researching more on my condition, I found that eating soy is one of the staple foods that people with Hashimoto’s Disease, the underlying autoimmune disease I have that caused my Hypothyroidism, should avoid. As a spoonie vegan, admittedly I eat a lot more soy than I’d like to admit. Fried tofu is a favorite... So I am setting a goal of eating less soy, and more veggies, which I have never gotten enough of. As I have started also taking an antacid because I have had a longstanding acid reflex problem that has never been able to be attended to until now, I am going to be quitting coffee and starting to drink caffeinated tea. I have been addicted to caffeine for many years because it helps combat the fatigue and shake off some of my pain, and it took years to quit soda. Then I moved onto coffee and it’s time to kick that too.
My personal best for long distance walking was 13 miles. At that time in my life, I was extremely manic and my life was experiencing a lot of changes too. I had just quit youtubing, experienced a major breakup, and had to move back home with two abusers. I was in an entirely new town and in a very triggering household. It wasn’t a good time. This manic phase was continued until I witnessed a night of horrible partner-on-partner abuse and then I quickly entered a depressive phase for a long while. Everything in my life started going wrong, and from then on I stopped walking as part of my weekly regime. I took up time at the gym, but it was not the same. My long walks were a time of healthy dissociation and meditation. Often when I had a troubling personal problem I could not find the answer to, the answers would come to me on these walks. Aided by adrenaline and healthy hormones flowing through me in these moments and good music that helped me express painful emotions, I worked through many incredibly hard things on these trips. They were crucial to my mental health at the time. I greatly miss them, and in this time of healing and light, I feel they could do me a lot of good again. Now in a new area where I am surrounded by farms past one direction in my house and city in another, come spring I am going to start walking again. I am a little impatient it’s pretty much only January. It’s been going down to the negatives at night already!
Until then, literally at the end of my street like 200 feet away is a cat shelter that I have applied and already volunteered at. I always knew I would benefit greatly from pet therapy, and while I can’t have a cat here, the next best thing is to be able to give a lot of cats who don’t get love otherwise, the attention they need and crave. And let’s be honest, I need their affection probably more than they need mine.
Also in this year I am going to be continuing my pesonal cooking and baking journey. I started this in 2016, and since I’ve learned and gotten good at a lot of recipes that I have loved sharing with others, and cooking for others. Over the winter, I plan on making a lot of bread, cookies, and muffins. I’ve already made killer chocolate chip muffins and gingersnaps straight from scratch. And vegan baking is a little more tricky than regular baking honestly.
Later in the year, as the Yule holidays approach, I am going to be researching more pagan topics, and getting to know and celebrate my new holidays more! I’ve already had a fun with a few! In my everyday schedule, I am going to work toward having more control over my new voice, and work up to someday being able to take vocal lessons. Lastly, as I did greatly in 2016 and this year, I am going to get to know a lot of my alters more, and lower the complicated and painful dissociative barriers between all of us. In the start of this year, I only knew of 3 or 4 of my alters, and almost nothign about them. Looking back, they have grown jsut as much as me since. Hector is moving in a healthy and non-violent direction, something I never thought I’d see happen. When I was dating the poly couple last year, I had a discussion with them about how my violent urges were dissipating and how much I felt better. This raised an unintentional rift between me and the guy of the relationship, as he is a very violent-centered person a lot of the time, suffering from intrusive thoughts, violent outbursts. I felt guilty for the separation coming between us; I almost held back my own growth to stay in a place he was out of guilt, and denial that I was outgrowing him in a different direction, a place that would have been devastating to my psyche and not healthy for anyone around me. Hector, the main alter who has carried a lot of my violent thoughts and feelings, would have been the main sufferer from this decision. Now, he’s taking on new interests that not only don’t hurt the system, but have us learning about new things, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
I am a person that I strive to grow in my empathy and the love I can extend to everyone around me. I only shut this off when it becomes harmful to me, like if someone was taking advantage of it. But outside of that, it is my main goal to learn about many points of view and be able to connect with them without losing my own morality, especially points of view I don’t agree on. This may not change my actions, but I will always try to remain respectful. This is something I consciously started working on this year, but unconsciously back in 2015. Having Hector be a person that does not hold us back from this, and affect the way we treat those who have hurt us in a negative way is crucial in moving forward in my goals for my life.
Blue has transformed himself in an incredible way this year. He is a lot more vocal about his needs with at least my partner. At the beginning of 2017, he started with saying very short and toddler like sentences. He can now carry on fluent and quite philosophical conversations for a 4 year old. The dissociative barriers from the summer alone have us able to switch most of the time at will now, which far as I know is only something that can happen after at least a partial integration. The fact he is willingly able to meet anyone at all is huge since he was neo-exiled a few years ago. While he still sexually self harms, especially after learning about my father this year, he is able to also now not be limited to these actions sexually, and can exhibit healthy sexual behavior.
Lothric grew a lot at the start of the year, then went dormant for the most part except through passive influence, which I have mixed feelings on. On one hand, its nice to no longer be in religious conflict. On another, my partner and one of her alters grew very close to Lothric, and then he had several alters unblend from him and leave him a very different person away from their influence, and they miss him and who he used to be a lot. Since we started a pintrest board for him and he has been unblending, he shed himself of so much darkness and became a person all about light and positivity. It could be useful to have him around still when things got bad.
2017 has been a year that has zoomed by, but my main goals of getting to know myself better, getting to a safe place and with good people in my life have been checked off the list, along with goals I set along the way like cooking, letting go of bad trauma-related items, and taking better care of my teeth!
I hope I am in as good as a place by the end of 2018.
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trentteti · 4 years
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Which 2020-2021 LSAT Date Should You Choose?
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There has never been more choices when it comes to taking the LSAT — there are three LSATs left in this 2019-20 LSAT “year” and the following “year” will feature eight more. But as anyone who has spent hours scrolling through Netflix to find a new show (before settling on something they’ve seen before (and spending most of the watch time on their phone)) can attest, more choice doesn’t always make the choice easier. So today, to make your LSAT choice a little less difficult, we’ll go through each of published LSAT dates through 2021 and discuss some pros and cons of each administration.
But first, the ground rules for choosing your LSAT ….
The most important factor, by far, in choosing an LSAT is study time. Studying for the LSAT is, for most people, a two-to-four month, twenty-hours-per-week process. So when choosing an LSAT, think about the two to four months before that test date. Will you have the time during those months to dedicate about twenty hours of weekly study time?
The second most important factor should be whether the LSAT will allow you to apply early in the law school admissions cycle. Law schools use rolling admissions, which means they start offering acceptance letters as soon as they start receiving applications. Ideally you want to get your applications submitted early in that cycle, before too many acceptance letters are sent out. You should aim to have your applications submitted by October or November in the year before you’d start your first year at law school (so October or November 2020 if you plan on starting law school in fall 2021). Obviously, taking an LSAT after that October or November would prevent you from meeting this goal.
And you definitely shouldn’t try to game the system by choosing an LSAT you’ve been told is usually “easier” than other LSATs. First of all, no one — other than the malicious logicians who make this test — knows how hard or easy an exam’s questions will be ahead of time. Second, LSATs are curved, so test takers who take an LSAT with “easier” questions have to answer more questions correctly to earn the same score as test takers who took an LSAT with “harder” questions. For that reason, no LSAT has been historically harder or easier than any other LSAT. You can’t game the system with the LSAT; any LSAT will require at least a few months of hard work, which brings us back to the first point.
And with all that said, let’s get to the 2020-21 LSAT dates …
March 30, 2020 (Monday, 12:30 pm)
Registration Deadline: February 11, 2020 (Tuesday)
This one’s fast approaching — as you can see, you have less than a week to sign up for it. Unless you’re already studying to prepare for this exam, or are just trying to boost your score by a couple points, it’s probably too late in the game to choose this one. But if you decide it’s March or Die, check out our one-month and two-month study plans.
