#✨{the invisible woman; (echo)

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Evil Eye Book Review 🦇

❓ #QOTD Do you have any superstitions? ❓ 🦇 Raised in a conservative and emotionally volatile Palestinian family in Brooklyn, Yara thought she would finally feel free when she married a charming entrepreneur who took her to the suburbs. With her family balanced with her professional ambitions, Yara knows that her life is infinitely more rewarding than her own mother’s. So why doesn’t it feel like enough? Her mother blames a family curse for the trouble she’s facing, and while Yara doesn’t really believe in old superstitions, she still finds herself growing increasingly uneasy with her mother’s warning and the possibility of falling victim to the same mistakes.

💜 I could spend a year writing this review and it would not convey everything I need to say, nor the vast depth of emotion I felt while reading it. Instead, I'll start by saying thank you. Thank you, Etaf Rum, for a story that captures the complexity of being a Palestinian-American woman and daughter of immigrants. Thank you for illustrating the trauma that can leak from one generation from the next -- trauma we're seeing and feeling in real-time, as Palestinian families continue getting displaced from their homes. Thank you for crafting a woman like Yara, who, despite trying so hard to defy the expectations and limitations set on her, still struggles, because that is the reality of this life. A woman who, despite pain and invisible scars, took a step forward, embarking on a journey of self-exploration and change. Those words, "self-exploration and change," seem so simple. Maybe, to some people, they are. But to women of a certain background, certain upbringing, they seem impossible. From experience, I know what writing these perceptions (both through my own journal entries and through characters) can feel like. It's no easy feat, and takes quite a bit of self-exploration into yourself, the writer. So again, and a thousand times over, thank you. I've seen more of myself, my background, my history, than I could ever express in a review.

💜 Yara says, "I want to be a voice for Palestinians...I want to make people feel seen." Rum writes, "Her whole life, she'd believed reliability would never been granted to someone like her...women like her who were searching for themselves in the art around them, women whose experienced needed to be legitimized." That's what you've done. That's what this story, what Rum and Yara's story, has accomplished.

💙 I do wish we'd seen more positives to the Palestinian-American experience, if not through Yara's life, than through other Palestinians around her. But her isolation was a source of her depression, so I understand why we didn't see how other women like her were living their lives. I also wish we saw more consequences for her husband's actions. Then again, how often are men ever really held accountable?

🦇 Recommended to all readers, namely anyone to learn more about the Palestinian-American experience. Please remember, this is only one perspective, one version, one life. Millions have experienced the same root history; a catalyst that's echoed outward, uniting us through a shared experience. But as Yara said, olive trees grow back twice as large after they're burned to ash.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🧿 Palestinian-American FMC/Author 🪬 Journal Entries 🧿 Feminism 🪬 Literary Fiction 🧿 Mental Health (Depression/Anxiety)/Therapy 🪬 Motherhood 🧿 Trauma/Abuse

💬 Quotes ❝ But she also had dreams of making meaningful work, leaving her mark on the world. She felt certain, in the depths of her being, that something beautiful wanted to be created through her. ❞ ❝ Why didn’t the world recognize that identity and privilege were accidents of birth? How much more empathy would people have if they understood that their position in life was decided not by goodness or merit or fault or need but by luck and chance, a toss of a coin? ❞ ❝ It was because all her life she’d learned to feel safer in obedience than to be free. ❞ ❝ Language was often a bridge, but sometimes a barrier. No matter how she chose her words, they would likely come out a bit distorted, inadequate...Silence was better than being misunderstood, erased, unseen for who you really were. ❞ ❝ Her soul had always been cracked in the center, her body split in two, her feet stretched so wide between opposite sides of the globe that she couldn’t stand straight. ❞

[blackangelmagik]

📚✨ For my literature enthusiasts! ✨📚

🌟 Immerse yourself in the diverse and powerful world of Foundational Black American literature, crafted by the brilliant minds of these influential authors. Join us on an extraordinary literary journey! 🌟

