#my gayness actually being accepted and ending up with someone i had a crush on

[svmbucky]

half the delight of 40s stevebucky as a ship is that it allows queer people to live out the fantasy of being gay and in love with your best friend and having that love actually be REQUITED

#deer.txt #stevebucky #stucky #40s stucky #as a certified Lesbian In Love With His Best Friend......... good for them. good for them. #my gayness actually being accepted and ending up with someone i had a crush on?? phew. does things to me #me living vicariously through all the fics where bucky is like 'oh steve will never feel the same way' or vice versa and then he DOES!!!

[clericbyers]

after mike comes out to the party, no one is really unsupportive. lucas, dustin, and max are a little uncomfortable at first, but after a while they stop caring. anyways, when they get more comfortable, whenever no one but the party is around mike, and trying to get him to do something he doesn't want to do, he uses "being too gay" as an excuse

Mike didn’t really expect to tell the Party anytime soon, not because he didn’t trust them but simply because he didn’t know how to say it. Words were Mike’s forte but words when being used to express his own emotions usually escaped him. He had been formulating a plan on what to say for a good number of weeks once he decided he would eventually tell them, but in the end, the news was unceremoniously dropped during a lazy weekend night.

“Mike,” started Dustin as he splayed himself on the floor. “you gonna ask out that cute chick from homeroom already? I heard she’s really into you.”

“What?” Mike scoffed and distractedly ate chips from a bowl on his chest as he laid his body across the couch. “No way.”

“No way she’s into you or no way you’ll ask her out?” Lucas asked from the other side of the room where he was lounging with Max. “Because yes way, she’s into your oblivious ass and yes way, you should.”

Mike sat up a little, frowning as he rubbed at his eyes and felt an uncomfortable buzz in his chest. “Uh, no way to asking her out.” He looked down at the chip bowl and felt his stomach flip. “I’m not interested.”

Max gave him a curious look. “I’m surprised, Mike; she really seems like your type.”

“And what is my type then because I’m pretty sure you don’t know.”

“Short, brunette, wide smile, good humor,” Dustin started listing off traits and then paused. “Basically El, actually. Wait…El is literally the only girl you’ve liked.”

Mike rubbed at the back of his head and nervously took another chip to his mouth. “Yeah, huh? Wow, that’s crazy.”

“I thought you said you were fine with it being over between you two.”

“I am fine.” Mike chewed on his chip, opened his mouth to say more, and then shut it as he felt his heart speed up in his chest. He looked over at his friends and then sighed. “It’s just…there’s not gonna be another girl out there for me.”

“Unless it’s El?” Max guessed.

“No.” Mike gritted his teeth and slouched as he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t look them in the eye and say this. “Because there are no girls for me.”

“Plenty of girls like you now, Mike; it’s not like middle school anymore.”

Lucas was right, it wasn’t like middle school anymore. Mike couldn’t hide it. “I’m…I don’t like girls. Like at all.”

There was silence for at least two minutes and Mike kept his eyes closed until Dustin spoke up. “Like in general or like like, like you don’t have a crush?”

Mike threw his hands up with a groan. “I’m gay! Like, really fucking gay and super into guys, alright?” He rubbed his hands down his face. “That’s why you don’t know my type.”

“Oh,” Lucas croaked and Mike took the chance to give his friends a glance. Dustin had sat up and was eyeing Mike curiously while Lucas and Max had twin furrowed brows. None of them looked visibly upset about the news but they didn’t look particularly settled about it either.

Dustin spoke up. “Wow, that’s…that’s surprisingly not as shocking as I expected it to be.” He squinted his eyes and looked Mike up and down. “Are you sure?”

Mike blinked twice. “What? Of course I’m sure.” He frowned and stared back at his bowl. “Why would I not be? It’s not like anything has changed.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean it like it’s a bad thing I just,” he waved his hands about, “it’s taking a moment to sink in, you know? I didn’t mean to seem like I don’t believe you; I do! I really do.”

“You don’t, uh, hate me?” Mike turned to Lucas and Max who were still silent after he came out. “I meant to tell you earlier but…it’s not really everyday conversation.”

“We don’t hate you, Mike, not at all.” Max started with a soft smile. “It’s just something to get used to, you know? But I promise you, there’s no hate at all.”

“Yeah,” Lucas grinned widely. “You’re still Mike after all. Now we just know why you keep rewatching Back to the Future.”

Mike flushed and scowled as he stuffed his face with more chips to avoid having to answer the incoming questions. “Oh my god, all this time I thought you had the hots for Marty’s mom,” Dustin gasped before cackling. “Fuck, Mike, you have the hots for Michael J. Fox.”

“Shut up,” Mike spat back though his face was bright red with embarrassment. “It’s not my fault he’s cute.”

Even saying that aloud made Mike blush harder and he returned to the chips with a vengeance. “Oh, this is so weird,” blurted Max and everyone turned to her with a quickness. “No, not that Mike is gay, you idiots, just that Mike and I have more in common than I thought.”

“Hey, I thought you told me you think River Phoenix is way hotter that Fox!” Lucas grumbled.

“That doesn’t mean Michael J. Fox isn’t hot! I mean, look at his ass!”

Mike nodded. “She’s kinda right.”

“My girlfriend and best friend are conspiring against me.” bemoaned Lucas as he slumped in his seat. Max scoffed but laughed and pulled him back up in their shared seat. “I can’t win against celebrities.”

“You’ll always win for me.” Max cooed as she pressed a kiss to Lucas’ cheek. Mike felt a little twinge in his chest as he thought about one day being able to be as open about loving someone as Max was about Lucas. That someone had already stolen his heart long ago but he’d already told enough on the day. Maybe that news would come later.

Later took a while longer than Mike expected. Even though the Party was honestly totally fine about Mike being gay, they still had moments of silence whenever Mike voiced an opinion about finding some guy cute or something along those lines. The moments of silence grew shorter and shorter, especially when Max would fill it with an agreement or beg to differ. She was surprisingly helpful with keeping the awkward dissonance between everyone low and even though Mike was loath to admit, he was genuinely happy they could bond over this. He really never expected to be able to simply talk about his attraction so easily but Max was frighteningly receptive and Mike couldn’t ask for anything better.

“So, who are you crushing on?” Max asked one day when it was just the two of them hanging out outside the comic book shop with Wonder Woman and Captain America back issues in hand. “I can tell you’ve got someone in mind so spill it; I wanna know.”

Mike shrugged and sipped at his Coke. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”

“Well, if it was I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Fair point.” Mike looked to make sure no one was nearby and then softly said, “Will.”

Max took a couple seconds and then nodded before motioning for Mike to get up and follow her. “That explains a lot.”

“Does it?” Mike tightened his grip on his comics. “I thought I was good at hiding it.”

“I didn’t say it was obvious, dummy.” Max flicked his forehead and then shook her head with a chuckle. “It’s just when you put the way you are with him together with knowing how you feel toward him, it all adds up. It makes sense.”

“Oh.” Mike stared at the ground and then cleared his throat. “Well, yeah. Yeah, he’s kinda it for me.”

“That’s disgustingly cute, Mike; don’t ever tell me that again.” She laughed and then grew a little softer. “Seriously though, I’m glad he makes you feel all fuzzy warm like crushes do. He’s a good kid from what I know. I’m glad you feel, uh, comfortable enough to share with me.”

“Me too.”

After that, there were basically no issues whenever Mike mentioned something in passing about being gay. And eventually, Dustin and Lucas learned about Mike’s crush on Will and they spent most their time accepting the news by teasing Mike relentlessly, especially when Will called the Wheelers and Mike would answer down in the basement where Dustin and Lucas would make kissy noises.

(When Will confessed over the line one day and Mike basically replied with, “I’m so in love with you; yes, I’ll be your boyfriend, why did you ever think I wouldn’t,” Lucas, Dustin, and Max cheered so loud Mrs. Wheeler came downstairs to check on them. When she left, they continued their cheering at a lower decibel but still equally excited.)

About a month later, Mike was lazily outlining a new story he had spent hours bouncing ideas off Will for (a conversation that was half Mike organizing his thoughts on his soon-to-be novel and half being the grossest couple on the face of the planet) and the rest of the Party was impatiently waiting for him to finish. He has said six times already “just five more minutes” and at least three of those times he didn’t actually add more to his notes as his mind kept wandering to Will’s soft words about how much he missed Mike. He really didn’t want to get up and lose inspiration or the freedom to laze around and daydream about Will.

“C’mon, Mike,” whined Dustin, “we said we’d go out biking over thirty minutes ago.”

“Sorry,” he replied mindlessly as his traced the scribbled I love Will in the top corner of the page, “I’m too busy being gay right now.”

Max fell out cackling and Lucas made a face. “If you don’t want to go you can just say so.”

“Hmm?” Mike looked up, seemingly confused before he thought back on what he said. “Oh. Well, I mean, I do wanna go, I was just…” he motioned vaguely with his hands and then groaned. “That came out so wrong.”

“That came out so wrong,” Max giggled and Mike flipped her off.

“I swear, Mike, if you start tossing around your gayness as an excuse to not do shit with us,” Dustin playfully teased as he plopped down next to Mike and snatched his notebook from his hands. “Oh god, Mike; not even I doodle love letters in my notebooks.”

“Hey!” Mike squealed, sitting up as his face went scarlet. “I didn’t say you could take that!”

“My heart yearns for the warmth of your gaze, desperation laced in every beat as each breath from my parted lips echoes the taste of your lips,” Dustin wheezed out between huffs of laughter as he bounced off the couch to find refuge in Max and Lucas. “Do you even know what his lips taste like?”

“Shut up, Dustin!”

Max took the notebook next. “Eyes as bright as starlight, enchanting as the northern star above whose light offers the path to freedom. For me, that is freedom to love you as deeply as I do.” She wriggled her eyebrows and passed the papers to Lucas as Mike lunged for her. “Mike the poet, huh?”

“It’s not for Will–I mean it is for Will, but not like that!” Mike snatched the notebook back before Lucas could get a good glance. “It’s a letter one of the characters in my novel wrote for his love interest, okay?”

“Sure, Mike,” Lucas drawled, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Mike pouted and stormed back to his seat, tucking the notebook under his arm as he plopped down. “You guys can go biking then; I’ll stay here writing love poems and being gay for my boyfriend.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” Max laughed but stood up and stretched before walking to Mike where she patted the top of his head. “Have fun, but next time you’re coming with us.”

“Depends on how much gay is in the forecast,” Mike petulantly mumbled under his breath, but he grinned when Max started laughing again.

“Wheeler, you’re something else,” she turned back to the other boys and motioned for them to follow her upstairs. “We’ll see you in a few! Tell Will and El we said hello; I know you’re gonna call Will the moment we’re gone.”

Mike looked over at his friends on the staircase, a little guilty as his thoughts had indeed turned to possibly calling Will, and he smiled softly at their warm gazes. “I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

#byler #byeler #yams writes #prompt? complete #it wasnt exactly as so bc i could not for the life of me get a good ending #but i hope this is good enough!! #<3 <3 <3 #max and mike friendship ftw #sorry this took like almost two weeks djsdjsdhs

[descendantofthesparrow]

Daughter of the Honorable Thief - Harry Hook x reader - part 6

Harry Hook x Daughter of Robin Hood!Reader

 key

 h/c- hair color

 e/c- eye color

 h/l- hair length

 s/c- skin color

 y/n- your name

 clothing reference:

  ---(y/n) POV---

Ahhh, lunchtime, one your favorite times of the day. Breathing deeply through your nose as you entered the cafeteria, your eye caught the baked macaroni and cheese, just calling your name, along with the cornbread and chicken legs near it.

Oh!! (favorite beverage) sounded good too.

Erza skipped next to you, babbling about what she was going to eat. “im in the mood for something strawberry~ oh!!! Strawberry shortcake yum!!”

You snorted at her antics, “erza, real food before dessert, remember?”

Erza pouted before nodding, following you into the line of meals, glancing wistfully to the desert line. You rolled your eyes, patting her shoulder “don’t worry erza, it'll still be there when you're finished.”

The amber-eyed girl huffed, following your lead of the food choices, mac&cheese, cornbread, but getting sliced mutton thigh instead of chicken.

You turned, looking around for seats, before spotting gil waving you over, you smiled, bumping Erza then making your way over to the corner table.

“Hey guys” you cheered, sitting next to harry, erza plopping next to Uma, “ hows it going?”