April 25, 2020 (Saturday, 8:30 am)
Registration Deadline: March 10, 2020 (Tuesday)
The April 2020 LSAT exists in a weird liminal space. It’s administered too late in the year for applicants who want to begin law school in fall 2020, but it’s really early for applicants who want to begin law school in 2021. It’s administered quite a bit after most university’s spring break, so that week off won’t provide a late study opportunity. But it’s also administered a little bit before most university’s finals weeks, so finals studying probably won’t conflict with LSAT studying. So if you’re a graduate, or a university student who doesn’t mind threading the needle between spring break and finals, and you want to begin law school in 2021, and you want a lot of runway before the 2020-21 application season to retake the LSAT or get your application materials together, we can recommend the April LSAT.
June 8, 2020 (Monday, 12:30 pm) (disclosed test)
Registration Deadline: TBD
The June LSAT is perennially great for working folk. You can take the June LSAT and get your score back by July, giving you several months to leisurely compile your application materials before sending them in early in the admissions cycle. Even with a busy work schedule, the June LSAT grants you enough time to prevent your stress level from hitting the red during application season.
The June LSAT is a little less kind to folks still in school, however. It’s held less than a month after finals for most students (or around the same time as finals for students on the quarter system), which will obviously eliminate the study time you can dedicate to the June exam. For these students, we recommend holding off ’til July or later.
July 13, 2020 (Monday, 12:30 pm)
Registration Deadline: TBD
The July test can help out working folks nearly as much as the June LSAT. The scores will likely be released in mid-August, so those in the workforce will still have at least a month to build their application and submit them very early in the 2020-21 application cycle.
But the July LSAT helps out students and recent grads way more than the June LSAT. The July 2020 LSAT will be held a couple months after finals at most universities. We’d recommend starting the LSAT study process before you begin finals, pushing through finals weeks and the inevitable post-finals hangover, and then reigniting you LSAT studies in earnest, and carrying that momentum through July.
Also, night owls should be advised that this is the last afternoon LSAT in the 2020-21 year. So if you’d prefer not to take your test at the early hour of 8:30 am, consider July 2020.
And, nota bene, if you hear anything about being able to cancel your July LSAT score after receiving it, or getting a free retake if you cancel your July LSAT score, that applied only to the July 2019 LSAT. The July 2020 test offers no such deal.
August 29, 2020 (Saturday, 8:30 am) (disclosed)
Registration Deadline: TBD
This one’s super exciting for me. The fall LSAT has historically been held in mid-to-late September or early October. Before the July LSAT was introduced in 2018, students who wanted to use their summers to study for the LSAT were forced to take the September or October LSAT. However, the September or October LSAT would often conflict with midterms or papers for these students. So people would spend their entire summers getting ready for the LSAT, only for the LSAT to conflict with their Global Environment and World Politics class or something. For this reason, I’ve long advocated that the September/October LSAT should be moved to late July or August. So I’d love it if droves of you signed up to take this LSAT, just to prove me right.
But regardless of any selfish desires for validation, this is a pretty good date for any student who wants to use their summer to study for the LSAT. It’s especially good for those who want to go straight from undergrad to law school. Those students can dedicate the summer between their junior and senior year to study for the August test, which shouldn’t conflict with their senior-year classes.
That said, if you want to apply early in the application cycle, you should also use your summer to start assembling your applications. That way, you’ll have your applications ready to go around the time you’ll receive your score in September, allowing you to apply early.
October 3, 2020 (Saturday, 8:30 am)
Registration Deadline: TBD
This is another exam for students who want to use their summers to study. I think it’ll be especially good for students on the quarter system. They get out of school in mid-June, which would make it difficult to get fully prepared for the July or even August 2020 exams. But they’ll have plenty of time to get ready for the October test. And the fact that fall quarter classes won’t begin until late September means this exam won’t rub up against midterms or papers or anything like that.
Of course, those who are taking the October exam should make sure they have all their application materials ready to go before they receive their October scores in late October or early November. Otherwise, they may have to apply later in the cycle than they’d prefer.
November 14, 2020 (Saturday, 8:30 am) (disclosed test)
Registration Deadline: TBD
Now we’re at the LSATs “late” in the admissions cycle. If you’re taking these tests in anticipation of starting law school in 2021, then you won’t be able to apply early in the admissions cycle. Now, if these “late” tests are the only exams you can dedicate adequate study time to, that’s totally fine. We’ll refer back to the very first point we made — study time is the most important factor to consider when choosing an LSAT. Just make sure you’re getting your application materials together as you study for this test, so you can submit your applications as soon as you get your score back in early December.
In the last few years, this winter LSAT has been the most taken exam in the LSAT calendar year. So for the November test, test centers can fill up quickly, and test takers frequently get placed on the waitlist and sometimes assigned to test centers as many as 100 miles from their homes. The demand for the for the November exam, plus the fact that the LSAT switched to a digital format in September 2019, led to the November 2019 LSAT being a veritable disaster.
However, we’re cautiously optimistic that the November 2020 LSAT (and the rest of the 2020-21 LSATs, it should be said) will go a lot more smoothly. The January 2020 LSAT didn’t go perfectly for all test takers (frankly, and unfortunately, no LSAT does), but it went a helluva lot better than the November 2019 exam. And we’re hopeful that the test administrators will spend the year following the November 2019 exam recruiting and training new proctors who can ensure the exams will be held without a major hitch.
January 16, 2021 (Saturday, 8:30 am)
Registration Deadline: TBD
Another “late” LSAT. This one, at least, will allow students and workers alike to dedicate their holiday vacations to study time. As with October and November, make sure to assemble your applications as you study for this exam.
February 20, 2021 (Saturday, 8:30 am)
Registration Deadline: TBD
Now we’re in the “super late” portion of the 2020-21 application cycle. Some law schools won’t accept the February 2021 LSAT for 2021 matriculants; if you’re planning on taking this exam to attend law school in fall 2021, make sure the law schools you’re applying to will accept this exam. Alternatively, this test is in the “super early” portion of the 2021-22 application cycle. And any study time you dedicate to the February 2021 test will be done during the thick of winter, so you won’t be sacrificing any balmy summer days or crisp fall afternoons to the LSAT.
April 10, 2021 (Saturday, 8:30 am)
Registration Deadline: TBD
And we’re back to April. In 2021, however, the April LSAT will be positioned a little bit closer to most universities’ spring breaks, which can provide a helpful week of studying. It’s also a little bit further away from finals week, making those even less of a concern. Like the April 2020 exam, however, it’s too late in the year for those who want to begin law school in 2021 (although some law schools may still accept this exam — it never hurts to check).
—————
So, pre-lawyers, choose wisely, study up, and best of luck in 2020-21.
Which 2020-2021 LSAT Date Should You Choose? was originally published on Blueprint LSAT Blog
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A Chained Heart // Chapter Two
Fandom: Criminal Minds Words: 6, 487 Genre: Drama / Romance Pairing: Luke Alvez & Penelope Garcia Author's Note: ahhhh, the love for the first chapter is incredible! I am so happy to hear that people are loving this AU fanfic of mine! It seriously means alot for me! Here is the second chapter, I hope you all like it (:
Chapter Two: "Unexpected Seriousness" [link to FF]
Penelope stared at the laptop screen in front of her. It has been exactly two hours since she arrived to work and she has done nothing by run copies for people around the floor. Checking the time on her watch, there's another forty minutes until Derek arrives for work. Only a week has gone by since she started working in Delicate and the one thing she is mostly curious about is why Derek Morgan always starts work two and a half hours later than everybody else in the company. Penelope hasn't exactly made friends to ask questions. What she has collected so far about the people on this floor is the fact that there isn't no funny business. Most of the employees are either running their own meetings about certain projects and the others are rushing to the bakery side of the building to run some ideas with bakers. One of the most frustrating part of this secretary job is the fact that she has yet to set foot inside the bakery side of the building. For just a second, she would love to see the behind the scenes action of the huge bakery. It would be such a big learning experience for her. Her eyes glanced away from the laptop screen once she heard the echoing sound of Lynda's high heels on the floorboard.
