#I always mix up Arizona and New Mexico

[writingwithcolor]

Adding a Black Woman to a Small Human Cast With Many Aliens

@blazednarancia69 asked:

Half Alien Black Princess

I’m working on the early stages of a comic idea and I was wondering if you had any tips for people struggling to be as inclusive as they want when they have a small cast to work with- it’s a SciFi piece, and my story involves a lot of alien/human interaction, and there are really only 4-5 ‘main characters’ that are fully human. While they’re all POC, I’ve realised that my main human cast lacks any Black women.

 There is a Black man in the main cast, and there are some secondary/tertiary Black women characters who show up throughout the story. One of the other main characters is a half-human, half-alien princess who is a dark skinned Black woman, but I don’t want to contribute to the existing trend of a ton of SciFi casting WOC and Black women in particular in exclusively alien roles but not including them in the human cast.

My proposed solution: Black lesbian and Black Mexican women characters, Black character works for the Black-coded Alien princess

A lot of my human characters are from the American southwest (California, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, etc), and several of my main human cast have Mexican-American heritage. Two of them are adult siblings, an older brother and a younger sister, with a white dad and a Mexican-American mom. I decided a while ago that I wanted their mom to end up with a girlfriend/wife (in either a healthy polyamory way or a divorce way, NOT a cheating way, to be clear), and I’ve always pictured the girlfriend as a Black lesbian in STEM with a caffeine addiction and a cool shoulder tattoo- I’m thinking, now, that it would make sense to have her be the younger sister’s other bio mom. That way, I have a mixed Black & Mexican woman in the main human cast, plus I get to include a blended family that has half/stepsiblings with a healthy, positive dynamic, which is super important to me as someone who grew up never seeing families like mine except in ‘evil stepfamily’ situations.

Light skin and dark skin power dynamics

That ‘solution’ does make me worried about running into issues with the half-alien princess being darker skinned than the human woman; even though there are other aliens of her species with varying skin tones, I’m worried it might come off as exotifying dark skin. Then again, if I make the Black human woman darker and the half-alien princess lighter, I end up with a darker skinned Black woman working for a lighter skinned Black princess, and there’s some pretty obvious and colorist issues there, especially since the princess is meant to be, like, ethereally beautiful and graceful, as princesses tend to be, and the human woman is (and I mean this endearingly) a walking disaster. It’s probably relevant to mention that the Black man in the main cast is already dark skinned, so it’s not like there wouldn’t be ANY dark skinned Black humans in the main cast if I go with making the human woman lighter, but even that can have problematic connotations- I know a lot of media will feature dark skinned Black men but only light skinned Black women.

[ask redacted and headers added for readability]

First of all, your efforts to include dark-skinned Black women are appreciated! One can’t be expected to represent every race, ethnicity or underrepresented group in one story, as it’s generally just not feasible. Of course, making the full and conscious effort to be inclusive of under and misrepresented races and backgrounds in your current and future works is nice and very welcome in terms of representation - and it’s what we’re all about here!

Now, there are situations where I personally believe that it’s important to make that extra effort, and your story presents such situations.

Men of X race are there; the Women of Color are not

I take special note when there’s a man of a certain race that is included but not Women of Color of that race as well. It’s a trend for Black men / Black women especially or, as you noted, if she’s included and in a romantic way she often needs to be light. Or, if a dark-skinned Black woman makes an appearance, she’s the best friend or comedic relief and not seen as particularly desirable or someone to care about beyond being entertainment or even a punching bag.

Non-humans of X race exist, but humans of X race do not

It’s eyebrow-raising to me when stories include Black-coded aliens and non-humans but no humans in a story where indeed other humans exist. It’s insightful for you to take note of that as well.

A story is set in a region where the population is mostly X race - but they’re not in the story

Now, this situation actually doesn’t seem to be implied in your story, but it’s worth mentioning for others. A story that is featured in, for example, Nigeria or even Fantasy Nigeria that has no Nigerian, Black or African-diaspora people in general in the cast (or are just minor background characters)…..oh no. 

So! It’s great that you took notice of the matter and decided to do something about it in your story.

Black mom and Black / Mexican daughter

Your solution to add a Black mom to the story sounds fine. Keep in mind the mammy and your typical tropes that can come from Black mothers in stories. 

I may be getting some details cloudy, but it appears there’s a dark-skinned Black Mexican daughter from the relationship? And this Mexican + Black daughter serves a Black-coded alien princess that you’re not sure should be dark or lighter skinned? I hope I got that right! 

There’s indeed power dynamics there if you go to the Black-coded princess with light skin. If you’re not wanting to create that dynamic or explore it in the narrative, you could always make them both darker skinned. There are many shades of brown and very brown skin. They don’t need to be the same shade or tone of brown. 

Also, I think it’s okay for the alien princess to be graceful and the Black character to be a “walking disaster” as you say, as 1) Black characters need not be perfect 2) There are more Black women characters. And this is, again, made better if the princess doesn’t have to be light skinned.

Also, disclaimer as I’m not Mexican: but having a prominent Mexican character that is not in a servitude role would most likely be welcome! I’ll let Mexican followers comment on that.

Thanks for your thoughtful question. 

~Mod Colette

[zonie-az]

Anxiety and brain being stupid so

Dyslexia Arizona cause I got it and I love my boy so he gets it too.

Ari hates writing and reading laws it just so hard and a there so many words and it all in times new Roman and fuck that.

Ari doesn't like green. The color hurts he does better with reds and oranges. Turquoise is okay so blue but like Forest green and all hurtssssss. (Not the same colors as me but these fit his color scheme)

He loves his cactus of course but also sometimes they do hurt at times when his head is being extra mean.

He can not always spell his name. That why he always likes Ari he can spell that Arizona just has to many letters and no pattern to grab on to.

Ari can also not spell new Mexico. Which hurts more then his name cause it his boyfriends name he should be able to spell it.

He will usually write and use newie two es and an ie are good great letter mixed.

He sometimes will write NM but usually doesn't cause sometimes he put MN or MM or NN he has to repeat in his head new Mexico as he writes it.

Speaking of which when any state does it's acronym he has no idea who it is.

His acronym is amazing AZ first letter and then last letter amazing great love it.

Also half of not more the states he has no idea who is who.

Please don't give him a map. He don't want it.

NM is so kind to him. He sometimes sit and read things to Ari to try and help.

Newie always wears colors that he knows does well for Ari's brain.

Sometimes Ari will have bad light sensitivity day and NM will pin up the black out curtains putting down head pads to keep him warm if it winter. And take away Ari's phone and just use a radio with tape over the screen so Ari can sit in as much darkness as he can. But also not be just sitting there bored.

NM will come in when he can and snuggle with Ari. Tho it's hard getting in the room and around.

NM will knock and talk though the door then Ari covers his head as NM opens the door and steps in. Then after closing it just stands there till Ari comes and grabs him guiding him to the bed. Cause NM can't see anything. Ari can tho. So Ari has to guides NM there. NM will end up poking Ari or knock something over cause he can't see but he wants to give Ari a kiss or hold his hand.

Ari hates hates hates writing anything please don't make him write in front of people. He can't spell and people will make fun of him. Also don't you dare make him read Infront of anyone. He will cry.

NM is the only exception. Tho reading in front of him still hurts Ari he feels so much shame.

He will be working and ask NM how to spell something. NM has learned best thing to do is not even look up from whatever and just say the spelling not to fast and then let it move on.

Ari has so much shame with spelling thing wrong he spends forever checking his work 100 times and even then it's almost guaranteed he mess stuff up.

He tries to play the not trying/caring card all the time with others. But he cares and try so hard.

Bad brain days can lead to lot of tears also if he has to keep working sometimes head bangs on the table.

3 bangs to be exact.

Always 3

One for the shock out of it. one of the pressure release. One cause he can't stop it and also pain needs to hit before he back.

NM hates them. He hates when Ari bangs his head. He tries to get Ari not to but Ari needs it. Sometimes it's really all he can do to get the overwhelm and pressure feeling out. NM doesn't understand. And Ari knows he never will. Ari does it without warning NM sometimes cause he knows NM will try and stop him. Which scares the shit out of Newie. And NM always tried to stop but the 3 bangs are fast and over before NM can really stop it.

Ari starts working again cause NM always is like okay we don't that upsets Ari cause he did his bangs he okay for a bit he needs to get this done.

NM wants to pull everything away. It's hurting his boyfriend but let's Ari work more. He watching careful then when he sees pain again starting to build he takes it all away.

NM tried to get Ari to take break but sometimes that make it worse cause it drags everything out and Ari just wants it done and over with.

Ari talks about his brain like it not him. His brain is someone else sometimes. His brain is throwing a bit. His brain is being mean. His brain won't let him.

NM is very confused but knows it not different personalities or anything. It just having the disconnect from what you want and are trying to do and what is able to be done. To know what he trying to say but can't get it out.

NM is always trying to be patient with Ari. Sometimes it's hard. Ari can tell when NM is getting frustrated. Usually when Ari is having a bad day and his hurting himself trying to push things. Or when Ari is trying to explain something but can't and NM needs to know. Or when Ari can't/won't do stuff around other states.

Spell check has no idea what he trying to say. He keeps a little notebook that has words he needs to spell all the time plus little pictures next to them if need be. he can read better then spell but reading is hard. Also never read all the words. He hates when his brain deletes words like "not" or *other then* and things that make a big difference.

Ari knows on computer and changing the front and separate into more paragraphs. Helps but he also can be self destructive and be mean about how he should be able to do it on his own like everyone else. And not do that.

NM also doesn't understand that and will change things for him sometimes cause he can't let Ari put himself though he'll cause he feels like he stupid for not being able to do how others do.

Writing in cursive can go burn.

No cursive. He can decode cursive most the time.

So he has to get a paper and pen and write out whatever in cursive them read what he wrote. He hates it.

Just Ari having dyslexia.

Am going to try and sleep now it 1am.

[introvertguide]

The Road Movie

Most movies follow a general script type depending on genre, and this is used to tell a story that has a satisfying ending. It is interesting when a movie mixes up type and tone and goes against genre type. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it is terrible. Great directing and acting can make the subversion of expectations less jarring (or more depending on the end goal), but the end goal and tone allows us to attach a film to a genre. But what about films that aren't about the end goal? There are many films that are in a sub-genre that focus on the journey with little regard to the end goal. These are what are called "road movies" and can fall under many different genres since the end goal doesn't really matter. Let's address some famous road movies through the years that are also classified in a variety of other genres:

Huckleberry Finn (1931)

The OG of travel films, this was the sequel to Tom Sawyer (1930) and had the same child actors. This wasn't what you would call financially successful, but this was largely due to the Great Depression. The 1939 version of the movie did a lot better and was one of the well known films of child actor Mickey Rooney. This story of travel was an early role for many actors including Rooney, Ron Howard, and Elijah Wood. Although there were threats of death and portrayals of slavery, this film was considered a family adventure in the pre-code film era. I guess a boy escaping his abusive father in the company of an adult escaped slave where people are actively attempting to rob and kill them was considered a fun family romp in the early 30s. This was the same story that came from a book that was banned in schools during the 1980s. It is a great story and I love the works of Mark Twain; I am just surprised at the genre.

Stagecoach (1939)

This is a great movie that transcends the Western genre of which it is categorized. A group of people all have different reasons for traveling from an Arizona territory over to New Mexico. There is word of vengeful thieves and angry Apaches that threaten the small band of travelers. It is actually very intense because the threat feels very real throughout the film. The entire film focuses on the journey and the relationships forged (and broken) on the way. This was the breakout role for John Wayne and was part of an amazing string of films directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne.

Easy Rider (1969)

This is a film that really spoke to the hippie movement during the Vietnam Era. It is statement on how difficult it is to truly be free and how society fears that freedom and tries to destroy it. The film might very well have the worst dialogue of any movie I have ever seen. Actors Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper were actively using drugs throughout film production, so the real draw was the sweet rides and the moving soundtrack. This is a movie where I actually want more driving montages and less character development because I don't identify with the characters at all. Maybe it is a generational gap.

Paper Moon (1973)

This film is amazing. It is the story of a traveling grifter who takes a little girl on the road with him after her mother dies. He teaches her how to make a living cheating people and they form a father-daughter type of relationship. It is a comedy drama that won the girl an Oscar for best supporting actress when she was only 10. Some nice back story, the girl is Tatum O'Neal and is the actual daughter of the grifter, played by Ryan O'Neal. It is kind of strange, but this is a "coming of age" film on the road.

The Blues Brothers (1980)

Now this is what I am talking about. Two brothers go on a trip after being released from jail because they got a message from God. I am pretty sure that this film still holds the record for most crashed vehicles in a single movie. It is also interesting that the film is technically a musical. The brothers stop at different locations and songs break out. In between stops, they are chased by the police in an almost demolition derby style chase. I really enjoy this movie and believe that it really keeps a fast pace (literally and figuratively), but, like many road films, I can't say it is good because it is more of an experience than a story.

