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#Patrick: I’m teaching myself how to be free
pepi1989 · 12 days
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Rain Delay - Art Donaldson
Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader
Warnings: None
Author's Note: Hey everyone! This one is short (a little over 2k words). Art hangs out with friends reader, Tashi and Patrick. Just when the fun is in full swing, a sudden rainstorm forces everyone to seek shelter. While waiting for the rain to pass, Art and reader start sharing more about themselves, and the chemistry between them is undeniable.
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The sun was shining brightly as I stepped onto the tennis courts, ready for practice. I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought of spending more time with Art. The moment I arrived, he greeted me with a warm smile that made my heart flutter.
We started hitting balls back and forth, the sound of rackets and sneakers on the court filling the air. Art’s easygoing nature made me feel at ease, and we shared laughter and playful banter as we played. Tashi and Patrick soon joined us, adding to the fun. Tashi was full of energy, her laughter infectious, while Patrick was always quick with a joke.
“Don’t go easy on her, Art! She’s been practicing,” Patrick shouted, winking at me.
“Yeah, right! You’re just scared I’ll beat you next,” I teased back, grinning as I served another ball.
Art smirked, “Bring it on! But don’t be surprised if I leave you speechless.”
“More like confused,” I shot back, laughing as I sent another shot his way.
We continued our playful exchange, and as I scored a point, Art pretended to trip over his own feet. “Careful! You might need a safety net!” I joked, shaking my head.
“Maybe I should start charging you for lessons,” I teased. “But I’ll throw in a free ‘how to avoid tripping’ tutorial.”
“Deal! Just don’t trip over your own racket while you teach me!” he replied, laughter dancing in his eyes.
But just as we began to find our rhythm, dark clouds rolled in, and a sudden downpour interrupted our practice.
“Come on!” Art said in an annoyed voice, leading the way as we all dashed for cover.
We huddled together under shelter, laughter mixing with the sound of rain drumming against the roof. After a few moments, I noticed Art glancing at me, his expression shifting from playful to something more sincere.
“Guess we’re stuck here for a while,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Yeah, I didn’t think practicing tennis would come with a rain delay,” I replied, trying to keep the mood light. My heart raced as our eyes met, the space between us feeling charged with an unspoken tension.
As the rain continued to pour, I found myself in a quieter corner with Art, away from the playful banter of Tashi and Patrick. The sound of the rain created a soothing backdrop, and the moment felt intimate.
“I never realized how much tennis means to me until recently,” Art admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked out at the rain, lost in thought. “It’s not just a game; it’s a part of who I am.”
I felt a surge of empathy. “I get that. Sports have always been my escape. It’s where I find my focus and passion.”
As we shared our stories, I could see a different side of Art emerging his vulnerabilities, his dreams, and the pressure he felt to succeed. Our connection deepened with every word, and I realized that beneath his confident exterior was someone just as eager to be understood.
When he turned to me, a soft smile lit up his face. “I’m really glad you came today. I have a lot of fun with you”
My heart raced at his words. I had been hoping for a moment like this, where it felt like the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us. There was something special in the air, a promise of what could be.
As the rain began to ease, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. “So, what’s next when the rain stops?” I asked, my tone playful.
Art grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ready to see if you can keep up with me on the court?”
“Bring it on! Just try not to trip over your own feet this time,” I shot back, a teasing smile on my lips.
Art laughed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know that was a strategic move to throw you off your game!”
We shared a laugh, and as the rain finally stopped and the sun broke through the clouds, I knew that this day was just the beginning. There was something between us, an undeniable connection that neither of us could ignore. And as we returned to the court, I felt hopeful about what the future might hold.
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princepaddy · 2 years
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‘I wanted all eyes on me’ – The OA and Shadow and Bone star Patrick Gibson on his acting pedigree
After the Netflix series that gave Patrick Gibson his break-out role was cancelled, it was no doubt tempting to jump at the next thing that came along. But the Dubliner — who has been acting since age eight — has chosen his roles carefully to forge a long-term career. It helps that he’s had his thespian parents, Lenny Abrahamson, and a clown professor to guide him.
A solidarity exists among those who survived hotel quarantine during the pandemic. On encountering a fellow detainee in the free world, an immediate bond forms over a shared experience in enforced confinement, and occasionally, so does a dynamic of oneupmanship.
“A fortnight without an open window,” I’ve smugly responded of my own quarantine episode, to those who underwent a mere week to 10 days with a terrace. “It was tough, yet strangely cathartic, and actually quite spiritual in some ways,” I then deliver with a martyred air.
Consequently, I feel completely diminished by Patrick Gibson’s multiple bouts with room-serviced captivity. “I think I did it five times,” the actor casually estimates, scratching a whiskered chin. “Once in Australia, once in America and a couple of times while going back and forth between the UK and Belgium.”
He’s unsure how long in total, something I chalk up to a coping mechanism from the residual trauma. “Maybe,” he agrees. “I mean, the days blended into each other. I did keep a video diary as a way not to lose my mind, but I’m too terrified to look back at it now. And I had it easy compared to some of my friends who’re actors. A couple I know were in and out of quarantine once a month.”
With each stint in confinement preceding an acting job, Gibson explains that all delivered the perfect duration in which to learn lines; to find a character’s motivation, and even workshop with a clown professor. Yes, you read that right — a clown professor.
“I was quarantining in Brisbane to work on a film I was shooting in Australia called The Portable Door which has a lot of physical comedy in the script, something I’ve never done. I’ve never done comedy — there’s actually nothing scarier than doing comedy because the reaction is so much more immediate. You know if you do something and people don’t laugh, you’re in trouble. It’s not as nuanced as drama.
“So I did workshops on Zoom with a clown professor. He’s an amazing movement coach teaching in one of the best drama schools in Australia. And it was about facing the fear of falling on your face, which is at the core of clowning; getting comfortable with that, not giving a shit if you make an idiot of yourself. It was actually way more philosophical than I expected. The theory of clowning is so fascinating.”
I’m disappointed with the distinct lack of clown tropes in his account of the experience: no red squeaky nose, no water-squirting flower. There must have been some slapstick involved.
“There was a physical [slapstick]. He would get a chair, give himself a simple task to unfold the chair and do a 60-minute routine, which was hilarious. And I learned from that, just doing simple things and allowing myself to flow with it. He’d have me waving my arm around, and then he’d click his fingers, and I’d be waving the other one, or my leg, or some other crazy action. Jumping up and down. Using my whole body.
“If I was being monitored [during quarantine], they’d have thought I was losing it in there.”
It’s Friday evening in Los Angeles. Gibson (27) who found fame with the Netflix cryptic fantasy series The OA, talks to me from his hotel room. “At least this one I can come and go from,” he laughs with a drawn-out titter.
He periodically repositions the camera during our video call, often at an upward angle, which for most of us would manufacture a furl of unfortunate chins, but only serves to enhance his pale, cinematic features.
The Dubliner, raised in Stillorgan and schooled at Gonzaga College in Ranelagh, is on a flying visit to meet his agents, Dar Rollins and Andrew Kurland at Creative Artists Agency (CAA), who between them represent and negotiate for screen luminaries such as Michael Keaton, Samuel L Jackson and Sarah Michelle Gellar.
I’m imagining the agency as an open-plan office, with blinding white furnishings, floor-to-ceiling views of the Hollywood sign, and skittish assistants clumsily clutching scripts and offering green juices. “Well no, not quite,” Gibson smiles.“ But we went for a coffee on a roof of some fancy hotel, which was still very LA.”
Since a breakout role as a disaffected delinquent in The OA — a supernatural, sometimes baffling series, circling near-death experiences and alternate universes — Gibson has ricocheted from sumptuous costume saga in The Spanish Queen; to Gen Z romcom In A Relationship, alongside Emma Roberts; and a West End stage debut in Lynn Nottage’s Pulitzer-winning Sweat.​
Meanwhile, the fruits of his quarantine labour are set for imminent release, including a second season of Channel 4 crime series Before We Die; independent teen drama, Good Girl Jane, lauded at the recent Tribeca Film Festival and a central role in the next run of Netflix mega-hit Shadow and Bone.
As a rule, agents largely guide and counsel an actor towards success, while sometimes inadvertently steering them into failure. Does Gibson feel comfortable placing his full faith in his LA-based representatives?
“Good agents, who you feel completely at ease with, who understand your goals and what’s right for you, they will have your back. And [my agents] have my back. Right now, there’s so much content being made with all the streaming platforms, it’s important to know the next thing you’re going into is right for you. Because once you’re in, it’s a big commitment.
“Shadow and Bone, that’s six months of the year. That’s a massive project to sign on for, so it’s important to have a team of people to discuss with, feel it out. Some have their own motivations and will encourage you to work on something that serves the immediate, rather than the long-term plan. A good agent will encourage you to say no if you need to.”
At just 27 and still in the infancy of his career, is saying no to work frightening? “Saying no is scarier than saying yes but it shouldn’t be. Also, if you say no to something, people can then assume you’re not working but I don’t think it’s good to make decisions over what others might think of you.”
For Gibson, performance is in the DNA. His parents, Irish mum Kate and his dad, Richard, who was born in Uganda and raised in the UK, met and fell in love as actors on London’s West End. “One of them was doing a Noël Coward play I think, I can’t remember what the other was [doing].”
While Kate walked away from acting, ultimately transitioning into marketing, Richard continued his career on stage and screen, notably doing a 10-year stint as Nazi buffoon Herr Flick in the iconic BBC sitcom ’Allo ’Allo!.
During summer breaks from school, young Patrick and his older brother Billy played backstage during Richard’s touring stage productions, mingling with cast and crew. For Patrick, a seed was planted. “The costumes, the transformative atmosphere, the creativity — it captured my imagination.”
Gibson tagged along to his father’s theatrical agency in Dublin, communicating his desire to act. Aged eight, he landed his first commercial for Vodafone and enrolled in afterschool drama classes, the latter a futile exercise.
“I remember briefly doing Betty Ann Norton, Billie Barry [stage schools], and my parents being told, ‘This kid is not designed to be in this environment, he’s too mental’. I imagine I was incredibly annoying to teach; must have been a nightmare. I had no interest in group collaboration. I wanted all eyes on me.”
This unapologetic self-interest proved rewarding on the local audition circuit, with Gibson and his brother cast as Liam Cunningham’s sons in a 2007 RTÉ production of Maeve Binchy’s Anner House. Shot in Cape Town, it’s the only time Gibson has travelled to the African continent. While far removed from his father’s childhood home in Uganda, it gave Richard the opportunity to introduce his children to a taste of his African upbringing.
“Dad left Africa when he was 10, moved to London when his father was working there and he had a mad transition. Uganda was all he knew, and he’s told us how wonderful it was to grow up there and then he moved to the UK where it was grey and miserable. So being able to revisit Africa with us as kids was significant for him. He brought us to Kruger National Park, which isn’t in Uganda but he had been there as a child and it was a special trip for all of us.”
By the time Gibson attended Gonzaga, he had appeared in a couple of episodes of The Tudors and was a ‘lost boy’ in Neverland, Sky’s expansive adaptation of Peter Pan. “That’s where the penny dropped. That’s when I realised, ‘Yeah, I really want to do this’.”
Disappointment came with an audition for Game of Thrones’ adolescent despot Joffrey Baratheon, a role which ultimately went to Cork’s Jack Gleeson. “I was 15, maybe 16 and I know I got close. Not final two, but I got really close. But Jack was Joffrey. There’s a DNA in every part that casting directors are looking to match that up with. When you see it, it’s undeniable. I’ve had parts I don’t get because no matter how hard I work on that character, there’s somebody who matches up [more than I do].”
A successful casting for Lenny Abrahamson’s What Richard Did as an impressionable young sidekick to Jack Reynor’s titular anti-hero heightened his profile and fostered an enduring relationship with the Oscar-nominated director. Abrahamson was directly instrumental in Gibson studying philosophy at Trinity College.
“I was thinking about doing philosophy, and at the same time talking about drama school and Lenny gave me the nudge. He said: ‘If you want to be an actor for the rest of your life, do something now that’s different. And if you’re going to act for the rest of your life, philosophy demands you look at everything from every angle.’ It encourages you to analyse and assess beyond a linear point of view.”
However, Gibson struggled to balance work and college. “I missed classes, tutorials. I missed my exams two years running,” and after landing The OA in 2015 and relocating to New York for five months, his studies had to be ultimately sacrificed. “I will go back, some day,” he promises with a cackle.