From what she understood from the guidebook that was given to her, Delicate Bakery & Co has exactly twenty-two floors. Each floor has one main assistant and a team leader for each department. Located in the first floor is the reception area. The second to third floor belongs solely to the bakery. The fourth to sixth floor is the Marketing Department with Team Leader Tara Lewis and her own assistant. The seventh to ninth floor is the Human Resources Department with team Leader Stephen Walker and his own assistant. It goes on and on with the same kind of pattern with the exception for the 20th floor to the 22nd floor. For those three floors, it belongs to three different team leaders that take charge of the bakery decision for the company. Spencer Reid's office is located on the 20th, Jennifer Jareau's office is located on the 21st and the 22nd's floor which is considered as the top floor - belongs to Derek Morgan and the CEO, Luke Alvez. With what she can gather from her short time here so far, the 22nd floor is the floor employees avoid the most. Unless it's really needed, no one dares to push the button for this floor in the elevator. Penelope blinked her eyes as soon as she heard the elevators open. Thinking that it was Derek, Penelope stood up to greet him but she paused once she saw Luke Alvez exiting out of the elevator. He slightly paused his steps as soon as he noticed Penelope but quickly ignored her as he walked toward his office. And the sole reason behind the fear and avoidance by people for this exact floor is due to Luke Alvez. Surprisingly, not much people like him and it's as if he knows it too and just doesn't care.
"Penelope," Jennifer Jareau walked over with a folder in her hand as she looked at her. "When Team Leader Derek Morgan comes in for work, hand this folder for him. Tell him it's the new updated details I have for our spring season project."
Penelope nodded her head. "Yes, Ma'am."
Jennifer arched an eyebrow at her. "Don't call me that. Jennifer is fine." Without another word, she turned around and headed toward the stairs. After staring at Jennifer for a week, Penelope has learned that she doesn't like using the elevator. Besides being a world champion baker with tons of gold medal, she is also a fitness maniac. If there is a way for her to input some fitness into her work hours, she'll take it.
The elevator doors opened just in time with Derek Morgan exiting with sunglasses still on. "Uh, this is from Team Leader Jennifer Jareau. She said it's about the spring season project."
Derek took the folder out of her hands and briefly smiled. "I'll be in my office. If I need anything, I'll just call you up."
"So," Penelope knit her eyebrows. "There's nothing for me to do? Again?" She doesn't get it. Does he doesn't trust her with some of his work? All she has been doing is running copies or read through the pages for the guidebook. Anything involving the actual person that she has to help, there is nothing.
Noticing the kind of tone she was using, Derek chuckled as he crossed his arms and leaned against his office door. "You're upset."
"What?" Penelope cleared her throat. "Why would I be upset toward a team leader?"
Derek lets out a small laugh before he opened the door and indicated his hand for Penelope to follow him inside. As soon as he was settled in his seat, he pointed toward the chair across from him for her to sit. "Here's the thing about me that you have to understand, Penelope. Unless there is something that I truly need help on, I don't call anyone for guidance. In the kind of situation and project I have going on that's under the watchful eyes of CEO Alvez, I am under a lot of pressure. With the kind of pressure I am facing, I like to be alone and diligent in my own work."
"You're working with Team Leader Jennifer." Penelope pointed out.
He arched an eyebrow. "She has been my partner for the last two years in this company. I feel comfortable around her when I work on things." He folded his hands onto the desk and smiled. "It has nothing to do with you or the mere fact that I don't trust you. The position you work as for this company as we speak is secretary. You're not my assistant. I know you've noticed that every team leader has one with the exception of me. The reasoning behind that is due to the fact again, I like being alone." He turned to his laptop screen, quickly typing in the password. "I read your resume."
Penelope blinked in surprise. "You did?"
"For a twenty-seven year old, your resume seems a bit lacking." Derek straightforwardly said.
"Ah," Penelope shut her eyes for a brief second. She knew it would come back and bit her in the butt for being so lacking. "The situation is that - "
Derek chuckled. "I don't need you to share your life story with me, Penelope." Opening the second drawer to his left, he took out her resume. "The one information I noticed here is that you actually attended and graduated Seamless Bakery School with high honors." She briefly smiled and nodded her head as a response. "And if I am reading this correctly, the position you actually applied for here is an intern. I'm sure Lynda already explained how the internship works in this company but why is a twenty-seven year old working as an intern when she graduated six years ago?"
"I had a late start on things after I graduated." Penelope explained. She clenched her hands together, practically feeling her nails digging into her skin. "It's better late than never, right?"
He nodded his head as he placed the resume back inside the drawer. "I was going to ignore what happened last week on your first day of work because it may be extremely uncomfortable for you. But if I want a better understand with my secretary, I have to at least know a bit." From his office windows, he watched as Lynda and Luke walked past and entering the elevators. "Luke Alvez also graduated from the same school in the same year."
"Oh." Penelope simply said.
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the both of you know each other," Derek stated. "And I'm going to test my luck again and say that the history that you both have aren't exactly considered as memorable or good." Penelope didn't know what to say. She doesn't want the fact that she had a relationship with the CEO of the company to affect how people look at her.
"Team Leader, if I can overstep - "
Derek smiled. "Look, like I said, it's not that I don't trust you or anything. I just really don't have work right now that could have your help. The only thing I can say is if I have clients calling me or people looking for me, I only ask for you to inform them that I am busy working on the spring season project." He shrugged his shoulders as he opened the folder that Jennifer gave him. "I can understand where you're coming from. Working in a position that you don't know about when your talent belongs elsewhere is hard. The baker inside of you is screaming out, demanding to actually work with your hands and create things that can bring joy to someone else's life. Trust me when I say, I've been there." Derek skimmed through the pages as he spoke to her. "Just have patience and your day will come." He looked at her one last time before going back to the folder. "Sometimes in a company like this, doing nothing is definitely better."
Penelope nodded her head. "Thanks."
. . .
Luke crossed his arms as he watched the bakers discuss over the specials for the new week. He extremely hate Mondays for purely this reason. It's as if no one has their mind ready for this day. Adverting his attention over to the display cases, he scanned through all the bakery goods that were there. "Where are the cream puffs?"
Jennifer tied her hair into a ponytail as she answered. "We didn't have time this morning to make them."
"I'm sorry," Luke said. "You didn't have time to make them?"
"The thing is," Grant Anderson, one of the bakers for Delicate, cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "We were busy taking in orders for one of our regular customers. They have placed an order for over 450 macaroons by tomorrow afternoon. We were busy making the batter for the order and lost track of time."
Luke looked at all of the bakers. "So basically, none of you assigned the cream puffs to one person? You just thought that maybe today we can go forward without the cream puffs on display?" He adverted his attention over to Jennifer. "I expected something as forgetful as this from basic people but you? Team Leader Jennifer, I expect more from you."
Jennifer had to keep herself from rolling her eyes as she put on her baker uniform on. "I was a bit busy focusing on the spring season project this morning. I didn't know about the cream puffs until briefly." She glanced over at the other bakers, who had sullen expressions on their faces. "I don't think keeping themselves in order to make a customer's orders that wrong. Would you rather go on a day without cream puffs or lose a valuable customers that gives us bigger profits?"