Thelma and Louise (1991)

This was an interesting twist on the "run from the law" type of film. Two women are friends and decide go on a weekend retreat. They get in trouble after killing a man who tries to assault them and have to run from the authorities. It has a reputation for being very feminist (despite being directed by accused mesogenist Ridley Scott) because of the negative portrayal of men. It obviously wasn't that bad since it was nominated for 6 Oscars including both leads for best actress. In fact, Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon were both nominated for best actress at the Academy Awards, the BAFTAs, and the Golden Globes. It is the quintessential road film since the end goal is constantly changing and best defined as "away from here."

Natural Bork Killers (1994)

This was kind of a strange film. It is a crime drama where the audience follows two killers with traumatic childhoods as they meet and go on a murder spree. Similar to Bonnie and Clyde, but with gory murders as the focus over bank robberies. It is directed by Oliver Stone, and criticizes the glorification of violence by the media. It is most definitely a road movie because the end goal for the two is simply to be together and enjoy the rush of breaking the law. Hm. It is actually quite a bit like Bonnie and Clyde. Interesting. I would like to make a note that my mom hates this film because of the shaky cam and Dutch angles. It made her feel sick at the theater.

Road Trip (2000)

OK. This is far and away my least favorite film on this list, but it is the most famous "boner road comedy" that I am familiar with. It is a high school/college coming-of-age film that focus on the sexual pursuits of a group of young men. These types of films are marked with gross out humor, gratuitous nudity, and boys trying to have sex. There was a bunch of films like this that came out around the early 2000s and they all had to do with boys traveling some place in search of idealized sex (the plot on this one is a little different, something to do with a sex tape) and generally they find that the best girl for them was there by them all along. It takes a nice idea of character development and throws raunchy jokes and boobs at it. I was not a fan, but it was definitely a thing.

Death Proof (2007)

This is much better shlock. It is the Tarantino version of exploitation grindhouse films of the seventies, but updated to be a women empowerment film. It was part of a double feature that was paired with a horrific zombie outbreak film directed by Rod Rodriguez, but this one is much better on its own. It is the story of an old stunt man who travels around looking for unsuspecting victims whom he can run down in his indestructible car. This is a great example of what a road movie can be because Tarantino took the concept of a slasher and put it completely on the road.

Mad Max Fury Road (2015)

Here is an action revenge film in a post-apocalyptic wasteland where most of the film is driving. The producers couldn't find a director who they trusted with remaking George Miller's Mad Max franchise so the 70 year old Miller said "hold my beer" and made this masterpiece that is arguably better than any of the first three (edit: I guess Miller always intended to direct but it took so long to go into production that he joked in interviews about giving up on it). The original trilogy with Mel Gibson presents an amazing world where most people are nomadic and traveling can be a life or death proposition. Fury Road is the further adventures of the character and his interaction with one Furiosa. The use of many practical effects on moving vehicles that was garnished with CG effects made for one of the best action films in the last decade. It was more than a simple movie about traveling; it was a land were the road was life and everything surrounded the ability to be mobile enough to get supplies in a dead world.

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This is by no means all of the road movies. The Wizard of Oz is technically a road movie. The Grapes of Wrath is a critically acclaimed road movie from around the same time. Comedies like The Cannonball Run, Smokey and the Bandit, and National Lampoon's Vacation can all be classified in the genre. Rain Man is one of the best films of all time and it can be classified as a road movie. What it comes down to is that, when considering characters, a writer should think about the journey itself and think of how the leads interact with this entity. The road might be the best character in the whole story.

[s-e-v-e-n-24]

Late | Cali x New Mexico

Summary: California is late, for once, and a certain someone took that opportunity to steal his chair.

Now normally California was exceptionally early to meetings. By up to 20-30 minutes.

It had started as an accident, he had kept getting the times wrong and Cali had actually thought he'd shown up late. So late in fact everyone else had left.

Gradually, this had turned less I to a mix up in times, and more into a pride thing.

He was always early, always the first one there besides maybe the fed himself. The others had even started making jokes about it. Which, looking back, wasn't all that surprising, alot did find it rather annoying. Especially when he would lord it over some extremely late states.

Today however, did not go as planned and he was currently 15 minutes late. He cursed internally at himself, not looking forward to the others reactions to his tardiness. They'd surely tease him, like normal.

He cringed at the memories of having such pride for being early.

God! If only he hadn't made it this way, that if he was late people were going to make fun of it. Maybe if he hadn't said it out loud the chance of the others, particularly his western colleagues, wouldn't notice might be less then 100%.

Finally, California was facing the big oak doors. Frenzied chatter could be heard from inside, as well as various ranges of laughter.

Wow he really pitied Gov today, it sounded so chaotic. Surely he wouldn't help if he were to join now. He could just say he felt ill, or was doing some sort of errand or-

No.

Nope.

He's gotta go in. It's the responsible thing to do. And he was a very responsible state.

Cali takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, entering with what he hoped was an air of confidence.

He quickly flashed a smile at Gov and went to grab his seat. His hand swiped at empty air and he paused, confused.

A few snickers echoed around the room. A heat quickly rose to his cheeks. That's weird..his chair wasn't there.

A quick spin around and Cali could see the chair was, in fact, no where in the room, and all the other chairs been occupied.

New Mexico had a strange look on his face that might've been pride.

"..where's my seat?" Cali resists the urge to cross his arms, instead giving Gov a questioning look. Surely he knew who the culprit was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arizona turn to New Mexico with a grin on his face, New Mexico returning that look with a small shush. Rather suspicious..

"New Mexico took your chair as some sort of...prank or whatever? Or Revenge I'm not entirely sure."

Ah. So it was him.

California turned to face the offender, crossing his arms and giving him his best glare. He was slightly aware this guesture might make him look bratty, but he didn't exactly care in the moment.

New Mex looks up at him, grinning just as much as Ari now. "Why? What are you gonna do about it?"

He opens his mouth to give back what was likely a sassy retort, but closes it and tilting his head slightly. He had a better idea.

A smile curved his lips upward slightly as he sauntered his way over to New Mexico. He was forcibly quieting his anxious thoughts, there was no point for it, not like he could really back out now without at least looking weird.

It only took a second to cross the room and promptly plop himself in New Mex's lap.

The state under him made an indignant noise and when Cali looked him in the eyes, daring him to say something, to push him off, New Mex was bright red.

"If you're going to take away my chair I might as well use you as one." Cali said, giving him a smug look. He turned his face back to Gov.

"So, what were you talking about?"

[cyborg00-why]

Random yet specific headcanons

Alright, I’ve been working on a rancher fic and wanted to share a few of my favorite headcanons for these three. 

Jet Link

- Considering his time of abduction and how often he’s gone off to be a ranch hand/play cowboy there is a very high chance he’s a Spaghetti Western fan. His ideas and romanticism of the west based almost solely on what he’d seen on film, by extension his bravado and man’s man personality being heavily influenced from such films. Something that both mirrored his gang life on the streets while still being a mental escape. The lone cowboy out to right wrongs on his own terms something he’d see in himself.

- This of course would bleed into an odd fascination/respect for Geronimo Jr. as he’d likely be the only Indigenous person he’d ever met (that he was aware of at least). The personification of the “last of a dying breed” trope you see often in such films, something he likely project onto Jr. Especially considering that being from New York he’d known of Mohawk Steelworkers but wouldn’t have known any personally. 

- Serial pawn shop shopper. He knows they don’t make knives or lighters like they use to and he’s got a small collection going.

- Apart from his established knife fighting skills, he’d whittle in his free time. 

-Great at darts.

- He’d be a great houseguest, very considerate and takes direction as well as he can. Doesn’t want to be deadweight on the ranch, and have a stern ‘earn his keep’ sort of vibe. 

-Despite having a high interest in learning the ropes he’d still struggle. His time on the ranch would positively impact his ‘square peg being forced into a round hole’ mentality. 

- Plays a mean game of checkers.

- Maybe too embarrassed to say it, but really respects Jr.’s self sufficiency and wants to take after him in some ways. Is really touched when Geronimo teaches him something. At the same time can be especially hurt when there are traditional lessons Jr. won’t share. 

-Sure he can play the guitar but he’s also been teaching himself the harmonica. He’s also good at playing both the spoons and a blade of grass but he’ll never admit to either. 

-Can do that really cool two finger whistle thing. 

- Long story but he knows from first hand experience that chickens float in water. Pyunma isn’t impressed and Jr. thinks it’s cute he likes chickens. 

- You know at some point in time Jet would do rodeo shows and live out the whole cliche bonding with a horse who can’t be broken bologna while Geronimo worked the event as an MC.

Geronimo Jr.

Which brings me to Jr.

- You know, and I mean KNOW he’s worked the Arizona circuit like no ones business. Despite the team thinking of him as stoic and saying little everyone in town knows him as their favorite MC. He’s done everything from powwows, estate sales, property auctions, all the way to rodeos. 

-Those on the moccasin telegraph rumor he was a guest at G.O.N. in New Mexico one year. 

- Would absolutely have an old 1988 red, sun bleached Toyota Tacoma that had seen better days but still runs. Of course the suspension is shot and leans heavily on the drivers side. The glove compartment is full of old tapes, and he’d have at least one mix tape with classic 49ers in there too. 

- When he’s working as an auctioneer he goes Full Boomhauer

- Aunties love him. He’s always given an extra helping at food stalls and everyone is vying for him to say their fry bread is best, even though we all know his grandmothers was #1.

-Would be in the loop on all the local chisme.

-He can’t shop at normal stores for clothes, instead making annual custom orders through Wrangler and Dickies. 

-He is why Wrangler revoked their lifetime guarantee. Too many blown out shoulder seams.

-He’s excellent at traditional methodologies and takes a lot of pride in keeping traditions alive. He’d be a great beader and leatherworker, his mitts being extremely sought after in the community with order requests coming in year round. Word is he’ll sometimes make a trade if you can do quillwork. 

-Prior to the bootleg boom his family would have been respected artisans, collectors and locals alike still hold onto their older jewelry, and at a few estate sales he’d seen his dads old silver stamping tools still in circulation. Sometimes he get’s letters in the mail from a collector in another state asking to verify the family stamp.

-He’s got a lifetime ban from one diner in Albuquerque for smashing a jukebox that was playing The Ballad of Ira Hayes. 

-Standardized cooking measurements do not exist in his house, everything is old school cooking in relation to yourself. A handful of this, a pinch of that. 

- He has his grandmothers taste in home decor. 70′s shag rugs, wood laminate, acrylic yarn doilies, and a mug collection that at it’s best could be described as kitschy.  

-While he is incredibly thankful that after being abducted he’d gotten to keep his hair, there was also the struggle to maintain like he had before. Enhanced hulking muscles meant he isn’t as flexible as he use to be, and he is unable to braid it. So he kept it short on the dolphin, and even on breaks back home he’d grow it out in a bun tucked under his hat.  

On one of the many trips where Pyunma would stay with him, he’d catch Jr. early one morning struggling to braid it. Instead offering to do so himself. This became a routine whenever Pyunma stayed over, and as far as he knew the only person Jr. will let touch his hair. Pyunma would also take a lot of pride in his handiwork, especially whenever he’d catch Jr. admiring his own reflection.

Pyunma

- He’d always wanted to visit Jr.’s ranch but maybe felt a bit awkward to ask, unsure if he’d even want the company.

- He’d immensely enjoy the monotony of ranch life, the predictability of long structured workdays giving him a chance to mentally tune out while keeping busy. A sort of stress relief from the unpredictability of his previous life back home.

- One of the only people Jr. would share teachings with because he understood that weight and responsibility that comes with it. 

- Would be really into plant identification and drying them for storage. Would have a whole notebook full of illustrations and field notes based on what Jr. shared. Maybe even get into salve making on the side. 

-Always carries a canteen to water the plants he harvests from, even when Jr. isn’t watching.

- Loves, loves, loves telling Jet believable lies about ranch stuff. Think lying about a weed being a cure all for muscle soreness, only to have Jr. ask where the hell he’d heard that from. 

- Big fan of cinnamon instant oatmeal, Jr. is sure to stock up when he knows Pyunma is coming by.

- Of all the hand crafts Jr. had shared with him, Pyunma’s favorite would be dressing feathers. He’s got a near cult following in the fancy dance community for his bustle work. 

- Very good at removing the stickers from nopales, often times double and triple checking Jr.’s handiwork before they make breakfast.

- Not afraid of rattlesnakes, but respects them deeply. Firm believer in the old rope trick. 

- Can haggle with the best of them at vendor stalls, he knows a tourist price when he hears one. 

- Enjoys listening to old radio dramas while laying in the back of Jr.’s truck at night. Eventually getting all three of them to make it a part of the weekly routine. They sit outside and start a fire, and make dinner before tuning in. They eat in silence, and when it get’s cold they all share a big wool pendleton. 

[maljean89]

Do you have a band whose entire discography brings you back to the different chapters of your life? Its very basic-bitch-white-girl of me, but Paramore is that band for me.

RIOT! (2007) — The end of high school I discovered Paramore when I was a senior in high school. I caught this promo at the end of some reality TV show on MTV of Hayley singing “Misery Business.” I actually found the video on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSsDEkbBhZo (about 1:40 in). I was hooked from then on out. A friend of mine burned a CD for me that had “Misery Business” and “That’s What You Get” along with “My Heart” from their first album. When I close my eyes I can see driving through my small town in my black Chevy Blazer with the windows down and the music cranked.