The OA was a complex learning experience for Gibson. Conceived by Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, the creative duo behind indie efforts The East and Sound Of My Voice, the series was a psychedelic blend of comic-book fantasy and murky mystery, and hailed as being both brilliant and baffling. One critic called it, “bonkers with a vengeance,” while another dismissed it as “gripping but annoying”.
With Marling taking centre stage as a blind woman missing for seven years who reappears with her vision restored, a mysterious carving on her back and a flat-out refusal to disclose where she had been, the show amassed a keen audience who were left bereft after the shock cancellation in 2019, leaving the storyline on a cliffhanger.
Some were so disappointed they raised funds for a ‘Save The OA’ digital billboard in New York’s Times Square, with one devotee going on hunger strike outside of Netflix’s LA offices.
Gibson was deflated by the cancellation. “I got a call from Brit and Zal when I was coming back from a music festival, which was a slight buzzkill. And they said, ‘We have some sad news’. From their side, while everything in that show had been a challenging thing to make, I found the whole journey was so bizarre and magical. And it didn’t feel that out of the ordinary the way it ended. With something like Shadow and Bone, that would surprise me if it was cancelled that way but, with The OA, it felt right in a strange way.”
Shadow and Bone is Gibson’s second punt with the Netflix machine. Joining the hugely successful show in its second season, after the debut series drew in 55 million viewers in its first 28 days, long-term success appears a more likely outcome.
Adapted from a series of popular fantasy novels by Leigh Bardugo, the glossy saga boasts a central band of heroes and cads with varying degrees of magical capabilities. Starring Chronicles Of Narnia’s Ben Barnes, British-American actor Zoë Wanamaker and Irish newcomer Danielle Galligan, audiences were gripped by an interspersing, sweeping narrative framed against the battle for Ravka, a fictional realm heavily influenced by Imperialist Russia and the reign of the Tzars.
Joining the conflict is Gibson’s Nikolai Lantsov, a prince of Ravka masquerading as a pirate — a duality the actor relished. “He’s a prince and a pauper, an alter ego in disguise and he brings this massive bravado; a pirate who has this massive ship, has got this massive swagger. Kind of like Robert Downey Jr in Iron Man, he gets on people’s nerves but he’s also hard to hate. Underneath, he’s vulnerable, not given a chance by his family. It was fascinating to be able to explore both sides of that person.”
With Lantzov a standout fan favourite of the book series, the actor is keenly aware of a pressure to please with his take on the character. Unusually for an actor in his 20s, Gibson employs a veteran’s perspective to quieten such anxieties.
“With movies and TV shows, everything is talked about like it’s life and death, and it can often feel like it is, but at the end of the day, it’s not. Other people’s jobs are — some literally.”
He tells me his brother Billy — now a father of two, who works as a cardiologist in a Dublin hospital — is a massive inspiration. ​
“Working a 24-hour shift, then taking his kids to the pool, has a few hours off, then goes straight on to another night shift. And the stakes he’s dealing with, the health and well-being of people, their actual lives — it always puts it in perspective for me.”
Quite the effective reality touchstone, I remark. But does it always work?
“You hear actors complaining all the time. We’re the number one for it. But you know what, it’s absolutely unwarranted because to get to do this as a job is the most fortunate thing in the world. It really is. And I won’t take that for granted.”
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yanderes-stuff · 3 years
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Sorry for the delay, but I think Habit would make a pretty wacky yandere, possibly a manipulative and sadistic yandere.
Just to be clear, I do not condone yandere behavior, and the stories I write should not be interpreted as romance novels.I think of my writing as dreadful nightmare stories about fictional characters becoming so lovesick to the point where it's incredibly fucked up. 
Characters: Habit, Vinny, and lastly, Michael 
TW: Drugging, mentions of self harm and injuries regarding knives
Words:1.5k
You met Michael in a New Jersey mental ward when you decided to visit a mentally ill relative as some much needed company for them and it just so happened that you decided to sit at Michael's table at lunchtime when he was sitting all alone. At first, you thought it was a bad sign, but seeing him so calm yet miserable by looks alone made your heart sink so you gave him a sympathetic look.
When Michael looked at you, surprised by your actions, when you decided to make small talk about various subjects with him, which was a pleasant experience for Michael to finally have a casual conversation with someone who wasn't a doctor or nurse, when unexpectedly you slid him a small ripped paper with your Number engraved with a black pen, which he kept in his possession afterward when he was let out,
He decided to contact you, and as time passed and he began texting you more frequently, the two of you began to get closer, much to Michael's delight, but things were getting tense when Michael struck a deal with Patrick to manipulate you into moving in with him in exchange for him avoiding harming himself on propose, which worked out well, especially when you admitted you had romantic feelings for him.
But Evan also befriended you through Michael, and you hit it off almost immediately, having sleepovers at Evan's house while you brought Michael, which made for some of the most memorable times in your life; not a weekend was spent apart from each other, but over time you began to notice Evan staring at you with delusional eyes that were unlike his occasional glance in your direction that you didn't mingle with.
He looked at you not as a friend, but as a desired object; it was becoming uncomfortable, and after some thought, reflection, and fighting over yourself, thinking it was a petty thing to do, but when the staring got you to your wits end, you decided to confess to Michael for comfort about the uneasy staring, you saw his face contort into a grimace, and now he, too, was acting unlike himself.
"If you catch him staring at you again you tell him to stop and if he doesn't...promise me you'll come and tell me." Michael stated, his tone sounding odd and his face now stern as his hands clasped on your shoulders.
"I promise," you replied, trying to explain why Michael was so serious about something as insignificant as being bothered by Evans' gaze, but chalking it up to him being overprotective.
After that, you started to notice that Micheal was hovering around you more often when Evan was present and Evans' staring ceased when he was around, but even then, you felt a burning sensation in the back of your head when you believed you were alone, but you just dismissed it as paranoia 
That's where Vinny came in after you told Michael about your paranoia; you met through a group chat after you met Evan, and what set him apart from Michael was that he listened to your uneasy ranting without being overbearing, and Michael trusted Vinny. However, your lover began to act differently around Evan, and you decided to give them space and leave them alone for a while.
And at that time, Vinny contacted you to see if you were okay, and you confirmed your well-being to him, and your text quickly snowballed into a friendship. You two were constantly texting each other for comfort, but on one cold winter day, he asked to meet up with you at your house at the same time Michael was visiting the local grocery store, so you thought why not and accepted his request.
You noticed how stiff and uneasy he seemed upon his arrival, but you just shrugged it off as him being nervous at your house for the first time. After some awkward silence and getting comfortable, you made some friendly conversation when he parted his lips to make a request "Sooooooo would you like anything to drink, maybe some water, soda, or tea?"
"Oh yeah, sure thing man, I would love some water right now. it's in the bottom of the fridge in the cabinet along with the other drinks feel free to help yourself," Vinny said in a soft, trusting tone, his legs crossed adoring a crimson and black flannel along with baby blue aged jeans adjacent to you at the time you were parched from lack of water.
You said, smiling warmly at the man. His raven hair seemed messy as he stood up and strolled into your kitchen.
You were focused on the TV as he came back and handed you a water bottle. His hands were still clammy for reasons unknown to you, as you sipped from the foggy icy-cold plastic bottle, you failed to notice that your vision was slipping over a long span of time. 
The last words you heard before slipping completely are "I'm so sorry... habit made me do it. Please forgive me!"
You awoke on the frigid floor of what appeared to be a shed, thin rays of moonlight beamed from the window. Realizing you were in danger, you thrashed as much as you could, but the bindings on your legs and arms wouldn't loosen. They appeared to be zip ties, which caused your thrashing to cut into your skin, leaving uncomfortable marks in their place.
It was then you heard a deep rough voice aimed in your direction, 
"Are you awake yet" His question was straight to the point and you instantly recognized it as Evan, but for some reason, his voice sounded way different than his normal voice?. 
"E-Evan what's going on?" You inquired, and thoughts raced through your mind about how Michael must be worried to death because he couldn't find you or Vinny, and you haven't responded to any texts from him, which he was bound to do if he couldn't find you.
"Hate to break it to you but Evans is not here anymore. I'm Habit and you're here because Michael doesn't deserve to have you and trust me that idiot does not know what's best for you like I do." He stated, sounding amused by your question. Then he paused as if determining what to say next "you see the problem with him is that he doesn't bother to protect you." He chuckled ominously
"Protect me fro-" just then he cut you off rather impolitely "from anybody you don't understand how fragile you are and I don't know what it is about you but I want to keep you for myself and away from HIM." He paused again you noticed that he was getting visibly excited
"I tried to convince Michael to let me take you for myself, but he wouldn't budge and that son of a bitch Patrick refused my request too." He said his tone seeping venom
"but don't worry you don't have to worry about him, coming for you he's too much of a coward if you didn't already know." You flinched when he said that last part and felt rage flow through your veins
"Untie me RIGHT FUCKING NOW YOU PSYCHO!" You exclaimed you wanted nothing more than to be back at home spending time with your boyfriend but he glared at you before speaking
"Looks like Michael didn't teach you manners looks like it's up to me now to teach you some respect, and I'll teach you how to cherish me as much as I do you while I'm at it" He was giving that God awful stare of dark obsession again as he emphasized on that last part
You didn't say anything. You were too shocked and didn't know how to react to his words, but you didn't even have time to react when you heard footsteps coming your way as you felt the cold of a metal knife gently slice at your flesh 
Gentle slices turned into harsh strikes up and down your body as you screamed in pain, and Habit took pleasure in each one. You just hoped to God Michael or the cops would come to your rescue so you could see the light of day again.
But you knew deep down that was unlikely.
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whatstheproblembaby · 3 years
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Fic: Points of Contact
PG-13, 2325 words, intended to be a character study but just kind of turned into a pile of fluff and banter? /shrugs
Also on AO3.
As much as she loved a quiet meal at home with her family, Shelagh appreciated their monthly invitations to dinner at Nonnatus House. The little ones were in ecstasy, surrounded by all of their favorite adults, who had no excuses not to play with them. She herself got to enjoy a meal in which she only had to cook one of the dishes, and now that Cyril and Fred were part of the guest list, she knew that Patrick looked forward to a little time with “the lads,” as he was (unfortunately) wont to call them.
She felt a smile blossom across her face as she re-entered the dining area from the kitchen, fresh cup of tea in hand. The others had adjourned to the parlour, where they were waiting for Doctor Who to start. Patrick, Cyril, and Fred had all dragged dining chairs to the far side of the room and were chatting away animatedly, though Cyril kept turning his gaze to the television every so often, clearly not wanting to miss a moment of the show. Sister Monica Joan was on a low stool, no more than a foot of space between her and the screen. Her focus, though, was on the children, who were listening somewhat attentively to her explanation of what to expect from the programme. Violet had had to step out on council business, so Sister Julienne and Phyllis had commandeered the armchairs, leaving the rest of the nuns and nurses to pile onto the sofa or sprawl out on the surrounding floor. Shelagh scanned the space, trying to see where she could squeeze in, when a gesture between Trixie and Sister Frances stopped her cold.
Trixie had perched on the arm of the sofa, one arm draped across Sister Frances’ shoulders. Even that level of public affection was a surprise to Shelagh, who hadn’t realized that Trixie’s comfort with casual, friendly touches extended past her fellow resident midwives, but Sister Frances’ response was the real stunner.
Sister Frances leaned contentedly into Trixie’s loose embrace, tucking her head as best she could onto Trixie’s shoulder and throwing her right arm over one of Trixie’s legs. She showed no fear of being caught doing something improper - indeed, Sister Julienne looked on with a smile as Sister Hilda finished relating an anecdote and the whole sofa burst into laughter.
Shelagh felt her breath catch. She only realized she had been hovering in the doorway a little too long when a concerned “Shelagh?” came from Patrick’s side of the room.
“Forgot to add milk,” she quipped, raising her cup and hoping the laugh she added at the end sounded less forced to everyone else’s ears. She turned and headed back to the kitchen, where she rummaged through the refrigerator with unseeing eyes.
A religious Sister is holy and separate, Sister Adelaide’s voice swam up from her memories. She rejoices and mourns with the community she serves, but she is not of the community. She cannot confuse the comforts of being a sister of man with her higher purpose fulfilling God’s commands with her Sisters in Christ.