Lynda, who always stands in the back, widened her eyes by the sudden remark by Jennifer. Besides Derek, no one else in this company ever dares to speak back to Luke. Is Jennifer on drugs this morning or what? "Sir, we have a conference call with London in five minutes."
"What about the macaroons? Have you finished making them?" Luke questioned.
"No," Grant replied. "We put it on hold since today is going to be busy with the event that we're being assigned with Team Leader Jennifer."
Jennifer checked the time on the clock. "As you know, there is a wedding event that the bakers and I have to attend to." She stared at Luke and briefly smiled. "Mayor Strauss's wedding, your good friend."
Luke sighed. "Go on." Without another word, he walked out of the kitchen and halted his steps at the bakery, staring at all the customers who were waiting in line for their orders. "Tell Team Leader Tara Lewis that I want the monthly rate for this month."
Writing it on her notes, Lynda nodded her head. "Yes, Sir." She followed Luke into the elevators and leaned against the wall as the elevator continues to go up. Deciding to test his patience, she leaned over and looked at him. "The cream puffs, what do you want me to do about it?"
"What do you mean?" He furrowed his eyebrows together as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you bake?"
"No..."
"Then what the heck are you able to do about the cream puffs?" Luke turned his attention back toward the elevator doors as it opened. Stepping out, he lets out a scoff. "Don't ask such a useless question like that ever again."
Lynda halted her steps and let him walk into his office on his own. As soon as the coast was clear, she kicked her legs up in the air as she imagined kicking his butt in her mind. "You don't have to be a jerk about it!" Turning around, she looked at Penelope. "I hate my job."
Penelope could only show a small smile. "What was that about?"
"Let's just say that Mondays aren't exactly CEO Alvez's favorite kind of day." Lynda sighed. "You know what's funny? For the four years since the grand opening of Delicate, I haven't seen him lay a single hand in the kitchen. He keeps complaining about the bakers downstairs when they don't do their job properly but what about him? Does he even know how to bake? How is he even the CEO when I haven't seen him do anything besides scold employees for three years."
"I wouldn't know those answers since it's only been a week since I started working here." Penelope answered. "I don't even know him."
Lynda sighed. "You're lucky."
Penelope watched in silence as Lynda headed toward the break room to probably make Luke's coffee. The question from earlier is now constantly ringing in her head. Does he even know how to bake? She stared blankly at the laptop screen as a memory came rushing back.
Luke's Apartment, 8 and a half years ago.
"Add in the two eggs to the mixture and stir," Penelope instructed him. "Make sure you don't get any egg shells in it."
Luke looked at her. "You act as if I don't know how to crack an egg." He wiggled his eyebrows as he took out an egg from the fridge but halted his steps when one of the eggs dropped onto the floor. "Alright, that's my bad."
Penelope laughed. "You have to focus when you bake, Luke."
"I am!" Luke said. "Your beauty is just too dazzling that I am getting clumsy. You made me drop an egg!"
She made a disgusted face at the flattery before she slapped his arm playfully. "Stop it. How are you going to pass the baking exam if you can't bake a simple white cake." She walked over to the fridge to grab another egg. "Come on, you have to focus in order for this cake to be perfected." Penelope glared at him.
"We're not going to sleep until you make the perfect white cake."
Luke arched an eyebrow. "So, you're staying for the night?"
Penelope slapped him on the arm again. "No." She cracked one of the eggs and added it into the mixture. "I have my own exam to worry about. Unlike you, I have two written exams and an actual baking exam to do. You only have to bake a white cake and you'll pass third year in baking school. I have to bake macaroons and - "
He sighed. "You're right," Unlike his other peers, the fact that he only has to bake a white cake to pass third year is a bit weird. Maybe it's due to the fact that he was supposed to have that done by second year. Or is it a trick? What if as soon as he passes this baking exam, every single thing that he missed about other baking techniques and bakery goods will bombard him next year? Does that mean he has to work extra hard since he has more things to study up and test on? "Staying back another year really is doing damages to me."
Penelope smiled. "At least you're learning and improving now."
Luke cracked the other egg and started mixing it when he noticed an small piece of egg shell in the bowl. "Damn it."
"Here, use a spoon and - " Penelope's eyes widened when Luke started searching for the egg shell with his hand. "Luke!" She was too shock to even speak. Instead, she started laughing hysterically at how cute Luke was being. The focus and attention in his eyes that he has for the egg shell is something she has never seen from him. "Why are you being so serious about the egg shell?!"
Blinking his eyes as he successfully took out the egg shell, he turned and looked at Penelope. "You said that I won't be able to sleep until I get it perfectly done!"
"Yeah but," Penelope clenched onto her stomach once it started hurting because she is laughing too hard. "I've never seen you so serious in my life!"
“You've only known me for two months." Luke corrected her as he concentrated on mixing the bowl. "And I can be serious and mean when I want to be, Penelope"
Penelope stopped laughing and silently rolled her eyes. "Luke Alvez, you're the most happiest and positive person I know." She leaned against the kitchen counter. "As behind as you are in baking, I think everybody in the school can agree that you're the one that makes them laugh the most. You have this aura around you, Luke. People can't help but love having you around them."
Luke stopped mixing and stared at her. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you love having me around?" Luke carefully repeated himself. Since the day they met each other in the hallways, they were inseparable. For two months, Penelope has been teaching him everything that he missed, letting him gain confidence in his own baking. There wasn't a single day where they were apart for some reason. "Never mind, don't answer that." Luke adverted his attention over to the mixture and cleared his throat. "So, what do I do now?"
Penelope scratched the back of her neck out of awkwardness. "Uh, take out the tins and pour the mixture inside. The oven has already been preheated so once you finished pouring, just put it in the oven."
After doing what Penelope instructed, Luke backed away from the oven and leaned against the wall. "So," checking the time on his watch, he exhaled deeply. "You can leave since you have a long night ahead for you. I mean, if the cake doesn't end up being edible, I'll just redo everything until I do it right."
"Are you sure?" Luke nodded his head and handed her the car keys and her jacket. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then."
Luke smiled. "Of course. Let me walk you out the door."
Penelope followed behind him. As the front door opened, she stepped out and turned around. "Have confidence in yourself. I know I laughed about it but it's not a bad thing to be serious sometimes. As happy as you are, I know you'll be happier once you graduate from baking school with the rest of us. You taught me to be happy and pause to have a laugh, I'm just returning the favor with this advance."
He chuckled as he held onto the doorknob. "You're right."
"Alright," she slowly puts on her jacket and waved goodbye. "Bye."
Luke watched as she started walking away. He clenched onto the doorknob even tighter as she becomes further away from him. Taking a deep breath, he is just going to go for it. "Penelope!"
She turned around and looked at him. "Yeah?"
"I have something to say," walking out of his apartment, he slowly paced himself towards her. "There's something that I've been meaning to tell you. I've been on the edge lately because of it." Luke looked into her eyes, it was one of the first things he noticed about her from that day in the hallways - they're so beautiful. "Penelope, I - " his eyes widened from surprise when Penelope leaned forward and softly kissed him.
Present Time
"Penelope," Derek leaned against the doorway from his office as he held out the folder in his hand. "Jennifer is leaving in ten minutes. I need you to show her the new updated information I have before she goes. I need to know what she thinks so I can get started on the project."
"Okay, do you know where she is?" Penelope asked as she stood up. Derek checked the time on his watch. "Now? She should be in the kitchen downstairs where the bakery is." As soon as Penelope took the folder, he smiled. "Don't say that I never gave you work."