BRAND NEW EYES (2009) — UW Oshkosh This album was the soundtrack of my college years. This album brings me back to mostly bad memories. Memories of a time when I was repressed and not exploring myself the way I should have been. I listened to “The Only Exception” and thought it was made for me and him. I look back and “Playing God” was more accurate. I did create a kickass long-form radio piece reviewing this album that turned out really really great. I was really proud of it — here’s the link: https://vimeo.com/18520889. When I close my eyes I can see the campus, the radio station WRST, that apartment where we had so many fights. I guess you could say this album got me through it, while at the same time DJ’ed the whole shit-tastic experience.

THE FINAL RIOT! (2008) — A metaphor for what I wanted my relationship to be Even though this album came out prior to Brand New Eyes, I didn’t personally own it until after. I got it as a gift from my ex-husband — the same fuck I was dating in college. I loved it. I still have it. Most of my CDs were quickly separated from their cases, never to be reunited again. Not this CD (and DVD). Always stayed in its case, and always lived on the bookshelf. I treated it like a collectors item — something to be displayed. Oddly enough, I treated my then-new marriage the same way. On the outside, to the rest of the world — we were happy. I was happy with my choices. If I just told myself one more time, if I just posted one more picture, if I just put it up on that shelf to display it to everyone... maybe I’d believe that I actually wanted it. To be clear — I love the CD, just not the person who gave it to me and the time period during which I displayed it. Transported back to a time when I dreamed of getting away and being someone in the crowd of this concert — faceless, nameless, and singing along in unison with strangers. 

PARAMORE (2013) — The shitshow that was my marriage

When the first single from this album came out, I hated it. ��Now” is still one of my least favorite songs on the album. I remember feeling sad and betrayed that this band that I loved, that I held so close to my heart, made something I didn’t recognize. What could I trust in this world if I couldn’t trust Paramore? I close my eyes and I’m in the grey Ford Escape we bought with the money my dad gave me to pay for my college. The car he would end up taking in the divorce. I’m transported back to countless nights of being kicked out of my own apartment. I grew to love this album. Again, I thought songs like “Still into You” and “Ain’t It Fun” applied to my love-life and newfound adulthood as I convinced myself that I was happy, that I liked my life and my choices. But songs like “Last Hope” and “Part II” bring me back to how melancholy I felt. How trapped. How lost. I don’t even know myself at all, I thought I would be happy by now. Words could have never been more true at that point in my life.

AFTER LAUGHTER (2017) — On the other side I waited 4 years for another Paramore record. And in 4 years, my life changed. A LOT. I left that piece of shit that held me down, held me back. My mom got cancer and I watched her wither away for a year and held her hand as she died. I met the love of my life. This album came out right before I went on the road with him — went on tour with him an we drove across the entire country, blasting this record. Jonah was very sick of it by the time we hit California, but he had no say in it if he wanted me to do the driving! From the East Coast to Canada, through the midwest, down the West Coast, and down through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and last stop, Georgia. I fell in love with these songs and how this band had aged and grown up and gone through depression, just like I had. We all went through “Hard Times” and gave people fake smiles. While widely departed from their pop-punk beginnings, this album feels synthy and dripping with eighties energy — as do the music videos. Paramore wasn’t afraid to change with this album and I felt like I wasn’t afraid to change too.

One song sticks out like a sore thumb and makes me cry every time I listen to it. I was 26 when I left him, when I left that shitty life I wasted behind me. Everything was fine until you came around. Until he ruined everything, I had my close relationship with my mom, I had a sense of who I was. You got me tied up but I stay close to the window. He wouldn’t let me have friends or have a life that didn’t include him. I literally can remember daydreaming, gazing out that front window of our apartment at Lake Superior, wishing I could hop on one of those huge ships and just get the fuck out of here, get a new life. The part that really gets me is this:

Reality will break your heart Survival will not be the hardest part It's keeping all your hopes alive All the rest of you has died So let it break your heart

“26″ is literally a song about hope, but I feel like it was written just for me. Getting out from underneath the thumb of an emotionally abusive partner — missing out on years of valuable time with my mother only to reunite and watch her die — finding hope in the face of Jonah and finally feeling free to be myself, to explore, to grieve, to love, and to live.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grew up and went through lots of shit as I listen to these albums. I got to feel a band grow and mature as I grew and matured. There have been artists in my lifetime that I fell in love with at a meaningful point in my life, but they didn’t keep growing as I grew. Artists (sadly) like Avril, who showed me at 13 that it was okay to be different than the preppy girls, who gave me hope with her 2nd album that I was going to grow as she grew, but who then disappointed me beyond repair with her 3rd album when she took a hard left turn into sassy, stupid, blonde vapidity. But then came Paramore — a band with a sound that matched my teenage spirit, and I was whisked away into my young adulthood. I’m 31 now and Hayley only just released her first solo album this year and I’m still growing and changing with this artist. She stepped away from Paramore (for good? We do not know.) and put out this indie-sounding experimental album that feels like 80′s pop mixed with Sia’s 2005 record “Colour The Small One” — a high school fave of mine. As a fan, it gives me hope when someone like Hayley Williams doesn’t allow herself to be trapped in a box. She doesn’t have to be a pop-punk, flame-haired front woman forever. She can change. I can change. Paramore can grow, and so can I.

Let’s keep changing and growing for the rest of our lives, shall we?

[bikeforlife]

Bike Tour Blog

I honestly can’t believe I made it from the Pacific to Atlantic.   This morning I woke up in my own bed for the first time since early February.  Oh my god it felt so good.  If a mattress maker wanted a testimonial, today would definitely be the day to get one from me.   After 45 days straight of being on a bike it feels really good to be home. 

On the first week we made from San Diego to Tucson Arizona.  This section had some significant climbs through places like Alpine CA  and  Pine Valley CA and lots of desert riding in eastern tip of California and the state of Arizona.  We camped in San Dunes CA where ATV’s are very popular and in places like desert view towers that had insane views of the Ko-Pah mountains.   We also slept in a town park in small town in Arizona called Welton.  I did snap my chain in Pine Valley but Tone was right there to help out.  It was also the first time I rode my bike on the interstate and the first time I ever had rode a bike 10 miles straight downhill from the Ko Pah Mountains to Ocatillo California. 

The next few week would take us through New Mexico and the beginning of Texas.  The highlight of this section was the climb through the Gila National Forest on our way to Emory Pass.  This section had absolutely breathtaking views and an abundance of nature.  We climbed to over 8200 feet of elevation at the peak and went through awesome towns like Silver City NM and Hillsboro, NM.  A couple days later we crossed the border into Texas at El Paso. This mammoth state would be approximately 1/3rd of the total miles we would cover.  Many parts of the Us but especially Texas  had recently experience significant weather event with snow, freezing conditions, and a failure of the local power grid.  Fortunately we got to the state about a week after the weather had passed.   

In Eastern Texas a significant portion of our miles would be on US highway 90.  This would feature some awesome small towns like Marathon and Sierra Blanca Texas. The route also had remote areas  of riding where there wouldn’t even be a gas station for 80+ miles.  I found myself having more to think and unwind than at any part of my adult life.   It was also during this stretch that we stayed at some great state parks.  Seminole Canyon State Park and Lost Maples State Park in particular stood out to me.    There is something magical about looking at the stars on a clear night without light pollution.  

Eventually we went through Austin, Texas and I got to reconnect with my friends Jason and Max. After so much time pedaling through remote areas it feels really good to see friends and be in a city.   Austin as a city has grown so much since I was there last.  I ate great food during our off day and found an amazing bike mechanic that help me resolve a derailleur issue that had been lingering since San Diego.  

We would hit a few more state parks on the eastern half of Texas and eventually crossed into Louisiana.  After being in a very dry part of Texas the swamps of Louisiana offered a very different riding experience.  For the most part the terrain was flat and the roads were in good condition.  This part of the tour was special to me because of the amazing friends we made.  During one week we stayed with Mandy in Deritter, LA and Perry in Jackson, LA.  These amazing people took us into their homes and did everything they could to be helpful and make us feel at home.  We were able to take a day off in New Orleans which was awesome.  My friend Chris and his friend Bobby came down from from Jackson Miss and we all got a chance to hang.   It was great to see Chris again after almost a decade of not seeing him.  Hopefully I’ll make it to Mississippi at some point 

The final stretch would have us riding through Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and Florida.   During this time we met even more incredible hosts.   Kellie/Mason in Bay Saint Louis and Dave/Stacy in Bagdad, Fl were both incredibly kind and generous.  Thank you for everything.  The ride took us through places like Dalphin Island, Alabama.  I never knew there were islands in Alabama . They are absolutely gorgeous.  

We stayed in a couple more awesome state parks in this stretch.   In Bainbridge Georgia we stayed in the east bank campground operated by the army core of engineers.  They gave us a site right by the water and it was a pretty magical experience.  The final section of the tour featured a massive uptick in the number of bugs in these parks.   I found that during camping were almost always under attack from mosquitoes or being visited by either argentine ants, caterpillars , or bees.  Bug spray can help but sometimes you just have to cover every single bit of skin on your body. 

During the final day push to the ocean Tone and I split up.  The original route that we were using had us going through Jacksonville to Saint Augustine Florida. He wanted to stick to the route while  I made a decision to go directly to Jacksonville which was more direct to the Atlantic Ocean.  For me the final day was filled with a range of emotions and thoughts.  Admittedly even 10 years later I still have some anxiety of my past medical condition.  As i’m riding i’m feeling a huge sense of accomplishment and simultaneous release of anxiety/stress. To be able to survive a full coast to coast tour of the United States on a bike is the kind of proof that the only limitations are the ones I place on myself.  I think about my life with Riana over the past 10 years and how fortunate we’ve been to be able to experience living in larger cities, traveling abroad, and getting to start our own business.  

I think about how grateful I am to Tony for doing this tour with me.  I’ve known him for 15 years and he’s always pushed me to do things outside my comfort zone.  From helping me get first passport stamp, to hosting great events, to now riding through the US on a bike.  Particularly on this tour he went above and beyond.  He help me with mechanical issues which i’m not particularly good at, he lead our route navigation almost every day, he found places for us to stay, and helped lead us through all kinds of unique day to day challenges.  

My tour came to a strange end.  I was on my way to stay at my friends Stephanie’s house in jacksonville when I stopped at a convenience store.  When I came out my bike and all of my gear was stolen.  This included my passport, clothes, tent, sleeping bag, paneers, bike tools, food, journal, and more.  I tried my best to look through the neighborhood and called the police but no luck in recovering any of it.  As unfortunate as this situation is, I'm grateful it happened on the final day of the tour just a couple of miles from my friends house.  I won’t let that person take away my memories and diminish the experience.   They are worth infinitely more than the material value of the bike and my belongings.  

As i’ve had a couple of days to relax before going back to work  i’ve been reflecting on the experience more.  I absolutely would recommend doing something like this to anyone I know for a few reasons.   It’s a great way to decompress.  You have time to actively think and it helps your focus significantly.  The riding is tough but manageable.  I only rode my bike on a couple training rides beforehand.  I was also asked a ton of questions from people about my experience. So I wanted to answer them one by one below.  

What did you eat?  

Being a vegan on a bike tour has its challenges.  I ate a lot of clif bars, peanut butter banana burritos, trail mix, , Fritos chips, subway Veggie Delights without cheese and Impossible burgers from Burger Kings.   Honestly a lot of days on tour it was challenging to find vegan friendly dishes.  Thankfully our hosts made some really nice home cooked vegan meals and every large city we visited had great vegan options.  

Where did you sleep?  

It was a mix of hotels, backyards , rv parks, state parks, town parks , and then random wild camping.   On nights where it was too cold to camp we opted for hotel most of the time.  

What gear did you have?    This was my packing list before the bike was stolen. 

Tools Bag

Park tool Allen key Hand pump Kevlar spoke Back up derailleur  Baby wipes Chain scrubber Degreaser Spare tube x2 3 tire lever adjustable wrench Poncho Hand warmer Head lamp

Food Bag Varies but generally 3 portable camp meals  Clif bars 

Back paneer 1

Extra water plastic jug - Nalgene Sleeping bag (40 degrees) Sleeping bag liner. (10-15 degree etc) Micro fiber Towel Waterproof socks Large winter gloves Small gloves Zip ties

Back paneer 2 Short tech shirts (red and green) Socks (long wool, short cotton Medium wool Blue t shirt

-Toiletries bag

Deodorant dr Bonner liquid and bar soap, bug spray toothbrush toothpaste back up Masks Hand sanitizer

Electronics bag Solar charger Headphone and charger Cell charger Extra water container - 3 liter emergency

Duffle Sleeping pad Wind pants Under armour Long sleeve shirts (grey , black , blue yellow winter Jacket

What was the hardest part?    I suspect every single rider will have a different answer to this .  For me there were two things that probably equally as challenging.  First and foremost there are large portions where people are not wearing masks.  It was very demoralizing to be in situations constantly where people have made a conscious decision to disregard the health of others.  Since the services were so spread out I found myself having to get food from places that have anti mask propaganda on their front door.  

Secondly this tour really taught me that I am more comfortable in cities and around people.  It was charming to spend  days riding our bikes through  farm country in remote roads but eventually it began to wear on me and I found myself crave cities.  Also in cities the percentage of people wearing masks shot up significantly.  