Shelagh pressed her lips together wryly as she imagined Sister Adelaide’s reaction to the current display in the parlour. She knew her former instructor in the religious life had since passed on, but she hadn’t realized quite how different the lessons for the newer Sisters would be.
“My love, are you sure you’re all right?” Patrick reached down and took her teacup, setting it on the counter before securing both of her hands in his. “You’re taking an awfully long time to add milk to your already milky tea.”
“Maybe I want the extra calcium,” Shelagh said, smiling up at him. “These old bones could use some shoring up.”
“I’m not even going to respond to that statement, in order to not incriminate myself in the process,” Patrick said with an echoing smile. The love in his eyes still caught Shelagh off-guard, even after years of marriage. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m fine, Patrick,” Shelagh said tenderly. “The times have changed, that’s all. Now, we’d better get back to the parlour before Sister Monica Joan turns all of our children into mystics and Romantic poets.”
Patrick huffed out a laugh. “You know I’m going to ask you to explain what you mean by that first statement later.”
“I will. I just need a little more time to process it for myself first.”
Shelagh noticed the sensation of Patrick’s hand on the small of her back a little more acutely than usual as he guided her back to the party, marking how he removed it once they were properly in mixed company. Later, too, she became aware of how there was always a careful space left for her amongst the women, close enough to ensure she was included, but not so small that she was nudged playfully in the shoulder or brushed by someone crossing their legs to the other side.
The warm weight of her son in her arms at the end of the evening was her anchor. Teddy was dozing off by the time they left, and May and Angela weren’t too far behind. Thankfully, Sister Julienne offered to carry Angela out to their car to keep Patrick or Shelagh from having to make two trips down the stairs.
“Thank you for inviting us to dinner. We always have such a lovely time,” Shelagh said, rocking Teddy as she waited for Patrick to settle May in the back seat of the station wagon.
“The pleasure is all ours, Shelagh,” Sister Julienne said. She reached out and squeezed Shelagh’s arm once, maternally. “You know you’re part of our family. You are always welcome here.”
Shelagh just smiled, unsure of what her voice would do if she tried to respond aloud. By then, Patrick had secured May, so she focused on getting Teddy into the car next without waking him or disturbing the girls. Once all was in order, she and Patrick wished Sister Julienne a good night and waited for her to get back inside safely before they drove off.
In the car, Patrick started to say her name, but Shelagh cut him off by sliding across the bench seat and dropping her head on his shoulder.
“Get us home, Patrick. I’ll explain once we’ve got the children squared away for the night.”
The ride home was quiet, the soft sound of the radio the only real noise as Patrick navigated the streets of Poplar. Shelagh eventually shifted so her hand was resting loosely on Patrick’s above the gear shift, to allow him to manoeuvre the car better, but she stayed close by his side as they unloaded their children and got them in bed, earning a pleased yet confused look from her husband.
“You’re tactile this evening,” he observed mildly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hall to their own room.
“I’m tactile plenty of evenings,” Shelagh replied, handing Patrick his pyjamas from the wardrobe before fetching her own. “I just don’t always allow myself to act on it.”
“Because of-” Patrick broke off, freeing himself from his vest before continuing, “Because of something I’ve done? Shelagh, I’m so-”
“Not because of you, Patrick,” Shelagh said decisively. “Quite the opposite, in fact. But I’m not explaining while you’re changing - I don’t want you to smother yourself with your own clothing!”
They separated long enough to get their pyjamas on and wash up for the night, giving Shelagh one last moment to collect her thoughts.
“Come here,” Patrick said when she reentered the bedroom, holding his arms open from where he sat on his side of the bed. “If you’re still allowing yourself to be tactile, that is.”
Shelagh slid under the covers and into his arms gratefully. “I’m going to try. I don’t want to display too much affection in public, but...I think I may have been holding myself to old-fashioned standards.”
Patrick just raised an eyebrow, looking down at her with curiosity.
“Tonight, at Nonnatus, I saw Trixie and Sister Frances cuddle up to each other without a second thought, and I didn’t know what to do for a moment,” Shelagh explained. “When I was a Sister, casual physical touch was not encouraged. One was supposed to focus on one’s commitment to God to find sustenance and support. Perhaps after one’s life vows, or at a funeral for another Sister, there could be a quick embrace, but on a typical day, there should be space between one and one’s Sisters on the sofa at recreation, and one should not even think about touching or embracing a layperson unless they were experiencing labor, bereavement, or a medical emergency.”
“Really?” Patrick asked. “I’ve always thought of the Sisters as the most nurturing community presence - but now that you say that, I can’t count many times I’ve seen them actually offer a hug. An encouraging squeeze of the arm, perhaps, or a parcel of food or clothing if it serves.”
“We were expected to love as God loves, of course,” Shelagh said. “But there were ways we could do that while staying ‘holy and separate.’ Or so I was taught.”
“It would appear that whichever Sister was in charge of your lessons isn’t instructing anymore.”
“No, she’s long gone, may she rest in peace. And perhaps this new embrace of - well - embracing others is more of a Nonnatus trend than a result of any teachings from the Mother House. Still, it caught me by surprise tonight.” Shelagh tucked her head into the crook of Patrick’s neck as she finished speaking.
Patrick kissed Shelagh’s temple. “Because you were uncomfortable?”
“Because I was jealous,” Shelagh replied. She closed her eyes briefly to hide her embarrassment at saying so, but when she straightened up and looked at Patrick again, she saw nothing but understanding in his eyes, emboldening her to go on. “I spent ten years of my life keeping my distance from other people, believing it was the right way to show my devotion to God and my vows to Him. Still, I saw every moment I could have hugged a frightened mother and didn’t, or every moment I refrained from comforting one of the resident nurses at Nonnatus. I didn’t even let you hold me in public for the first year of our marriage because I was afraid everyone would think I was so starved for affection that I left the church the first time a man so much as looked at me. And now the Sisters can just casually curl up with the nurses on the couch in the parlour?”
Shelagh couldn’t restrain her frustrated tears any longer. Before the first of them were even finished trickling down her cheeks, she found herself wrapped in Patrick’s arms, her head cradled against his shoulder. He murmured soothing nonsense in her ear, assuring her he was in no rush for her to pull herself back together.
“I’m sorry, Patrick, I got you soaked,” Shelagh said once she was finally able to sit upright again.
Patrick wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I see the reasoning behind what you were taught as a Sister, but good intent doesn’t make up for years of you suppressing instincts that are now being supported by that very same institution.”
“Thankfully, I’ve also had years to work on retraining myself,” Shelagh said, a tentative smile on her face. “You’ve been quite helpful there.”
Patrick’s forehead crinkled. “I have?”
“Maybe not in so many words, but you reached for my hand when I was still afraid to name what I was feeling for you. You wrapped me in your coat when I was lost and cold on the road back to Poplar. You’ve held me time and time again as I’ve cried without me having to say a word - not five minutes ago, even! You have shown me that physical affection can be simple, natural, and meaningful, and it doesn’t diminish the quality of our love or our professionalism.”
“And here I thought I was merely capitalizing on my chances to show my devotion to my lovely wife,” Patrick said, squeezing Shelagh’s hands where they lay in his own. “I’ll always be here if and when you reach out, Shelagh.”
“I know, Patrick. I’ve always known that.” Shelagh leaned up to kiss her husband at that. “And I’m going to let myself reach out to you and to our friends more. I don’t want to give people a show, of course, but I’ve barely let myself hold your hand in public out of concern for propriety. I think we’re still within the bounds of good taste if we go a little beyond that, don’t you?”
“I should say so,” Patrick said, pressing another kiss to Shelagh’s smile. “But I could have a hidden agenda.”
“A hidden agenda? I’m not sure what you mean,” Shelagh teased, rolling onto her back and pulling Patrick on top of her.
“Let me explain.” Patrick leaned down and proceeded to illuminate his agenda quite thoroughly, adding a few items to Shelagh’s own in the process. When they had finally finished, Shelagh curled up with her head on Patrick’s chest, feeling sleep begin to claim her.
“Somehow I don’t think I’m going to add any of what we just did to my ideas of what’s appropriate in public,” she murmured, laughing softly. “But I’m happy for some things to remain just for us.”
“There’s a time and a place for everything,” Patrick agreed.
The last thing Shelagh felt before drifting off was a light kiss to her hair, an action she was all too willing to repeat the next morning as they opened up the surgery. The almost comical look of shock on Miss Higgins’ face in result gave her another reason to keep pushing her former boundaries - after all, where else was she going to find this level of amusement?
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laynemorgan · 3 years
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I'm sure you've already provided it, but I'd be curious to hear your road to becoming a staffed writer. What first got you interested in it? Does it go back to school days?
Man it goes back far. I mean, I guess in some ways it doesn't. Since you asked more about what got me interested in where it goes back to, I'll give you the lest technical and more biographicl explanatin. My first goal was just to become a writer. I've been writing since I was a really little kid. I actually recently found journals from like the elementary and middle school days just filled with them. And it was never small scale, I'd always be planning out the whole fucking setting, how all the characters were connected, full universes. I made a fake fantasy. land in my backyard because my parents live on a lot of land. I called it Teleterania. I remember very little about it besides that that was the name hahah but I did do it!!! Everything I read only made me want to write. Everything I watched made me want to write.
Sometime around late middle school and early high school, I started watching more TV. I found soap operas and was OBSESSSED with their flare for drama. I found BTVS, Charmed, Smallville, Veronica Mars, OTH, etc. And all of those shows really got me actually looking at TV in a way I had never before. I got obsessed with their worlds and into their fandoms. I became the liek TV guy in my high school. There was even a group of girls I never got to really hang out with that would always call me over to their table to ask about what I knew about OTH stuff hahaha and 17 year old me thought that was awesome. Before my sister passed away, she and I took a road trip down to North Carolina to tour the One Tree Hill set. OTH was like the one thing that she and I agreed on. And it was so awesome. For me it was a first look at what the industry actually looked like, to see the sets and what went into it and all of that.
But I don't think my eyes really opened to actually WORKING in tv until college. I went to school for English Lit and Creative Writing in New Hampshire. My school had a great writing program and I was right at home there. i still credit my first writing professor who was only a grad student for really teaching me what I know about writing and editing and reading my own work for error and she passed me on to her favorite professor which was a hugely flattering moment for me. AND THEN -- I fell in love with PLL. And for me, that was really where shit started. I didn't realize it at the time and it wasn't even the show that did it it was what the show showed me. Through my tumblr at the time which had very little to do with fandom, I actually wound up running into Patrick Adams and Troian Bellisario. We all were always sharing each other's posts and at the time I was working for a journalist covering random TV out of a shitty free magazine in Boston doing work for peanuts. But I was going out to LA to meet up with a friend and we all decided to meet for lunch and they let me interview them for my magazine and stayed really rad people. They also helped boost my PLL photo recaps which I was doing at the time and those got the attention of the Director, Normal Buckley who asked me out to coffee and talked to me about my goals and what I was doing. He was the person who first really helped me understand that there's an approachability to the TV world that to me had always been this like magical hollywood bubble I didn't understand.
I went home THRILLED about LA, dropped out of college and set out to go to film school. From there, I hated film school because it was too technical adjacent, dropped out again, spent all the money I had on that move twice, and went home to boston broke and lost. I spent two years after that maybe more saving money, working in fandom, and waitressing while I went back to college online. That era wasn't super writing focused but it's where I found myself. I realized I was queer, I came out, I got into tumblr rpg, I met my fandom friends, I found tumblr fandom in a way I hadn't before. And then a couple years later I found tl100.
From there, the rest is kind of wonky. I had a big fan blog for the show and talked a lot about it on my twitter which lead me to many interactions with the writers who then invited me to dinner at comic con one year. I had a long talk with Shumway abut my goals and what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I wanted to be in TV somehow. I knew I wanted to be in writing somehow but I couldn't figure out how those two things aligned. I was doing a lot of journalism and critic stuff because that felt like the clsoest way to be both a fan and workin in the world I loved but it was really Kim and Shawna that opened my eyes to the ability to just .... be a TV writer. Film school had made me terrified of the wrtiing side but I think it was because film school was so much more about writing for film which I learned isn't my thing. But TV is a writers' medium, unlike film which is more fo a directors medium and suddenly I was like -- MIND BLOWN. It was everything I wanted in a career and married all of the things I loved. It was something that had previously felt like unattainable but they made it seem human and approachable.