Penelope softly smiled at his comment. "I'll be back." Walking toward the elevator, she quickly got in and pressed the first floor button. That's when the realization hit her. She's about to actually enter the kitchen of the bakery. An even bigger smile plastered on her face as she did a little dance in the elevator. She has always imagined at how big the kitchen would be for a huge company like Delicate. Are there over 20-30 bakers in one kitchen? If the bakery is really connected to three floors, does that mean there's a kitchen on each floor? Once the elevator opened, she rushed out because the curiosity is seriously killing her. Pacing herself so she doesn't look like a crazy woman, she walked into the bakery and straight toward the kitchen. "Ma'am - " she paused and remembered what Jennifer had said earlier. "Jennifer..."
Jennifer carefully took off her baker uniform and stared at Penelope. "What are you doing in here?"
"Derek wanted you to take a look at the updated information before he starts on the project." Penelope handed over the folder and quickly scanned the kitchen. She's in complete awe. This kitchen is as huge as a garden. It's almost too ridiculous to be true. The utensils, the tables, the ingredients - they're all so clean and shiny. She was about to touch the closest thing near her when Jennifer handed back the folder. "You're done looking over it?"
"Tell him that he needs to make that cake before Luke starts asking about it." Jennifer quickly puts on her jacket. "I have a wedding to take care of. See you around, Penelope."
Penelope watched as Jennifer and two other bakers walk out of the kitchen. She counted to one minute in her head before she start running around the kitchen. "Oh my God," she couldn't believe that she's actually inside a Delicate kitchen. "State of the art oven." She muttered to herself happily. Noticing a piece of paper on the middle of the gigantic table, she knows that she shouldn't look at it but one peek wouldn't hurt.
450 macaroons orders for Lillian's Bridal Shower. Batter is all set but will start making them tonight when we come back.
"450?!" Penelope gasped in shock. "How are they only going to start tonight? An order like this takes half a day."
"What are you doing in here?" Penelope jumped in surprise as she made eye contact with Luke. "I said, what are you doing in here?"
Penelope cleared her throat. "Derek wanted Jennifer to check on some information for the spring season project and I was here because she needed to check it off before he starts - "
"I don't see team leader Jennifer Jareau in here." Luke pointed out.
"That's because she just left and - "
Luke opened the kitchen door and sighed. "If she isn't here anymore, you shouldn't either."
Penelope doesn't even want to talk to him any longer. As she walked out of the kitchen, the door swiftly closed behind her. Leaving her speechless at how rude he has become, she rolled her eyes. "Six years does change people." Taking a look at her watch, she halted her steps and glanced back toward the kitchen. "It's only the afternoon, why would he be in the kitchen?"
. . .
Derek smirked at the little note that Jennifer had written for him inside the folder. "Thanks, Penelope."
Penelope nodded her head and watched as he started walking out of his office. Taking it as he is going to go off and do the project, she settled in her seat and sighed. "Wow, Penelope. You've been here for four hours now and you managed to complete two errands." She groaned to herself as she tapped her fingers on the desk. "Only five more hours to go."
. . .
"I told you that it would work," Derek said through the phone as he cleaned up the mess he made in the break room. "Jennifer, I just spent six hours in a break room, testing out flavors. It's going to work, trust me."
Jennifer yawned as she put the keys through the hole. "It better work. Hey, the wedding was pretty cute."
"A wedding is a wedding." Derek said as he cleaned his hands in the sink. Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Why do men think like that?"
"Why do women always want to spend tons of money toward one event?"
"A life changing event," Jennifer corrected him. Collapsing onto her couch, she yawned again. "It's late. Why are you still there anyways?"
Derek walked out of the break room and looked around through the darkness of the floor. "Do you honestly believe I want to be here this late? I lost track of time." He started walking past the secretary desk when he noticed Penelope there, asleep. "JJ, I'll call you back." Hanging up the phone, he furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion as he leaned forward to get a closer look of her. With his arm propped on the desk, he carefully look at her face. A smile spread across his face when he noticed the little post it note near her hand. Taking it off, he silently chuckled at what it said.
Sleep for only thirty minutes. Wake up and ask around if anyone needs copies. And ease on the staring at Derek, you wouldn't want him to think you're crazy. Also, try and sneak back into the kitchen and gather some baking inspiration from the aura inside there.
"You're one interesting woman, Penelope Garcia." Derek said softly before placing the post it note back where it originally was. Walking into his office, he grabbed his jacket and car keys before walking back over to the secretary desk. "Penelope."
Opening her eyes to the sound of her name, Penelope sat up in her seat and blinked her eyes in confusion to find herself surrounded in darkness. "Why is it so dark?"
Derek laughed. "Maybe it's because it's past nine."
"What?!" Penelope checked her phone to see a missing call from Jensen's daycare. "Oh God!"
"Do you have to rush somewhere?"
Penelope quickly grabbed her own jacket and car keys. "I have to pick up my - " she paused and looked at him. What's the point? Someone's bound to find out sooner enough. "My son. The good thing is that I already worked out the hours with the daycare and I'm not going to be too late to pick him up."
"Son?" Derek didn't expect that. "How old is he?"
"Six." Penelope smiled as they both entered the elevator. "Does everybody usually leave work at nine?" She stared at the buttons from 1-22. "Like the whole building?"
Derek nodded his head. "Yeah. I usually leave at eight but I lost track of time."
He glanced at her and chuckled. "You obviously also lost track of time."
Penelope cleared her throat. "Sorry. My son had a nightmare last night so I barely got any sleep. I won't do it again, I promise."
"Don't worry about it. I'm not the one that signs your paycheck, I could careless."
Derek laughed as he walked out the elevator. "Unless it's when you're doing something for me like a project," he halted his steps and looked at her. "Such as the current spring season project."
She smiled. "You're saying as if you're letting me," Penelope gasped and covered her mouth in shock. "Really?! You're going to let me work on the project with you?!"
"Well, as long as you don't let Luke find out, you can work on it with me and Jennifer." Luke adverted his attention over to the bakery in confusion. There were lights coming from the kitchen but the door was closed. "That's odd. Jennifer said that her and the other bakers were too tired to come back here and work on this order they got this morning."
"The order for 450 macaroons, right?" Penelope asked.
Derek nodded his head. "I was going to come in early tomorrow to help them out since it's a big order." He smirked as he zipped up his jacket and yawned. "Well, as long as I don't have to come in for work early, I don't care." Dangling his car keys from his hands, he smiled. "I'm going to head out first. See you tomorrow."
Penelope waved goodbye. She should leave too but again, this damn curiosity. Biting her lower lip, she carefully walked through the bakery and squinted her eyes though the door window to see who is inside. "What..." She knit her eyebrows and watch as Luke, who has flour all over him, was walking back and forth between the oven and the table. From what she can see with very little light that is inside, there were rows and rows of the macaroons over at the kitchen counters. Quietly, she continued watching as Luke balanced two new huge trays of fresh macaroons with his hands and onto the counters. As soon as he puts two different trays into the oven, he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. In one swift move, he took out little cute bags with ribbons attached to them out. Luke twirled his neck around for a few seconds, he must have a strain on his neck from all the constant baking. Penelope couldn't stop her mouth from opening, what is all of this? Has he been baking the macaroons since the moment she left the kitchen earlier in the afternoon? Just by staring at the batches of the macaroons that are done, there's at least only about 200 of them. He still has so much to do in such a short time span. She took one last peek just in time to see Luke adding a couple of macaroons into the cute little bags carefully.
Stepping away from the door and the bakery, Penelope stared aimlessly at the floor. "He end up learning and improving..." A small faint smile appeared on her face, something she didn't even notice as she walked out of the building.
. . .
"Good morning," Penelope greeted Jennifer by the door of the building. "You're here early."
Jennifer smiled. "I can say the same for you," she took a sip of her coffee. "You do realize that you don't have to come in as early like us. You're technically under the same hours as Derek since he comes into work two hours and a half later than the rest of us."