What was your favorite small town?  

I really enjoyed Silver City New Mexico.   It was a quirky mountain with good architecture and really nice people.  There was also a very helpful bike shop, great co-op,  nice motel, and the town was filled with cool art.    

What was the weather like?  

For the most part we had good weather.   I would say were typically 50-60’s during the day on the first half but colder at night.   We were able to avoid some of the extreme weather that hit Texas but still found ourselves that was a little too cold to camp in.    Most of the biggest issue that would we would face would be consistent headwinds.  After a first week full of tailwinds the rest of the tour would almost always deal us 10-25 mph headwinds.   

How many issues did you have with your bike?  

There are always some day to day issues but the most common were flat tires ( I think i had 5 throughout the trip), My front derailleur was a consistent issue.   The fenders on the bike were kind of a pain.   However for an old 80’s bike with an older drive train it held up pretty well.   I would recommend to anyone thinking about touring to consider customizing their bike to their own needs as opposed to buying a brand new touring bike.   There will always be maintenance.    

 How did your body hold up?   

For the most part I wasn’t in a lot of pain on this tour.   Everyone’s body is different.  I found that if I got a majority of my miles during the morning I would do much better.   However on days where we were riding until close to sun down i found myself in a lot of pain near the end of the day.   Most commonly knees, butt, lower back, quads.   Occasionally my hands would be numb on long riding days.   

How long did it take?  

45 days coast to coast.   During that period we took 3 full days off and had a number of short days (30-40 miles).    I’m told that this was a very quick trip as many folks take between 60-70 days to complete this route.  

What would you recommend to someone doing this?  

There are a million things but i’ll try to summarize here.  

If you’re touring with other people try to have honest conversations in advance about things like how many miles you want to shoot for a day.   How early in the morning do you want to start pedaling.   Where you are you comfortable staying.  What kind of timeline you’re under with work?    What food you’re comfortable sharing.   If you’re comfortable deviating off the route to save miles/time.       Ultimately the more you and your riding partners discuss this in advance the less confusion you’ll have day to day.  

With your work I would communicate to co-workers honestly how involved you want to be while away.   Some have traditional jobs that allow them to totally leave work and decompress.  In my case as an entrepreneur I found myself involved on almost daily basis with work.   For me that was comfortable but for others it might take away from their experience.   

I would also make sure that you have a good instinct for eating food even when you’re not hungry.  I had to learn this throughout the tour as my food options were limited with a vegan diet.  

I would recommend that you try to do some level of training in advance.  On my first bike tour I did almost no training and I was in pain almost right away.  On this one I did some cross training and some scheduled rides.  It made all of the difference in the world as far as my day pain levels.   

Would you do it again? 

I don’t personally know if I would do a tour of this length again.   While I enjoyed the experience and the bucket list aspect of it I found myself going through the motions on a lot of days.    I think I would enjoy much more doing a tour of a 7-14 days.   Possibly if I’m ever retired I may feel differently but the looming pressure of my career was a bit hard to get through mentally.   

[mbrainspaz]

you’re not a real

as a third culture kid* the worst thing someone could say to me was always, “you’re not a real __(insert cultural identity here)____,” (**) but that never stopped it from happening. There will always be ignorant or mean-spirited people out there. I don’t really care what they think. This is something I know every person with mixed cultural heritage deals with. I’d just like to point out that it’s the worst feeling even though I don’t let it invalidate my personal experiences anymore. So uh... maybe save us all the trouble and don’t? 

I grew up in America and Germany and travelled a lot besides. I’ve been told that I’m not a real German. I’ve been told that I’m not a real American (multiply by each state I’ve lived in). One of the worst conversations I ever had was with a friend in college who decided to tell me that I wasn’t a real Texan because I’d only lived there for five years and she’d lived there her whole life. 

“What makes you a real Texan then?” I asked. 

“It’s the experience,” she said, “You’d know if you really were a Texan.” 

“So it’s catching toads in the rain? Surviving a tornado in a crown vic on the side of the road? Picking burs out of your clothes after hunting for hornytoads? Getting bit by fire ants? Going to rodeos? Helping your parents tend the garden in the back acre of the yard? Learning to ride a bike in a grove of mesquite trees? Collecting roly-polies and setting them loose in the house (yes I was a menace)? Letting a tarantula walk up your arm? Are those experiences ‘Texan’ enough to qualify me for Texanhood?”

She declined to answer. We’re still friends. Ironically this conversation happened while we were both living in Oklahoma. 

There’s an old tumblr post I wrote in the dark ages--I’m talking superwholock times--still going around. It was one of my first personal text posts so when I read it now I cringe pretty hard, but the gist of it is that I wanted to be able to wear a German dirndl dress in America without getting mocked or harassed. (We’re still not there in case you were wondering.) For some reason most of the comments I ever got seemed to be from German kids who absolutely loathed dirndls and also Bavaria (the southern part of Germany I’m from), and decided to take it out on me. I do get it. It’s universal to hate southern hicks just like it’s universal to hate northern snobs, and nobody wants to wear the dress their grandma bought them-- but I wish they’d had their teenage angst fests somewhere other than my post about encouraging people to be more open-minded about another culture. It dredged up a lot of my old teenage angst about not belonging anywhere. 

Not that I have a lot of time for that anymore. I don’t spend much time thinking about any of this because in my mind it’s resolved. Just like I grew up in a Texan desert I also grew up in a small Bavarian town where people un-ironically wore dirndln and lederhosen to festivals. That is my culture. I love Germany and Bavaria. I love Italy, Spain, and Austria. I love Japan, Hong Kong, and Australia. I love America and Texas and Virginia and Pennsylvania and California and Iowa and Colorado and New Mexico and Arizona and Oklahoma and... okay Maryland and I have issues but it’s not the worst place on earth. I don’t need anyone from any of those places to ‘validate’ me. At this point I can go anywhere on earth and feel at home. I don’t need a cultural identity or a special dress to make me feel like I belong. I am a real me and people are the same everywhere. 

Right now I'm in Texas so for now I’m a Texan again, even if the farrier at the ranch swears up and down I sound like a Pennsylvanian. 

(*third culture kid (TCK): the child of parents from a different culture than the one they raised their kids in) (** as a German tck the actual worst thing anyone can say to me is “so you’re a nazi,” but that hasn’t happened in a couple of years) 

[bom-bombon]

idk if youre still doing that ask, but if you are do you have anything for virginia?

I have a whole story about Virginia and her complexity.... problem is that most of it is in my head and I can’t put it into words

Name: Elizabeth Henry

Age: 31-34

Gender: Cis female

Ethnicity/Race: European (English, there’s others, I just forgot)

Siblings: West Virginia and Kentucky

Height: 5’5 (165.15 cm)

Relations:

-Kentucky: She loves him. She adores him. Virginia doesn’t realize this out of him and West Virginia, she loves Kentucky more. Although he was a troublemaker as a kid, she still showered him with gifts of animals and helped him start a farm and planting. Even though she was distant with him when he was growing up, Kentucky understood why and was soon pushed into the responsibility of being a state, leading him to emphasize with her the workload. During the War of 1812, they became closer as Kentucky tried to be at every battle, supporting the country as Virginia took care of him and his wounds. She was proud of him. Nowadays, they are still on good terms. 

-Maryland: She has mixed feelings about Maryland. Mostly negative. Perhaps there was a time when they were colonies that Virginia thought Maryland as a friend but it’s complicated and a wip. Although Maryland’s positive attitude and some of his beliefs rubbed off on Virginia over the years, she finds him annoying. Since the Civil War, he became more wealthy than her which was a blow to her self esteem, seeing how she always bragged how successful she was and was then destroyed. She has hated how much influence Maryland had on DC seeing as they had different aspirations for the boy. Virginia wanted him more of a Southern gentleman and Maryland wanted him to be free and study all his heart desired, even if it included getting in trouble. And finally, and most importantly, she absolutely hates how he drives and how he even got a driver license. She has gotten into countless accidents whenever she is behind him and fights with him nearly every time. She’s tired of him. But she hates other people more so he’s okay for now.

-North Carolina: Though I don’t have a concrete and satisfying oc of North Carolina, I think that these two are good friends. They just vibe with each other from the start and have great respect for each other. They like to tease each other too.

Virginia: I guess I won once again, huh?

North Carolina, eye twitching: Oh, bless your heart, sweetie.

-Tennessee: She finds him kind of adorable with his optimism, his passion about music, and his habit for always volunteering to help. Virginia always had great respect for him.

-West Virginia: She doesn’t really like him. She used to really love him as she used to raise him but their bond just slowly deteriorated up until the Civil War. Like with Kentucky, she was distant but this had a greater effect on his mental health as West interpreted that Virginia didn’t love him anymore. She had so much to deal with that it physically drained her from wanting to spend time with West Virginia. She always told him she loved him but it wasn’t enough. When West Virginia was becoming his own state, he stole some secrets from Virginia and gave it to the Union. When she found out about this, she felt utterly betrayed. She always thought they were close albeit having opposing opinions. What made this hurt more was that West Virginia was actively participating in the campaign in the East, taking Richmond and causing damage. After the war, she heard some of the things he said about her which was the last straw for her. She began hating him from that point on. He betrayed her, hurt her, and talked absolute trash about her. She didn’t forgive him. Her hatred died down nowadays but she doesn’t really like him. Please know that this was from her perspective, okay?

Things I don’t know how to title but it exists: 

-first wanted to seek wealth

-was incredibly sick when she was young; she promised herself to never get to that point in life at whatever’s cost

-wealthy

-works hard

-makes bomb ass food

-mom friend

-motherly

-compulsive caretaker

-she was 18 when they declared her independence 

-sorta a history buff

-loves going to festivals

-has an obscure driver license plate, not sure what it is yet, but I just know that it’s probably out of vanity 

-(on the last point wtf is up with your license plate Virginians. Every time I see a plate that says Virginia, your plate always says something weird and I’m just so confused. Also you’re not very good drivers. There. I said it.)

Some things about her (development? idk): 

Due to the living conditions of Jamestown and the rapid growth because of tabacco, she promised herself to never get to that point in her life ever again. She developed a habit throughout the years of saving money and soon became her profession of either business or economics. 

Since she was the oldest compared to the other OG 13 an had two younger brothers, she had to grow up quickly and be the responsible one. She wanted them to be safe while they’re together. For example, when Virginia see anyone hurt, she was always the first to help them and give some sort of lecture. She also provided the food, with some help obviously, but she was the main chef. Whenever the other colonies get upset, Virginia has to step in and comfort them. At the same time, she was also delving more into politics and helping out with her government. With this mindset, she had little time to truly enjoy her childhood or even have one. She had to be the mature one. She had to be the responsible one. She had to be. This ultimately causes her to be stressed and thinking that is normal. It also lead to Virginia being to stubborn and thinks she doesn’t have to be goofy or have fun like the other kids.

Some writing but I’m too shy to show all of it so have this,,,:

She swiftly exited the party held in their shared house. Thoughts raced through her mind. Fun, gentle memories filled her mind with nostalgia only to be struck with regrettable decisions she made. Her breath quickened. Her blue eyes shifted from plant to plant. Her chest grew heavier by the second. 

--

The booming echoes of gunshots softly dies down, relieving Virginia of her stress. She and most of the female states took refuge at a nearby town from Yorktown. Virginia prayed once more for the safety of her fellow states who are currently in the siege. Pressing her hands together, she began reciting. Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, Rhode Island, Maryland, South Carolina, and Georgia - her brethren. The thought of them getting hurt distressed her greatly. They don’t always agree on everything but she’ll be damned if they don’t mean anything to her. Little by little, she began relaxing, but that anxiety never left. Once the last words slipped from her mouth, she glanced at the other girls. The tension in the air was palpable. They could only hope that this period of silence would stay silent.

Some quotes,, things?: 

Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico: *closes the windows and curtains fiercely and quickly while peeking out every now and then*

Virginia: *crosses arms with a disappointed look* So what’s your excuse for today? 

Nevada: [whispers] I said shut up! *looks at Arizona and New Mexico who gave her a nod*

Arizona: We’re good. We can talk now.

Virginia: What illegal shit have you done this time?

--

South Carolina: What are you? Barely 300 years old? Makes sense. You’re so young!

Rhode Island: Careful South, you’ll make the entire void we call Midwest cry *snorts*

Virginia: When Washington wanted us to get along, I’m not quite sure this is what he meant

--

Virginia: *disgusted by the whole thing*

--

West Virginia: Oh come on! 

Maryland: Listen, no one will make fun of you.

Virginia: I will though!

--

DC: How the hell did you get in my house??

Maryland: Not important! As long as we’re together.

DC: Virginia?

Virginia: Like he said, not important.

--

DC: If you don’t mind a whole house has to be clean.

Maryland: See! He’s not gonna make us work.

DC: Who said I don’t need help?

Virginia: *smacks Maryland*

--

Maryland: For someone who lived almost practically alone for the past 150 years, he makes some messes.

Virginia: You know, this is your fault.

--

Virginia: I’ve said this once and I’ll say it again, your brother’s a dick

Delaware: I agree.

--

Virginia: Why the hell is this here? *points to Maryland*

--

1812

Virginia: Show me what you have

Kentucky: A gun!

Virginia: NO!