📖 Delve into the hauntingly beautiful "Beloved" by Toni Morrison, where the echoes of slavery intertwine with themes of love, loss, and redemption. Let Sethe's story ignite your imagination and touch your heart. 💔💫https://amzn.to/42njlyr

🎭 Experience the resilience and triumphs of Celie in "The Color Purple" by Alice Walker, a masterpiece that explores the transformative power of love, sisterhood, and self-discovery in the face of adversity. 💜✊🏾https://amzn.to/3IUxFr0

👁️‍🗨️ Uncover the gripping narrative of identity and societal invisibility in "Invisible Man" by Ralph Ellison, a thought-provoking exploration of race, power, and the complexities of the human experience. Witness the protagonist's quest for visibility and self-realization. 🧡🔍https://amzn.to/42gS40l

🕊️ Embark on an extraordinary literary journey with the captivating "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou. Through her vivid prose and poetic voice, Angelou takes us on a profound exploration of resilience, self-discovery, and the pursuit of freedom. Let her words uplift your spirit and leave an indelible mark on your soul. 📚🦜https://amzn.to/45W3HNw

⚖️ Experience the gripping and socially charged "Native Son" by Richard Wright, a searing novel that confronts systemic racism and its devastating consequences. Follow Bigger Thomas' harrowing journey and be confronted with profound questions about justice, morality, and the human condition. ✊🏾❤️https://amzn.to/3WLQpia

💔 Fall in love with Janie's journey to self-discovery and empowerment in "Their Eyes Were Watching God" by Zora Neale Hurston. This lyrical masterpiece celebrates love, freedom, and the resilience of the human spirit, inviting you to reflect on the power of embracing one's true self. 🌺💫https://amzn.to/3qsxKvI

🌍 Engage with the thought-provoking insights of "The Souls of Black Folk" by W.E.B. Du Bois. Du Bois delves into the complexities of race, culture, and identity, highlighting the urgent need for understanding and equality. Let his words challenge your perspectives and ignite meaningful conversations. 📚🤔https://amzn.to/3Nc4r9C

🌎 Feel the urgency and raw honesty in "Between the World and Me" by Ta-Nehisi Coates, a profound letter to his son that navigates the perils of racism and offers a powerful examination of the Black experience in America. Brace yourself for a journey that will provoke introspection and inspire action. ✉️💪🏽https://amzn.to/3oLENzk

🚀 Embark on an extraordinary time-travel adventure with "Kindred" by Octavia Butler, a genre-defying masterpiece that blends science fiction and historical fiction. Experience the gripping tale of Dana, a young Black woman torn between the past and the present, confronting the legacy of slavery and its enduring impact. Let Butler's words transport you through time and leave you mesmerized. 📖🌌https://amzn.to/42rrnGh

🕊️ Journey through the life of Malcolm X in "The Autobiography of Malcolm X," a testament to resilience, self-discovery, and empowerment. Witness his transformative evolution from a troubled youth to an influential civil rights leader, and let his powerful voice guide you towards understanding, empathy, and social change. 🖋️✨https://amzn.to/43iS3KF

✨ Join us in celebrating the profound voices and enduring legacies of these remarkable authors and their groundbreaking works. Their words have shaped literature, challenged societal norms, and inspired generations. Let's honor their contributions to the literary world and embrace the richness of African American literature! 🎉📚

@BlackAngelMagik 🔮

lnk.bio/NboP

#FoundationalBlackAmericanAuthors #LiteraryLegends #InfluentialVoices #DiverseLiterature #PowerofWords

[shadeofjayde]

**Jayde's Day in Whimsyland**

In the land of Whimsy, where colors collide,

Lived a woman named Jayde, with spirit and pride.

Her hair was a rainbow, her laughter a breeze,

And her shoes were adorned with polka-dot trees.

Jayde danced through the meadows, twirling with glee,

Her skirt made of moonbeams, as light as can be.

She sang to the stars, and they twinkled in tune,

While fireflies waltzed 'neath the silvery moon.