"I still think it's best if - " Penelope stopped talking when one of the bakers, she recognized to be Grant Anderson charges forward toward them.
"Grant, there's no need to run." Jennifer said. "We'll get the macaroons done in time. The people aren't picking it up until 2 and it's only," checking the time on her watch. "It's only 8."
Penelope arched an eyebrow at the timing that Jennifer thinks she has for the macaroons. Does she honestly think she would've gotten the order for 450 done in six hours?
"No." Grant said. "The macaroons are done!"
Jennifer looked at him as if he was crazy. "What are you talking about?" She started rushing over to the kitchen with Grant and Penelope following behind. "What the - " In front of them were rows of baskets with bagged macaroons inside. "Who did this?" She immediately looked at her junior baker. "Grant Anderson..."
Grant shook his head. "I wish I could say I did it." He picked up one of the bags and pointed at them. "Look at how perfect they are! You know that I still lack in that area of perfecting it."
She glanced over at the other bakers, who also were shaking their heads. "Well, whoever did it. Thank goodness."
Penelope heard the familiar sounds of Lynda's high heels again. She turned her head over to the doorway just in time to see Luke and Lynda walk in. "It's nice to see my employees come into work early."
"Did you give someone else permission to do the order of macaroons?" Jennifer asked him.
Luke glanced at the macaroons and the bakers. "No but I can see that they're all finished." He crossed his arms and looked at them. "Seeing as how it's done and the four of you did work hard for last night's wedding." He paused and shrugged his shoulders. "Take four hours off and come back to work afterwards. I want cream puffs to be out on display today."
"Wait, you're giving us a half day off?" Grant questioned to make sure.
“I can take it back if you want." Luke blankly said.
"No! We'll take it!" The other bakers screamed in happiness.
Jennifer narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sure you don't know who did this? Did you assign this order for someone?"
"No," Luke repeated. "I don't know who did this order but as long as it's done and you get a break that you haven't gotten in a while, should we really be complaining here?"
Penelope has been standing in silence, listening to their conversation, waiting for the moment that Luke would say that he was actually the one that did the whole order by himself. The fact that he didn't admit to anything has her really confused.
"I expect to see two rows of cream puffs on display by the afternoon." Luke glanced at the bakers and stared around the kitchen. He didn't say anything else before he turned around with Lynda following and walked out of the door.
Grant scoffed. "The break's not even a break. It takes an hour to make the mixture and cream for the puff and another hour for when it's in the oven." He rolled his eyes. "The one moment we expect him to be caring, it's a joke."
One of the bakers sighed as he took out a huge bowl out to start the cream for the cream puffs. "That man is nothing but someone who complains. He does nothing for this company either. The one who did this order for us should be head of the company."
Penelope almost opened her mouth to correct the baker's words but she closed it. What's even the point? She doesn't feel it's necessary to share something good of what Luke did nor does she see a point in correcting somebody else's opinion. She quietly dismissed herself from the kitchen and head toward the elevators. She came just in time to share the same one with Luke and Lynda, sadly. Clearing her throat, she leaned against the back of the wall and watched as the numbers for the floors slowly go up.
"Sir, are you tired?" Lynda asked. Penelope glanced over to see Luke is leaning his head against the wall with his eyes closed and arms crossed. "Did you stay up to look over the new upcoming projects again?"
"You can say that," Luke silently said. "What time is our phone conference with Italy?"
Lynda checked her tablet. "In an hour."
"Bring me all the detailed documents we have on their company and a cup of coffee into my office. I want to study on their foundation before the meeting starts." The sound of the elevators arriving to the 22nd floor immediately made him to stand up straight before walking out.
Penelope stepped out and silently watched as Luke entered his office. "So, that's how you look like when you're being serious...." Taking a deep breath, she settled into her seat and folded her arms as she stared at the time. Another beginning to what seems like another repetitive day for her.
. . .
Luke loudly yawned as soon as he was alone in the office. Collapsing in his seat, he placed his head onto the desk for a brief nap. This is the single moment that he wants Lynda to be late on the coffee and document. Finishing the order of macaroons around one in the morning and driving back home takes close to 45 minutes, he barely got any sleep in. This is the moment that needs, just peace and - he abruptly sat up as soon as he heard knocking on his door. "Come in."
Lynda showed up with his coffee in one hand and the stack of documents on the other. "Here is what you told me get." She stepped back and watched as he sipped the coffee and started getting into business as he opened the documents.
"You can leave now." From the corner of his eyes, he could see her nodding her head before walking out of the office. Luke stretched his arms and legs out for a few minutes and quickly returned back to work.
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wisteriadaisies · 7 years
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therapy 3/16/17
had a very good session today! and i am here to talk about it😄
highlights:
-first we talked about my wisdom teeth surgery! how i survived and whatever. she asked me about how i was after our last appointment (as that was the day before i got my wisdom teeth out), which my anxiety was pretty high and so i took two ativans and that helped! and i told her how my surgery went and whatever and how the next few days went.
-i had NO anxiety and depression from after my surgery until sunday. in a comfortable bubble for a while. then monday happened and i was like, “okay, you can’t use this as a crutch anymore” and i then overwhelmed myself a lot. and with it also being spring break, i just felt really out of whack. she understood all of this, saying i was out of my norm. and then we talked more about this but honestly i don’t remember what the fuck else about this topic
-we talked a little about me applying for a summer scholarship and for the four year college i plan on attending, and scholarships in general. she asked me to tell her the pros and cons of applying now. really the pros are getting access to the specific advisor, signing up for spring classes early, and i guess getting it over with? i just HATE applying for things and like what if i won’t get in and she’s like you will get in!!!(she’s right i will i have a 3.075 I’ll get in just anxiety messing with me) and i said why would anyone want to get me money when they are people who do all of these things and activities??? she told me that there are scholarships for everyone, and told me this site that she recommended before. i said that the only ones that related to me were mental illness ones. and she’s like ???so?? you would still be getting money! but my issue was how i have nothing else but she said that i DO have other things, hobbies that i enjoy (and even though i don’t tell her about them she was right….SHE IS ALWAYS RIGHT GUYS)
-i mentioned how i’m turning 20 next week and she was like ahhhh tuesday is the day!!! and i was like 😵 and so that began our in depth discussion on birthdays. how they are so fucking weird. i really shouldn’t go on a tangent about this….bc it’s basically pointless. i feel like we got kind of philosophical about birthdays and such😅bbut she reminded me that the day is supposed to be celebrating your life. and to me…..that’s hard to handle(which she knows) and i said well it’s a good thing i share my birthday with my twin so i can focus on celebrating him instead of me
-andddddd that started a whole other topic with my issue of trying to love myself. i voiced how i worry that i will never get there. she said instead of thinking of the big picture, think of it in small ways to love myself. just treating myself with kindness and such. and just continue to let myself grow, that loving myself is a process that won’t happen overnight.
-and at some point of our session we discussed my need to always compare myself to others. and since i feel like that is always talked about idk what to say(lol my bad) but this kind of parted with me telling her that i wanted to do well to make other people proud, to not disappoint. and she said “well what about yourself? what about making yourself proud? that’s the most important thing” and again, it made me realize another part of me that doesn’t put myself first
-my mom wanted me to talk to amy about how i don’t dance in front of her(my mom) and she wants me to let loose. basically amy just said well that will come with time. obvi bc it’s not that big of an issue(her words) but it could benefit me as well!