They helped me get my first WPA job, I saved up 3 grand working and with the help of some friends and moved to LA to start that. And suddenly I was in a whirlwind of catching up on everything I felt like I had missed. I was reading scripts, learning what the process looked like, doing everything I coudl to figure out what being a TV writer looked like. After that job, I got another WPA job at Millar Gough on Into the Badlands and later Shannara.
THEN I got hired on Daybreak which I can fully credit with being a huge stepping stone for me and changing my life in a lot of ways. Aron was the best showrunner. He was educational and he taught us shit, he let us in the room, he let us write stuff, he let us pitch and try and fall on our faces and never judged us for it. My second season there he moved me up to writers assitant and patiently walked me through all the stuff I didn't know yet because he had faith in me and my voice and my ideas. He let me writ e afreelance episode that year and pitch it in the room and do all the things that real w riters get to do.
So after Daybreak season 2 got cancelled I was pretty ready to spend my next year or two just writing, finding an agent and moving forawrd. And then I got an email to go and work for Moira Walley Beckett. She was looking for an assistant with serious room experience to help develop something in a small room and stay on with her later. I took the job becuase she's MOIRA and I was stoked to learn from her and work for a woman for once. I ernded up very fortunate becuase a month later we were all surprised by the covid mess and I was fully employed that whole year while many people weren't which was a huge help. Moira was a STELLAR boss. I had thought I was ready and what she taught me was that ther's always so much more to learn. She walked me through the process of applying notes and taking notes and changing draft after draft of your story. SHe walked me through breaking a whole season of television. We had a great partnership for the year and I'm so grateful. And then that project didn't end up seeing hte light of day and we our separate ways as well.
Cut to a few months ago, I was still at home in Boston, post-covid, having been sick for most of january. My friend Rachel dared me to write a spec in a weekend for the Warner Bros fellowship deadline. So I did. It was a Legacies Spec. Given that we didn't have access to the WGA library because of the pandemic, Legacies was an easy and obvious choice. I had already seen it inside and out and didn't need as much access to learning a show from scratch. So I wrote what I loved, wrote a season 2 legacies spec that embraced my favorite things about legacies: the high school soap of one tree hill, Lizzie doing wild dialogue, buffy-esque monsters, and themes of grief and humanity.
AND THE REST you know.
Here we are. I'm still lost as fuck. I'm still running full speed through a world I don't always feel like I"m ready for. I'm still a perfectionist and an obsessive overworker. I still take notes I don't need to take and do work at 10pm and come in early and stare at the story boards. There's a whole journey in all of this about representation and coming to find myself and queer media and wanting to make more of it but that's one I don't feel like I can fully get into until I'm decades out of it and the world is truly made better. But I'm here. And it feels like the end of a journey and liek I'm standing at the edge of a brand new clif because I've only just started.
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eternal-echoes · 3 years
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I'm sorry to be a bother, but if somebody was interested in possibly converting to Catholicism, but had no access to a Catholic church, what book would you suggest to them? And would it be different if I admit I'm a lesbian?
Hello Anon,
Thank you for reaching out to me. I feel honored. Anons especially those who are seeking to convert are never a bother to me!
A book I would recommend if you're interested in Catholicism would be This is the Faith by Canon Francis Ripley. I believe it's a good summary of what the Catholic Faith teaches. I would also get Answer Me This! by Patrick Madrid. It's one of the first Christian apologetic works I've read and while it's in a question and answer format tackling the common objections against the Catholic Faith, it's does a great job in laying down the outline and foundation of the Catholic Faith. The book by Patrick Madrid is shorter than the first one but if you want to start with something much smaller, I recommend videos by Bishop Robert Barron. I learned a lot from them. Though I should say Bishop Robert Barron has been kinda controversial among some Catholic circles so I would only stick to his older videos. Fr. Mike Schmitz from Ascension Presents in YouTube is also good as well but I've only watched a few from him so I can't say much.
I haven’t read this yet but I hear Eve Tushnet’s Gay and Catholic: Accepting My Sexuality, Finding Community, Living My Faith  is really good. There is also couragerc.net
The Catholic Church welcomes everyone to visit the Mass. Even if they're only curious about the Faith or still struggling to accept some of the Church's teachings. What we only strictly forbid is receiving the Eucharist when people aren't worthy, both Catholic and non-Catholic alike. And to be worthy is to have been baptized and received in the Catholic Faith, have gone to Confession & therefore in a state of grace, and accepts all the Catholic Church teaching.
And yes it's possible for a lesbian to convert to the Catholic Faith. So long as you don't act on your sexual desire it's still possible for you to receive the Eucharist eventually. Once you've gone through the RCIA, baptized and confirmed into the Catholic Faith, and have accepted all the Church's teachings.
There is a lot of learn about the Catholic Faith that even cradle Catholics like myself are still discovering so please be patient with yourself and it's okay to struggle to accept some of her teachings as long as you're constantly seeking for an explanation. Falling in love doesn't take a day.
If you have anymore questions, please free to ask. My posts are usually on queue so if I don't reply right away it's probably because I'm still deliberating how to answer properly.
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kayla47 · 3 years
Text
Faith and Certainty
Patrick waits and worries. Some words of wisdom show him where he needs to be. Episode addition to S6x08, set between Patrick's telephone conversation with Sister Julienne and his arrival at home.
Sister Winifred stepped through the doors of Kenilworth Row maternity home to be greeted by the peaceful silence of late afternoon. The bustle of arriving visitors had passed leaving just the gentle murmur of voices behind the closed doors of the ward and the occasional piercing cry of a newborn. Surgery having ended, the reception area was in semi darkness being lit by a single desk lamp and the last low rays of pale winter sunshine slipping through the window blinds. Hanging her coat on the rack in the corner she proceeded up the steps at the far end of the reception area. The open doors on either side of the corridor revealed empty rooms and the promise of a peaceful night shift ahead of her.
Light spilled from the doorway of the Doctor's office. She approached with the silent footsteps common to all the religious sisters, her arrival going unacknowledged by the man sitting behind the desk. His elbows were on the desk, his head resting in hands whose fingers curled through his tousled dark hair. Sister Winifred couldn't tell if he had noticed her in the doorway so spoke softly to avoid startling him.
"Doctor?"
His head shot up and he frowned as if trying to recall where he was or what he should be doing.
"Sister? Can I help you?"
"I was just wondering if there was any news from Sister Julienne? How are things progressing with Mrs Turner?" She was aware that the Sister had been called to attend their most precious mother-to-be and was anxious for reassurance that all was as it should be.
Patrick gave a half smile that was quickly replaced by a frown.
"Sister Julienne said that everything was 'ticking over very nicely' but she wouldn't let me speak to Shelagh and that was some time ago." He glanced at his watch with a sigh.
After a slight hesitation Sister Winifred walked fully into the room closing the door behind her and took a seat at the desk opposite the doctor. The man was clearly worried about his wife and she wanted to offer him some comfort but wondered if she was being presumptuous, they had been colleagues for nearly four years but although she had developed a close friendship with Shelagh in that time the same couldn't be said for her friend's husband. Nevertheless she felt she had to try. Wringing her hands together she took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
"Everything is fine, I'm certain of it. If it wasn't Sister Julienne would have let you know."
Patrick opened his mouth to speak but Sister Winifred interrupted him.
"Doctor, in our work we see so many problems and even the occasional disaster but we also see far, far more births that are trouble free with a happy, healthy outcome for both mother and baby. I know you had a scare early on but Shelagh has been perfectly well in all her checks since then and baby has been developing normally, there's no reason to anticipate any difficulties - a textbook mother and baby in fact." She smiled warmly at him.
Patrick sighed and a little of the tension seemed to leave his body. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.
"I know that but it's hard not to think of everything that could go wrong, these things so often come with no warning."
"They do, but not this time", Sister Winifred stated with conviction.
Patrick gave her a quizzical look.
"You can't know that."
"There are many things in this life that I can't know but that I believe with all my heart," she answered with a beaming smile.
"I wish I had your faith, Sister. If anything were to happen to this baby I don't know how Shelagh would go on and I don't see how I could survive if I lost her." He leant back in his chair, blinking away the tears that threatened and swallowing hard as he attempted to control his emotions.
"Faith doesn't always come with certainty, Doctor, you should know that more than most."
The questioning tilt of his head encouraged her to continue.
"Last year I suffered a period of doubt. Sister Julienne had sent me to help at the school when one of the teachers left suddenly. It reminded me how much I loved teaching and left me questioning whether I was really called to nursing. Shelagh somehow sensed that I was struggling and one afternoon when we were alone I found myself pouring my heart out to her. She was really quite wonderful," the nun smiled wistfully at the memory, "I could tell that she didn't like to talk about it but she told me how confused and alone she felt before she left the Order. She explained how her call to the religious life had been so strong that when she felt an equally powerful call to leave she was left doubting her ability to recognise what God wanted from her. Shelagh's faith is as strong now as when she first came to Poplar but she told me that certainty only came when she opened her heart to the love growing within her. She said that's when she came to realise that God wanted another path for her." She paused briefly before continuing. "I felt then, and I still do, that she was wrong."
Patrick shot upright turning an angry glare on the Sister. She raised a hand and cut him off before he could speak.
"Not wrong to leave the Order but wrong in thinking that she was taking a different path. It seems to me that this was just another turn in the same path, the path that had led her to the Order, to Nonnatus House and, ultimately, to you. You and Timothy needed her, God knew that and the Order was the door that He opened to bring her to you."
The anger left Patrick and for the first time in hours his face relaxed into a warm smile.
"We did need her. We still do."
"Yes, and she needs you too, that's why I'm so certain that all will be well with Shelagh and the baby. You and Shelagh have what everyone in this world is searching for Doctor, the certainty that you are just where you are meant to be, in the place that is the perfect fit, where you are loved for everything that you were and are and can be. God knows how much you all need each other and He hasn't finished with you yet. You all have so much love still to give, the way you opened your hearts and home to Angela is proof of that. This baby is God's thank you gift to your family for accepting the path He's sent you down."
Still smiling, Patrick nodded and got to his feet. As he walked around the desk Sister Winifred rose to meet him.
"You're a wise woman, Sister Winifred, and I think this conversation may be one of the reasons God brought you to Poplar. Thank you." He took her hands in his, squeezing them gently in gratitude. Sister Winifred blushed red under his warm gaze.
"If that's true then it's God you need to thank." Composing herself she took a step backwards as he released her hands. "Now, surgery's over, why aren't you home with your wife?"
"Because she didn't want me to be at the delivery. She wanted us to be just like any other couple." Patrick sighed, resigned to following his beloved wife's wishes but still not fully understanding them.
Sister Winifred shook her head.
"I've seen many marriages in the course of my work, Doctor Turner. Some are just a companionship, some are filled with love and some have no love at all. I've never seen a couple more bound by love, more meant for each other than you and Shelagh. You're not like any other couple and you both know it. Go home Doctor, be there when she remembers how much she needs you to hold her. Go home and be there with her to welcome the gift that God is giving you." She took his coat from the hook on the door and held it out to him.
Patrick didn't need telling twice. With a nod and a grin he grabbed the coat from her and dashed out. His parting call of "Thank you, Sister" echoed down the corridor as the surgery door slammed behind him.
Sister Winifred allowed herself a moment to offer a brief prayer of thanks to the Almighty for helping her to find the words to comfort the Doctor before hurrying off to start her shift. She couldn't help feeling that perhaps she had already done her best work of the night.
Notes:
This is my first ever story in the CTM fandom (and the first of any variety that I've written for many years). I adore CTM in general and Turnadette in particular. This 'fill the gap' story started going round in my head and in the end I couldn't resist the urge to write it down.
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nametags · 4 years
Text
But her emails...
I aim to be a woman of integrity. I’ve sat on the content I’m about to share for almost 6 years in part because it originally was a private conversation between me and a friend. A friend who happens to be a lead singer of a band, but a friend none the less. However the way people have been speaking about him and what’s been going on in the world lately, I couldn’t let this stay hidden anymore.
I’m tired of people claiming that because Patrick no longer uses social media (and hasn’t for damn near five years at this point) that somehow he doesn’t “care” or isn’t doing anything right now to help the Black Lives Matter movement. I’m also incredibly tired of people ignoring/belittling the fact that Pete Wentz is a biracial/black man in America. You really do not want the social media person in charge of Patrick’s account tweeting things out. It would be hollow and fake.