Uma hummed, dipping a fry in her ranch, tossing it in her mouth. She shrugged, not really having anything to say.

“notin mush” she talked through her food, you snickered, the teal haired girl blushed and swallowed her food “hated goodness class though, it's nauseating.”

Erza snorted, “I would think so, I full hour stuff with FG and her baby talk? Just kill me now”

Uma sorted, looking down at her food. Erza wiggled her brows at you, you huffed and tossed a crumb of cornbread at her.

“Ewwww?!?! What the fuck!?!?!” Mals voice screeched, across the mess hall, Uma, gil, and harry jumped when she screamed and turned, seeing mal making a disgusted face at her oreos. You and Erza glanced at each other, before covering your mouths to prevent Mal hearing you laugh.

Harry blinked, surprised, what the heck? Glancing at Uma, he raised his brow, confused.

“Uma?” he mumbled “wha’ the hell is goin on?” Uma snicked, finally realizing what happened.

“(y/n) and Erza played more than one prank” Uma whispered, not wanting Mal to figure out anything or accuse her of the pranks.

“they also replaced the filling in Mals oreos with blended up baby wipe jelly beans~”

Harry was lucky he wasn’t drinking anything because if he was it would have squirted out of his nose, he snorted loudly, luckily not loud enough to overpower Mals screeching.

Uma reached under the table and low fived you, grinning as Harry began to wheeze. Gil was biting his lip to stifle his laughter, and you giggled, glad they enjoyed your prank so much.

“well,” Uma smirked looking at her boys, “I think that’s a good enough prank for her to be into our group, right boys?”

Harry was still wheezing, so he just gave a thumbs-up as tears ran down his face. Gil nodded, you would be a great addition to the group, you were fun!!

“thank you~” you hummed, taking a sip of your (favorite beverage), eyeing Evie as she turned to look at Harry confused, she raised a brow at you, you just shrugged, the blue-haired girl huffed and turned back to her food.

“what the hell happened’ and why is Harry wheezing?” Harriet had arrived, and she is baffled by Harry's laughter, raising her brows at her little brother.

Uma snorted, shaking her head, “Mal got pranked” Harriet nodded, slapping her bother on the back, she made her way to the food lines.

Harry finally regained his breath, “I’ve said this once and I’ll say it again, lassie, yeh just keep surprising meh”

You giggled and gave a small mock bow, seeing Harriet returning and sliding to the side slightly for her to sit.

Harriet hummed thanks and glanced around the table, raising her brow at Erza.

“who are yeh?” Erza’s eye twinkled and she leaned forward towards Harriet, you rolled your eyes, dear god erza is such a disaster lesbian.

“me~? Erza, Erza Scarlet, pleasure ta meet ya.” Erza gave a flirty grin and Harriet huffed through her nose, looking down at her food.

“sorry lassie, I got meh eye on another lass”

Erza pouted but leaned back, respectful of Harriet.

You turned to look at Uma, seeing her glance between Harriet and Erza. She locked eyes with you confused.

Ah, she's confused by Erza’s obvious gayness. “Erza’s gay, she's known that since we were kids, big ol gay crush on wonder woman as soon as she saw her”

Erza turned to you, unbothered by your easygoing outing of her sexuality as she had given you permission to do so before, “bitch don’t lie and say you didn’t have a crush on her either,  you literally said you want her to crush you between her thighs”

“I’m not denying that” you teased, still grinning “I’m just saying that she was your sexual awakening”

“true true” erza nodded, Uma looked at her boys shocked, they looked back, shocked as well, they didn’t know sexuality was not really bothered with, accepted without a thought, they thought it would be like the isle.

“well,” Uma coughed, gaining yours and Erzas attention. “since we seem to be announcing our sexuality, I feel like I need to get this off my chest” you quickly interrupted, not wanting Uma to feel pressured.

“ you don’t have too, Erza and I are just comfortable with ours and pretty much everyone at the school is chill with that kinda stuff, but you don’t have to feel obligated to share your sexuality, that’s your business, your privacy.” Erza nodded rapidly, wholeheartedly agreeing with you

Uma stayed silent for a moment, glancing at her boys.

“well,” she mumbled, your mini-speech actually making her want to tell you guys even more “im okay with telling yall, as you seem to be people I can trust with it.”

You nodded, Erza grinning along, Uma softly smiled, Harry and Gil following her lead

“um alright okay…” Uma took a deep breath “Im Bi”

“sweet” you grinned, making Uma’s shoulders relax “im demi”

Uma raised her brow, “what does demi mean?”

“oh!” you didn’t know that on the isle, there were few known sexualities on the isle, I mean they were known, just not by the VKs “demi is the shortened term of demisexual, its when a person who does not experience sexual attraction unless they form a strong emotional connection with someone.”

“ah” Uma hummed, that made sense

“I think im demi too them” Gil spoke through his fries “I've never really been super attracted to somebody till I've known them for a while”

You hummed “well if you don’t know then you don’t know, there are lots of people who don’t know where they are on the spectrum and that’s okay, you don’t need a label for what you feel”

Gil brightened, wow you gave really good pep talks.

“im pan” Harry blurted, blushing slightly as you giggled, Erza joining you “wha’? why yeh laughing?”

“be-because,” you snickered “because you must have a fucking time with being attracted to anyone regardless of gender!”

Uma groaned, along with Harriet, “Oh my fucking god you don’t know the half of it!!! He's such a fucking disaster!!! He flirts with anything and everything that moves!!!”

Harry was turning scarlet, slamming his head on the table, covering his face with his arms. “oh really~?” you laughed, feeling slightly bad for Harry.

“yeah,” Uma groaned, “he's flirted with Carlos, evie, jane, Audrey, ben, everyone!!!” you burst out cackling but calmed down quickly when you saw Harry glaring at Uma.

“sorry” you coughed, Harry just nodded pouting, face still red. Uma was about to go on but you flicked her shoulder, causing her to realize she was making harry slightly uncomfortable.

“oh, sorry har” Harry just hummed, his face finally cooling down. “Is alright’ “

“well” Harriet hummed, stealing one of Harrys apple slices, he growled and swiped at her, she just snickered and brushed him off.

“That was an interesting conversation, but I’d rather we stop talking about Harrys fanatics and just go back to normal conversations”

The rest of the group agreed and continued on talking. From classes to sword-fighting styles, the six of you were quickly gaining a bond.

Then the bell rang

“well,” you stood, gathering up your tray, Erza following your lead, “time for the next class, see you later guys”

The four pirate teens nodded, standing as well and tossing their trash away.

You bumped fists with Uma and walked off with erza at your side.

“sooo~” Erza hummed, a shit-eating grin on her face “Uma's bi~”

“yep” you mumbled, tapping on your phone, texting your mother. “that means you have a chance, don’t fuck it up”

“I won't I won't”

“that’s what you said last time when we were taking the history test, and look at your score, 25 out of 100”

“fuck off hood!!!”

---end of part 6---

Comment or message me for part 7

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #x reader #dotht #daughter of the honorable thief #daughter of robin hood #erza scarlet ohara

[texastheband]

Size does matter

By Lena Corner Taken from I-D Magazine - May 1999, Issue #186 ‘Skin & Soul’

After the rebirth of cool that was White on Blonde, Texas are finally ready to capitalise on their credibility. And for Sharleen Spiteri, this time it's personal...

Armed with a wedge of crisp tenners ready to blow at the bar, it's impossible to deny a slight tinge of disappointment when Sharleen Spiteri's choice of beverage turns out to be a cup of tea. Ask what she's doing at the weekend and she talks excitedly about staying in to await delivery of a new fridge. Getting on a domestic roll, she waxes lyrical about the draught excluders she's just fitted in her new Primrose Hill home. "I think I'm turning into my mum," she concludes.

Sharleen Spiteri may be a woman who stands accused of many things, but domestic obsession isn't one of them. She's been criticised for trying to add credibility to her soul-tinged radio-friendly rock by aligning herself with the likes of Rae and Christian and the Wu-Tang Clan. When she employed Juergen Teller to shoot the cover of Texas' 1997 album White On Blonde, it was said she brought him in an attempt to re-invent herself as a moody, hip and highly marketable frontwoman. Even her choice of boyfriend, Arena Homme Plus editor Ashley Heath, who she's been seeing for years, has been called her svengali figure, a calculated move to position herself within the sphere of all things cool. "I've never ever seen it written where someone's gone, 'Yeah Sharleen's alright, she knows what she's doing'," she says. "But it's like fuck them, who cares? Everyone seems to forget that I used to be a hairdresser, I used to do shoots constantly and teach all over the world. I was very much part of the whole industry before I was ever in a band, then suddenly it got to this point where everyone was saying Texas are trying to re-invent themselves. People want a story though, they want to invent something." When Sharleen first appeared on the cover of i-D back in March'97, readers wrote in to complain: why should we want to feature someone like Spiteri? She was old news: her debut single, I Don't Want a Lover, hit number eight way back in '89. Her records shifted millions and she'd spent far too much time at the top of the charts. In 1997, Texas were one of the most played acts on British radio. Mass market, stadium-sized exposure - how uncool is that? "I don't want to make cool music," she retorts angrily. "What is cool music? It might be cool today but it's not going to be cool tomorrow. People still talk about ‘I Don't Want A Lover’ and that was ten years ago; to me that's far cooler than writing some fucking stupid song that sold 20 copies. It's like, don't waste my time, pretentious fucks. I'm not interested in being trendy. I went through all that when I was 16. It seems it's more important nowadays to be into the right music, wear the right trainers, sit in the right bars and have the right furniture. It's too much effort, I'm too old and it's too boring." Hence her fad for draught, excluders. There was a time, though, when Sharleen did care what people thought and she'd sit through interviews desperately trying to be liked. Even so, after the third Texas album, Ricks Road, the backlash kicked in. People lost interest, the press wrote her off and Spiteri took it all very personally. The whole experience left her feeling crushed and betrayed, she says. For a while Texas plugged away on the European tour circuit; they went "where the love was". But when the tour ended in '95, Spiteri had had enough and took off to Paris for a year to live with her mate. For a while it was touch and go. But today she's got an Ivor Novello award for 'outstanding body of work' sitting on her mantelpiece and a four million-selling comeback album. Finally she realised it was time to stop caring what people thought. "We really fought to make that album," Sharleen admits. "A lot of people thought Texas had split up - some didn't know we'd ever existed - but we made a record because we believed in our ability to keep it going, we kept our values and rode it through. When people aren't interested, you really have to fight for what you believe in; we did and to come through the other end was the biggest gift anyone could ever have given us. All those people who went out and brought that record was the biggest compliment anyone could ever pay us." At the end 1997, Texas played at the Hogmanay party in Edinburgh. With the castle as a backdrop and a sky exploding with fireworks, the curtain came down on what Sharleen describes as an unbelievable, fantastic year. That moment, playing to a rapturous New Year's audience, marked the end of the White On Blonde era and two days later, still riding on the buzz, she sat down with co-writer Johnny McElhone in her Glasgow recording studio and tried to do it again. The Hush, their fifth album, is the result. "This is the Texas album we've been building up to throughout our entire history," she says. "I really do believe we've nailed it."