Her eyes were like marbles, a kaleidoscope view,

Reflecting the dreams that only Jayde knew.

She rode on a snail, its shell painted gold,

Chasing rainbows and secrets, both young and old.

Jayde had a pet dragon named Fiddlesticks Fred,

Who played jazz on his tail and wore socks on his head.

They sipped tea with the fairies, told jokes to the trees,

And practiced their cartwheels in the soft summer breeze.

Her house was a teapot, perched high on a hill,

With windows of candy and a licorice sill.

Jayde brewed magic potions in cups made of dew,

And invited the moon for a midnight fondue.

She whispered to daisies, confided in bees,

And taught the shy clouds how to dance with ease.

Jayde's laughter echoed through valleys and glens,

As she painted the sky with invisible pens.

So if you ever wander to Whimsyland's gate,

Look for Jayde's footprints—they're never too late.

She'll invite you to twirl, to dream, and to play,

In a world where imagination holds sway.

For Jayde knows the secret, the magical key,

That life is more splendid when lived fancifully.

---

*Note: In the land of Whimsy, Jayde's adventures continue, and her laughter still echoes among the stars.* 🌟✨.

[monmuses]

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)? (Echo)

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying? (Angel)

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", (Iris)

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!

> Echo has heterochromic eyes, her left eye being a light shade of purple and the right eye is light red. Both are different variations of eye colors for those with albinism, and she has inherited both. And their uniqueness is very noticeable to people, since they tend to stick out a lot easier. Though, they don’t really mean much besides traits of albinism, and she unfortunately does not have any magical abilities or other traits attached to them.

> On top of her beauty, Angel is actually pretty good at lying. She never resorts to it, but ONLY if she absolutely has to for serious situations. She knows the signs of what makes someone a liar and avoids it, often sounding truthful when she pushes herself to.

> Iris ABSOLUTELY believes in ghosts. She has seen spirits back home, such as her old ancestors that often roam around the kingdom before she escaped. She has rarely ever spoken to them (and is pretty afraid when confronted with creatures and entities she believes are MUCH stronger than her). She’s very antsy around them to begin with, and is more prone to being spooked.

[latrobe-valley-restaurants]

AMIGO’S RESTAURANT

TRARALGON

I was inspired to start this blog as a result of attending what is quite possibly the worst Mexican restaurant on the planet.

It’s Thursday night. The town of Traralgon is usually bustling, with parking at a premium. Seats in restaurants easy enough to get but a definite busy social vibe.

My partner and I love Mexican food, and were sad to see our favourite Arriba Cantina close down last year, so we finally decided to try Amigo’s Restaurant.

I don’t know how a place can have such a prominent position and yet be tucked away at the same time- but Amigo’s seems to succeed on both counts. It’s in plain sight on the highway that cuts through town, yet nobody seems to know it’s even there. The monolith of a building - bright yellow exterior, neon sign, neo-brutalist feel.

We parked in the generous parking lot which seemed to be packed (I later learned this was owing to the fact that the local centerlink call Center is within the same building.) These weren’t customer cars.

Upon entry into the high ceilinged foyer, we were greeted with what can only be said to be a relic and monument to the 1990’s “themed restaurant” craze. Every Mexican archetype was present, with a 90’s flair.

It felt like a fever dream. This was only the beginning of the spiral into the madness that would ensue.

But first, it was our duty to wait. And wait we did. For there was not a soul in the foyer. The phones did ring l, and I waited hopefully as they rang on, that someone would come to answer them. This did not happen. The foyer leads into a rather charmingly decorated bar, if you like chintzy stereotyped themes. Which was dark. So we thought perhaps they were closed, and had forgotten to lock up.

This was not the case. A subliminal echo of ubiquitously “Mexican” sounding music was piping from an invisible speaker somewhere in the vicinity, and the flashing neon sign on the door assured us that Amigo’s was in fact, ✨OPEN✨.