--

Smith: Ugh, don’t be like that. [sees Virginia] And don’t worry about the kid too. No reason for her to starve under your rule too.

[booklover4816]

Can we have a lil’ dirt on Kansas, Nebraska, the Dakotas and Hawaii? Plus I have an idea for Montana’s human name: Delphine Yvonne Jones. Delphine means dolphin and Yvonne means yew tree. I’m also picturing America having a voice recorder where he records samples of himself yelling the states’ human names, each file named StateNameHereHumanName and New Mexico, Arizona, Alaska and Hawaii found Montana’s human name on there, turned it up to full volume and revealed Montana’s human name.

Delphine’s a pretty name. I wish I would have thought about it a couple of years ago. Montana’s human name is Olivia, but she doesn’t really like being called that. America’s the only one allowed to call her that, to everyone else it is Montana. Pennsylvania and Georgia call her that when she’s in trouble, though. 

America does have a list of the state’s human names and birthday’s in the computer, though, because he’s such a dad. He forgets them all the time. Seriously, my dad always called me by my sister’s name and sometimes would ask me if my birthday’s in October (mine is in January, 2 days before his), and my dad only had 2 kids. So, America with his 50 would be so much worse with mixing up names and birthdays.

Let’s see, what can I tell you about Kansas, Nebraska, and the Dakotas? All four of them have wheat colored hair due to being Great Plains States -- it reflects the appearance of their lands. Kansas is kind of sickly due to not only the fact that she gets a lot of tornadoes, but also because of the history of Bleeding Kansas. Nebraska a huge agriculturalist -- like, he’s the ultimate farmer and would rather spend most of his days in the field than doing boring paperwork. And the Dakotas are practically identical twins that even America has difficulty telling them apart sometimes (he figures it out eventually) -- they, of course, use this for maximum mischief.

[greekowl87]

Fic: Under New Mexico Skies

Tagging @viceversawrites and @today-in-fic. AO3 link to the fic. The New Mexico Entry for the 50 States Collection done by @viceversawrites

A/N:  I've never been to New Mexico and I took some liberties as I did with this fic. But I used this image and these sounds for inspiration in trying to create the setting. I imagined this as a missing scene for ‘The Truth’ before Mulder and Scully end up in the motel room where they spend an extra night in the desert trying to lay low. Thanks to @clover-covered-hills for being an extra set of eyes. Hope it turned out okay. 

Mulder stoked the fire he had somehow built on the desert floor thanks in part to the survival supplies found in Knowle Rohrer’s black SUV. The dead super soldier wasn’t going to be using the SUV anymore. But being on the run again was nothing new Mulder and Scully, especially when it was them against the world. But this was somehow different for them. There was a sense of isolation and loneliness that seemed suffocating to them. Mulder hadn’t said anything, yet, to her but there was a growing sense of guilt twisted with anger growing inside of him. They should have never taken that first step in the natural evolution of their relationship. Maybe he never should have agreed to be Scully’s sperm donor. What about William then? The idea made his stomach twist into knots. Maybe he shouldn’t have left.

“I’m thinking we should maybe go north after a few days, Mulder. Wait and see what happens,” Scully said.

She opened up the back of the SUV to roll out some old blankets and sleep back to make themselves a makeshift bed. Mulder another some old newspaper balled it up and stoked the fire. Kneeling down, he watched the orange flames dance. “I think I saw some food in the SUV.”

“Just like camping,” Scully smirked. She dug through the bags and produced a half-open MRE. “With the exception of some Tabasco missing and coco mix, we have a meal to share. Seems particular, doesn’t it? But we got chili and mac and cheese to go along with some granola mix. That sounds disgusting actually. Chili in mac and cheese.”

“Did you say something, Scully?”

He saw her sigh and shake her head. “I think there’s enough here for both us.”

“I’m not hungry, Scully.”

“You need to eat something, Mulder. You’ve barely eaten anything in three days much less slept. Neither have I. We need to make sure we take care of ourselves.”

“You aren’t my mother, Scully.”

He pushed himself off his knees and stalked around the fire. He glanced at his partner and saw her pained look before it quickly disappeared between a neutral wall. “Well, you need to eat something.”

“I’m going to take a leak. I’ll be back.”

As Mulder stalked off some distance away, Scully read the MRE instructions quickly and set to preparing their food. She propped the cooking MRE up against the wheel and sat on the tailgate of the SUV. She leaned back and tried to imagine the brilliant night sky light like those stock photos they sold on calendars. It looked like someone had taken a handful of glitter and tossed it across the night sky; she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many stars. Her eyes could trace on the outlines of the Milky Way cut through the sea of stars. In the distance, the half moon cast enough light to see the rock formations in the distance in a cool blue glow. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the warm orange of the ancient formations splashed with light from the fire.

Scully tried to rake her mind and recollect the last time they had been in New Mexico? Maybe after Area 51 when she had found that penny and dime merged together in her bullpen desk. She had that weird coin thing stashed in a box that also contained William’s things and memories of their previous life. What were they now? What was going to happen to them?

She grew distracted by the crickets. Their chirping in mass created a low hum that seemed indistinguishable. Scully became lost in the symphony until she heard Mulder’s heavy footsteps coming back. They eyes met. “You okay, Scully?”

“Fine, Mulder. Just fine.”

“You’re always fine,” he grumbled. He picked up the MRE that had been cooking and offered it to Scully. “Your dinner is ready.”

“Our dinner,” she corrected. She took it and stirred the bag with the plastic spoon. “You treat me as if I am a plague victim.”

“No. I’m not.”

She focused on stirring the MRE as anger began to smolder in her veins. “Then what else do you call it?”

He remained and went back to needlessly focus on the campfire. “What do you want from me, Scully?”

“What are you talking about, Mulder?”

He suddenly stood up and kicked the sandy floor. A wave of dust swirled around him. “To say everything is fine? To go back to how things were?”

“How things were?” she asked exasperated.

“Before I left. Before William.” She winced. There it was.

“Back to when things were…”

Scully’s voice died in her chest just like any hope she had of them reconciling. She had gone off and done the unthinkable by putting their son up for adoption. She remembered the joy he had holding William for the first time. That brief 72 hour period where everything had come to be everything that they had hoped for. They had a family. There were no government mysterious or black op organizations chasing them. They had fought their battles, survived, and were rewarded for all the hardships they had endured with the child they had dreamed of. Until Kerch came and shattered that dream like a hammer to a mirror.

“Until what, Scully? Say it.”

“Until I gave up William. I couldn’t keep him safe, Mulder so I did the only thing I thought I could do.”

“Send him away from us?” He hissed venomously.

“Yes! Yes, that is exactly what I did. I didn’t know what else to do, Mulder! I had to kill a murderer in my son’s room with him inches away. My mother was physically assaulted trying to protect her grandson. I had no way to get a hold of you. What was I supposed to do, Mulder? What else could I do?”

“You could’ve held on a bit longer! I would have come!”

He kicked the ground in anger and cloud of red rose between them. “Would you? I gave up hope, Mulder,” she shouted at him. Tears were streaming down her face. In the firelight, Scully looked like a dying saint. “I gave up hope! And you? Why won’t you open up to me? Is this punishment for what I did? What did that smoking bastard mean?”

“It’s best you don’t know, Scully.” The distance between them seemed as wide as the Grand Canyon. She tried to choke back her sobs. The MRE contents fell off the tailgate of the SUV onto the desert floor. Mulder cleared his+ throat,  put his hands on his waist, and focused into the fire. “Maybe I should’ve let you long ago. Maybe we should have never gone down this road. I can’t bear to see you in pain, Scully. If I could heal you, I would. If I could spare you from having cancer, losing Emily, Melissa...your life…I would.”

“Don’t you dare say that!” She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Don’t you ever say that.”

Her tear streaked cheeks reflected the light from the fire. His cheek stung and he closed his eyes, savoring it. Mulder deserved it. He deserved her punishment. He deserved to be hated by her. He deserved her wraith. He closed his eyes and awaited her to strike him again.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Scully asked, pain raw in her voice. “Aren’t you doing to do something?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Be here now. Mulder, I made you a promise long ago. I will always follow you, no matter how dark the path gets. Don’t leave me behind. Please.”

“I’m a plague to you, a cancer.” He scoffed bitterly. “Let’s not forget I gave you cancer.”

“And you were also the only one who fought for me and gave me the cure against all odds. Don’t forget that! You showed me things I could only dream of, Mulder. You made me believe. You gave me the courage to believe, hope, and dream of something more than myself. I love you! Don’t you ever, ever think that you are a burden to me!”

She took a few hesitant steps towards him and ran her fingers lightly up his forearm. The springy hairs were soft and reminded her of a particularly intimated rainy night on the leather couch of his Alexandria apartment. He closed his eyes as her hand grew bolder and began to caress her cheek. “What do you do to me, Scully?” He whispered.

“I want you to remember. And forgive me. I want us to know we still have each other.”

His eyes opened and he breathed deeply. For the longest moment, they watched each other, entranced. The firelight danced across his small smile as he leaned his head back and watched the fingers of Milky Way dance across the purple ink sky. “Heaven,” he whispered thoughtfully.

“What?” Scully arched an eyebrow.

“Anywhere with you is heaven,” he clarified. “I forgot that. These endless months, being trapped in the Arizona desert without you...it killed me, Scully. It was killing me inside.”

“Well, I’m here now,” she told him determinedly. Her hand shook as she rested it over his heart. “And I’m not leaving. You can try all you want. I’m not leaving you.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against here's. “Do you remember the last time we were in New Mexico?”

The intimacy enclosed around them and she found herself wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Yes,” she whispered.

A coyote howled somewhere off in the distance and the crickets and insects intensified in their humming. Mulder wrapped his own arms around her waist, pulling her litter figure close. It had been so long since he had simply held her and could enjoy the moment. “The UFO. Area 51. I had memories of a leopard print bed.”

“I wish you’d have kept that mirror,” she smiled into his neck.

“You know,” he suggested huskily. “We never tried under a starry night with a campfire. We’ve made ourselves a comfy bed in the back of that SUV.”

“Keep that fire burning and I don’t want either of us driving through the night. We’re both spent.”

It had been too long since she had felt him against her. Mulder nipped at her collar bone. “I want you, Scully, worse than ever. I want to make you sing my name forever,” he continued. His hand curved around her buttock, squeezing it with all his strength. Scully clenched and surged forward. “I missed you.”

She let a trembling sigh escape and looked down between them. How long had it been since she had seen him so inflamed for her? She rubbed up against him. “It’s been too long, Mulder. I don’t know if I have much patience left.”

He walked her backward to the tailgate of the truck until she slid onto easily onto the nest of polyester sleeping bags. His fingers pressed into her firm thighs and he sighed in remembrance of them coiled around his waist with her heels riding him on. “You’re still the strongest person that I know, Scully.”

“I doubt that,” she choked. She forced a smile but as his hazel eyes remained locked with hers. “Mulder.”

“You know I am telling you the truth. Would I lie to you about something like that?”

“No,” she whispered.

Scully leaned back and spread her legs wider. He came closer and simply held her. The desert night was alive around them with the humming of insects. A coyote howled somewhere off in the distance. “Why did you come with me?”

Spotted owls answered somewhere off in the distance.

“I can’t lose you again. When you were first taken, I remember standing there in the desert, staring up into the sky.” Her nose caressed his collarbone as she nodded to the starry sky. “I felt you, Mulder. I knew I was so close but so far. I never felt such emptiness, even while I was carrying William. When you left…”

“I shouldn’t have,” he interrupted. He started to undo the buttons on her blouse. “That way at least you wouldn’t have given up William. We still could be a family. You would still have your son.”

“Our son,” she corrected softly. “Even you had stayed with the same dangers…” Scully took a deep breath. “I would make the same decision and I hope you would have too. I want him to be safe, Mulder.”

He felt that jagged glass caressing his heart and the rage that he was trying to temper. “I know,” he managed.

He started at the windshield of the SUV, past Scully and tried to imagine where William was now. “Mulder?”

“I’m fine.” He distanced himself from Scully’s embrace and leaned heavily next to her against the tailgate. “Maybe I should check the perimeter.”

“The perimeter is fine, Mulder.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “We’re fine out here. Mulder, is it me?”

“No. No.” He gave her a fake smile. “We’re okay.”

“No. We aren’t.” She slid back into a makeshift bed and slowly undid the buttons on her blouse. “Come here, Mulder.”

He felt the longing for her soothe away the frustrations. “Just for a moment, we can forget.”

“And reclaim what is ours,” she finished.

He stoked up the fire first a bit more with the dry wood before sliding back into the SUV. The polyester silk of the sleeping bags was smooth against his hand as he tried to find grip while sliding back into their bed. He caught the amused sparkle in her blue eyes and he shook his head. “Stop laughing, Scully.”

“I haven’t said anything, Mulder.” She moved to fix her shirt but Mulder’s commanding gaze kept her in place. “Do you want this? Do you want us?”

“I want everything about you, Scully.”

He scuttled closer until their thighs were touching. “It’s pretty cramped, huh?” She smirked.

“We’ve been creative before.”