Sharleen describes it as sensual, a collection of moods, hence the title. They spent weeks planning the running order; it's a record, she reckons, that will take your imagination to all sorts of different places when you put it on in your bedroom. Namechecked influences remain the classic Texas roll call: "You can hear the Roxy Music influences," she says. "Abba and the Human League all mixed in with The Beatles, Marvin Gaye, AI Green and Ann Peebles." The result is pure, polished summer-tinged pop with Spiteri's syrupy, smooth vocals stronger than ever, delivered lying as usual on her back. For the album's artwork, this time Sharleen chose Gucci campaign photographer Luis Sanchez and headed out to Miami Beach where she languished in the sea for something more seductive than the pared down White On Blonde sleeve. "It was a case of let's go to the other end of the spectrum," she says, "the complete opposite of what Juergen Teller would do. He's very stripped down, very in your face. But because it's called The Hush, we wanted something shiny and glamorous. I've always loved the Roxy Music sleeves, classic late '70s album covers. It was more on that tip." The source of inspiration for one track entitled The Girl actually came from Lauryn Hill. It refers to that rare thing: a woman with money and power, with the conviction to use it exactly the way she wants to. "She's stuck to her guns and I think that's what it's all about," Sharleen says. "I'm so aware a lot of people are quite prepared to sell their soul to get what they want, but I'm not and I don't think Lauryn is either. I look at men's magazines and see all these girls on the cover; you simply cannot get on one unless you're prepared to get your tits out and so many people do. It's inspiring seeing the way Lauryn Hill does it. And then she gets called an awkward bitch for it. It's so difficult if you're a woman and you've got an opinion. It's not considered an opinion, it's a fucking attitude problem and I find that very frustrating." Inevitably Spiteri with her natural, androgynous good looks and flair for throwing together Prada with trainers has had countless offers to strip down and 'do something sexy'. But their idea of sexy, she says, is very different from her own. "Sexy is really all about imagining as opposed to seeing. That's why I love working with Juergen; his whole thing is about catching a real moment, something that you actually would do like sit in the bath. If it's all there in your face you don't even see it. But once you've shown it, you've shown it and you can't go back on it. I think it's laughable - if that's where the male sex are supposed to be at, it's very sad. Why do they have to have everything in pictures to understand how things work?" At school, Sharleen was one of those girls who were approached by the boys - but sadly never for anything she had to offer. "I'm not an archetypal beauty. Everything's a mess, my nose is all bent," she says. "It was always, Sharleen, you know your mate, sort us out a date.' I was like a pimp at school. At the time it was like, 'You bastard', but it was actually a really good way to accept the way I am." In those days, Spiteri was convinced she was going to grow up to be a designer. She gave up her Saturdays to study fashion at Glasgow School Of Art, landing her first-ever discount card for the local art supplies shop. She spent countless nights cutting and embellishing outfits, standing on the kitchen table while her long-suffering mum pinned up her latest creation at two in the morning. It's not surprising then that when Muiccia Prada approached her to model for the Miu Miu line, Spiteri turned her down flat. "You're not going to get me stuck with one designer," she says. "I love clothes too much." Back in '89, sporting tomboy denims and a Siouxie Sioux haircut, Spiteri modelled herself on Patti Smith. She made great music, she wasn't gorgeous and she wasn't blonde something to aspire to. But two years ago at the Q awards, Spiteri's mentor came crashing off her pedestal. "She did this whole thing: 'If these are all the people I've influenced then fuck it'. I thought, 'You rude cow'. PJ Harvey gave her the award - if I'd been presenting it I'd have belted her. To have been doing this for so long and to be so lucky to be doing it, she should frigging know better and she should be glad if she's influenced anyone." Since that moment, Spiteri's stopped playing Smith's music. "All I hear when I put her records on is just a really angry person. It's not good vibes to be giving out, it's like what on earth have you possibly got to be angry about?" To this day, Spiteri remains eternally, sweetly grateful for her ten years in Texas, even those spent wallowing in the European pop wilderness. "I'm always very careful what I wish for," she says. "And I never tell anyone because they'll never come true." Texas, she thinks, was something that was always meant to happen, even though when she was first asked to sing she thought it was a wanky chat up line. She carefully avoids tempting fate; insisting on being the last to walk out on stage and always locking away the first pressing of every Texas record because superstition tells her to. She refuses to court fame for fame's sake. "It's easy to be invisible if you want to be," she says. Once a crazed Biblewielding lunatic forced his way into her dressing room in France. Even though he was ousted before he got to say his piece, it was an incredibly frightening moment for her. At 32, she's thinking about having kids; attention like that isn't what she needs. Chances are, The Hush will do a White On Blonde and sell and sell, especially if Chris Evans takes it on as a personal crusade, as he has before. Next month Texas release the single In Our Lifetime. "The whole sentiment behind it is about finding yourself in a situation that's totally meant for you and taking it," Sharleen says. "You only get one chance, it's that once in a lifetime situation; you've got to grab it with both hands and never let it go." The tale of Texas possibly? The story of the girl who ditched a glittering career in hairdressing to join a band on a whim and who persevered in the face of endless criticism. Spiteri pauses for a moment. "Oh yes," she says. "I've never thought of it like that."

The Texas single, In Our Lifetime, is out on April 19 on Mercury, followed on May 10 by The Hush LP.

#article #TheHush #sharleen spiteri #SharleenSpiteri #Sharleen #Spiteri #ID Magazine #Juergen Teller

[dr-donogood]

m'kay gonna talk about my COD AU now

SO this AU has a lot of RiDem so ndjdjd Warning

it also focuses on Ultimis Richtofen the most nxjjddj oop

and maybe spoilers for the new map AND the ask blog I'm working on for this AU @confessions-of-a-science-freak so if you wanna dive into that with no spoilers you can

(also, i actually OP don't know shit about Primis or the new map, so I'm sorry if some things don't make sense

The parts that have the characters still fighting in the zombie apocalypse are underdeveloped because I've been thinking about this for only a week and I've mostly just been thinking about Ult Richtofen djjsj)

------------------------------------------------

SO BASICALLY the 1st thing that is different is that Ult Richtofen had a robot daughter back when he worked at group 935, she was supposed to simply be a robot assistant to help with things, but due to the fact that she is powered by element 115, she had basically became human.

but i won't talk about her that much yet

skip all the way to the ending which i have completely changed.

and Ult Richtofen is seen in the intro doing some evil stuff, buuut, Ult Richtofen is kinda being taken over by madness and corruption so he OP can't think straight ((hehe cuz he gey)) and is going even more mad, he also still has his Aether powers so he is all powerful and shit.

in the morning once everyone wakes up, Ult Richtofen is kinda back to normal and can't remember last nights evil doings.

Primis and Ultimis continue doing whatever shit they do in order to save everyone

skip ahead a bit cuz I'm still thinking up the filler.

and OH NO Ult Richtofen back stabs everyone, but as i have said before he really isn't in the right mind and is corupted as fuck and poor baby needs saving.

and a mini boss battle ensues

he do some evil shit but the Crew's get him to calm the FUCK down (it's more dramatic than how I'm typing it but that's cuz I'm trying to summarize it).

anyways- Richtofen calms down kinda but is in a sort of daze and is unresponsive (i guess he is sort of trying to keep the demons in his mind from escaping and hurting his friends and that takes concentration IDK.)

so Dempsey carries him around Bridal style (hehehheheheh)

Dempsey and Richtofen have a much closer Relationship than in Canon, although Tank is slightly embarrassed by his crush on Richtofen cuz he grew up in old bigot times so he keeps there interactions on the DL (even when they are just hanging out) but he learns that his feelings are valid

ANYWAY i haven't thought much after that

accept that the Primis and Ultimis Crew beat the shit out of Monty

( I have also thought of too cute gay scenarios with Richtofen and Dempsey that I may or may not write 1 shots about....and it's specifically for when they are still stuck in the war...i have WAAAY more than 2 cute scenarios for RiDem in this AU.)

but ummm i also need to think about more scenarios with the other characters. there are so many it's hard to spotlight all of them, but I'm trying to.

anyway-

Richtofen manages to use the power of telling his demons to fuck off and also is gayness for Tank to regain control of his brain.

it seems like the corruption has gone away (it hasn't fully because no matter what he will never fully be rid of the darkness "im14andthisisdeep" (i can actually say that cuz i AM 14)) the crew also think that his Aether powers are gone but NOPE they still here, only difference is Richtofen has no idea how to control them one bit (i mean he didn't know before but now it's worse)

but no one knows that he has these powers, not even himself...for a while.

After Dr.Monty is defeated the Crew's are aloud to go home

HA JK there home is destroyed by zombies and missiles lol

"how about we hijack another Universe, one that isn't fucked up?" OK SURE JXJDJDJ

and so they do, they live in a modern universe where everything is kinda ok but OH NO it turns into a sitcom. *insert wacky theme music here*

oh God i haven't even talked about shadow man heh forgot he existed lol

IDK maybe Richtofen or someone hdhd fixes them??? or some shit??

maybe Shadow man and all his apothocon bitches get therapy

i still need to think about it

i still need to idea out a few kinks and add more details but this is what i have so far

i also have a Charicter Bio on Amino for Richtofen if you wanna check it out http://aminoapps.com/p/xbfb05q

#cod zombies spoilers #cod zombies #cod AU #and this had been another EP OF #'ANOTHER SHITTY SELF ENDULGENT AU ABOUT WHAT EVER FANDOM IM IN FOR THE NEXT FEW MONTHS JXJDJDJ' #spoilers

[tyrus-time]

my perspective on TJ’s story (as of 3.13)

Over the past few days, I’ve gone back and forth several times about whether to post my response to, yknow, the Gay Angst. OBVIOUSLY I’m heartbroken, as a Tyrus shipper and someone who is deeply invested in their characters as individuals, to see the two of them hurting. But I know this drama is a plot device and that Tyrus, one way or another, will be endgame. 

Currently, I am feeling anxious about how much development we will actually get to see for them... but that’s in the future, and I’m trying to focus on the now.

No, there’s some other stuff that made me feel angry and disappointed and honestly, foolish when I first watched the episode.... I wrote out a rant on my phone, and then I added to it later, and now I’m trying to make some sense out of it... now that I’m calmer (but still sad) about it. 

This is a pretty long, critical post, so feel free to keep scrollin! 

(I reallyjust need to get this out of my system so I can move on.)

I know some people are actually glad that TJ’s storyline is addressing homophobia, but I gotta be honest with yall: I, personally, am not. I’m honestly devastated that this is the route they took, especially since it still seems the gay themes are mostly subtextual. 

As of now, there is a LOT of room for interpretation regarding what is going through TJ’s mind and what Kira’s implied threat was actually implying. I don’t interact with children, like, at all... so I really have no idea how much they’d be picking up on.

And I feel kinda uncomfortable with the show using themes of homophobia/the threat of being outed/etc... just to create drama and conflict between characters? Using homophobia as a plot device in this way, without even beginning to deconstruct homophobia, comes off as semi-exploitative to me?? Which is probably because I’m just so tired of Gayngst, which is really my main issue with this storyline...

I am exhausted of the pattern of gay characters struggling with homophobia (internalized or otherwise) and this then causing them to hurt/betray their (gay) love interests. 

Being gay and having relationship angst is one thing. But always having angst related to being gay? It is a well-worn trope that I am do not like.

It’s “realistic,” yes, but it’s frequently been done before — hence the TV tropes page on it.

While it is important to portray the affects of homophobia upon LGBT+ and questioning individuals, there must be a balance! 

When Gayngst-y representation is the main representation you see, it feels like that’s the ONLY narrative. You are left with the idea that being LGBT+ means you WILL suffer, that you NEED to struggle with your sexuality/gender because that’s how the identity development process is ‘supposed’ to go. And it shouldn’t have to be that way.

(I speak from personal experience)

This is why I’m so passionate about studying LGBT+ media representation. Media informs us of social norms, scripts, expectations; what is acceptable and what is appropriate; how we’re supposed to think and feel and behave. It’s often very subtle, but all of those images and narratives become internalized and affect how you understand yourself, the world around you, and how you fit in to that world.

Media images shouldn’t just reflect society as it is today; it should offer images of a brighter future.

There’s this resonant quote from the musical Hadestown:

“He could make you see how the world could be, in spite of the way that it is.”

And that’s what I so dearly want to see in LGBT+ representation. 

It breaks my heart whenever people say things like, “it’s unrealistic for a young gay teen to be comfortable with their identity.” It truly breaks my heart and makes me want to change the narrative.

We should have stories that should how the world CAN be, not just how it often ‘realistically’ is. 

I want to see worlds that AREN’T heteronormative, because I’m hopeful for a future in which we truly do dismantle heterosexism. 

I want to see queer relationships that go through the “normal” difficulties of dating someone, such as dealing with typical awkwardness and learning to communicate better... instead of dealing with external and internalized homophobia. 

Perhaps I’m asking too much, and shouldn’t be this hopeful in 2019, but I will continue to assert the need for joyful, celebratory queer stories that diverge from the trend of queer tragedy.

And I really was hoping that Andi Mack could show this radical possibility that gay people can just be HAPPY sometimes, but.... this is Disney channel.... So I guess I’m not really surprised, but I am still disappointed.

Disappointed not just because I was hoping for an unashamedly gay character, but also because I could see TJ realistically having little conflict over his gayness. (I made a post about this months ago, and I’ll probably be repeating those points now.)

TJ’s concern about how people perceive him has been well-established, re: the dyscalculia storyline. However, I’ve always had an affinity for the concept that because he cares about Cyrus so deeply, he is able to come to terms with his gayness without as much turmoil as one might expect. I think this concept is even more valid after the gun incident, with TJ standing up to his previous friends in order to do the right thing, and admitting that Cyrus is the best thing in his life.