Finally, a woman came to greet us. She was not in any sort of uniform, but her genial smile and welcoming manner seemed to indicate she worked there. She led us past the bar and into an expansive and stereotypically decorated hall, many tables lined the space. One was filled, with three customers, almost silently munching away, or talking in a hushed tone. Condor cutouts lined the bar, massive sombreros hung from the ceiling. We sat at a small table by the window, feeling a bit like the decor ourselves.

The waitress promptly gave us a battered old drinks menu that must also have come from the 90s, and a laminated sheet of A3, folded and peeling, with their menu printed on. The table was charmingly covered with a Mexican cloth, and the oldest wood burned, varnished cork placemats I had seen this side of the 80s.

She asked if we would like drinks. I asked for a sangrita. The waitress said I probably wouldn’t like it, so I instead ordered a lemon lime and bitters which was nice enough and came fast. My partner ordered water it was wet. So far so good.

We didn’t want an entree, so we both ordered the combination meal consisting of rice, frejoles, taco, enchilada, and taquito. I got beef, my partner got chicken. We ordered some jalapeños and sour cream as a side.

After about ten minutes, our sides oddly came out. Two small ramekins of jalapeños and one of sour cream. I’m not sure what we were expected to do with it at this point. But I love jalapeños so I ate some. Delicious. Obviously canned, but I like canned jalapeños. Not sure it was $4 worth.

After another ten minutes or so I decided to explore the decor, which was luridly enthusiastic. Murals, paintings, figurines, a lot of razzle dazzle. My expectations were not high, I had at this point decided to read some online reviews about this place. One in particular made me laugh out loud, which in this place surely made me seem like a lunatic.

I then decided to use the bathroom, and felt as though I’d found a new level to the backrooms. Doors everywhere, the fever dream progressed. I also noted that the floor tiles matched the old Don Louie’s pizzeria down the road (which has since become a Dante’s) I worked there for a time and can attest to the fact that those tiles are slipperier than black ice when covered in any amount of water. Great choice for a bathroom. I fortunately survived.

The best way to ensure your meal arrives, I find, is to go to the bathroom and have it magically appear on your table upon your return. My trick did not fail me this time. Upon return my partner warned me not to touch the plate. He in turn had also been warned. They were as hot as the seventh level of Hades, he assured me, he had tested it and now sported a small blister for his scientific exploration.

The food was voluminous, and very clearly microwaved. It was served slopped together on a single plate so each item was no clipping into its neighbour. I regret to say I did not get a photo. I was in shock. The pile of rice rivalled K9, which like many others, I failed to summit. Was a fair bit drier, though.

The taquita was as narrow as a straw, filled with dry globs of beef, and somewhat pleasant. Mostly because of the chip. I have no basis for comparison here.

The taco was clearly a store bought shell. Soggy lettuce and tomato, dry and strange tasting pulled beef. Tiny slivers of cheese on top. It was served resting against a quarter of a tomato to keep it upright. This had been partially seared by the scorching plate. I did not finish it.

The frejoles were canned. Tasted like mashed baked beans, and had a rim around them from being microwaved.

The enchilada was soggy. Filled with mysteriously grey and cheesy meat. I mashed it up and ignored it.

Altogether, there was far too much food for me, even if I had enjoyed it. My partner dutifully finished his, regretting every bland bite.

There we decided to wake from the dream, paid $30 each for our trouble, and proceeded to laugh all the way home in the car about the second strangest restaraunt experience we had.

The first was Boracay…

I rate Amigo’s

0/10 for food. I can open a can and microwave it at home.

6 for promptness of service. The staff member was nice. I’ve got a feeling she was there alone.

10 for 90s aesthetic liminal space vibes.

As my step mother would say, “it’ll make a shit”. Meaning that whilst the food was boring, bland, and average, it will pass through. So I say sure. Amigos will make a shit. Let’s hope it comes out solid.

Finally, they say once you enter the backrooms, you never escape, and they’re right. A part of my heart will never ever leave Amigo’s, despite the fact I’ll never l set foot in there again.