Mulder caressed her cheek trying to remember the last time they had a moment where it was just between them. She kissed him soundly on his lips and pulled away slightly. It had been so long since either of them had tasted one another. Scully lounged against the SUV as Mulder moved closer. He wrapped his arm around her neck to pull her closer and to give her some cushion against the vehicle. “Imagine that fire in here.”

“I don’t fancy a vehicle fire, Mulder.”

“But the warmth,” he whispered hypnotically. “Do you remember the night we did it in front of your old fireplace?”

She closed her eyes as the surge of memory threatened to drown her. Her old fireplace. Did Georgetown suddenly become her old apartment? Was everything she...they had nothing but a distant memory now? She hesitated and Mulder sensed her changed demeanor. “Scully?”

She shivered suddenly as the cool desert air became noticeable. His calloused fingertips traced up and down her back as the last of her shirt fell away. “It’s nothing,” she whispered. “I just realized how distant...final things are. Kind of like realizing things after they’ve been done. Like…” Her voice faded and shook her head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything, Mulder.”

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“It’s not important.”

She shook her head. She could not allow herself to feel or to linger in the past. Suddenly, she was being swallowed and she felt like she was falling into a black cold sea that was slowly becoming suffocating. Falling, falling, falling. No one could catch her. No one could save her. William was gone. Mulder was gone. She was prepared to lose everything. No. Strike that, she had already lost everything. In that moment, she had disappeared.

“Scully? Scully.” Mulder was gently shaking her. She started to unconsciously shake her head as if willing it to disappear. He cupped her cheek desperately whispering her name. “Scully. It’s me. I’m right here. Open your eyes. I’m right here.”

Scully opened her eyes on command. She blinked trying to clear the vision but the nightmare seemed to persist. The orange firelight made the shadows of the back of the SUV and makeshift bed dance. “I’m in hell,” she murmured.

“Scully!”

His voice pulled at her again and she nodded blindly, resting her forehead against the crook of his neck. She breathed heavily as her hands clawed at the back of his black t-shirt. The memories of months alone without him, trying to protect their son, come out like a title wave. She cried his name against the stillness of the crickets. The spotted owl hooted in solidarity. Mulder closed his own eyes, remembering his own nights alone, and simply held her. “I should have never asked you to leave,” she whispered hoarsely. “I wanted to keep William safe. I wanted to give him a normal life. I didn’t know what else to do, Mulder. What was I supposed to do? Did I do the right thing for him? For us?”

Mulder pressed his forehead against her. The cold dry desert air stirred around them. “You did what you had to, Scully,” he whispered. He pressed a heated kiss to a brow, trying to will back his own shame and regret. “You’re keeping our son safe.”

“We did what we had to. Both of us,” she murmured. “We’re not perfect, Mulder.”

“Far from it.” He laughed cynically. “But I’m glad, no, eternally grateful and blessed you have been with me every step of the way, Scully.”

Something changed between them as she surged forward, tightening her arms around him like a web. She kissed him as if she didn’t, she would die. Mulder rocked with her, trying to gain a rhythm. “I missed you,” she gasped. “Every. Single. Fucking. Day.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“We’re here together. Now. I don’t care.” She pushed him onto his back, somehow ripping off the t-shirt in the process. Fresh bruises were scattered across his left ribs. Her deft hands caressed them lovingly as she straddled them. “I wish I could heal them, Mulder.”

“You are,” he whispered.

He lifted his left hand and gently brushed off the open blouse. The sweat-soaked silk bra vanished underneath his hand. Scully’s breath hitched as the cold air hit with new force and goosebumps up her arms and back. She leaned over him, dry humping slowly and enticingly. It had been too long since either of them had felt the warmth or love of each other. Scully squeezed him with her thighs. “It’s been too long,” she told him. “And I can’t wait.”

Mulder’s mind danced with previous encounters. He loved to worship her, mind, body, and soul. He wanted to make it clear in the beginning that it was about her. But tonight was different. Under the Milky Way, the stars to bear witness, and by the light of their poor campfire, he wanted to take her in one draught. With experience, he flipped them effortlessly. The crickets clapped with admiration.

“Cold,” she murmured, shutting her eyes tight.

The polyester sleeping bags were cool and Mulder ran his fingers down her side. Her breath hitched as she felt his calloused fingertips grace the puckered bullet wound against her stomach. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She shook her head and took off his own shirt. She breathed deeply as her cool skin touched his own warm abdomen. That was something else about him, she thought. She entertained a thought that she had not crossed her mind in years before they begin this first foray into each other’s personal space. He was always so warm and alive and it would curl her toes every single time they made love. This time was no different.

“No. It’s fine.”

Scully had imagined this reunion differently complete with a sleeping child in the next room and they would stifle their moans in laughter in a weak attempt to prevent waking a sleeping William. But now that fantasy was gone. Mulder stopped, sensing amiss. “What is it?”

“I just imagined things differently,” she whispered sadly.

They crawled beneath the covers, expertly removing the remains of their clothes, and pulling each other closer. “What did you imagine?”

“A happy ending.”

“Scully,” he started but found himself silenced as she started to kiss him again. Mulder could not remember a time where she was so calculating in each movement as if she was trying to prolong the inevitable despite the fact they wouldn’t lose each other again. “It’s okay. We’re okay. I’m not going to leave you again, never again. It was my fault…”

“No. It wasn’t,” she whispered. “It’s mine.”

“Stop it.” Mulder cradled her. He took a second to admire her long hair and imagine it between his fingers. “Scully, we did what we had to do. Both of us. We need to forgive each other.”

This seemed more deranged than any confessional but never had anything meant anything more. Forgive me, Father for I have sinned, passed silently on Scully’s lips as Mulder pressed his forehead against hers. She could not imagine a life without him. She had tried once and failed. William’s adoption was proof of that.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

“Only if you forgive me.”

“On the count of three.”

“This seems ridiculous.”

“Trust me. One.”

“I love you.”

“Me too. Two.”

“More than anything.”

“I know. Me as well. If words could express how I truly feel.”

“You’re here. With me. That is all that matters.”

“Three.”

The moment seemed frozen. The firelight danced in the back of their make-shift SUV bed. The moon shone brightly with Milky Way’s fingerprints tracing against the starry sky. The crickets sang with approval, growing louder near them. Somewhere, an owl and coyote joined in together. For years, Mulder amused himself with the untested theory that he and Scully could speak together on an unconscious level, either through body language or psychic phenomena based on how well they worked together. Even now, he counted his blessings.

“Forgiven,” they both breathed in sharing a reverent breath.

Scully was the first to laugh as the tension ebbed away from them. Mulder hadn’t heard that laugh since they went to the moving showing in L.A. “To the moon and back,” Mulder whispered.

“Whatever comes,” Scully answered.

Her fingers raked across his back with her nails leaving marks, claiming him once and for all. Mulder wouldn’t run again. He vowed to never abandon Scully again, no matter what, as long he still drew breath. Even then, if he could from beyond to make sure she was alright, he would. “Never again.”

“Moments like this,” she whispered playing with his long hair, “I wish I could remember forever.”

“I’ll remember for both of us.”

Mulder drew in a deep breath and tried to kiss her as resistant as she was. “Scully,” he whispered, “tell me. I’m here now. I am not going to disappear. I promise.”

The exclusion of their clothes brought familiar memories and sensations, better than any drug or drink that had ever been conceived. He pressed against her and she hissed in sensation. “It’s been too long, Mulder.”

With the ease of old lovers, he rubbed himself up against her before she guided him homewards. She closed her eyes and let the sensations take her. Words escaped her and she could only speak nonsensically. “Like a glove. No. Riding a bike...no. Mulder, help me.”

“Just stop talking,” he whispered. Mulder kissed her, ending the debate. “Just feel. I have dreamed of this, Scully. It’s been so long.”

“Almost a year.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I missed you. I missed this. Most of all, I missed us.”

Mulder bit gently into her shoulder as he began his slow, painful movements. The first wave came suddenly, taking both of them by surprise. But as it ebbed, she crossed her legs around his waist as the roomy sleeping bags. This isn’t what she had imagined as their reunion. Happier thoughts were gone but now, they had the present. Mulder kissed her again, eager to try to give her life, anything to keep her with him. “I’m not leaving,” she promised. “I won’t let you leave again either.”

There was something more magical about this movement. Her eyes rolled backward, ignoring the gray interior of the SUV and tried to focus all her senses on the moment. She saw glimpses of the moon beyond the tinted windows. The Milky Way was cloudy. But the warmth of the fire at her feet, Mulder on top of her moving oh so deliciously, and those damn crickets who seemed to have the best spot in the state of New Mexico. This is where she wanted to be. This was happiness. This was an eternity.

“Promise me, Mulder.”

She clenched, digging her heels into his buttocks, his muscles clenching, and they both held on for as long as they could. Seconds become minutes. Minutes become hours, hours into days, days into months, and months into years. Years at this point were dismissible. This moment was an eternity. They were forever. Nothing that could change their mind about that. Mulder grew in intensity, each stroke becoming more poignant. A crescendo of owls and crickets. announced the oncoming pinnacle of their unity.

“What?”

“Promise me that we won’t stand divided again,” she murmured.

“Not really the best time.”

“Just promise me, Mulder.” She forced him to look at her. “We can’t change the past. We can only move forward.”

He nodded wordlessly and he felt tears. Mulder did not know if it was his own or Scully’s. “Promise. I promise, Scully.”

A few more strokes were all it took before they screamed into the New Mexican desert air. A momentary silence surrounded them before the chorus started again. Mulder rolled away slightly and pulled Scully against him. She squeezed her slick thighs in memory before their legs and arms entangled. Mulder closed her eyes, kissing the little spot behind her ear. “Think we should shut the trunk?” She whispered.

“Then my feet wouldn’t hang out,” he replied. “Don’t worry, the fire isn’t going to die out. We’ve spent the night in worse places.”

“This has got to be one of the more creative places we’ve done” she smirked.

Scully felt satisfaction, a relief that she had not felt in a long time. “We better get used to it I guess,” he murmured. There it was again. That guilt. “I’m so sorry, Scully for putting you into this situation.”

“Mulder,” she whispered, twisting to face him, “haven’t you learned yet? I would follow you regardless. I do what I want and what I want is you. Nine years and I don’t regret a single moment. I know there are things that you refuse to tell me, Mulder. I understand that but we won’t be able to do this ourselves if we don’t communicate.”

He nodded wordlessly.

“We only have each other now.”

“I know,” he whispered.

Scully searched his hazel in the dying fire. She pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “We’re going to be okay, Mulder, even if you don’t believe it, we’re going to be okay.”

“Is that your faith in God talking?”

“Faith in you, in us.”

Mulder nodded with closed eyes. He opened them again. “I’ll show you a second time if you are up for it.”

She nodded with a weak smile. “Careful, we still have to drive into Roswell tomorrow.”

“I’m in no rush,” he whispered. “We got all the time in the world. We��ll rent a little motel room and figure out what to do, where to run.”

“We’ll be okay, Mulder,” she whispered. “I know we’ll be.”

“I hope so.” He kissed the fiery locks of her hair. “I really hope so.”

[route22ny]

Volunteers with the humanitarian aid organization No More Deaths walk with buckets of food and jugs of water on May 10 near Ajo, Arizona. (photo: John Moore/Getty Images)

***

6/22/2019

I gave water to migrants crossing the Arizona desert. The government charged me with a felony.

By Scott Warren Scott Warren is a geographer living in Ajo, Arizona.

AJO, Ariz. — After a dangerous journey across Mexico and a difficult crossing through the Arizona desert, someone told Jose and Kristian that they might find water and food at a place in Ajo called the Barn. The Barn is a gathering place for humanitarian volunteers like me, and there the two young men were able to eat, rest and get medical attention. As the two were preparing to leave, the Border Patrol arrested them. Agents also handcuffed and arrested me, for — in the agency’s words — having provided the two migrants with “food, water, clean clothes and beds.”

Jose and Kristian were detained for several weeks, deposed by the government as material witnesses in its case against me and then deported back to the countries from which they had fled for their lives. This week, the government will try me for human smuggling. If convicted, I may be imprisoned for up to 20 years.

In the Sonoran Desert, the temperature can reach 120 degrees during the day and plummet at night. Water is scarce. Tighter border policies have forced migrants into harsher and more remote territory, and many who attempt to traverse this landscape don’t survive. Along what’s become known as the Ajo corridor, dozens of bodies are found each year; many more are assumed to be undiscovered.

Local residents and volunteers organize hikes into this desert to offer humanitarian aid. We haul jugs of water and buckets filled with canned food, socks, electrolytes and basic first-aid supplies to a few sites along the mountain and canyon paths. Other times, we get a report that someone has gone missing, and our mission becomes search and rescue — or, more often, to recover the bodies and bones of those who have died.

Over the years, humanitarian groups and local residents navigated a coexistence with the Border Patrol. We would meet with agents and inform them of how and where we worked. At times, the Border Patrol sought to cultivate a closer relationship. “Glad you’re out here today,” I remember an agent telling me once. “People really need water.” In a town as small as Ajo, we’re all neighbors, and everybody’s kids go to the same school. Whether it was in the grocery store or out in the field, it was commonplace for residents and volunteers to run into Border Patrol agents and talk.