“But ash, this is just you being a hopeless romantic!” you might say. But wait! I have more evidence!

I now realize just how much I was projecting myself onto TJ in regards to his insecurities, and it really had nothing to do with romance:

I have always had this complex duality of “I don’t care what people think!! I gotta be true to myself” and “Oh my god, I care so much and I’m so socially anxious.” (I bet some of you can relate.) 

The thing is... while I feel self-conscious about my transness on a near-daily basis... I’ve been pretty unapologetically queer since I realized that I actually had a gay crush. 

Granted, I was already a big ‘ally’ with several LGB friends in a fairly liberal area, and this gay awakening was in high school (not middle school). So TJ wouldn’t have all of that going for him.

But my thought processes (regarding my insecurities) has always been: 

If people don’t like me for who I am, then they’re not worth my time... 

But if people negatively judge me for my abilities? Game over, I’m an insecure mess. THAT’S what I’m most insecure about: seeming dumb or weak or incapable. 

And again, maybe this is just self-indulgent projection, but I think this fits TJ, too.

In S2, TJ clearly is so insecure because he thinks he’s stupid since he struggles with math. And since he’s a jock, perhaps at first he can play off his bad grades with the whole “Oh, I’m a athlete, and getting good grades is for nerds, and I’m cooool” (or whatever rhetoric is used nowadays but middle school boys). BUT having a learning disability is far scarier, because it solidifies (in HIS mind) that there is something inherently wrong with his brain.

I could go on and on, analyzing TJ’s inner psyche, but the point is: 

I could see him being insecure about his physical and mental skills such as basketball and math, yet being self-assured of his sexuality. 

This would also be a realistic option for his character — in my opinion at least, because my own life experiences align well with this interpretation, and well, that’s gotta count for something because I’m pretty sure I’m a real person, even if my experiences aren’t widely shared?

TLDR; The way that they ended taking TJ’s character is a “realistic” option, but it’s not the option that I would’ve chose — both for personal reasons (personally relating to TJ, and wanting to see Tyrus be happy) AND social reasons (believing that children should be able to see a character who isn’t show to struggle with self-acceptance, especially since we already saw Cyrus be scared of himself for being gay).

This isn’t to take away the validity of anyone who DOES relate to/support TJ’s current arc! This is me just sharing my own perspective (and trying to get the sad feelings out of my system). 

My whole approach to media representation is challenging the “good representation” vs “bad representation” binary, because doing so is incredibly counterproductive and oversimplified. Instead, we should be constantly asking “What is the context for this representation? What is valuable about it? What are it’s flaws? How could be possibly do better in the future?” So I can see advantages of this particular storyline, but I also have some criticisms that I believe to be substantiated.

#not even gonna tag bc i feel p vulnerable about sharing this #but i needed to release it into the universe so all this stops swirling in my head #and i do feel better having written it out and sending it away

[tjkiahgb]

Anon and I wrap up Season 2 - Part 3: Best and Worst Character Arcs

“Question Three: Which main character had the best arc and vice versa? I’ll go extra and give out a list in order of best to worst - Buffy, Bex, Cece, Jonah, Andi and Cyrus.

Bex had a really cool arc from trying to find a niche between friend and mom. But more importantly, her arc on graduating and finding her career is a good message to kids not to give up on their education. 

Cece has really loosened up this season and it’s nice to see her have fun.

Jonah arguably had powerful moments but I find his arc to be disjointed. It’s like the writers never really knew what to do with him and decided to give him a mental breakdown out of the blue. I initially thought it was a clever twist to make Jyrus happen but it ended up being just more lousy writing.

Andi may be the main character but she hardly had any development for the whole season. Sure, she’s more assertive and outspoken but I feel like those are just magnifications of the same Andi that we saw in season one. It doesn’t help at all that Jandi is the biggest thing going on with her, which made her pretty stagnant. The only storyline where she had any sense of agency was playing the Bexie matchmaker.

Speaking of agency, this is the main criteria of which I base this answer. And thus Buffy Driscoll takes the crown. Where to begin? Her insatiable hunger to be good at the things she sets her mind into? Her refusal to cave in to peer pressure and engage in a romantic dyad she feels she isn’t ready for? Her determination to break barriers to show that girls can be better than boys even in sports? Her ability to exercise self-control and perseverance despite and in spite of the animosity and ostracism she has faced in her team? Her decision to be the bigger person and helping her tormentor for the sake of being a team player?  Her compassion and loyalty to Cyrus? The only time Buffy lost agency in this season is when her mom got a job somewhere else and they had to move - but even then she stubbornly refused to say goodbye and dictated the terms of her departure. Man, this season has been the season of the slayer.

In all fairness, Cyrus did have a lot of agency in this season as well. There was his aforementioned coming out scene, his determination to make his Bash Mitzvah a success, and Tyrus. However, the reason why I rate him as having the worst arc is that most of these big developments occur off-screen. On the basis of what is actually shown on the show, the biggest arcs he had was Ciris. Which was pretty okay but I felt was just abruptly cut off. I know a lot of people here lament the fact that he never used the word gay. But I think his refusal to use that label also shows agency on his part. I think my main problem is that his arc appears to be disjointed - he’s just the kooky sidekick who’s there for comedic relief until his big moments come. And this has made point A to point B to point C Cyrus seemingly different persons. And seeing all the press, I find a certain dissonance between using Joshua as a poster boy for representation and having his character’s story relegated to the backburner for most of the season. The writers have treated Cyrus’ story as this precious china that is there mostly for display only to be brought out during special occasions. As I have said before, for someone who's second on the billing, Cyrus' story gets short changed over and over and over again.”

It’s hard to argue with too many of these, Anon. I’ll pass on ranking them myself, but I’ll jump in and add a little bit more.

I love how multifaceted Bex’s issues are. She’s learning how to be a mom. She’s learning how to be a better daughter and interact better with her mother. She’s dealing with her relationship with Bowie and trying to find a split between being mature (respecting where he’s at in life) and going after the man she wants. And she’s finding her place in the working world. Her growth seems to happen pretty quietly, but it’s impressive to see how far she’s come.

Celia is such a fantastic character. I think it’s great that now that she doesn’t have to shoulder so much of the responsibility of raising Andi, she can finally be more of a grandma. Her relationship with Bex continues to be fascinating -- trying to help her succeed while also trying to figure out when she’s overstepping. Her stuff with Ham this season has been a bit of a disappointment though. They interact less and less as time goes on, so much so that their storylines have become about how they don’t talk enough. Celia buying The Fringe without telling Ham can be chalked up a little to her go-getter attitude, but that’s still way too much. And Ham deciding to leave the country without telling her is about on par. I’m hoping for some cleaner stories in season 3 between those two (though I get the feeling Ham’s going to be doing a lot of “traveling” for much of the time).

I sort of agree with you on Jonah’s arc being disjointed, though for different reasons. Much of 2A was tied in Andi and Jonah feeling out their relationship, but I found it to be not incredibly interesting stuff. As I said in part 1 of this series of posts, I actually liked the introduction of the panic attack. I think it gave Jonah some depth that he was sorely missing as a main character. I never saw it as a way to move him towards Cyrus, though. I accepted it as being sprung from his relationship issues with Andi. The stuff with him in 2B was hit and miss. I liked the idea of him treating his anxiety through music, but doing all of that therapy through the lens of Bowie, who’s really kind of making things up as he goes along, was maybe a mistake. He should seek professional help at some point (perhaps in season 3). I do like the steps he’s taking to mature, as well. Being gracious around Walker at the art fair was a great move. But, right after that, he signed up to go to a two month frisbee camp, which is the worst thing he’s ever done. I mean, it’s not really bad, but, you know, TWO MONTH FRISBEE CAMP?!

I’d argue Andi’s arc has been the worst of the bunch. Season 2 overall for her has been a lot of messy back and forth about how much she does or doesn’t need Jonah in her life. Her relationship with the GHC remains pretty much the same, which is sort of nice, to keep it as this constant bright spot in her life, but doesn’t allow for a whole lot of drama. And the Bexie stuff has been pretty static for her as well. Andi started the season trying to get them together and didn’t really veer off that path. I feel like even in 2A, when it seemed like Bexie maybe wouldn’t happen, or later, when there were obstacles like Bowie getting a serious girlfriend, Andi never stopped believing that Bex and Bowie had to get married. I’ve enjoyed the growth in her relationships with her immediate family members, but on the whole, her arc has been lacking.

You’re right about Buffy having had the most to do this season. She’s shown strength throughout all of season 2 in various ways, but being strong is fairly consistent with her character. I find her most interesting moments come when she lets her guard down a bit: admitting to Jonah she’s chasing victory to prove to herself she’s strong, admitting to her mother she’s not strong enough to leave her friends. I think finding the ability to forgive those who’ve wronged her -- Amber and TJ -- showed a lot of emotional strength. Buffy’s season has been an interesting study in the ways strength manifests itself, and that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is admit to a weakness.

I know we’ve made a lot about Cyrus’s storylines receiving a lack of visibility, but I will say I think his arc is still a decent one. (For the record, I think not saying “gay” and the fact that he does only have a few explicitly gay moments a season comes from the Mouse up above rather than being a choice made by the writers.) Cyrus has matured a lot over the season. He’s grown, he’s had his Bar Mitzvah, he’s begun to learn what he does and doesn’t want in a relationship. Letting go of his vision of Jonah and moving on (while it upset a lot of viewers) is actually quite a big move for him. He’s trying to see people more for who they are rather than what he’s made them out to be. Plus, he’s starting to gain more confidence, which is great. When you look at his three explicit moments of gayness this season, you see that. The coming out conversation with Buffy was fraught with confusion and fear. His coming out with Andi was much lighter. By the time he’s talking to Buffy about his lost crush on Jonah, it’s business as usual. He’s gay. He can talk about his feelings for a boy (at least to Buffy) with little drama. Here’s to hoping it gets a little more spotlight in season 3.

I want to touch on a couple of the recurring characters, too. (Not TJ. Everyone knows where I stand on TJ’s arc.)

Amber. Poor Amber. My heart goes out to any Amber stans in the audience. Her redemption arc was beaten up and tossed around all over the place. I thought maybe they were heading there in 2A but that whole ferris wheel thing happened. I thought they might try again in 2B, but they just ripped off her eyebrow and forgot about her for almost the entire rest of the season until they suddenly brought her back with a few episodes to go and did a pretty sloppy story. The friendship with Cyrus could maybe work, given some time, but the Buffy thing happened way too fast. And really, Amber’s story is mostly with Jonah and Andi anyway, so why go there? At least she’s starting to get put into a better light. Maybe she’ll finally get to settle things with Jonah and Andi in season 3.

And Walker? He was introduced as this charming, artsy boy, and now, several appearances later, what more do we know about him? Sort of nothing. He’s still a charming, artsy boy. We know he’s coming back for season 3. I’m curious what kind of arc he might have in store for him. What other aspects does he have besides being charming and making art?

#Andi Mack #Bex Mack #Celia Mack #Buffy Driscoll #Cyrus Goodman #Jonah Beck #Amber #Walker Brodsky #Andi #analysis

[petrareads]

Ballerina’s and Ice Cream

I had never considered rumors to be a living, breathing thing. But the words of my classmates seemed to follow me as I casually walked through the hall. From what I could tell, the rumors had nothing to do with me - they never did - but try as I might I couldn’t block them out today. This time, the names being repeated were names I was very familiar with. Cara and Hayden. It wasn’t that they were excessively popular; in fact their relationship hadn’t interested many people up until now. I was familiar with them because Cara and I had taken ballet classes together ever since we were ten years old. I’d also had a crush on her ever since then. It’d really been a blow when my dance partner had chosen Hayden over me. Though to be fair I don’t think she ever thought I was in the running. We’d never discussed being anything more than really good friends. Actually, we never discussed anything that remotely involved feelings. I rolled my eyes at the thought of Cara stammering through a conversation like that. Honestly, it was still a wonder to me how she managed to cope with having a boyfriend at all! I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure relationships involved having feelings for each other. With that thought I stopped in my tracks. According to the rumors I’d been hearing, Cara didn’t have a boyfriend. Not anymore. As her friend it was my duty to go comfort her.  

Instead of finding Cara in the library with her usual squad, I was surprised to find her sitting on the benches by the basketball court. Both Cara and Hayden hated sports. I snuck up behind her and shouted, “Boo!”