Below is both a transcript of the conversation I had with Patrick on 12/06/2014, a follow up message he sent to me 08/25/2015, and the accompanying screenshots. Unfortunately I do not have the tweet(s) that prompted me to contact him in the first place nor can I find screenshots of them to provide that context. An image of me and my younger brother Jacob when we met the band at Boys of Zummer will also be attached to demonstrate one of the people I was concerned about in my original email. 
The only redactions made were my personal email address and the name of a friend I referenced. Patrick deleted his email account at some point between late 2016 and early 2017. It’s only left in these screenshots as proof for those who knew the address before to see these were legitimate messages. I hope the content reveals not only where his heart lies not only then but where it is now. 
Allison White: So I caught the insanity way late, but it's a tricky spot to be in with what's going on. For most of my life, I didn't even identify with half of my race. I was raised with my mom's side of the family and it just didn't click for me. It really hasn't been until teen years and onward that I've opened my eyes to it all. And with that, I began to grow wary of authority in a way. Like I still believe that people go into law enforcement for the right reasons. The few times I have dealt with police officers personally I haven't been concerned, but I have noticed in the past few years that when I spot a police car on the road or an officer just out in public somewhere is if I look "white enough" or do I actually look like an adult who belongs in whatever space I am in. I know Trayvon Martin was murdered by a vigilante and not an actual officer of the law, but that was when I first started to fear for my little brothers. I knew both of them were the sort of young men that could get targeted and most likely justice would not be found for them. And then there comes this summer. With both the Mike Brown and Eric Garner cases coming back with no indictment, it makes it feel as if it's just open season for black people to be hunted by cops. Which is hurtful for the cops who are actually in it to protect and serve, and every citizen who now has to wonder if they are next. I hope that your cousin is doing alright. I hope that people aren't making his job harder right now. Just I know for me right now with all that's going on I am definitely on the side of the protesters.
Patrick Stump: Brief for now; I'm sorry in all that you didn't notice that I'm squarely on the side of the protestors too. That's a failure of my wording
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PS: The problem is that I so poorly expressed myself, people thought I was balancing the empathy to be spread across the black community and cops. That's a mistake on my part. I'm angry.
I'm angry that Mike Brown's case didn't yield enough evidence to indict. But that case was a very complicated one...Brown had just (allegedly) committed a violent crime and information was murky. As sure as I was that Wilson straight up murdered the Brown, I understood the limitations of the american Justice system given how little evidence there was. That's the unfortunate reality of justice is that it needs to be just. It needs to be 100%. We can't go in with "I know in my heart." And so that case pissed me off, but I understood it. 
With Eric Garner however, this just feels so flagrant. By no accounts was he violent, wasn't he doing anything that could even be misconstrued as life-threatening enough to even imagine defending the usage of deadly force. He was cooperating and they choked him to death on camera. That's fucked up. I'm pissed. I tried to be polite and sit back and not say anything, but I'm pissed.
However, my reason for discussing the side of the police as well is that human beings are complicated. When we boil people down to simplistic stereotypes, when we create a narrative of "Us VS them," we lose sight of the humanity of it all. You can't reason with a "Them." You can only reason with a person and it works better when you remember they're people.
I don't believe in enemies. I'm not religious but I love the way Jesus preached "Love thy enemy." That's hugely influential to me. Hugely important. That's the empathy I mean.
The other night I was holding my son and I thought to myself about a black girl I used to date. And how, we could have had a kid together. Maybe a little boy. And how, that boy could (by no action of his own) be killed just for the color of his skin. Like, I've heard and read words like that before, but to actually connect with it (on as small a scale as that) was horrifying. Gutting. For a little moment I thought, all this joy and all this beauty and somewhere, someone's having a black baby boy, loving him and feeling all the same things I feel for my son. But I wondered if in between their tired diaper changes and their burpings, if they were saying a silent prayer "I hope you don't get killed by a cop." If they say it constantly because they know how possible it is. Or even if he lives to be a 100, what black man won't have an unjust run in with the law? Not to make it exclusively a male issue but seriously, how many black men are in prison right now in America? That's a disgusting thing. The young parent of a young black boy probably considers that and that's maybe the most depressing thing I've ever tried to understood. That's a horrifying thing. There really still is a racial divide in this country, and to not be black is to not say those little prayers. We live in a supposedly free country. What about the pursuit of happiness? Who's defending the right of that little black baby boy born somewhere in America to just be an adorable little baby without any pretense? And when that baby grows up, who's defending his right to walk down a residential sidewalk and not expect to get pulled over and frisked? Maybe worse? 
So I'm angry. Just plain angry. But I didn't want to offend anyone so I expressed my anger in the lightest way I could think of. 
I'm not sorry for having an opinion, I'm sorry I explained it so poorly that you didn't know what it was.
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AW: All of this is hard, and there is so much anger. You shouldn't ever be sorry for your opinions, and I am pretty sure you yourself have told people only be sorry for how you express your opinions. I wasn't upset with you or what you said, I just felt compelled to share that for me there's a knee jerk reaction to the image/idea of police and why.  This whole situation has been tough and it's been inspiring watching people across this country let their anger show and demonstrate in the streets against it. It makes me wish I was brave enough to take part in it out in the streets and not just online. 
I hope this collective anger and protest leads to real change. That in 2014 we are able to do the things they were aiming for in 1964. I mean recently the full letter the FBI sent to MLK to urge him into suicide was released and it just highlights the divide between how much has and has not changed. There's a lot of value in what religion is supposed to teach. Love thy enemy, love thy neighbor. True love and care for those around you is a great thing and certainly something I'd hope people identified with. 
The past nearly seven years there has been this push for hope and change. Maybe the country is finally reaching a point to make it happen?
PS: I have a funny feeling this is civil rights part 2. I'm proud of the protests. I'm so grateful our generation is angry about something it should be angry about for a change.
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AW: An argument can be made that our generation (or just post baby boomer generations in general) have been taught and fed nonsense to keep us compliant, but that veers into a territory that I am not completely sure or comfortable with. Overall I do think that this is heading a direction that the powers that be are not ready for in the slightest.
PS: Where did I go wrong? What do people think I said? They're so mad at me, and none of the people have said anything I didn't mean. I'm not getting angry right-wing stuff, people are just calling me a racist. What did I say that was racist? What do I think that's racist?
AW: There's a strong immediate reaction right now of if you sound slightly in favor of the officers that did wrong that you are racist. The swift reaction and need to dogpile on is kind of crazy. I think people took the initial comment to mean "not all cops!!!!" In the same vein as "not all men!!!" and that's where the rage is coming from. 
AW: Just to be clear, those who matter know you're not racist. You have shown both in your words and actions where your beliefs lie. I don't know how to calm the masses right now because at least for the time being its not going to get through :(
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AW: You could try a blog entry on tumblr?
PS: Nah, I think I've done enough damage for one lifetime. I think I'll keep it to myself but I appreciate your talking it through with me. 
AW: No problem. I am always willing to be a sounding board for that stuff if you need it.
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PS: I re-read my stuff; "I support our police," is the worst things said. I meant "I support the idea of police and the need for a police force we can trust on a national level," not "I support the police in NYC who are killing people and attacking protestors." That sucks.
AW: If you wanna try to clarify now you can. At least in your Google alert it only had one mention of he mess and it was a tumblr user supporting/defending you. 
PS: There's no fixing it. The Internet is unforgiving I think and the reality is, I said that. I didn't mean it in the way that it so obviously sounds, but I said that. So I deserve everything I get.
AW: It will most likely go easier if you let it ride out instead of trying to go out and fight it. That just gives the "he doth protest too much" air about it. Hopefully the energy behind letting you know you said something like that will dissipate sooner rather than later. And that it won't get big enough for someone to write a story about it. 
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PS: Yeah. It'll sound like back-pedaling and glad-handing. Anyway, thanks for talking it through! 
AW: You're very welcome! Thank you for hearing out my side of it this morning.
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PS:  I never would've ignored your side.
AW: Which is very much appreciated
AW: I say that because in the past two weeks I have lost a handful of friends because of all of what's going on and them being unable to understand how and why their words hurt me.
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PS: Well that's awful and unfair
AW: It was but they were all from the "when I look at you I don't see black, I just see Ally" camp and then would go on to say things about stereotypes and "thugs"
PS: Yeah. Thug. "Oh that's so ghetto." Bullshit.
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AW: When someone says "thug" it's always clear they wanna say the n word
PS: Or even if they're the kind of "Well meaning," person who knows enough not to say that word, they mean the same thing
PS: "Not like you. You're good"
PS: White America just needs to know what it doesn't know
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PS: Or rather, understand that there are things they (we) will never understand. Not from a first person perspective.
AW: It always makes me want to scream. The erasure of identity so then the people known to them stay safe. It reminds me of something I witnessed the other day. My friend [REDACTED] from junior high is now an established lawyer. Needless to say he has been keeping up very much with the recent events. He made a post about it and one of his friends commented with "I wish you would go back to being my friend [REDACTED] and not my black friend [REDACTED]." Mind you there's no denying [REDACTED] is a black man. He can't pass in the slightest so the comment shocked and saddened me. Thankfully [REDACTED] handled it with poise and grace. 
PS: If you have to say you have a "black friend," then you probably don't. That's fucked. I guess I just genuinely didn't imagine how pervasive this stuff really is. Like, Pete and Joe and I have been talking a lot today. I was under the misapprehension that we grew up in a decently inclusive area. Just come to find out, nobody used those words around me. The whole time they were heckling kids like Joe and Pete. I thought racism was this thing that doesn't happen here. It's scary how much it's come out post Obama's election. Elected officials sending out mass e-mails of pictures of watermelons. I just didn't get it. Ignorance is bliss.
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AW: It knows how to hide in plain sight, which is a lot of the problem. People are taught "don't be racist!!!!" Without being told exactly what racism is. People (myself included at times) aren't aware of words/phrases/ideas have nefarious ties until too late. 
PS: I think we get too caught up on words and not enough on what they imply. "Thug," means a prepackaged idea of a black male. It instantly limits his perceived intelligence, his perceived trustworthiness, his perceived value to society, and his perceived prospects in life. That's so fucked. We expect black men to go to prison. Not be doctors and lawyers. When a black man is a doctor or lawyer, we treat him like such a cool novelty. When a black woman asserts herself, she's so "Sassy." "You go girl." 
These little words and phrases feel harmless. They never were
AW: Those are the positives. Usually assertive black women are angry, mean. It's so fucked all around. 
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AW: I really owe Pete for helping me be informed on Ferguson. He tweeted the hashtag the night the protests started in August and it helped me dive in. I am sure tumblr would have got me to it eventually, but seeing it from day one was a definite help. 
PS: You know part of my problem? I'm just not brave enough to say what I think. I'm just scared of offending people. Pete's not. He doesn't care. That's powerful
AW: It takes a lot to just put it out there. I am not sure if I had the amount of eyes on me that you do that I would be so "fuck you I will do/say what I want" as I am. Hell I become such a shadow of myself when at work with how quiet and polite I am. I mean I am still pierced and tatted with short hair so visually I say a lot, but then I watch my speech to make us for it. 
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(Follow up on 8/25/2015)
Patrick Stump: That is amazing and I'm very flattered. By the way; Been thinking about our conversation from a year ago a lot. The takeaway is this: Saying "All lives matter," and "Not all cops," while literally true are contextually horrendous. Really awful. In retrospect I feel pretty awful about saying both. Specifically because "All lives matter," can carry a lot of implications. Who's lives? I meant by it that Latinos and Muslims are also unreasonably targeted/mistreated/murdered by cops. But is it as systematic or blatant as it is with darker skinned Americans? Not remotely. Furthermore, as a white man, I just need to remember how fucking easy I have it. It's easy for me to preach peace and unflinching patience when I've NEVER been a victim of the War On Drugs or the aftermath of straight up slavery. So there's a lot to think about in terms of what I, a white guy, have to say and do about the situation. But not a lot I have to say about the way it feels to be oppressed to the point of feeling like less than a citizen of this country. I shouldn't have spoken about it because I don't/can't know. Well-meaning white folks get to talk about policy changes and do everything we can to help, otherwise we should get the fuck out of the way. I'm sorry, really REALLY sorry to the world that I ever said either of those things. It's more than "Fuck the police." It's "Fuck this whole system." And as aware as I'd been, I hadn't realized how complacent in it I was. Anyway, disgusted I said what I said. Sorry to the whole world for being part of the problem
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unfolded73 · 4 years
Text
Kitchen Gossip (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff
Yesterday Jen Gunter published a piece in the New York Times celebrating the WAP, and so I guess somehow Jen Gunter and Cardi B led indirectly to this, the little fic that pushed me over 1,000,000 words on ao3. 