(Five myths about the U.S.-Mexico border)

Those kinds of encounters are rare these days. Government authorities have cracked down on humanitarian aid: denying permits to enter the Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge, and kicking over and slashing water jugs. They are also aggressively prosecuting volunteers. Several No More Deaths volunteers have faced possible imprisonment and fines of up to $10,000 on federal misdemeanor charges from 2017 including entering a wildlife refuge without a permit and “abandonment of property” — leaving water and cans of beans for migrants. (I face similar misdemeanor charges of “abandonment of property.”)

My case in particular may set a dangerous precedent, as the government expands its definitions of “transportation” and “harboring.” The smuggling and harboring laws have always been applied selectively: with aggressive prosecutions of “criminal” networks but leniency for big agriculture and other politically powerful industries that employ scores of undocumented laborers. Now, the law may be applied to not only humanitarian aid workers but also to the millions of mixed-status families in the United States. Take, for instance, a family in which one member is undocumented and another member, who is a citizen, is buying the groceries and paying the rent. Would the government call that harboring? If this family were driving to a picnic in the park, would the government call that illegal transportation? Though this possibility would have seemed far-fetched a few years ago, it has become frighteningly real.

The Trump administration’s policies — warehousing asylees, separating families, caging children — seek to impose hardship and cruelty. For this strategy to work, it must also stamp out kindness.

To me, the question that emerges from all of this is not whether the prosecution will have a chilling effect on my community and its sense of compassion. The question is whether the government will take seriously its humanitarian obligations to the migrants and refugees who arrive at the border.

In Ajo, my community has provided food and water to those traveling through the desert for decades — for generations. Whatever happens with my trial, the next day, someone will walk in from the desert and knock on someone’s door, and the person who answers will respond to the needs of that traveler. If they are thirsty, we will offer them water; we will not ask for documents beforehand. The government should not make that a crime.

***

“The Trump administration’s policies — warehousing asylees, separating families, caging children — seek to impose hardship and cruelty. For this strategy to work, it must also stamp out kindness.”

source: https://neilyoungarchives.com/#/news/1/article?id=I-Gave-Water-To-Migrants

[salmonthestoryteller]

Sharing a Drink They Call Loneliness

I’m not really sure this counts as a fix-it.  Seeing as I don’t make anyone happy in it.  But it was the ending I would have preferred to S1, so…

While Maria is in this, the only ship is Malex - her and MIchael’s interactions are not romantic.

Sharing a Drink They Call Loneliness A Roswell New Mexico Fanfic

Alex was sitting outside his airstream when he pulled his truck up.  He had said to come back last night, but he supposed he thought Alex would call or something.  He wasn’t dressed in the air force t-shirt from the previous evening, or the nondescript casual clothing he’d seen him wear around.  The leather jacket looked new, but it wasn’t a new look - not exactly.  There was a confidence to the way he was dressed and sitting that reminded Michael of a teenage boy who didn’t give a crap what the world thought.  Who refused to be anything but unapologetically himself.

His heart had been put through the ringer the past week, and he wasn’t sure he could handle this.  His words to Isobel from just a few hours before echoed back to him.

“I love him.  I probably always will.  But lately that love just hurts.”

Alex had stood, and the look on his face was concerned - not surprising considering he was sitting there in his truck just looking at him.  He probably looked like hell, to be honest.  He didn’t know why, but he found himself tucking his left hand into his pocket the moment he was out the truck door - away from where Alex could see it.  As if he could hide what Max had done, had taken, earlier.  He wasn’t ready to parse that out with Alex.  He wasn’t sure he was ready to parse anything out.

“Hey, you okay?”  Alex’s concern was obvious, and it tugged at him.

A piece of him wanted to seek comfort with him.  Another piece found it hard to look at him and not see Caulfield.  “Noah’s dead.”

Alex stared at him.  “I… what?”

“Apparently you knew about the serial killer?  Cam told you about it, before Max?  Kyle tell you it was Noah?”

“Yah, but he said he was locked down somehow.”

“He got out, and he attacked us.”  His right hand touched his neck, where traces of his own dried blood probably were if he looked.  He swore he could feel it under his fingers.  “Max took care of it.  So, problem solved.”

“Are you all okay?”

Michael gave an aborted half-laugh. He was pretty sure none of them were okay.  He wasn’t sure which of them were least okay, but not a one of them were okay.

“Let me rephrase that.”  Alex understood without him needing to explain further, because of course he did.  Michael wanted to hate him a little for understanding him so well.  “Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re all a little beat up, but nothing serious.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Apparently we were refugees.”  He wasn’t even sure why he was still talking at this point.  “That’s what Iz says Noah said.  We were refugees looking for a new place to live cuz our world’s a war torn mess.  And some asshole stowed away and crashed our spaceship.”

Alex winced.  "I know that’s not the answer you were hoping for.”

Michael ignored the statement.  “So not only did the last of the survivors besides us just get blown up, we don’t have a place to go back to.  So our console, my spaceship specs - I should just trash them, right?  Because it’s useless now?  Guess I really was wasting my life.”

“Hey, don’t.  Don’t do that.”  Alex took a step forward, but Michael backed away.

“I know I said we’d talk, but that was before… I can’t do this right now, Alex.”

“Do what?”  Instead of closing up, Alex only continued to look worried about him.  Of all the times to refuse to walk away, why did he have to choose now?

“You, me.  Whatever this is.”  He gestured between them.  “Last night… if you’d come to me like that two months ago, hell, two days ago, I would have been so ready to meet you in the middle.  But right now I feel like we’re on completely different trajectories and I can’t… I don’t see a place where they intersect anymore.”

Alex studied him for a moment, and when he stepped forward, Michael was tempted to back away again, but didn’t.  “I do.”  His voice was firm, not a shred of doubt.  When had things turned so completely around between them?  “But it’s okay if you don’t.  You’ve been through a lot.  Take time.  I’ll be here.”

“You don’t have to be.  You can-”

“I will do exactly what I want to do.  Try and stop me, Guerin.”  Alex’s lips curved into a small smile.  “If you need space, I’ll give you space. I’ll be here when you’re ready to come back down.”

Michael ignored the piece of him that wanted to lean forward and kiss the smile off his face. “Like a crash landing?”

“Well, hopefully nothing so dramatic.”

“With you it’s always a crash landing.”

Alex’s eyes went wide at the confession, and he took another step forward.  This time Michael found himself retreating again, and moving to the side to go to his trailer.  Alex didn’t try to stop him and when he closed the door behind him, he leaned against the nearest wall.  When had he become the one who walked away?

—–

Maria turned at the sound of footsteps, somehow not surprised to see Michael.  How did he get in time and again passed the locked front doors?  She wasn’t sure whether he was just that good at picking locks, or if he’d stolen a key at some point.

“Let me guess.  You’re closed?”

Maria paused.  Michael’s eyes looked bloodshot, and his aura was screaming of defeat.  Of shattered hope.  “One drink?”

“One drink.  No talking.”  Michael returned.  Her words from the night months ago when he’d comforted her.

Maria nodded, and went behind the bar to pour the promised drink.  Michael had approached the stage, and was picking up the guitar.  “Do you mind?”

Maria shook her head, setting his drink down on the bar top so she could return to her work.  The tune that played out was surprisingly good.  She remembered him jesting about wanting to be a rock star to Arizona, but she supposed she’d never considered if there’d been any truth to it. Had he played guitar when they were younger?  He’d hurt his hand right before graduation, if she remembered right.

When she glanced at the stage, it was obvious Michael was lost in his head.  She was pretty sure he’d completely forgotten her presence in the room.  As the song came to an end, his smile was a mix of relief and pain she wasn’t even sure she could begin to untangle.  He flexed his left hand from the sudden use, drawing her attention to it, and time froze.  His hand was no longer mangled as it had been the past ten years of their lives.  The bones were set right again, and the skin was unscarred.

When he set the guitar down and came to the bar top, she finally looked up at him. “Guerin…”

Michael shook his head.  “Seriously, DeLuca - no talking.”

She’d said that too him, too, if she recalled right. She nodded her understanding, pouring her own drink.  They were sharing space, but Maria was pretty sure they were a thousand miles away from each other in that moment - even as they both raised their glasses and drained them.

Fini

[cyle]

Chris is my hero

story time. this one goes all over the place, so buckle up. 90s kids are gonna cringe extra heavy.

The first CD I ever owned was Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californication, which I begged my parents for when it came out. They eventually bought it for my 13th birthday (eight months later) and my mom warned me that she’d “take it away if there are any swears”. She proceeded to listen to the first song, “Around the World”, which of course has “motherfuckin’” in the first verse. She was appalled and shocked in the way only a mother can be, but let me keep the CD anyway, on the condition that I didn’t let my younger siblings listen to it and I never played it on anything other than my headphones.

I never bought or was given many other CDs -- maybe four or five -- but I pirated tons of music and burned loads of CDs in my time, and I had the Hot Topic huge-pocket pants so I could keep a CD player in my pocket at all times. In my backpack was a slim CD holder with the three or four CDs I wanted to carry on myself at all times, and one of them was always Californication. I’m not gonna try to argue that the album is amazing or anything (the mastering is notoriously among the worst of all time despite being produced by Rick Rubin) but it was just a staple of my teenage years, alongside Massive Attack’s Mezzanine and Deftones’ White Pony. Those CDs were just always with me from ages 13 to 18, and were the first things I put on my first iPod.

Fast forward many years... I thought it was March 2009 but it turns out it was January 2011... I went on a cross-country trip with an exgirlfriend and I brought along that small pack of the CDs that I owned, because all we had in the Subaru we were driving was the CD player and the radio (no aux cable). We stopped somewhere in New Mexico or Arizona to take pictures of the sunset or something and I took out that CD pack and put it on the roof of the car for whatever reason... and we drove away five minutes later. You can already guess what happened.

About fifty miles later, the CD we were listening to (I can’t remember what it was) ended, but we were pulling in to a hotel for the night so I left it in there.

The next morning we kept driving west, listening to some weird gospel radio stations, and probably sometime mid-afternoon I reached to the back seat to grab my CD case... and of course instantly realized that I had left it on the roof last night, three hundred miles ago, and it was probably in the dust on the side of the road. Long gone. We were definitely not going back for it.

To be honest, I wasn’t really that bummed about it, because we were only a day or so away from our destination and the CDs were just Californication, some Alice in Chains, and some hastily-made mixes for the road trip. I wasn’t really listening to CDs anymore anyway -- by that time I had an iPhone and was using that exclusively for my constant music-listening. (I am still one of the few remaining curmudgeons who purchases mp3s from places like Bandcamp and puts them on my iPhone instead of using Spotify or Apple Music.)

Despite it seemingly like no big deal, I distinctly remember having some kind of wicked nightmare a week or so later, in which I was desperately scratching around in the Arizona dust next to a highway with cars zooming by at a million miles an hour, desperate to find that Californication CD that my mom had been so upset about. I remember crying really hard in the dream and waking up desperately concerned, but the emotion dissipated as quickly as the dust had settled behind our awful Subaru.

I don’t know why but this whole ordeal popped into my head sometime last week while at work -- memory is strange and fun like that -- so I decided to drop a brief mention of it in a newsletter I send around the company every week (Cyle’s Engineering Gazette™) just to see if anyone would catch it amongst the somewhat-actually-useful information:

Of course, a few people did notice, and @fetherston went so far as to start a GoFundMe to get me a new Californication CD. To say that we at Tumblr take jokes too far is an understatement, which is one of the biggest reasons I love working here. It nearly instantly reached its donation target, thanks to possibly one special person:

Though somehow I don’t think that’s really Guy Fieri, a boy can dream. Lo and behold, as of today I have a Californication CD again:

... though I’m unsure whether or not I have the means of playing it. But for now, the nightmare is over. Thanks, Chris!

[canonlgbtqcharacters]

Hi! I was wondering if you happened to know of any wlw books that start out w the mc not knowing she likes girls and slowly realizing as the book goes on. Sorry that this is super specific, i understand completely if you cant think of any! Thank you!

I can’t necessarily get any slowly realizing, since I can’t really be sure of how fast things happen if I haven’t read the book, but I can get questioning in the beginning of the book & figures it out at some point. I’ve only read the last one I list (which also doesn’t really fit, but does have the character figuring out her feelings & how to be okay with them).

I’m going to put it under a cut so I can put the synopsis of each book (& a goodreads link! since they so conveniently link to like a dozen sites to buy)

I’m sure there are more, and some that fit better, so I encourage people to add more!

Sam and Ilsa’s Last Hurrah by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn

Siblings Sam and Ilsa Kehlmann have spent most of their high school years throwing parties for their friends—and now they’ve prepared their final blowout, just before graduation.

The rules are simple: each twin gets to invite three guests, and the other twin doesn’t know who’s coming until the partiers show up at the door. With Sam and Ilsa, the sibling revelry is always tempered with a large dose of sibling rivalry, and tonight is no exception.

One night. One apartment. Eight people. What could possibly go wrong? Oh, we all know the answer is plenty. But plenty also goes right, as well…in rather surprising ways.

I haven’t read this, but hey: David Levithan! And apparently Rachel Cohn is a well-known name but I only recently started paying attention to authors. I have heard mixed reviews though, some saying it’s great and some saying they were expecting more from 2 big YA authors.