After leaping out of her chair she screamed, “Rose!” and swore at me. She turned around to slap me on the shoulder while continuously insulting me. I laughed at her pathetic attempts to hurt me and plopped down on the seat next to hers. With a grumble she sat back down too.

“What’s up?” I asked her with a grin. I couldn’t help but grin around her.

“Did you seriously just say what’s up? Who even are you?” she responded with a look of  fake disgust.

“Oh shut up… just tell me how you are.”

“I’m magnificent as always.” “Really?” I asked her skeptically. “You and a certain someone didn’t break up?” She had the decency enough to look sheepish about lying to me.

“Oh yeah. That.” We sat in silence for a minute and I secretly wished I could bang my head against a brick wall. Why did she always make it so difficult to have a proper conversation! When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I finally gave in.

“So…are you going to tell me what happened, or am I going to have leave you here to sulk by yourself?”

“Ugh fine. Hayden and I had been fighting a lot recently about…a variety of things. I guess it just became too much for me and I thought I’d be much better off without him.” With a slight growl she added, “after our week apart I can confidently say that I was right.”

They’d broken up a week ago and she hadn’t told me? I cast the thought from my mind and decided I’d come back to that later. At the moment I decided to focus on the anger she’d used when talking about her former boyfriend.

“What’s he done this time?” I asked her. It was not uncommon for Hayden and Cara to have little arguments: Cara never expressed her feelings and Hayden seemed to express them too much. Sometimes I think Cara considered this an endearing quality of his. Other times I could tell she found it very irritating; especially when Hayden’s mind ran wild and he would exaggerate the situation. From looking at the scowl on her face I knew I was right in my assumption that Hayden had acted rashly and blown something she said way out of proportion.

Waving her arms in the air she told me, “For starters, look how he dealt with this situation; he went and turned all my friends against me! Did you know Rebecca and Sadie went with him to get ice cream last night?” she asked bitterly. “Neither of them have spoken a word to me today! He probably fed them lies about how I broke his poor little heart. And to top it all off he keeps glaring at me whenever I pass him in the hallways.” Her story suddenly made sense about why she was sitting out here by herself instead of in the cool air-conditioned library.

“Well,” I said clapping my hands together cheerily, “he hasn’t turned me against you yet! You could do a lot worse than me as your friend.”   She blushed at that and mumbled “I guess.”

I laughed at her response and said, “come on, after school we can go get our own ice cream.”

This is not a date. This is not a date. This is not a date. I had to forcibly remind myself that Cara and I were just friends. She didn’t like me like that. Even if she did, she’d just gotten out of a relationship and she didn’t need to jump right into another. But as much as I kept repeating those words to myself another part of my brain said; this totally could be a date. I mean we were sitting opposite each other sharing a gigantic cheesecake flavored ice cream. We were laughing and she was kicking my feet with hers under the table. We had even changed out of our school uniform and into our dance clothes for our 5 o’clock lesson.

A natural lull in the conversation happened and I said, “Hey Cara? You never did tell me what you had Hayden had been fighting about. Only that your break up was a good decision.”

She frowned and said, “you probably weren’t listening.”

I snorted at her lame excuse and retaliated with, “nope I’m not having that. I am the best listener I know. Now stop lying to me and tell me what happened.”

Even though I had clearly insisted on knowing, I hadn’t actually thought I would get through to her. To my great astonishment words came pouring out of her like a waterfall.

“Hayden and I have been dating since I was fourteen. And I guess when you’re fourteen you still have so much to learn and loads of space to grow as a person. In the past year I think I’ve discovered things about myself that I hadn’t even thought of before we first started dating. It was great and a lot of fun but I just felt we were becoming so different you know? But I dreaded the thought of breaking up. I’d have to explain all this to him and I’m awful at these kind of things. So then I thought maybe we didn’t have to break up. Maybe if I slowly introduced him to the new Cara he’d like her just as much as the old one.” With a bitter smile she said, “only he didn’t seem to like her at all. Like, one day I casually mentioned I wanted to dye my hair purple and he absolutely flipped.”

Though I didn’t doubt Cara’s passion for her hair, I didn’t believe that their whole relationship had ended because Hayden preferred brunettes.  

“What else did you tell him?” I asked her softly.

She looked embarrassed but she didn't stop with her story, “Well we were watching The 100 together and I mentioned Lexa was pretty hot. He looked at me funny and asked if I meant that in a platonic way. I laughed and told him that I didn’t think it was possible to have the hots for someone platonically. Long story short we had a very awkward conversation about my sexuality and he couldn't really accept that I was bi. The week before we broke up he was acting insanely jealous towards any girl I spoke to, thinking I felt more for my friends than what I let on. He broke up with me under the pretext that I was in love with someone else.” I could tell that the conversation had forced Cara to talk about her feelings more than she was usually comfortable with.

I tried to lighten the mood by saying, “hey at least your plan worked. You didn’t have to be the one to break up with him.” She laughed even though the joke wasn’t that funny. I could tell she was glad I was taking her revelation so well.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me though!” I playfully whined.

“What, about being bi or breaking up with my boyfriend?”

“Both,” I said grinning.

“I was worried,” she said, “he’d turned my feelings into something ugly, and I thought that other people would too.”

At hearing such a profound sentence from my friend, my natural response was obviously, “well Hayden sucks.” I smiled when I realized I’d made her laugh once again.

Then a thought suddenly came to me and I added, “so who did he think you were in love with?”

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner and said, “ugh you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the giddiness I’d felt at those words or the absurdness of the whole situation that made me laugh hysterically. Either way, we both ended up laughing so hard I was worried ice cream would come squirting out our noses. Through bouts of giggles I managed to say, “oh my god out of all your friends! Why do you think he chose me?” I asked the question in a light hearted way but I was secretly hoping there would be more to her response.

“Probably because you’ve been out of the closet ever since you were twelve! Hayden likes to think he’s some sort of a genius and probably was very proud he was able to match up our gayness. Besides you’re pretty and smart and already have loads of guys and gals wanting to go out with you. What’s one more in the line of admirers eh?” she finished with a cheeky wink.  

Laughing I said, “shut up,” and flicked a spoon of ice cream at her.

She squealed and said, “Rose! I can’t believe you just did that. Ms. Sala is going to murder me when I show up to class with an ice cream stain on my dance clothes.”

Hearing those words I swore and abruptly stood up. “Cara! We have to go!” I switched on my phone which read 4:50. We’d spent over an hour at the ice cream store and now had to rush if we wanted to make it to class in time. Together we sprinted out of the store and headed towards the bus stop. I thanked the universe that the bus arrived as soon as we got there. We dropped into the back row seats and tried to catch our breaths. I looked over at Cara and smiled. I couldn’t help but think today had been a very good day indeed.

#this is a story I wrote almoST two years ago #and I just read it for the first time in ages and thought I would share #It's so weird reading it back and it kinda doesn't sound like me and it also sounds a lot younger? #but I thought people might enjoy it and I want to post more of my own content #also I wrote this for my personal project if any IB kids out there know what I'm takling about ;) #booklr #writeblr #spilled ink #petrawrites #short story #LGBT+ #love story #romance #gay #biseuxal #petrareads

[zapatterson]

I’m already home

Pairing: Patterson x Tasha

Chapter 3: i’m falling around you (AO3)

Chapter 4: this feels like falling in love (AO3)

Chapter 5: like pieces in a puzzle (AO3)

Chapter 6: the fallen hero haunts my thoughts (AO3)

3: i’m falling around you

Through the years, Patterson met a few people whose names start with N. She heard a name during class or read it on the tag of a waitress. And every time, she asked herself if it could be them, she developed a small crush of the person and then nothing happened.

Every time.

Until Neal. She met Neal in the library, only to find out they had a few classes together. By the end of the course, they were dating. They liked each other, they were happy, they were the perfect couple: liked the same things, hated the same things, and had each other's letter.

It was... too perfect. They were too similar. But Patterson convinced herself she was happy. She was sure he was her soulmate.

But then he started acting different, distant. Until one day he told her that he had met another woman. Her name is Emma, he said. I'm sorry, he said. And he left.

She moved out, got into Quantico, and after graduating, got a job in New York. In an impressively short time, she got her own lab and team, becoming the youngest person to reach that. Burying herself into work and hiding the letter with her dad's watch and a few bracelets, Patterson tried to forget about him.

One morning, after a busy week, Patterson fell asleep and didn't have time to prepare breakfast, so, on the way to work, she stopped to pick up some coffee.

On the way out of the line, she bumped into a guy, spilled her coffee and almost fell down. Almost because the guy was fast enough to not let her.

"Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm late for work and I wasn't paying attention... Didn't even see y--"

He laughed, stopping her rambling and making her actually look at him. Uh, he's cute. "It's alright. Are you okay?" He asked, smiling like he couldn't control it, which made her own lips curl up into a similar smile. She nodded as a reply.

After a few seconds of silence, he extended his hand and said "Hi, I'm David. Nice to meet you."

4:  this feels like falling in love

Tasha avoided E's at all cost. She also avoided people with N's, even if their name didn't start with E. Just in case. She dated Megan, who had a J. She dated Michaela, who had an L. She dated Lana, who had a K. None of the relationships lasted but, at the end of the day, avoiding "forever" was why she dated them. The only E she ever let herself think about was Eve, and she knew she wasn't Eve's soulmate. But maybe Eve was hers?

Anyway. Soulmates aren't real so it doesn't matter.

She met Megan at a bar the night after her grandma saw the letter. Tasha needed a break after the long conversation with the woman and Eve was with Alex, so she went to a bar where no one would know her.

The waitress was cute and smiled at her a few times, but Tasha's eyes were set on a girl sitting with two guys at a table on the other side of the bar. The girl kept glancing her way when she thought Tasha wasn't looking, and looking away if their eyes met, until it happened so many times that she stopped looking away and instead smirked.

After about ten minutes of looking at each other from afar, Tasha, making sure the girl noticed, went into the bathroom. She was followed by the girl a minute later. The second they were both in, Tasha pushed her against the door and kissed her hungrily, hands on her hips. The girl kissed back instantly, holding onto Tasha's hair and pulling her closer. Tasha rolled the girl's shirt up, while slowly breaking the kiss, and saw a little J on the girls hip. Trying to get her breathing back to normal, she asked "What's your name?"

"Megan."

Tasha smirked before saying "Good. I'm Tasha."

They dated for a few months. Until Tasha left to join the academy.

She met Michaela in a coffee shop.

The first time they were both there, Michaela didn't even see her. But Tasha did, and she thought she had never seen someone so beautiful before.

The second time, their eyes met when Michaela was leaving. Tasha smiled at her and the other girl stared for a few seconds before shaking her head and looking away.

By the fifth time, she smiled back.

By the eighth, they knew each other's name.

By the twelfth, they went in together. They started to hang out together outside of the coffee shop. But they didn't make the next step. Tasha flirted. A lot. And every time, Michaela would smile but look away shyly. It was like she wanted it but was terrified. At one point, she almost kissed Tasha, but in the last second, she stopped herself and ran away.

It was after a pretty rough day in med school that she finally stopped over thinking. She burst into Tasha's apartment and told her she was terrified but that she was tired of pretending. She told her that she didn't know if it would work, that she'd probably make it harder and that she knew they weren't soulmates but that it didn't matter. She told her that she was only sure of one thing, she liked Tasha.

When Tasha joined the 96th precinct and Michaela left med school, they tried to keep a long distance relationship. It didn't work.

She met Allie during a joined case between the NYPD and the FBI. Tasha and Allie didn't date but they became good friends pretty fast. Allie was dating a coworker named Kurt and they had each other's letters. Still something didn't feel right. They were too alike, they were always fighting. It wasn't working. After a big fight, a few weeks of silence and some alcohol, Allie and Tasha ended up in bed together. Afterwards, when they were pretty much sober, Tasha asked, drawing circles in Allie's naked back, around the K, "So... how's Kurt?"

Allie sighed, rolled in bed until her back was pressed against it. "I don't know. We haven't talked in weeks."

"Do you still think he's your soulmate?"

Allie groaned. "You know, for someone who claims to not believe in soulmates, you sure as hell talk a lot about them... Are you sure you don't want one?"

Tasha rolled her eyes and started kissing Allie's neck to avoid having that conversation. (Because as much as she hated it, a part of her did want a "forever".)

After her partner died, her life became a mess. She started gambling and drinking too much. She had lost her purpose in life. It wasn't until Allie suggested she joined the FBI, that she got it back.