Rated Teen, 1452 words. David stumbles into some girl talk with Marcy and her sisters. (ao3)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
David picks up the pinot noir bottle and upends it over his glass and… nothing.
He can probably do without another glass of wine. If he stops drinking now, he’ll be stone cold sober by bedtime and will thus be best-positioned to seduce his husband, the fact that they are sleeping in Patrick’s childhood bedroom down the hall from Patrick’s parents during this visit notwithstanding.
A cheer erupts from the living room.
On the other hand, Patrick is going to be watching hockey with his relatives until late, and David’s got just enough of a buzz going that another glass of wine will make the next couple of hours much less boring.
He sets the empty bottle down and goes into the kitchen in search of another.
Marcy has wine bottles lined up on the counter, and David sets his glass down, grabbing one and peeling the foil away.
“Mom told me once that I wouldn’t be that interested in sex after menopause, but I’m not finding that to be the case,” a woman behind David says surprisingly loudly, given the topic.
He doesn’t want to whip around and stare at the person speaking, so he focuses on inserting the corkscrew and twisting it. He didn’t look over at the women clustered in the kitchen when he came in, but he’s pretty sure that’s Patrick’s Aunt Laura talking.
“Well, Mom was probably just as happy to have an excuse not to have sex. She never talked like it was something she enjoyed.” That’s Marcy talking now. About Patrick’s dearly departed grandmother’s sex life. Not a topic David expected to hear anyone talking about during this visit to his in-laws’ house. Or, you know, ever.
The women are giggling to themselves as David deftly extracts the cork from the wine bottle. “God rest her soul, but she may have thought the female orgasm was a myth.” He supposes, from context, that this is the younger of Marcy’s sisters talking. Jennifer. The short one who makes the Nanaimo bars that he’d be willing to commit unspeakable crimes for.
“Or she just didn’t want to let us in on the secret in case we ran out and lost our virginities in high school,” Marcy says, and the women laugh.
“It was too late for me by the time she started lecturing me about it,” Jennifer says as David fills his glass.
“David!” calls Laura, the oldest sister. Wincing, he turns around, expecting her to tease him for inadvertently bumbling into this private sisterly conversation. “Bring that wine over here; I need a refill.”
He does as instructed, shooting Marcy a look that he hopes is apologetic for intruding on her bonding time with her sisters. She smiles and waves her hand to dismiss his apology, and when he finishes topping off Laura’s glass, Marcy holds hers out as well. He ends up emptying the bottle, between himself and the three sisters who are gossiping in the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Laura says to Jennifer, “You could fill a book with the stuff that Mom didn’t teach us about sex.” Continuing as if he’s not still standing there. So David starts to turn and go.
“Did your parents teach you about sex, David?” Jennifer, the youngest, asks him. Her lips are stained red with the wine, and he’s guessing she’s had at least as many glasses as he has. Maybe more.
He tilts his head to the side and tries to answer honestly. “Mm. They weren’t shy about talking about sex around me. There wasn’t any shame about it. But ‘teach’ is probably the wrong word. They never sat me down and had a ‘talk’.” He makes air quotes with his one free hand.
Marcy and her sisters are hanging on his every word, nodding in sympathy, and it’s disconcerting but also kind of nice.
“When I was eleven, my mother had her hairdresser Evan talk to me?” He shudders a little. “I guess because he was gay and she I assumed I was too.” He waves his hand to try to shoo that memory away. “But it was kind of horrifying. In retrospect, not appropriate topics for an eleven year old.” He sips his wine.
“Did Mom tell you that oral sex was unsanitary?” Jennifer asks her older sisters.
Marcy raises her eyebrows. “I don’t think she ever mentioned to me that it existed.”
“I’m not sure which is worse,” Jennifer says, and then shakes her head. “No, mine is worse. It kind of gave me a complex about it. I had to get over the idea that it was dirty. The idea that no man would want to put his mouth… you know. Down there.”
David blinks, and wonders if he should try to slink away before these women (who include his mother-in-law) remember that he’s standing there listening to them talking about mouths and vaginas. But also, he has something to contribute to this conversation, and the alcohol has vanished the filter between his brain and his mouth.
“To be fair to your mother, the culture instills in women a lot of that shame. There are all these products telling women they don’t smell good or taste good or that they’re too wet or not wet enough…” Oh god. Did all of that just come out of his mouth? In front of Marcy?
But all of them are nodding at his sage words. “David, you’re so right,” Laura says. “I had to talk to my daughter about that. She’d gotten this idea that her labia of all things should look a certain way. From porn, I guess.”
“As if we don’t have enough pressure from the media about our visible body parts,” Marcy says, taking a big drink from her wine glass.
“I mean, you aren’t going to be putting your mouth down there on any women anyway, are you, David?” Laura slurs, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Well, not now,” he says, tipsy enough not to be offended by the assumptions of his… aunt-in-law? Is that a thing? “But I’m pansexual, so I enjoyed doing that in my day.”
Laura, meanwhile, is drunk enough to be unphased and unashamed. “Oh, I thought you were gay.”
“Well, it just goes to show you can’t make assumptions about sexual orientation based on how someone acts,” he explains easily. “My hockey-loving, beer-drinking husband in there only enjoys sex with men, while for me, gender doesn’t figure in to who I’m attracted to.”
Jennifer takes another sip of her wine. “I might have been bisexual…” She looks at David. “Or pansexual. If it had occurred to me to explore any of that before I married Eric.”
David smiles at her. “Your sexual identity doesn’t have to align with who you’re sleeping with. You can be bi or pan and still be in a monogamous relationship with a man.” He gestures up and down at himself, the dregs of his wine sloshing dangerously. “Case in point.”
She nods but looks uncertain. He wants to hug her and take her by the hand and guide her into the wonderful world of queer identities, because it’s never too late. Reining himself in from any inappropriate demonstrations of affection, David drinks and then looks down at his wine glass, surprised that it’s already empty.
“We need more wine!” Laura says, and she’s going over this time to open a bottle.
“So what did Mom tell you?” Jennifer asks Marcy.
Marcy sighs. “That I would regret it if I didn’t save myself for marriage. And that part of being married was, you know. It was the whole wifely duty thing.” She rolls her eyes. “Fortunately, I knew better than to listen to any of that.”
A part of David is intensely curious to know more, but he has just enough sense not to ask Marcy to elaborate. He holds his glass out to let Aunt Laura fill it.
“So your parents assumed you were gay and then you had to… what? Come out to them that you also liked women?” Laura asks.
David leans back against the counter and nods. “That is almost exactly what happened, yes.”
The women nod at him, the overly aggressive agreement of drunk people. “That must have been difficult in its own way,” Marcy says.
“Well, we all have our crosses to bear,” David says.
~*~
“How did you get so drunk, is the question,” Patrick says, putting a glass of water and a couple of headache pills on the bedside table next to David.
“It was your mother’s fault,” David groans. “She and your aunts were talking about your grandmother’s sex life, and things kind of went downhill from there.”
Patrick puts his hands on his hips. “Ew, David.”
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readyouagain · 5 years
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The Hating Game: Epilogue
It’s a red dress kind of day. It’s Friday afternoon. I’m sitting in my office at Bexley & Gamin and I can see my reflection in my floor-to-ceiling window. Outwardly I look remarkably corporate, but on the inside I’m forever an immature little weirdo. I cross my legs and begin to play the Mirror Game with myself. The Staring Game. Even a whispered How You Doing Game. It’s just not the same without my opponent. It’s been a shitty day. I spent the afternoon fighting a valiant battle against Mr. Bexley over electronic distribution royalties, and then I found out that there’s a bug in our latest e-library app.   I’m so tired I can feel my own skeleton. I need to be lying on my perfect couch but it’s not going to happen tonight. It’s so quiet I can hear the fluorescent tubes buzzing. The elevator bings. Whoever’s just arrived on the tenth floor needs to be kept out of my office so I can get the hell out of here. Scott, our executive officer, is a pretty good gatekeeper. I can hear muffled conversation, and then there’s a rap on the door. There’s only one person in the world who can put so much short, sharp love into a single knock. “Come in,” I say. The door swings open and there he is.
Joshua Templeman is dressed in black. Everything, from his underwear to his cufflinks to his tie, is ink-black midnight. He enjoys the drama of it on a Friday, sliding into people’s office doorways like Dracula just as they’re loosening their ties and thinking about their weekends. All he needs is some devil horns and a pitchfork. I feel vaguely bad for whoever he’s been terrorizing today. He leans against the doorjamb and we’re playing the Staring Game for a minute until his dark navy eyes spark. “Shortcake,” he breathes like he can’t believe I’m real. “I missed you so bad.” My. Heart. Bursts. I stand up and go to him. He picks me up off the ground, kissing my jaw, my cheekbones, his fingers stroking my nape. He turns me in a circle and I cross my ankles prettily. The tiredness falls out through my feet and dissolves. He’s here, and I’m lit up. It’s the kind of light that never fades. People in the opposite building might be able to see us. Motorists at the traffic lights below can probably make out the silhouette of a ridiculously large man twirling around a ridiculously small woman. During one slow revolution I catch sight of Helen and Mr. Bexley, standing near Scott’s desk. They’re all looking at us like we’re the most gorgeously silly couple in the world. It’s accurate. We are. Helen glances at Mr. Bexley with a wry expression, and I swear I see a little moment of connection between them. I’ve been suspecting it more and more. I know love-hate when I see it. I speak into Josh’s neck. “I hate not being able to stare at your pretty face all day.” I breathe in his addictive, perfect scent. Deciduous trees in the sun. Evergreen trees in the snow. A pencil sharpened to a razor point, pressing into fresh white paper. “It’s against HR policy to stare at your corporate rival all day.” I hug him harder. “Whose HR policy?” “One of them, I’m sure. I’ll look it up.” Josh sets me down and kisses my cheek again. Once he starts, he can’t stop. In the elevator I’ll wipe off my Flamethrower lipstick so I can get my proper hello kiss. If I’m lucky he’ll hit the emergency stop button, although we’ve been pissing off the security guards with that. I treat myself to a nice squeeze of his torso before I remember the door is ajar. “Who have you made cry today, Overlord?” At the Sanderson Christmas party, I overheard his nickname and had to laugh. He earned it. “Nobody,” he tells me with adorable sincerity and a blink. “Not a single person. I’m a changed man.” I’m trying to teach him how to be more approachable. More understanding. More like me. At the first Sanderson Christmas party, I stood alone and awkward for an excruciating two minutes, during which time I was the subject of speculation. I felt like the word how was said a lot. I could hear their drunk, high-pitched whispers. She looks normal. Sweet. So small! How does she cope with that…monster?  We should rescue her. Maybe he keeps her chained in this basement. I waved like a dork to show that I was not shackled and was there on my own free will. They shrank back, then fell totally silent as their chief financial officer, aka the Overlord, approached me with a glass of wine. His eyes were soft with tenderness and my heart stopped beating until he restarted it with a kiss. The Overlord snuggled me into his side, fitting us together just right. Hard and soft. Darkness and light. Good cop, bad cop. I registered the jaws dropping. He’s smiling! He’s the Overlord, he calls them his Underlings, but I can see the little signs that he’s getting better at this. At a lot of things, actually. “Did you remember your dad’s present?” “Yep. We’d better get going if we’re going to make the party. Mindy and Patrick have been texting me obsessively. Don’t be late, don’t be late.” He’s sarcastic but I know how much this means to him. I give his arm a stroke and a squeeze. “We won’t be late.” I can’t lie on the couch tonight because I’m needed in Port Worth. I’m Josh’s little lucky charm. When I’m there, he and his dad don’t fight. Luckily for them both, I’m always there. “Got quite a collection by now, Shortcake,” Josh says, looking at the rows of Matchbox cars on the shelf behind me. He forgets our hurry and takes a red Volkswagen beetle out of his pocket, sliding it into one of the gaps. “My toys have given me a reputation for being quirky and approachable.” “No one would guess this strawberry-sweet exterior hides a complete hard-ass.” “I learned from the master. I’m known for being firm but fair.” “Mmm. Tell me more.” He loves sitting at my desk to look at everything I surround myself with, and he lowers himself down into my chair like it’s a milkmaid stool. His eyes are lit with a creepy kind of devotion as he looks at the castle of books against the wall, and the Smurf hiding in one of the battlements. He finds my bottle of perfume and smells the lid as he strokes my computer mouse. “That’s where you’ve been,” he says in a scolding tone to the cardigan slung on the back of my chair. He folds it into a bread-slice square on his knee. I’ve turned him into such a total freak. I’m an even bigger freak when I visit his office. I once touched the speed dial button on his phone marked SHORTCAKE just to make my cell phone ring. Then I was jealous of myself. That’s a sensation I feel a lot. How am I living this life? How did I win so much? Like he can read my mind, Josh picks up the framed photograph on my desk. It’s us together in the strawberry fields. Our eyes are summer bright, and I am sitting between his legs leaning back against him. Around us is a carpet of green, studded with red. The picture is a tiny bit crooked because my dad was a little overexcited by the secret he was keeping. Five minutes after this photo was taken, Josh said, “Hey, it’s an old Smurf in the dirt.” He knew nothing would make me drop to the ground faster. I scratched frantically through the leaves. Where? Where? What I found in the vines at Sky Diamonds Strawberries was a Tiffany blue box. Then I realized he was kneeling down, too. Lucy blue. True-love blue. Even as he squeaked the box open and began to speak, I was dimly aware of cheering from the house. My parents were spying from the office window. After I brushed the squashed berries from the back of his T-shirt, I learned that Josh had become an expert in diamonds. Carat, cut, color, clarity. He shivered with delight as he described staring at imperfections through a loupe. I could just imagine his laser eyes crumbling stones to ash. The way he tells it, he searched through a pile of worthless pebbles until he found something worthy of my tiny finger. I tell him it’s too big, too much, too perfect. He just laughs and says, I know, then makes me forget whether we’re still talking about a diamond. I think my cheeks are going pink right now. When he looks me in the eye, he smirks. He’s definitely a mind reader. “We need a vacation,” he decides, his finger straightening the terracotta tile I use as a coaster. I got that tile in Tuscany. “I’m taking you back. Cheese and wine and sleeping in the sun.” His eyes follow the line of my dress down my body. “Red dresses and champagne and carbohydrates.” A pause, and there’s a little vulnerability in his expression now. “I didn’t go crazy and dream it all, did I?” “I have frequently assured you that I’m real.” I take his hand in mine and use it to pinch my forearm. “I was there for every incredible second. I always will be. Now, quit talking about carbohydrates. You’re turning me on.” He laughs. “We’d better get out of here.” He grabs my coat and walks out to chat with Helen and Mr. Bexley. I log off and lock away the stack of slush pile manuscripts I’ve been reading as my own little treat. I lock my door and just watch his reflection bounce around off the slick, glossy surfaces that make up level ten. The only thing better than having one Josh is having a hundred. I look at the plaque on my office door as I lock it. It says, Chief Operating Officer, and usually it has me grinning like a dork. But right now, I’m smiling over something else. The gold ring on Joshua Templeman’s left hand has set off a shower of firework sparkles in this huge black prism. Each time I focus on one particular reflection, it fractures and doubles. It’s a kaleidoscope of his love around me now. There are a hundred gold rings. A thousand. It’s still not enough. I want to spin around while they circle me like fireflies. That’s how he makes me feel, every day of ours lives. It’s wonderful. It’s primal. It’s nothing short of a miracle. My name is Lucy Templeman.