-one of the last things we talked about was how i make “lists” sometimes but it’s very infrequent and also i feel rushed 24/7, that i will never get anything done BUT ironically, i don’t even do anything!!! i have so much time!!! SO MUCH!!! anyWAYS i said that i would have exact times for my list but then i would worry if i would need more time and then mess my schedule all up etc etc. And that i do better with lists when other people make them for me, as i now have other people’s expectations. i joked that i needed a bootcamp…..she took me seriously. said that she is going to do a “behavioral bootcamp” for me next week😂😂and have stuff for me to do lol. anyways, i’m going to ask my mom what she wants me to do and write it down AS SHE IS TELLING ME!
-idk how we got on the topic but i ended up talking about the past some and brought up the fact that before i used to have freak outs every month my senior year (and prior to that year as well) and my mom would always go “i’m signing you up to see a counselor!!!!!” But i refused and we never followed through(she thought it was amusing) and how when i think about that time, i was very scared about college and leaving high school. and back then if i would imagine life two years from then, i would have imagined like hell, fire and pitchforks. but i’m doing relatively fine now. i’m in college, getting okay grades. mental illness still sucks ass but i’m still here! living! not in hell! and i awkwardly was trying to give myself credit but at the same time not giving myself credit bc i HATE being nice to myself but my therapist was like…….you are doing so many things right now that you couldn’t before. you have been through so many stressful situations. you didn’t think you could make it, but you are still here. Thx amy OH I REMEMBER NOW we got onto this topic because we were talking about how hard it has been these past couple of months because of my fucking mind and how i am constantly questioning and challenging and overthinking!!!! but i am not as reacting outwardly as much as the past(cue me talking about the past)
-oh she also asked me what i have planned the next three-ish days before i go back to school. i said i don’t really want to think about it bc it overwhelms me and i put pressure on myself. but i mentioned homework and how i have an ecology test on monday and im nervous about it. she asked me if i’ve studied and i said…….sort of? and then she asked me HOW i study and i was like….idk (studying and i have a complicated relationship) and i said i look at stuff but i just have these expectations of myself when it comes to studying. like other people take hours out of their day to dedicate themselves to ONE class (at this point she was like kayla!!! those!!! are!!! other!! people!!! you are different from them!) and then i said maybe i should study only like 15-20 minutes a day to take pressure off of myself and she thought it was great idea and that i should do it when i get home and guess what i did BOOM
oh also i said my eating has been eh(wisdom teeth influence) and getting to sleep has been harder bc racing overwhelming thoughts and she was like.....that's when you take an ativan. point of reference 4 me
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College
I attended my first college class of spring semester 2017 today.  I'm a senior, hopefully graduating with a four-year degree in May.  Since I'm almost done, I thought I'd do a post on my college experiences.
Not including the year I took off for health reasons, this is my fifth year of college.  I started out thinking I was going to get a degree in the social sciences.  I tried psychology, then cultural anthropology.  I found out I didn't really want to do either of them, so I switched to something I've always really loved.  English with a Creative Writing emphasis.  I knew I needed to do something with that - I couldn't just get a high paying job with a simple English degree - so I took out a second area of study: Marketing.  Marketing has a lot to do with both psychology and creativity, so I knew it would be perfect for me.
There, I found my true calling.  My undergraduate degree will be in Creative Writing and Marketing.  I love both subjects - English is all about reading and critical thinking, Creative Writing has been brutal but inspiring and helpful toward my writing skills, and Marketing involves lots of yucky technical terminology but also a great deal of psychology and creativity - plenty of room to maneuver.  It's also not terribly mathematical, which is nice because math is my one bad subject.  (An eight year old could probably do math better than me, and I'm only sort of kidding.)
From there, I hope to go into advertising, promotion, social media, and business writing.  My internship was a business writing job for an environmental organization.  I also hope to professionally publish my own original short stories and poems - the stuff I've never posted online - starting in magazines and periodicals, and since I'm taking music classes, I also hope to eventually go with my guitar to some open mic nights in a big city and see where that leads me.
So I have lots of different plans.  I'm going to try staying with my family, who do live near a big city, mostly for health related reasons.  (I need to have someone on hand in case I have a health emergency, and I also need someone around as an emotional support system.)
I did not get into the college I originally planned on, and guess what?  I survived.  I ended up going to a different college, then switching from there to yet another college.  I actually think the diversity and failure helped me become a more well rounded person.  I also got my first really bad mark in college, and I survived that.  College taught me how to fail - reminded me that a single failure is not the end of the world, and there can be benefits to going down an unexpected path.
My first official school interview was for college, and my first official job interview was during college.  (I did have a job in high school, but it was a volunteer job and they hired me based on my ability and willingness to do the work involved - there was no formal interview.)  The job interview was for my internship.  Looking for and being interviewed for a job - or even applying for a college - for the first time is extraordinarily nerve wracking, and the waiting period is hell, but it was a good learning experience.  I'm not as terrified of finding a job after college as I used to be, and switching schools was less terrifying than asking to first be admitted to one.  I'm also more confident in my ability to talk to a boss and fellow employees, and to master the details of a new assignment, class, or job.  Even if I end up getting a lower level job or having to go back to school, I know that somehow, I'll manage.  I'm more secure in myself than I used to be.
College taught me a great deal of independence.  I first went to school out of state, and then switched to a whole different state.  I lived in the dorms with a roommate, then in an apartment with a roommate.  College was when I began dating.  College was when I first experienced a major health emergency.  College was when I had my first drink, my first kiss, my first breakup - my first a lot of things.  It's when I first drank coffee, first became interested in politics and the news.  I learned how to maneuver a town or city on my own in college, how to independently take a transit system, and how to shop for and purchase stuff on my own.  I learned more about what I wanted and didn't want in life.  I became better at standing up for and believing in myself.  I had lots of bumps and bruises, twists and turns along the way.  But I came out on the other end happier and stronger for it.
In fact, I would recommend something totally unpopular.  Go to college really far away from home.  Don't live with a significant other.  Don't even have a significant other.  For at least a few months.  Because you have to know.  You have to know that you can survive alone, or else you'll spend the rest of your life being absolutely terrified of being alone.
I think college taught me a lot in the classroom, too.  Among the life and job skills I learned: preparing adequately for an assignment on a deadline, putting together and giving a presentation, coming up with a project idea, reading a book quickly by skimming over words, writing coherently, speaking in public or at a meeting, working with groups, mastering a new subject or skill quickly, and critically examining the words, work, or expectations of someone else in order to better assist them.  I think a lot of the skills I learned would be useful even in a lower level job.
Also I learned how to bullshit people into thinking you know what you're doing.  Like it or not, that's another important life skill.
So if you're thinking about going to college, but aren't sure if you should - or if you want to go to college, but the idea terrifies you - just know it's not as bad as you think.  You'll learn a lot, and despite the difficulties, I highly recommend it as an experience.
A few tips:
Attend class.  Always.
Raise your hand to participate as often as possible.
Don't try to do all the reading right before the test.
If you try to absorb every single word and detail of an assigned reading, you won't survive upper division courses.  Learn to skim.
Plan out an essay before you start writing it.
Sleep, food, and doctor's visits are important.  College will become meaningless if you keel over and die halfway through it.
Failure is healthy and important.  You have to learn how to deal with failure before going out into the working world as an adult.
One class, assignment, or grade is not the end of the world.  Don't get into the habit of thinking that it is.
You're usually better prepared than you think you are.
Most college professors are not as terrifying as you might expect.
If you think a professor is acting inappropriately, contact the Dean of Students.  I did once.  You can ask to remain completely anonymous.
Roommate situations can suck.  Not every roommate is going to end up your undying best friend.  However - this coming from someone who was emotionally abused by a couple of her dormitory roommates - if you think a situation is unhealthy for you, get out of it.  Immediately.  Don't let anyone talk you out of leaving.
Sometimes roommates take the emotional baggage from a previous bad roommate experience into their next room.  Don't be that person, but look out for that person.