Like Water by Rebecca Podos

In Savannah Espinoza’s small New Mexico hometown, kids either flee after graduation or they’re trapped there forever. Vanni never planned to get stuck—but that was before her father was diagnosed with Huntington’s disease, leaving her and her mother to care for him. Now, she doesn’t have much of a plan at all: living at home, working as a performing mermaid at a second-rate water park, distracting herself with one boy after another.That changes the day she meets Leigh. Disillusioned with small-town life and looking for something greater, Leigh is not a “nice girl.” She is unlike anyone Vanni has met, and a friend when Vanni desperately needs one. Soon enough, Leigh is much more than a friend. But caring about another person stirs up the moat Vanni has carefully constructed around herself, and threatens to bring to the surface the questions she’s held under for so long.

Again, I haven’t read this, but Sanannah doesn’t know she’s not straight at the beginning of the book

Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert

When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (along with her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support.

But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse.

I’ve heard some good things about this book, though I do worry about Lionel being bipolar driving the plot. But it definitely has Suzette figuring out her sexuality!

Otherbound by Corinne Duyvis

Amara is never alone. Not when she's protecting the cursed princess she unwillingly serves. Not when they're fleeing across dunes and islands and seas to stay alive. Not when she's punished, ordered around, or neglected.She can't be alone, because a boy from another world experiences all that alongside her, looking through her eyes.Nolan longs for a life uninterrupted. Every time he blinks, he's yanked from his Arizona town into Amara's mind, a world away, which makes even simple things like hobbies and homework impossible. He's spent years as a powerless observer of Amara's life. Amara has no idea . . . until he learns to control her, and they communicate for the first time. Amara is terrified. Then, she's furious.All Amara and Nolan want is to be free of each other. But Nolan's breakthrough has dangerous consequences. Now, they'll have to work together to survive--and discover the truth about their connection.

Not exactly that they don’t know they’re wlw, but we definitely see some of Amara coming to terms with her feelings & it’s a very good book. It doesn’t focus on any kind of relationships either. Mostly I just wanted to recommend a fantasy book with WLW.

[julietlofarophoto]

Jean White

Deming Street, Woodstock NY, Tuesday January 17, 2019

Juliet: What first brought you to Woodstock?

Jean:  I was born here. My grandmother, Sarah MacDaniel Cashdollar was born and grew up on Overlook Mountain. She married a young man, Wilbur Cashdollar and they came down to the village to start married life. They rented the cottage from Mr. Lasher which is now The Woodstock Library. After a year or so, they were expecting their first child and returned to the mountain to be near the family.

Juliet: “The mountain”, as in, MacDaniel Road…

Jean: (laughs) Yes, my mother was one of seven children She worked with my grandmother at the boarding house (now Cumberland Farms). Earlier, because Sarah had five daughters she thought they would be able to manage the telephone switchboard which was in the building on the corner of Neher and Tinker Streets. And then, through the efforts of a family friend who spent much time in New York City, my mother Ethel took an intensive course with Harper Method, a new system developed for hair and beauty care. She had what we think was the first beauty shop of it’s type in Woodstock in a corner section of the house immediately behind Joshua’s on Tannery Brook Road.

Juliet: Do you know how your parents met?

Jean: It must have been about 1930. My father worked for a construction company. He was from North Carolina. You had to go wherever the jobs were. So he came and was living at the Woodstock Hotel. It was on the site of the present Longyear Building at the corner of Rock City Road and Mill Hill. There was a fire there, and the hotel burned. He came down and stayed at the Homestead Boarding House and that’s how they met! They bought the house across the street before I was born. I do remember it having a garage and an outside toilet attached to the garage. We did have a bathroom inside, but I’m not sure if it was added after they bought it or if it was already installed .

Juliet: Did you live in any other residence while you were growing up?

Jean: No, but we did go to Ohio with my father. He was working on Wright-Patterson Field in Dayton. My mother, sister Susan who was about 2, and I went with him for about a year or so. We were there during Pearl Harbor Day. When my brother came along, my father just went by himself when he had to go to jobs and we remained in Woodstock and attended school. He had a very early death.  He was killed in an accident when he was 40. My mother raised the three of us by herself with the love of family. There were very difficult times but the love we shared held us all together.

Juliet: What is your first memory of Woodstock?

Jean: You know in some psychology classes they ask “What is your first memory?” I remember the sand box by the old apple tree in our back yard.! But of Woodstock itself? It was always a part of me. My grandmother lived across the street. There was a constant back and forth, with very little road traffic. I used to go up to  little grocery store where the Joyous Lake was, owned by brothers Leslie and Clyde Elwyn. Their houses were right down on Pine Grove just before the Women’s Health Clinic.  The houses are next to each other and the same design. You can still see them! I was thinking this morning, the store had a little meat department in it. My mother would send me with a note and  list. There was a ramp that was fascinating to me. I think it’s gone, but maybe underneath it’s still there. You would enter the store by going up a ramp running along Mill Hill Road and then enter the store on your left. It was made of cement. So my earliest memory was that I was always living here and I can’t really put my finger on it.

We went to school near  the corner of Deming street. Deanie’s Restaurant was on the corner. It was a brown rustic looking building then.  Right next to it is a red building, I think it’s Castaways. We went to Kindergarten on one end of it, then first and second grade on the other end.

Juliet:  And then you went to the one that was right by your house.

(Her home was between what is now CVS and Ulster Savings Bank. The former school building still stands right behind CVS)

Jean: That’s right.

Juliet: Did you graduate high school here?

Jean:  No, Woodstock only went to eighth grade. Then at that time, we went to Kingston.

Juliet: WOW.

Jean:  I’m not sure how that worked because there were no school buses. I guess the Township paid the bus company Pine Hill or whatever it was then. They were black and white buses. They would take us down with the commuters and everybody. After 3 o’clock the buses would all come behind the high school to pick us up. It was the same building as Kingston High school today, although they’ve added on a lot!

Juliet: When did you leave?

Jean:  I graduated  high school in ’52 and went to Pratt Institute Brooklyn for four years. There were some circumstances during that time … I became very interested in Native Americans. I decided I’d like to go and teach on a reservation. It was a big megillah to get certified to do that. They didn’t certainly need an art teacher, which was my training. Through a long haul, one of my professors said “Why don’t you just go to Washington, and the Department of Interior Bureau of Indian Affairs and just see? You’re not making any headway writing letters.” So I made an appointment and I went to Washington. They told me “You have enough credits to be a Guidance Advisor” (laughs) “Would you go wherever you’re needed?”. So by that point I said “YES”,  and I went to Arizona. I was a guidance advisor but I ended up teaching first grade for half a year because the teacher they hired didn’t get there until January.

Juliet: Where were you exactly?

Jean: Keams Canyon, Arizona. It was 88 miles from Holbrook, Arizona. 100 miles from Gallup, New Mexico. They were the two closest…metropolises. It was the Hopi reservation surrounded by the Navajo. The children at the school were Hopi and Navajo primarily.  There were also some Anglo kids from a few teachers.

Juliet: What was your path back to Woodstock?

Jean: I really wanted to have more adventures so from there I drove the car back to Woodstock and was here for the summer the next year. I had gone to an Art Education  conference in Los Angeles while I was on the reservation. I took the bus there.  I met a rep from Special Services Department of the Army. They had wonderful job opportunities in Korea, Germany, and France. I thought “Oh, Korea is only a year, I’ll go there”. So I signed to work with enlisted men’s dependents. It wasn’t for officers. The idea was to keep them from getting mixed up in drinking in the towns, and causing trouble. That all got changed after I went to New York to have all the shots for Korea. The program in Korea was ‘frozen’ and I went to Germany for a year and a half. I met a man who became my husband. We got married here in the Dutch Reformed Church and moved to New Jersey because that was where he was working. I had some art teaching experience there with some good administrators. We were married about 23 years and then divorced. I continued to come to Woodstock all during this time.  My mother lived here in a little house just off Elwyn Lane and my dear daughter and I would come for summers and weekends. She and her husband built a lovely house on Plochmann Lane. Eventually, I met a really nice man. He loved the theater and he didn’t want to be too far from New York. I said “You might like Woodstock”.  We kept coming up and looking for a place to live. Someone told us about a house on Broadview which was out of our price range. As we drove down Deming Street we saw a little sign on this lawn that said “For Sale”. That would have been the late 80’s, we bought this house in ’89.

Juliet: So I could ask you what you think has changed since 1989, but you’ve seen everything in the last seven decades.

Jean: You know I’m very grateful Juliet, for one thing. It’s terrible that  buildings were torn down, my house and the Homestead because they were very nice buildings with lots of character. What’s in place of them you know, parking lots and Cumberland Farms…  but I think those incidents maybe kind of spurred the zoning  process into action. I’m not sure. I don’t think they were so willing to allow people to tear down buildings after that.

Juliet: I think it really must have changed the flavor.

Jean: Where Bradley Meadows is was just a lovely open field. My mother and father, just before he died, had signed papers to buy a little house that was right next door to them which had been the Christian Science church. It was very small, built in 1920, on this side of our house right there where CVS is. The congregation had purchased the former summer school of The Art Student’s League of New York where they are now, across from the hardware store. That was built in 1912 and they vacated it in ’22.  My parents bought that little church next door and they rented it. Eventually they sold it to my aunt and uncle. I remember one night, when I was about 13 … I was ironing in that house, looking out. I saw in Bradley Meadows, a flame. I ran over to my grandmother’s across the street. There was a man who lived in the back in a little studio next to the garage. He ran out and we saw it was a hammer and sickle burning. That was startling to me to see that. This would have been the late 40’s. At that time, the Ku Klux Klan was burning crosses on the other side of town, periodically. I never saw it but I heard about it.

What I was going to say that what I”m really grateful for is the businesses that have gone into the houses along Mill Hill Road and Tinker Street who have tried to  to keep them as much as it works. I like that. I so appreciate  the people who came into town in the sixties and created their businesses and contribute to the community. And they are a part of the community. Whereas today I see more people coming in speculating and grabbing up real estate and  wanting to make money from the Woodstock name. It’s too bad I think, because I don’t see a whole lot of becoming part of the community. There is a sense of “What can I get out of Woodstock?” rather than “How can I become a part of this wonderful vital diverse community?” The special aura that has brought folks here for many years is the appreciation of the quiet beauty and spiritual nature of this creative place… this Woodstock.

There are about 6000 residents and I’m not sure if this is correct but I think it’s 60% of homeowners are part time people. So that leaves a small amount to do the Fire Department, the Rescue Squad, all of those volunteer things. It’s unfortunate. Woodstock more or less has a population that leans on the older end of the age scale. We need more young people, more families.

It’s still lovely to walk around Woodstock. I must say I know fewer and fewer people. I think it’s unfortunate that folks who have lived here for many years can’t afford to stay here and their children are looking at the same picture. Real estate prices have risen from the demand of part time folks or B and B landlords that it  prevents a lot of people from being able to stay in Woodstock. These are the folks who maintain our volunteer Fire Department and all the other organizations that support the residents..

Juliet: What is your favorite thing about living in Woodstock?

Jean: I have always loved the interaction with people from all walks of life. When I was working at Deanie’s in the summers, the theater would be open, the Playhouse. The actors would come up after the performance, the bakers would come out from the kitchen and there would be a song fest, right there among the tables! It was just a marvelous interaction of people. I have always loved that. I have lived in New Jersey in suburbia, where so much is the same, people seemed to be so much the same.

It’s just like a little world here in Woodstock. I know it’s not that complete of a melting pot, but it’s getting there. We are more and more diverse. I guess that’s what I like. There’s so much activity. You can find anything if you want to go out and do something. Everything from poetry reading to gymnastics classes and meditation groups and whatever.  Woodstock as you know has such a big volunteer community. We were active in Meals on Wheels for several years. You had teachers and realtors and homemakers working. I like diversity and…the strong personalities!

Juliet: YEAAAAH! (we both crack up laughing)

Jean: I just hope Woodstock is able to maintain itself as a real community where it’s welcoming to those who really want to settle here and be part of the vitality.…

Here’s an illustration, I love this. I would hardly think this would happen: I kept my mother’s little house and rented it for a lot of years. Just before Christmas, the 22nd, a friend who lives on Neher Street was having an open house. So I said I’d go there, and then come back here because I had another event to go to for my stepdaughter. I went to the warm and lovely open house and had a grand time. It was filled with folks I knew and some new friends. When I came back here my phone rang as I was getting ready to go and my tenant who's been there many years called. She says "Jean, the guys  from the water department were here and turned off the water. There was a big leak. They are going to call you.”  So I said “Okay I’ll stay here”.  Larry Allen from the water department called and was so nice and said  he was so sorry but it was my responsibility to get that repaired. SO the water is off. Larry gave me names of people I could call and with his involvement, it all worked out within a few days. It was all repaired. But that same day at the open house, the Town Supervisor  Bill McKenna walked in to the open house and asked "Is Jean White here?" They said “She was, but she just left” He said “Well, the water pipe at her house burst!” Obviously there's communication between the departments. I just thought that was very nice. I felt a real part of this community. I called Bill. It was Christmas Eve and he was at his office. I don’t know if I would have experienced that if I were a newer person, but I've been around a while. I think getting involved with the community gives you a real home. I LOVE living in Woodstock. There are such interesting and caring people who make Woodstock where I want to be.