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in-tua-deep · 5 years
Text
things i think the Hargreeves should do post apocalypse:
Luther:
Any adult shop classes because I genuinely love mechanic!Luther and have been slipping that into like, all my aus where I can.
Goes to slam poetry nights because he genuinely enjoys poetry (hello space poetry from episode one about the comet or whatever) and maybe one day is confident enough to share his with other people
Gets some gym bros who all enthusiastically support him in a bro sort of way who are constantly getting their minds blown by how much Luther can lift and constantly going “YOOOOOO” while Luther tries to downplay things bc he’s embarrassed 
I don’t know I just want Luther to have actual friends
Probably goes to every astronomy event where people have telescopes and is known in that scene so every time there’s some event at the observatory newcomers are like “what the FUCK” when this bigass bodybuilder comes in and starts gushing about which planet is visible I don’t know
Spearheads a lot of the family’s museum (that aren’t art museum) outings, especially if they have any exhibit that even vaguely relates to outer space or planets or the moon or anything. 
Probably gets up at godawful hours on the morning to go hiking and see the sunrise because he really liked doing that on the moon and even though it isn’t quite the same he still loves to do it. (If he’s not hiking he goes up to Grace’s roof garden to watch it)
Diego:
He already does his fighting at the gym which is kind of cool I’m going to gently assume that he already has gym bros and if he doesn’t then he becomes somewhat more approachable after everything
(having your mother comes down to the gym and kiss your cheek or your teenage brother hop in to drag you away or you other very flamboyant sibling dance his way into the gym to fetch you doesn’t exactly do wonders for keeping a reputation going)
I do want to think that Diego takes up like,, whittling but I think he’d have to do it away from Vanya bc,, you know,, Leonard/Harold whatever was a woodcarver or something but idk maybe Vanya is cool with it - but just the image of Diego hunching over and carving at something and Klaus leaning over and trying to enthusiastically guess what it is while getting it super super wrong because Diego is a beginner and his starting pieces are all lumpy monstrosities makes me smile
Diego taking cooking classes so that he can surprise Grace by taking over dinner sometimes and letting her relax and do what she wants
I’ve said this somewhere before but Diego spearheading picnic events and forcing the family out of the house because he thinks it’s a nice thing for Grace to see the world and on god if any of his siblings fight him about it he will stuff their asses into a picnic basket himself because they are GOING
Gets dragged by Klaus into dumb ideas to “give ourselves a CHILDHOOD diego” more than any other member of the family. Which basically means that Diego is the one Klaus grabs to surf a mattress down the staircase and other dumbass ideas
Allison:
Probably ends up redecorating the mansion and completely redoing it to make it more modern and also less the horrible hellscape with taxidermied animals on the walls that it is. Her and Grace squad up to plan everything and then Allison makes everyone help when it comes to things like painting and building all the nice ikea furniture she just bought
Takes parenting classes as sort of extra credit for her custody case for Claire. I feel like eventually she and Patrick genuinely talk to each other, maybe at some kind of joint therapy, and sort of clear the air between them. They might never get back together, but they at least become sort of friends again. Mainly because I like the Patrick I’ve built up for myself in my head tbh
Occasionally attends craft classes with Klaus when she has a spare moment, because he goes to like,, all the local craft classes. She likes to spend the time with him. Is probably the only sibling who willingly attends with Klaus, but others get dragged along as well.
Probably takes up scrapbooking? She wants to have something physical to give to Claire so decides to go through like,, all the camera footage of their childhoods and pick out good images (because goodness knows they didn’t have cute family pictures) and maybe Grace uploads some of her memories to a harddrive with cute shit and they scrapbook together let me have this
on a related note buys a camera and starts trying to catch her siblings doing cute things for her scrapbook with the sort of determined energy of someone who has realized that she’s having to do her scrapbooking from security camera footage because their childhoods were fucked up
(she has a bajillion pictures of herself - thank you paparazzi - but all she has on her siblings is like... what, one of diego’s fighting posters and the two pictures of Vanya from her book and from the newspaper on the fucked up apocalypse concert??)
Klaus:
Genuinely goes to any and all craft classes offered at the community center and random places around town. Usually sort of a disaster, always a disaster when he drags along his siblings, and always proudly brings home his third grader worthy creations that Grace proudly puts on the shelves. He gets better at things the more he goes to them though, so there’s a progression of skill level in his crafts. Allison goes with him when she has time.
Has a knitting circle that he attends that is primarily made of little old ladies who dote on him. Five occasionally goes with but it often conflicts with Five’s other extra curricular activities.
Bakes at home a lot, with Grace’s supervision after some certain incidents that should remain unnamed. Tends to get ‘creative’ with the recipes but now that Grace is present to make sure it won’t be a disaster everyone is more willing to taste whatever comes out. Has, on at least one occasion, insisted on decorating cookies or icing cupcakes or whatever as a ‘family bonding activity.’
Goes with Ben to the movie theater frequently even to the gross horror movies that Klaus hates and Ben absolutely loves. Klaus always insists Diego come to the horror movies so that Klaus has someone physically there for him to hold onto when he’s scared. Five comes sometimes as well, but tends to critique the special effects - especially blood and blood splatter - which makes other people turn around to hush them.
Five:
I genuinely want to say he does gymnastics lessons. Mainly because I feel like he needs to do SOMETHING physical and get rid of his excess energy, and also I think it would be hilarious for him to be tumbling and teleporting and shit at the same time what a wild ride. Absolutely refuses to allow his siblings to come to any competitions or whatever, but they all end up showing up anyway.
Starts learning instruments. Asks Vanya for lessons on the violin so they can play together, it’s very cute. I also wants to say starts learning the piano because someone sent me an ask once about it and it was super valid. And Five can learn both because I say so and he doesn’t go to school he has the free time
Is on first name basis with a bunch of scientists and mathematicians online where they all yell numbers at one another. Probably in a super technical group chat with a bunch of people with actual doctorates who don’t actually know that Five doesn’t have a doctorate. 
Actually you know what just let Five start actually going to college like let him go to the local community college or start taking college classes or something. He can get his GED or whatever. Let this boy get a DEGREE
Goes to art classes, first because drawing therapy was something Klaus suggested and he wanted to get his brother off his back. Later because he enjoys it. There’s a life drawing group he frequents - he’s the youngest there and new people always do a double take when he shows up but Five is very meticulous in his art and is actually pretty good. Grace goes with him as well because I say so and they deserve bonding time together
Ben:
I mean he’s kind of dead but let him do things with his siblings as well!!
Like I said earlier, a total movie buff and loves going to see things in theaters. And by movie buff I just mean he sees a lot of movies. Bizarrely into horror movies for how sensitive a kid he always was. He goes to the theater with Klaus for the most part but likes to watch movies with the family as well. Klaus makes him watch every animated movie with him in return for Ben dragging Klaus to watch horror movies.
Probably ends up with a youtube channel?? does movie reviews and game playthroughs whenever Klaus has enough energy to manifest him. Is pretty popular but half his followers are because of the bizarre shit that goes on in the backgrounds of his videos. People figure out Klaus (who is a frequent guest) is The Seance and then Five jumps in to tell them dinner is ready or something and they’re like “wait is that the Seances brother with the portal powers who vanished when he was a teen and still IS a teen” and the fact that ben probably has a username that’s some shit like “bentacles” that klaus set up for him everyone is theorizing that the channel is just. Ghost Ben and Five who are being manifested by the Seance to?? play games? 
well. they’re half right.
it certain doesn’t help the rumor mill when Ben makes sarcastic comments about dying or how he can’t get arrested because he’s legally dead and shit like that.
“Yeah sorry I didn’t post yesterday Klaus’s knitting group ended up getting arrested somehow - I was there and I’m still not sure went down - so that’s why I didn’t manifest”
Vanya:
I mean obviously she plays the violin that’s her job. She also teaches Five how to play the violin when he expresses an interest!! She is very touched by the gesture
Swims to keep fit and is a frequent at the pool. Klaus once bugged her to let him come, but it’s really her thing that she just does by herself when she wants to get out of her own brain. She does promise Klaus that they’ll take a family trip to a water park one day though, which he enthusiastically takes her up on.
Attends a book club that she also half-shares with Ben. Ben doesn’t come with to any of the meetings, but she always buys two copies/borrow two copies from the library so that Ben can read along with them and he and Vanya discuss the books before she even goes to any of the meetings. Probably thought there would be more discussion of the books than complaining about their general lives, but keeps going because she lowkey wants an excuse to keep frequenting the bookstore where this cute girl works.