Try to be easygoing with your fellow roommates.  Don't hate on them too much, but genuinely listen to someone if they have a problem.  Most college roommates don't have much experience sharing a space with someone their age, so be respectful of that.  Don't walk around naked, keep relatively clean, and don't touch their stuff without asking.  Three easy rules, right there.  Be especially respectful in someone else's room.
Don't judge your roommate's lifestyle choices.  Unless they're interfering with your lifestyle - and I can't emphasize this enough - it's none of your goddamn business.  There's a difference between being vocal if you have a problem, and being rude or judgmental.  An important difference.
On that note, sometimes they're going to be in the room at the same time as you or stay up later than you.  Maybe most of the time, in some cases.  As long as they're quiet when you're studying, they keep to their space, and they agree to the lights being off when you go to bed, you don't really have any room to complain.  That's what sharing a room can be like.
Despite all mythology, taking a year off from school does not mean you'll never go back to school.  I took a year off, and look at me.  After this semester, I'll be finished with all my undergraduate coursework.
That's all the thoughts I can think of related to college.  I'll be glad if this helped someone in any way.  I think college is an incredibly difficult but worthwhile experience.  It can really help you get to know yourself.
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dorcasrempel · 4 years
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At halfway point, SuperUROP scholars share their research results
MIT undergraduates are rolling up their sleeves to address major problems in the world, conducting research on topics ranging from nursing care to money laundering to the spread of misinformation about climate change — work highlighted at the most recent SuperUROP Showcase.
The event, which took place on the Charles M. Vest Student Street in the Stata Center in December 2019, marked the halfway point in the Advanced Undergraduate Research Opportunities Program (better known as “SuperUROP”). The yearlong program gives MIT students firsthand experience in conducting research with close faculty mentorship. Many participants receive scholar titles recognizing the program’s industry sponsors, individual donors, and other contributors.
This year, 102 students participated in SuperUROP, with many of their projects focused on applying computer science technologies, such as machine learning, to challenges in fields ranging from robotics to health care. Almost all presented posters of their work at the December showcase, explaining research to fellow students, faculty members, alumni, sponsors, and other guests.
“Every year, this program gets more and more impressive,” says Anantha P. Chandrakasan, dean of the School of Engineering and Vannevar Bush Professor of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science. “What’s especially noteworthy is the incredible breadth of projects and how articulate students are in talking about their work. Their presentation skills seem pretty remarkable.”
SuperUROP, administered by the Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science (EECS), includes a two-term course, 6.UAR (Undergraduate Advanced Research), designed to teach students research skills, including how to design an experiment and communicate results.
“What’s different about SuperUROP [compared to other research opportunities offered to undergraduates] is the companion class that guides you through the necessary writing and speaking,” says Anis Ehsani, a senior majoring in EECS and mathematics, whose project centered on the geometry of drawing political districts. “If I want to pursue a research career, it’s nice to have those skills,” adds Ehsani, an MIT EECS/Nutanix SuperUROP scholar.
Beyond the lab and classroom
Participants present their work at showcases in the fall and spring, and they are expected to produce prototypes or publication-worthy results by the end of the year.
“All these presentations help keep us on track with our projects,” says Weitung Chen, an EECS junior whose project focuses on automating excavation for mining applications. He explains that the inspiration for his SuperUROP work was a real-world problem he faced when trying to build a startup in automated food preparation. Scooping tofu, it turns out, is surprisingly difficult to automate. At the showcase, Chen — an MIT EECS/Angle SuperUROP scholar — explained that he is trying to create a simulation than can be used to train machines to scoop materials autonomously. “I feel really accomplished having this poster and presentation,” he said.
Launched by EECS in 2012, SuperUROP has expanded across the Institute over the past several years.
Adam Berinsky, the Mitsui Professor of Political Science, is working with SuperUROP students for the first time this year, an experience he’s enjoying. “What’s really cool is being able to give undergraduates firsthand experience in real research,” he says. He’s been able to tap students for the computer science skills he needs for his work, while providing them with a deep dive into the social sciences.
Madeline Abrahams, an MIT/Tang Family FinTech SuperUROP scholar, says she especially appreciates the program’s flexibility: “I could explore my interdisciplinary interests,” she says. A computer science and engineering major who is also passionate about political science, Abrahams is working with Berinsky to investigate the spread of misinformation related to climate change via algorithmic aggregation platforms.
Nicholas Bonaker also enjoyed the freedom of pursuing his SuperUROP project. “I’ve been able to take the research in the direction I want,” says Bonaker, a junior in EECS, who has developed a new algorithm he hopes will improve an assistive technology developed by his advisor, EECS Associate Professor Tamara Broderick.
Exploring new directions in health care
Bonaker said he particularly values the health-care focus of his project, which centers on creating better communications software for people living with severe motor impairments. “It feels like I’m doing something that can help people — using things I learned in class,” says Bonaker. He is among this year’s MIT EECS/CS+HASS SuperUROP scholars, whose projects combine computer science with the humanities, arts, or social sciences.  
Many of this year’s SuperUROP students are working on health-care applications. For example, Fatima Gunter-Rahman, a junior in EECS and biology, is examining Alzheimer’s data, and Sabrina Liu, an EECS junior and MIT EECS/Takeda SUperUROP scholar, is investigating noninvasive ways to monitor the heartrates of dental patients. Justin Lim, a senior math major, is using data analytics to try to determine the optimal treatment for chronic diseases like diabetes. “I like the feeling that my work would have real-world impact,” says Lim, an MIT EECS/Hewlett Foundation SuperUROP scholar. “It’s been very satisfying.”
Dhamanpreet Kaur, a junior majoring in math and computer science and molecular biology, is using machine learning to determine the characteristics of patients who are readmitted to hospitals following their discharge to skilled nursing facilities. The work aims to predict who might benefit most from expensive telehealth systems that enable clinicians to monitor patients remotely. The project has given Kaur the chance to work with a multidisciplinary team of professors and doctors. “I find that aspect fascinating,” says Kaur, also an MIT EECS/Takeda SuperUROP scholar.
As attendees bustled through the two-hour December showcase, some of the most enthusiastic visitors were industry sponsors, including Larry Bair ’84, SM ’86, a director at Advanced Micro Devices. “I’m always amazed at what undergraduates are doing,” he says, noting that his company has been sponsoring SuperUROPs for the last few years.
“It’s always interesting to see what’s going on at MIT,” says Tom O’Dwyer, an MIT research affiliate and the former director of technology at Analog Devices, another industry sponsor. O’Dwyer notes that supporting SuperUROP can help companies with recruitment. “The whole high-tech business runs on smart people,” he says. “SuperUROPs can lead to internships and employment.”
SuperUROP also exposes students to the work of academia, which can underscore a key difference between classwork and research: Research results are unpredictable.
Junior math major Lior Hirschfeld, for example, compared the effectiveness of different machine learning methods used to test molecules for potential in drug development. “None of them performed exceptionally well,” he says.
That might appear to be a poor result, but Hirschfeld notes that it’s important information for those who are using and trusting those tests today. “It shows you may not always know where you are going when you start a project,” says Hirschfeld, also an MIT EECS/Takeda SuperUROP scholar.
EECS senior Kenneth Acquah had a similar experience with his SuperUROP project, which focuses on finding a technological way to combat money laundering with Bitcoin. “We’ve tried a bunch of things but mostly found out what doesn’t work,” he says.
Still, Acquah says, he values the SuperUROP experience, including the chance to work in MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory (CSAIL). “I get a lot more supervision, more one-on-one time with my mentor,” the MIT/EECS Tang Family FinTech SuperUROP scholar says. “And working in CSAIL has given me access to state-of-the-art materials.”
At halfway point, SuperUROP scholars share their research results syndicated from https://osmowaterfilters.blogspot.com/
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