She met Lana in quantico. They were roommates. Lana had a K tattooed behind her right ear. Lana had a pretty rough childhood too. She had lost a friend too. Lana understood her pain.

It didn't take long until the hours of hand in hand training turned into make out session. On private, of course.

It lasted until their training at quantico was over.

"Where will you go?"

"Chicago. You?"

"Back to New York."

5:  like pieces in a puzzle

Writer’s notes: This chapter stops being past tense because it's not backstory anymore (well it kind of is but shh)

Also I refuse to accept that reade is younger than tasha and patterson is older. It's on reverse here. (The mark appears when your soulmate turns 18 in my version)

It's Tasha's first day and she's nervous. She's more nervous than she has ever been. Why is she even this anxious? She has changed her outfit three times. She never takes more than ten minutes to get ready. Fucking first days...

When she arrives to the building, she double checks four times if she's in the right one and what floor she has to go to.

She's supposed to wait for "Reade". But... where?

After bumping with a few people, she decides the doors of the elevators are not a good spot to wait. Taking a look at the place, she concludes there's nowhere to sit without taking someone's chair and nowhere to stand without being in the middle. And-- oh a guy is approaching her. Please be Reade...

Once he reaches her, he starts "Hey, you must be Natasha Zapata, right? I'm Edgar Reade, I'm gonna be your partner." He extends his hand for a handshake.

Tasha freezes.

So here's the good part: he is Reade. But here's the bad part: his name is Edgar.

"Um... are you okay? Are you not Natasha?" He asks at the lack of response, taking his hand away.

She gets out of her shock, runs a hand over her hair and answers "yeah, uh, sorry. I'm Natasha, yes. Well, Tasha." This time she's the one to extend her hand. "Nice to meet you, Edgar."

He accepts the hand shake and continues. "Everyone calls me Reade. Come on, I'll show you around."

-----------------------------------------------------

"And this is the lab. Patterson's lab. If I was you i wouldn't touch anything without her permission..." Reade says as they enter the last room.

He walks to a table set kind of in the center of the room and motions for Tasha to follow him. "Morning, Patterson." He tells to a girl that is typing in a computer next to the table, back towards them.

"Morning, Reade." Answers the girl, not even turning around to look at him, too busy with whatever she's doing. It makes Tasha smile a little.

He looks exasperated. "Patterson. Do you wanna meet my new partner?"

At that she turns around. "Uh?" She looks confused at first and then her eyes land on Tasha. When their eyes meet, Patterson lights up. Her eyes look brighter and her lips curl up in a gorgeous grin. She separates from the computer and moves towards her. "Hi, I'm Patterson. Welcome to the team."

Tasha is... not breathing. She stopped the second the girl turned around. Her mouth is half open and dry. She forces herself to close it and smiles back. Clears her throat and says "Thanks. I'm.. Zapata. Tasha. Tasha Zapata." For fuck's sake, Tash... control your gayness.

The girl smiles even brighter, which Tasha didn't think was possible.

Before anyone can say anything else, another guy enters the lab. "Reade. Patterson. We got a case. SIOC in five." He says right before noticing the new girl. "Oh. Hello. Are you..."

"My new partner, yeah. Tasha Zapata." Reade intervenes. "Tasha, this is Kurt Weller, head of the Critical Incident Response Group."

"Hi...wait. You're... Kurt? Allie's Kurt?"

He looks at her surprised "You know Allie?"

"Yeah, we're friends."

"Uh... small world." He says thinking deeply, trying to see if Allie had ever mentioned a Tasha. "Well. Let's go, we have a case to solve."

Patterson smiles at Tasha passing by her side. "Your first case. May the force be with you." She says winking at her.

Tasha can see Reade rolling his eyes and Weller frowning, but she can't help the genuine smile that appears on her lips at the girl's nerdiness (probably her first genuinely happy smile since Andy's death) and the blush as a reaction to the wink.

The following months go by fast. Soon she stops feeling like the new one and becomes part of the team. It's like she's always been a part of it.

She and Reade become very close friends very fast. She feels like she can trust him with her life.

Kurt becomes a big brother to her. One that wants to protect her but also knows her value and uses it for the team's advantage.

And Patterson... she falls deeper and deeper in love with Patterson every day. She tells herself it's a simple crush because she's cute and she's pretty much the only girl she works with. But when she's with her, everything is better. She's happier.

By her second year, she's convinced Patterson is straight and her "crush" will never be more than that. Tasha also managed to discover that Reade has an S and not an N, so she knows she's not his soulmate. After making some research, she finds out about platonic soulmates, and convinces herself that her partner is hers.

It's during Tasha's fifth year that the blonde meets David.

Around the sixth year, a woman appears naked and with amnesia inside of a bag in the middle of Times Square, her whole body tattooed and Kurt's name on her back.

6:  the fallen hero haunts my thoughts

Writer’s notes:  I may write a David extra chapter outside of this... like. In this AU but posting it separated... I need sleep.

It happens on a Wednesday. They are having drinks at Jane's safe house. Tasha is late. She arrives last, after deciding she can't betray Jane and her team and breaking Carter's bug.

Not long after she gets there, Patterson gets the call.

They go to the hospital and Mayfair tells them it's too late. He's dead.

Patterson is frozen while each of them hugs her. She's out of herself. Stuck in shock. She asks them to take her home and leave. She tells them she's okay.

That night she doesn't sleep.

----------------------------------------------------

Tasha is ready to go to sleep after one of the longest days in her years at the fbi. Between finding the bitc-- woman that killed David and almost resigning, before finding out Carter disappeared, Tasha is exhausted.

She's getting into her room when there's a knock on the door. Frowning, she takes her gun from the counter, goes to the door and opens it to find Patterson on the other side.

The brunette relaxes and puts the gun away. "Patterson, hey." Looking at her, Tasha frowns again, thinking about how late it is and about how lost Patterson looks. "Why are you here? What's wro--" She continues before getting cut by the other girl launching herself into Tasha's arms. Her own arms instantly embracing her with the sound of repressed sob.

As the girl let's the tears out, Tasha leads them both into the apartment and into her room, not letting go of the blonde. They end up laying over Tasha's bed while Patterson sobs and Tasha holds her. She tries to talk a few times but it's impossible to understand, so Tasha just soothes her.

Once the sobbing has stopped and the tears have been reduced to sniffs and hiccups, they lay on their sides face to face. Tasha is brushing her hair, when Patterson finally talks. "I-I thought it would help. Finding her- but. I'm just... empty."

"I know." Tasha says, remembering how she felt when Andy died.

After some seconds, the blonde continues. "I loved him." She says as silent tears start falling again.

Tasha reaches forward to wipe the tears away and whispers "I know."

"I pu-pushed him away. Because I was afraid and I-- He- He wasn't my soulmate. We knew that. We both knew that. But- it didn't matter. W-we didn't care." She's feeling the knot in her throat come back. Before continuing, she tries to stop the tears by closing her eyes and whiling them with her whole palm. "He wasn't my soulmate but... he did have an E in his ankle." It's getting harder and harder to talk. So much that she doesn't realize how Tasha's hand stops moving over her hair at the mention of the letter, how her mouth hangs open and her eyes widen right before she gulps and takes a deep breath, how she shakes her head, telling herself now is not the time to freak out about the fact that apparently she fell in lo-- got a crush on a girl whose name starts with E and that she can do it the next day, after doing some digging about Patterson's first name. "So maybe I was his soulmate even if he wasn't mine."

Those last words are the trigger for the sobs to return. Tasha brings her back into her arms and holds her until she falls asleep. She falls soon after.

#blindspot #patterson #pattata #sometimes I write #tasha zapata

[lichfucker]

I'm 23 and I'm only just beginning to wonder if I'm a lesbian.. how do you know?

first of all let me just say that it’s completely normal for you to only start questioning at 23. you’re not “too late,” you’re not “behind the curve,” nobody can get upset with you (least of all yourself!) for not having “figured it out” sooner. you might never really “figure it out.” and that’s okay, too! questioning can be a lifelong process, especially for lesbians; compulsory heterosexuality and conventional narratives about women’s experiences in heterosexual relationships tend to make it particularly difficult for lesbians to figure out whether or not they’re actually attracted to men in any capacity.

compulsory heterosexuality is basically the idea that straightness is assumed and enforced by patriarchal society. obviously a big part of this is straightness being considered the “default” and anything else a deviation from the norm (y’know the way straight people can look at a 2-year-old can call him a “ladykiller”), but particularly for lesbians compulsory heterosexuality includes the idea that we must like and want men (because under patriarchy, a woman’s worth is based on being sexually available to men) and if we find ourselves not liking or wanting men then we must not be trying hard enough. under patriarchy, we’re fed this notion that (straight) relationships are meant to be emotionally unfulfilling for us-- that we’re meant to be stressed and uncomfortable and unhappy, because to be a man’s wife is to be his mother but also have sex with him, to take care of him because he is a man who needs our help-- that we should expect to give and give and give and receive little in return. we’re told that being with men is supposed to be frustrating. so it can be especially difficult to find that line between “I’m unhappy in this relationship because that’s how this relationship is supposed to be” and “I’m unhappy in this relationship because I don’t want to be with men at all.”

(to illustrate this: a good friend of mine, when we were 13, had a “crush” on one of our other friends. when this friend started to like him back, they went on one “date,” and he didn’t feel right about it, and he asked himself “why don’t I like her? I should be liking her at this point” and that’s how he realized he was gay. when I kissed a boy for the first time at 15, my immediate thought was “kissing is weird and kind of gross, why do people do this?” and I was so uncomfortable being with him that I didn’t want to tell anybody we were together and in a panic I broke up with him in a text message when he asked me to come over to his house and meet his parents. later that year I realized I liked girls, but it took another 3 years before I realized I was a lesbian. when my friend found himself not liking the girl he was supposed to like, he could immediately identify it as a sign of his gayness. when I found myself not liking the boy I was supposed to like, I thought that he was just the wrong boy.)

because compulsory heterosexuality mandates that we must like men, that we must carve out space to let men romantically and sexually into our lives, a lot of lesbians have a lot of male celebrity crushes and crushes on male fictional characters-- or even just men in our real lives who are inappropriate or completely unavailable to us. this way we can say, “see, look! I definitely like boys! I have a crush on dav/eed d/ggs!” while also being safe in the assumption that nothing will ever happen between you and dav/eed d/ggs, because you will never be in a situation where being in a relationship with him is possible or appropriate. if you find yourself crushing on celebrities or fictional characters, or people you know who are otherwise taken or unavailable (I had a crush on one boy for, like, 2 years, and I chose him deliberately because I knew he had a crush on one of my friends and I knew he would never settle for me as long as she was still around), you may be a lesbian.

related: if you find yourself deliberately choosing men to have crushes on, rather than letting feelings for them develop naturally, you may be a lesbian. off the top of my head, I can think of three separate instances where I went “I don’t have a crush on anybody? oh no, I need to have a crush on somebody” and looked around the room and picked someone, and two separate instances where other people approached me and said “it’s really obvious you have a crush on x” and I said “oh I guess you’re right” and took it as fact. this is also compulsory heterosexuality at work.

I mention this because, for me, just starting to be cognizant of my attraction to women (the first crush on a girl I recognized as a crush was when I was 15) wasn’t enough to make me say “I’m a lesbian.” I looked back at my lifetime of comp het and went “ahh, I see what this is, I’m bisexual.” obviously there’s nothing wrong with being bi, and there are plenty of people who think they’re lesbians but later discover that they’re actually bi. but that wasn’t the case for me. I just took it at face value: “I’ve ‘liked’ boys before, so I can’t be a lesbian.” and that isn’t always true! many lesbians have liked and been with men because of comp het, and many lesbians have liked and been with men because they were at one point attracted to men but have since become lesbians, perhaps through trauma or just through identities and preferences changing over time.

if you find yourself in a position where most of your friends aren’t cis or straight, there’s a really good chance you may also not be cis or straight. like 9 out of the 10 friends I had in middle and high school turned out not to be straight, and so being in an environment where I was surrounded particularly by other lbpq women made it a lot easier to accept that I liked girls, because it made sense that I would have yet another thing in common with all of these people around me.

this was both a blessing and a curse in that in high school I never questioned that I was bi. I only ever talked about or emphasized  my attraction to women, because, among other things, “attraction to women” was a big unifying factor for my friend group, so I never examined the attraction to men I thought I’d had. it actually wasn’t until college, where I ended up spending a lot of time with one straight girl in particular, that I realized I don’t actually like men at all. she spent an entire school year gushing to me about boys she liked or had met on dating apps or whatever, and it took me months of saying “him? really? he’s so... average-looking and boring” about a wide variety of men (so it wasn’t just that my “type” was different from hers) before I realized, oh, no man in a very long time has made me actually feel anything, compared to the dozens of women I see walking across the quad every day who are so beautiful they give me heart palpitations.

so for me, personally, that’s how I knew I was a lesbian: my love for women was irrefutable, while my “attraction” to men couldn’t stand up to any sort of scrutiny. but that process took a long time, and it was difficult, and it felt like shit-- if you scroll back in my blog to april of last year (... don’t, though) I made a bunch of 4 am crisis posts crying, “deciding I was bi had been so easy, why is thinking of myself as a lesbian so hard? why does this change suck? why do I feel so bad about the idea that I don’t want to be with men?” (you can probably guess why, after a lifetime of directly and indirectly being told that I had to want to be with men, I felt bad about not wanting to be with men).

anyway, your journey will, inherently, look different from mine, because we have different lives and different experiences. there’s no one right way to be a lesbian. questioning might be hard, and it might take a while, and that’s okay! and if you come out of this experience and realize, no, you’re not a lesbian, that’s okay, too! and it’s okay if you decide you want to shelf this and come back to it later. there’s no rush. there’s no deadline you have to meet. nobody is gonna tell you you’re not allowed to be a lesbian if you didn’t figure it out before you turned 25. I promise.

please feel free to come back and talk to me again any time you like. I love you. you’re gonna be fantastic.

#Anonymous #long post //// #bluh bluh #sex mention / #compulsory heterosexuality / #I hope this helped!!

[thesnhuup]

Pop Picks – July 23, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.

What I’m reading:

Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.

What I’m watching:

Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.

  Archive

June 11, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.

What I’m reading:

The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.

What I’m watching:

The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.

May 24, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.

What I’m reading:

Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.

What I’m watching:

I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.

April 27, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.

What I’m reading:

I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.

What I’m watching:

I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.

March 18, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.

What I’m reading:

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.

What I’m watching:

Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 

March 8, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.

What I’m reading:

Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.

What I’m watching:

The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

  November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

  November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

  September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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#President's Corner #SNHUblogs

[abdifarah]

Beyoncé Gives and Beyoncé Takes. Blessed be the Name of Beyoncé

Years ago I attended this fancy gala in Miami honoring famed Russian dancer and activist Mikhail Baryshnikov. The party boasted a live band fronted by a 50 something blond lady in a blue pants suit (think Hillary Clinton) that performed every top 40 song on the radio at the time. Its was 2005 so think, Lil’ Jon, Usher, Gwen Stefani, and Britney Spears. Contrary to their Ann Taylor/Brooks Brothers appearance, the band killed it, putting to shame the original performers. The lead singer (again, think Hillary Clinton) even spit all the rap verses. And without needing to grade on a curve (generally a given for white rappers), the flow was official. Beyoncé’s shape shifting performances across Everything Is Love reminded me of that party. But like the lady in the pants suit belting out, To the window, to the wall, til the sweat drips down my balls, there is something unsettling about a musical assassin the likes of Beyoncé absorbing and redeploying everyone else’s best moves like a berserking T-1000.

Everything Is Love plays like an immaculately curated jukebox, sifting choice samples and quotes from all of your other favorite artists, and as a bonus you get Beyoncé performing it all. A line here, a turn of phrase or dialect there, Everything Is Love and Lemonade before it lay bare a treasure chest of Beyoncé’s stylistic conquests and acquisitions, gathered throughout years of pop music pillaging. And like the raiders of the artifacts of oceania or King Tutankhamun's tomb that now populate the world’s museums, she didn’t ask. I commiserate with Jacobim Mugatu exasperatedly explaining to the world that Blue Steel and Le Tigre were the same look! I would regularly interject during the radio deluge that was Lemonade in 2016 that the refrain from Beyoncé’s revenge anthem Hold Up was eerily close to Karen O’s on the Yeah Yeah Yeahs classic ballad Maps. Hold up they don’t love you like I love you///Wait, they don’t love you like I love you.

On Friends, Bey smoothly rap/sings, “fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool, fuck you,” quoting Kid Cudi. Instantly recognizable from the sacred text, A Kid Named Cudi, the artist’s early mixtape, which remains a charmed relic witnessing Cudi’s as yet unreached potential. Over the past few weeks I have heard a number of people quoting that line, and from the sassy smirk on their faces as they speak the lines I know that they are embodying Beyoncé and not Cudi. In my Shang Tsung voice: the line is now hers. On Apeshit Beyoncé and Jay-Z do Migos better than the Migos, ad-libs and all. To make the stunt even more stuntful, the actual Migos are on the song trying desperately to keep up. I imagine the Atlanta trio in the studio with huge grins tinged with a bit of fear watching Bey mimic their style to perfection while adding a little stank to it for good measure.

Track to track the campaign of conquest continues. Heard About Us is literally a SZA song, down to SZA’s particular pronunciation of the N-word – Nikas. Not to be left out, Jay gets in on the action, quoting Common’s line from Erykah Badu’s Love of My Life, “Y'all know how I met her/ We broke up and got back together/To get her back, I had to sweat her,” not once but on two different songs! In summary, The Carters be stealin’. But it may be impossible for artists as prolific and influential as the Beyoncé and Jay-Z to steal. Beyoncé can make a SZA song, no questions asked, because SZA probably doesn’t exist with Beyoncé. On Nice Bey raps, “I give you life!” Beyoncé, like the God of Job, giveth and taketh freely. The rampant, borderline problematic, appropriation of this peak career Beyoncé and late career – yet still razor sharp – Jay-Z (last year’s 4:44 may be his best album, just saying) is The Carters ultimate flex.

The story goes Marvin Gaye originally wanted to sing the American songbook like Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett, but save for a few exceptions like Nat King Cole and Sammy Davis Jr. black men were not easily granted this venerated position within the music industry: to have your voice so purely appreciated and be so celebrated and accepted for who you are that you had the honor of singing only the standards. Not burdened with the added pressure of writing and arranging, these mavens were liberated to explore and perfect the full artistry of their voice. On Everything is Love The Carters avenge Gaye, subsuming and filtering the whole of pop music into their version of singing the standards. Jay-Z for one has been on a career long mission of righting historical wrongs. One 2001’s Izzo off the seminal The Blueprint, Jay raps, “I’m overcharging niggas for what they did to the Cold Crush;” a forerunning hip hop group egregiously exploited by record company executives. The Louvre, the site of the Apeshit video serves as the perfect fortress for the Carter coup. All culture, from high art to trap music, is theirs to do with as they please. The Louvre after all simultaneously represents the best of human artistry as well as serving as the consummate shrine to imperialism. Everything in the building – the Nike, the Venus De Milo, even the Mona Lisa – arrived there through some wresting of power and shift in dominion.

Everything is Love is not about music, though the music is fun. It's a corporate merger bordering on monopoly, and the two principals can not be bothered by human sized questions like originality or who said or did what first. This is enterprise level. Steal the technology, rename it Instagram Stories and bet the consumers will ultimately stay at home with their preferred providers, Bey and Jay, instead of toggling between apps. Even the title Everything is Love sounds like ad copy for some behemoth brand, dogma from a hollywood cult, or the utterance of an actual deity; Mr. Manhattan hovering both over the globe and between every atom, seeing things at such a macro and micro level that birth and death, a summer breeze or nuclear blast, individualist capitalism and collective communist revolt all become one. Identities merge. On Black Effect Jay-Z vaunts, “I’m Malcolm X!” Two verses later Beyoncé proclaims, “I’m Malcolm X!” The transitive property in all its splendor. Beyoncé spanning gender tells the sycophants to “get off my dick.” In the prelude to Black Effect, my favorite song on the album, an older lady with a Caribbean accent expounds on the mysteries of love, concluding that love for all mankind should be the culmination of things. Perhaps this love for all mankind, and not some myopic power move, is the ultimate goal of Beyoncé and Jay-Z and the higher purpose behind all of the stealing, and appropriation, and craven capitalism. Beyoncé doesn’t want to steal from SZA, she thought CTRL was dope and wanted to make some music just as good. Bey likes A Kid Named Cudi just as much as your college roommate did. And while Jay doesn’t casually throw compliments toward other rappers, he regularly reminds that he’s a fan of Common* and even if the world does not think of him in the list of the greats, Jay does. At a time when borders are becoming less malleable, conservatives and liberals must stay in discreet boxes and feign hatred for fear of appearing traitorous, genuine love and enthusiasm gets you labelled a Stan, and the slightest whiff of cultural appropriation is abruptly stamped out, Beyoncé and Jay-Z want everybody to lighten the fuck up. Feel free to try on someone else’s style, root for a country other than your own in the World Cup, vote on behalf of someone else and not just in your own interests, grab your dick and go apeshit while still being a lady, or strap on an apron like Darius and get in touch with your inner auntie by putting your foot in some greens. In the end everything is love.

#beyonce #jayz #everything is love #sza #atlanta #kid cudi #yeah yeah yeahs #migos

[time-fury]

Why I did Movember - My Shame

When someone says they have an interest in something, I firmly believe that means the subject has in some way affected that person. For example, if someone were so say they had an interest in feminist studies, the chances are that person has in someway been affected by the patriarchy we find ourselves living in. So when, at the start of this month, I said I would be growing facial hair to raise awareness of the failing mental health of young gay men, my motives were not entirely altruistic. Nor is it simply down to the fact that I am myself a young gay man. I feel the need to preface this with a disclaimer that this is entirely built around my own personal experience, and that nothing I describe here has been in any way verified by an actual medical professional. So if you read anything that causes offence, I did not intend it so. It’s essentially public knowledge now that gay people are actually pretty accepted, and on the whole we know this as well, but there is still a lot that we don’t speak about that, even in todays quite open society. So while yes, gay men have full and unlimited equal rights in law, that doesn’t necessarily make us equal citizens. I came to this realisation on my first walk for Movember. As I walked around the grounds of Llandaff Cathedral, I found myself thinking about my life growing up as a devout Catholic and gay boy/teenager. This was a rabbit hole of thought that led me to come to the conclusion that while gay men have full legal equality, gay boys (especially religious ones) are second-rate citizens. Gay men can get married, whereas gay boys are rarely taught beyond heterosexual nuptials. Gay men can go for regular HIV check-ups, whereas gay boys are barely educated on what HIV is. Gay men can fall in love, but gay boys are almost never taught about even the potential of not dating a woman. Sex is still for man and wife, with the sole purpose of procreation, and anything outside of this is fraught with risks. Gay sex automatically means a higher risk of contracting a deadly disease, and anyone who is gay is signing themselves up for a life apart from everyone around them. Things are getting better, but better doesn’t mean best. So long as this isn’t the best it can be, gay boys will suffer. While the current climate is not overtly homophobic, its institutions are dragging its heels and continuing to force a deeply rooted shame on gay boys that they may never get over. The isolation this system imposes is certainly something that has affected me deeply. As the month went on I looked back over the parts of my life that I can remember, and I found myself noticing just how much I have changed as a result of these factors. I’ll admit I was never the chattiest child, preferring the solitary company of a book or a CBBC drama to playing football with the boys. But I was (despite my eyesight issues) an excellent observer. I saw boys and girls giggling to the side of the playground, kissing each other on the cheek under the stairs in secret, or behind the wall of the older years playground. So, while not understanding what all the fuss was about, I played along. Whatever girl I was closest to was branded a “crush”, which I assumed it must be. This seems to be a common trend, gay boys pretending to like girls until they come out, freed from those lies, but it’s actually incredibly damaging. With myself, I found that I questioned every close relationship with a girl. I would interrogate myself about how I felt, why it wasn’t right, why I wasn’t right, and why I kept looking at that boy over there instead. Every platonic friendship becomes a quest to force a crush, and every crush becomes a quest to force platonic friendship. And if young people don’t allow themselves to feel what they want to feel, it’s going to be difficult, if not impossible, to shake that when they are fully-grown. Every time they fall in love it’s tainted by the deeply rooted shame surrounding their first love. If you want to look at why some gay men take such risks when having sex, that might be a good place to start looking. Another obvious place to look is in the education. While young gay boys are in the throes of puberty, juggling their schoolwork with their own sexual and emotional crisis, they have nowhere to turn for guidance. Now this is of course not the case in many schools these days, so this part is where my own personal experience takes over. It is difficult, sitting in a room of thirty people, being taught about sex, and feeling like the only one not learning anything. The boys are all sniggering about vaginas together, and the girls are grimacing at the idea of childbirth, and none of it really means anything to me. There was brief talk of condoms (Catholic school), and the pros and cons of safe sex. There was a talk on various STI’s and how they’re contracted (all with the Catholic “don’t do this” angle), and there was a lot on the process of pregnancy. The only thing I vividly remember was how my stomach turned when AIDS and HIV were mentioned, which of course meant the introduction of homosexuality to the module. It was blink and you miss it. Gay means AIDS, let’s move on. There was nothing on the mechanics of sex, and certainly no notion that whatever it was could occur in a loving relationship. So what’s a young gay boy to do? Of course, turn to the internet. An introduction to a topic defines someone’s interest. If you gave an infant a copy of Moby Dick, they’d never read again. If your first exposure to sex is two guys meeting in the woods to have casual, unprotected sex, I think you can see how that would define your approach to sex. It’s dirty, it’s sleazy, it’s dangerous, and you put your penis where?! If you want to know how bad sexual education is for young gay people, I’ll tell you this: I didn’t know what lube was or how to use it until the age of eighteen, I didn’t know how to put a condom on until the day before I had sex for the first time, and I didn’t realise there was a way of cleaning your systems out before sex until I was twenty. This lack of education could have led to some serious risks being taken without me even knowing they were risks. My lack of knowledge may come as a surprise to some who once upon a time saw me as an expert, which brings me onto the next topic of how mental health in young gay men is fucked. For most, our limited knowledge has come from the internet, be that porn or Youtubes countless coming out videos, we have no real concept of the LGBT community, and we have been harbouring secret loves since the dawn of our memories. But then the doors to that closet open, the confetti guns go off, you step out into the light, and things just become a different kind of shit. Now, you’re an expert. You’re in the limelight, the gay best friend, and in my case for a couple of years, the only gay in the school. This is immense pressure for a newly out boy, as this is something deeply personal we have decided to share with the world. While the relief is immense, it does take some time to get used to. We aren’t afforded that luxury however, or at least I wasn’t, as the lack of education became glaringly obvious. I wrote a line in a play recently that said, ��I had always known I liked boys in the way that other boys liked girls. But being gay? That’s different.” Up until this point, being gay was a petty playground insult, but now it had a face. And as the only gay face in the school, I was the only one to turn to when people had questions. The only problem being I went to the same school as them, so I was as in the dark as a lot of the people asking me. Sometimes I think I came out too soon, but that’s bollocks. I just came out before I realised what it meant. It triggered another personality crisis, as I began to struggle with the idea of living under this label. Another battle to fight alone, as now everyone expected me to be an LGBT expert. Thankfully I was never seriously bullied, but you can report bullies, you can’t report institutionalised abandonment. Something else you can’t report is a broken heart. I won’t talk too much about the first time I fell in love as I imagine it’s a story heard a thousand times before. Ask any gay man and he’ll probably have a story about the straight boy in high school. My own version of this tale is relatively passive, through years of supressing my feelings, before accepting them for what they were, and then still having to repress them as he’s straight. Balance that with those who know telling me to hold out hope, it was an emotional rollercoaster of a few years. It climaxed with a story I am still unable to verify. After six years of evolving feelings, he found out, and apparently showed a side that put me off him forever, as he became enraged by the idea of a boy being in love with him. I will say that on the matter. I was in love. For years of my life I was in love, but the environment I was in forced me to repress those feelings, ones that have thus far not resurfaced. This pressure, along with the conventional pressures of GCSE’s, puberty, and with other events out of my control, I ended up in student support therapy sessions. These sessions were essentially the result of a perfect storm that also involved a heavy dose of toxic masculinity, a broader topic I won’t discuss here. I ended up stopping these sessions after roughly two-to-three months, as I felt they were actually adding to my worries, not eliminating them. By the time I turned eighteen, I feel I’d been officially fucked. I was going to university, a hub of gayness, exams, independence, and sexual liberation, and I was in no way prepared. My exposure to the gay world had been tainted by my education, both sexual and religious, by the continued camp and/or depressing representation in film and TV, online porn, and Grindr. I was caught between two worlds, the heterosexual world I’d climbed my way out of, and the LGBT community that felt too far the other way. I had no home in the Church, and having one foot in the closet at home meant I didn’t really feel comfortable there either. Being eighteen seems a long time ago now. But the effects of my childhood are still affecting me today. The repression of my first love has meant that I find myself incapable of exposing myself to that feeling again. The secrets I have kept throughout my life have left me untrustworthy of anyone, including myself, and has tainted my personality beyond belief. I have become bitter and sarcastic in a desperate attempt to hide my actual personality, something I got a glimpse of for the first time back in February to June of this year. My lack of emotional stability has left me looking for the next best thing on an app that I hate, but have become reliant on for human contact however brief. I find emotions themselves incredibly exhausting, and increasingly the notion of getting out of bed in the morning is becoming an arduous task. My passion for writing is waning, and my personality is increasingly impulsive and addictive. I’m not blaming being gay on these issues, but it has certainly been a contributing factor. I only faced up to my issues at the end of university, forced to admit it by my lecturers. I am ashamed. I love men, but I am ashamed to be gay. But I think more importantly, I am lost. I am still that eighteen year old with nowhere to call home, caught between the world he knew and the world he’s yet to explore. So why did I do Movember? Why do I think the mental health of gay boys is worth the walks? Why is it close to my heart? It’s, selfishly, because of me. And while this post is long and rushed, it’s barely scratched the surface of the issues facing young gay boys. It’s sex, it’s relationships, it’s self-worth, it’s friends and family, it’s education, it’s politics, and most importantly, it’s incredibly personal. So long as I have this beard, I will fight for those gay boys, but first I ‘ve got to fight for this one.

#Movember #Gay #education #LGBT #My movember #This piece is long and doesn't address the issues but I needed to put this out there #Gay men #Coming Out

[strangechild13-blog]

My story

When I was a younger child, because I am always a child at heart. But this is from I was like 5 until about 10 But when I was younger I never really fitted in with girls , up until I was about 7 all my best friends were boys and then after that I had lots of friends that were girls I always kinda considered them perfect delicate flowers, and I struggled for there approval and tried to be more like them I thought they were 'cooler' because they more girly If I ever had a close relationship with a 'best friend' I always thought of myself as the dopey less cool and popular one and that they were the cool pretty one I was just naturally a bit masculine I was always very protective of my friends , I always needed there approval because they were 'cooler' and at times I was a little clingy I always cared about my friends and showed it more than they did I got used to being the worthless not as cool person in a friendship And I got used to close friendships not being mutual And I got used to just predicting that everything my friends did were cooler than me I always thought the prettier more 'girly' girls were perfect and I wanted to be just like then..now I wanna be like myself, and be with a 'girly' girl I was never like other girls, I am very in touch with my feelings but I am less emotional When i was about 10 I moved to a new school..it was a new start, a blank canvas So obviously I wanted to be like the perfect girls in my old school so I really tried but I really wasn't like them ..on my first day I wore my skirt too long because I wasn't used to wearing a uniform, I wasn't naturally drawn to pink things like all the other ten year old girls were. Lots of girls there gave me advice and by the end of the year I was a lot more girly. I still had the need for other girls approval and struggled a lot to be myself When I was 11 I moved to a new school again, and I was my new girly self and I liked boys (kinda) I guess I thought some were cute, and I can still recognise a cute boy, I first kissed a boy when I was like nine which was weird because he was one of my closest friends. (All my experiences with guys have been pretty shit, it never feels as right or natural as it does with a girl. I didn't know that then) I've always kinda wanted to be the one in a relationship to sweep someone of there feet (typically the boy role ) It was like that in best friend relationships too , I always was the one to go the extra mile and make them feel special , they were always the perfect pretty one. Anyway back to my second new school, for some weird reason people liked me? Lots of guys liked me and I had close friends that appreciated me.(got jealous over each other because of me! what?) Naturally I tried to be as popular as I could and I never experienced that feeling before ..I was always rejected by everyone but surprisingly during this time I actually rejected a friend which was very strange for me (and mean) I would buy things because they were pretty and trendy I had beautiful long blonde hair I was very 'straight' I was always very open and straight forward talking about sex and cursing , I wasn't exactly trying to be cool or mature it was just the way I was, and I am still a lot like that, I don't exactly find it hilarious but I make a lot of sex jokes and I have a pretty dirty mind, kinda like a dude . I am pretty vulgar and not afraid to say fuck FUCK FUCK (and I know that intimidates a lot of people). I never felt like being a guys delicate flower or beautiful princess, I more felt like looking hot or scaring the shit out of them, I thought of all girls as delicate flowers accept Me , I always just thought I was uncool and I always wanted to be like them At the end of that year (6th class) I did something I never did before, I had a crush on a girl, I didn't consider myself gay I just kinda liked her I didn't know her that well , I was a little bit confused ..but then I remember the girl saying something that implied that she thought being gay was weird , that instantly turned me off and I went back to being straight (kinda in denial) and basically didn't think about it again. The next year I started secondary school, I went back to being weird and was rejected by most of my friends and for a bit I didn't have anyone..I had friends I was part of a 'group' of mainly girls where I was basically worthless. I found it really refreshing talking to boys because they were just more simple and confident , I wanted to be friends with more boys but I didn't want anymore than that. I still struggled for girls approval and considered myself uncool but I was a little more myself than before. I think I grew up a little bit more and started to find myself. I also had an obsession with adventure time, and the adventure time character 'marceline' I didn't exactly have a crush on her but I related to her , as in struggling for a girly girls approval. I didn't want to date marceline, I wanted to be like her and I wanted to have my own bubblegum. I then realised ..I AM SO FUCKING GAY! Around that time I started having 'sexual feelings' and I didn't really just like people because they were cute (like how I liked boys before), I wanted to be with girls, I was pulled towards girls and I was attracted to girls , and not boys at all . I started reading lesbian fan fictions and watching gay shows like Steven universe and orange is the new black (lmao) Everything with a girl , every gay couple just felt so right and filled me with confidence. I wasn't struggling for approval anymore , I was me and I was confident and I didn't see the girls around me as perfect anymore I just saw them as different. And I started to like myself for my individuality and I just fucking loved being weird and different. And I didn't give a shit what other girls thought of me instead I wanted to show off my gayness with pride and confidence. I'm so gay GAY GAY GAY GAY! I came out to most of my friends , they were all okay with it and a few of them were gay themselves I then cut my hair short , completely changed my closet and stopped trying to be like other girls. I thought I was 'cool' enough in my own way and I didn't care about my friends approval and I didn't want to be like them anymore . I was me. And I wasn't a delicate flower, and I was okay with that. And that's where I am at now, I wear tank tops , a lot of black ,doc martin boots, baggy army jackets, baggy denim, snap backs and a lot of flannels ,check shirts (I'm very stereotypical) And most importantly I fucking love girls! I'm not exactly out of the closet, as in not everyone at school knows and I wouldn't tell everyone I meet. That's not because I am scared , I just don't feel the need to tell them , I am happy enough just knowing myself (plus I find it amusing when boys like me. I know I'm mean) And if anyone teases me about it or judges me, I don't care anymore because I love myself and I am confident enough now to not care what they think. I have come a long way since I was 10 Gender: a girl who sometimes looks, acts and thinks like a boy Sexuality: lesbian af like AF (but sometimes I say I am bi because then I can join in when talking about boys..but I really am not bi at all).

#lesbian #gay #gay girl #short hair don't care #LGBT #lgbtq #lgbt #lgbtq support #support #love is love #growing up gay #queer #dike #lesbo #stereotypical lesbian #me just being gay #lesbro #this is me okay #just accept me #I'm different and proud #lesbian and proud #enough gay hashtags #now im just going on and on

[thesnhuup]

Pop Picks – June 11, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.

What I’m reading:

The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.

What I’m watching:

The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.

  Archive

May 24, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.

What I’m reading:

Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.

What I’m watching:

I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.

April 27, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.

What I’m reading:

I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.

What I’m watching:

I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.

March 18, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.

What I’m reading:

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.

What I’m watching:

Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 

March 8, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.

What I’m reading:

Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.

What I’m watching:

The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

  November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

  November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

  September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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