Her and Five steadily are making their way through all the coffee shops in the city (as well as through their menus) in search of the best cup of coffee. It’s just a fun thing they do together that the other siblings occasionally go with as well whenever they have time. Both Five and Vanya have notebooks where they record their ratings based on a variety of factors. Diego calls them pretentious and Klaus always gets the ones which are barely classified as coffee when he goes with (Five steals sips and makes faces but continues to do so)
Grace:
Frequents art museums and galleries! Supports a lot of beginning and local artists by buying their art and has a lot of rotating paintings and prints in the house depending on her mood. She got rid of pretty much like,, all the old painting that Reggie had up except for a few of her favs which she relocates to her new room that Diego put his foot down on giving her
Goes with Five to his art classes at first because, as a minor, he needed an adult to go with him for nudity reasons (it’s a life drawing class man). Grace didn’t expect to actually draw herself but Five insisted because he felt awkward with her just standing there. She prefers abstract styles herself (so many people at this art class have a crush on Grace you have no idea)
(actually goes with Five to most things he’s beginning for himself for at least the first lesson to sign him up as an adult because Five loathes having to ask his siblings)
Commissions someone to come and paint a portrait of the family that’s for them, where none of them are stiff and they’re all happy. She tips the artist fabulously for it and hangs the new family portrait in the place of honor above the mantle where Five’s portrait used to hang (they all destroyed it as a family bonding activity)
Keeps bees on the roof after one of the kids showed her an article about saving the bees. She can’t get stung and genuinely enjoys hanging out up there where she ALSO started a big garden because I say so and Grace deserves to be surrounded by flowers and bumblebees and happiness don’t @ me
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shiplocks-of-love replied to your post “Man, today was a shitshow.  It started with getting nearly run over...”
Goodness, that was an eventful day. So, basically you don't have days off, if you need to work even partial days on Sundays and Mondays. That sucks - hard for you to recover properly! Sometimes the world seems to conspire to bring us spectacularly crappy days. Sending you a hug!
Yup. Exactly. No days off. It sucks. Basically how it works is: I have a full-time job, but the hourly wage is total crap, only just above minimum wage, and the cost of living in my city is high. So I also teach voice lessons two evenings per week, because it pays more than 3x what the other job pays per hour, but it’s also more intense (because teaching one-on-one just is), but it’s also in the domain that I have a masters in (classical singing), so that’s nice, in a way? It’s definitely nice to have a job that pays me at the value I feel I merit, if that makes sense. But I’m still constantly, constantly struggling to make ends meet (hence my timid reminder to folk the other day that I have a Patreon page, though it didn’t score me a single new donor, haha (*despair*)), yet working practically around the clock. Mondays are my “day off”, ish, but not the evening. On Tuesdays I work all day at the museum, then teach a bunch in the evening. I just lost two students (an adult who decided she can’t afford it anymore, and a 12-year-old that I was all too happy to lose bc she decided she wanted to take dance lessons instead, so it’s fine, but also less $$). Wednesday evenings are about to get busy with a volunteer thing that may lead to decent choral conducting work in the future, but not as yet (this is part of me attempting to re-establish myself in my home city after years away). Thursday nights I have church choir, which I do for fun and which is genuinely relaxing. Friday evenings are sacred and I generally keep them free to hang out with my bff. We do food and movies. It’s our thing. His husband can’t eat or doesn’t like most of the food my bestie likes (he has IBS and also a SUPER vanilla palate), and also doesn’t enjoy sitting through movies, so it’s perfect, as it’s been our main hangout activity for 20 years now. Saturday evenings are also usually free, hence the main spate of cleaning I did tonight. And then Sundays are free once I’m done church, but I often end up having family stuff. Happily I don’t tomorrow, so the bff and I are going for dinner (Indian! Whoo!) and then rewatching the first three episodes of Patrick Melrose. :) And then on Monday I’m going to actually sleep more than 5 hours. It will be *amazing*. 
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megbox · 5 years
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2019 Year in Review
Previous Posts: (2018) (2017) (2016) (2015) (2014) (2013) (2012) (2011) 
It’s actually kind of interesting how... less interesting these year-in-reviews get as I get older. Depending on how you look at it, 2019 was somewhat of an unremarkable year. I spent much of it tragically broke, I didn’t get the opportunity to do much traveling. But at the same time, not having these flashy, colourful experiences to write about all the time makes me value the easy, simple things more. It forces me to be a bit more reflective about how the day-to-day life I am carving out for myself teaches me things and about the person I am becoming. 
Far and away, the most positive thing to come out of 2019 has been that I am real deals social worker now. I have the best job in the entire world. I have “RSW” in my email signature and on my business cards. I do work that is meaningful to me every single day. There is so much to learn but I’m in the right place to be learning it. And I am really proud of myself for getting here ❤️
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January 
Unlike the last few years, 2019 began on a high note. The millisecond that student loan hit my direct deposit, I took a little trip to Jasper to visit my friend Oliver who was teaching snowboarding at Marmot Basin for the season. I braved some very treacherous roads to make it to Jasper. It took me nearly eight hours. Highway 93 was closed so I had to take the long route and basically white-knuckled it the whole way. But it was so worth it. I found myself later that evening in a dorm room full of young Scandinavian people, downing American Vintage iced teas and feeling like I was at a frat party. We went to this club called Four Peaks and they played Rasputin by Boney M and everyone went crazy. I hooked up with this gorgeous Danish ski instructor named Rasmus. He was so beautiful. I am proud of that one, honestly. Oliver and I went skiing and hiking and we went to Earl’s and he tried a Caeser. By the end of the weekend, I think we maybe ran out of things to talk about. But it was really cool to see him and to hear about the last few years of his life and how excited he was to move to New Zealand to be with his girlfriend (whom he met on the same trip where he and I met, in Hawaii!)
On January 14, I started my second practicum. It was a sad transition. My time at CommunityWise had been so great that anything new was going to pale in comparison but my new placement was especially bad. It was so slow there. My computer hadn’t been updated in years and I didn’t have access to anything for weeks. My supervisor was barely around (not her fault, though. She was finishing her MSW, had two young children, was the team lead for both family centres in the city and had two practicum students to supervise. Girl was busy). I remember one morning while I was helping one of the caseworkers with some menial task like organizing the food pantry, and I was just so frustrated, I kind of asked her point-blank, “Is this practicum meant to be more self-directed?” and I just started crying as I asked it. I kind of… whimpered it. It was awkward but from that point on, they made way more of an effort to give me tasks and engage me in the work that was being done there. Lesson learned: you get what you ask for.
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February  The first weekend of February is what we would call a “power weekend.” Looking back on these actions now, I cringe. However, at the time, I was pretty stoked. I slept with a friend from podcast club after a house party. For ease, I will refer to him as W. W had asked me out twice prior to this happening. I actually said yes, and we had plans to get drinks, but his best friend ended up going through a breakup the night before and he cancelled last minute. So then we slept together. Drunkenly. And it wasn’t… good. I chalked it up to the drunkenness. We went out on a real date, I made sure to have like one glass of wine maximum. He was lovely and great company and he taught me how to play crib but… you know that feeling when you’re like god, I wish I was enjoying this but I am just not enjoying this. It was like that all night. And it felt heavy. If I am being completely honest, there was also this strange moment that night where I had the thought, “he kind of looks like my grandfather if he were younger” and there is truly no recovering from that kind of realization.
February was also a terrible month because I had no days off. I will go to my grave angry about being required to work for free in my practicums. I was doing 32+ unpaid hours at this boring practicum and then working evenings and weekends at Famoso whenever I could. And Famoso was dead, so I wasn’t even making good money. This was also where I began to start witnessing things in my practicum that started to fuck with me. At first, I thought I was just having trouble sleeping. But over time in seminar and debriefs with my social work friends who were going through the same thing I realized that it was the oh-so-pleasant combination of vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue. 
Over the reading week, I went to Fernie with Maddy and her friends for a ski/party weekend and that was truly awesome. One of those weekends where your ribs ache for days once you’re back because you laughed so hard. Some highlights: 
It snowed 60cm the night before we skied. It was powder up to your waist. 
• Maddy’s friend Melissa liked our bartender at the hostel. She took his phone and texted herself from it so he would have her number and vice versa. Then she got so drunk that later the same evening, she was looking at the text and forgot that she had sent it to herself so she texted back, “Who is this?” Also LOL #Bryna. 
• I took nudes of Maddy in the hostel shower to send to the guy she was seeing at the time. LOL. What are friends for? 
• Maddy and I met this set of twins who are the definition of gym bros. Identical twins. We ended up hooking up with them. At the same time. In our bunk bed at the hostel. We high fived. I later fell off the top bunk. We gave them a beer for the road when they left. All year long, we send one another their Instagram posts and stories whenever it’s them flexing in the gym mirror and just laugh about, “we really slept with those guys.” 
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March 
In March, I got the flu. It was very annoying. I had to miss practicum (meaning I’d have to make up the hours somehow later). I stated binge watching Grey’s Anatomy. 
I ended things with W. It was kind of harsh but it needed to be done. I need to stop breaking up with people in the weeks prior to my birthday because we had a total Dave-Simard-2.0 situation where W told me he had purchased a birthday present for me and he still wanted to give it to me.
I also ran the St. Patrick’s Day Road Race again!!! Good times as always. 
Practicum got much better in March. I had many things to do. I got to design the curriculum for and facilitate a six-week girl’s group. I assisted with the planning and running of a series of community tax clinics which was cool. Except the guy from the agency whose project it was is a creep. He kept telling me all of these stories that were incredibly inappropriate given the fact that we knew each other only in a professional sense. He made many comments about women’s bodies and appearances that were gross. And I got left in some pretty unsafe situations all by myself. AND he made me pay out of pocket for snacks for one of the tax clinics and never reimbursed me for that. I kind of forgot about that until just now. Wow. 
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April 
April was a big month! 
I went to Portland for my birthday weekend with Matt and Connor. When I think back to this trip, it was lovely, but mostly what I remember is a lot of beer, a lot of rain, and being hungover. Portland is a really cool city. I wasn’t totally expecting to be confronted with as much homelessness and substance use as I was but, that’s my privilege talking. Some highlights from the trip include: 
• The “Flower in the Kettle” IPA I had. 
• The mascarpone, corn and lobster agnolotti I had for my birthday dinner at A Cena. Recommended to me by a trusted friend I worked with at Famoso. So rich. SO FUCKING GOOD. 
• Meeting this really drunk real estate agent at a dive bar and convincing her that Matt and Connor were both my boyfriends. I still have her business card in my wallet. I am unsure why. 
• The Weezer concert was honestly awesome. 
• Matt actually trying out the guyliner. 
• Meeting some random guy when I went to get gum at a corner store. His name was Dan. He was old. His girlfriend had kicked him out and he was just walking around. He’d been in prison for a lot of his life. We had a good chat. I got his phone number and now we have each other on Facebook. 
• In the airport on the way home, Matt and I were so overtired that absolutely everything was hilarious. The gif game (the gif of Kevin from The Office dropping the bucket of chili. “Me in Thailand”), and the beginning of when I got let in to the “KEVIN!!!!” joke. I had tears in my eyes. 
• Connor yelled at me in a pizza restauraunt LOL (sorry Connor. I know you Ctrl+F your name. But this was memorable to me.) 
In the middle of April, I FINISHED MY PRACTICUM HOURS AND EFFECTIVELY GOT MY DEGREE. I cannot describe to you how good it felt to be driving home from one of those tax clinics after my third twelve-hour day (making up practicum hours is fun) knowing I never had to go back. Knowing that soon enough, I’d get to work on all the same cool projects but actually get paid for my time.
We visited Saskatoon for Easter, which would turn out to be the last time I got to see my Baba. She was very ill, and both of us knew that it would likely be the last time, so I did get to say my goodbyes. It was very difficult and I sobbed for a lot of the ride home. It’s a weird feeling, when someone you love has been so ill for so long, and you begin to see their condition really deteriorate. When the idea of life without that person starts to become a reality. There was almost an… acceptance? It sounds so callous to say and it’s way more complex than this but also somewhat of a relief in the finality of it. I don’t know. It was a lot. 
April was also when I started interviewing for social work jobs. I had two interviews. The first one was at CCASA, essentially for what I thought was my dream job. I have never psyched myself out so hard for anything in my life. I thought about that interview and that interview alone for weeks. I studied harder than I have for any test ever. When the time came for the interview, I was so nervous. I became this meek and mild version of myself. It was honestly devastating. But of course, had I gotten that job, I would never have interviewed at the University of Calgary. My boss-to-be called me for a pre-interview while I was on shift at Famoso. It was busy, too. But I just said fuck it and ducked into the back and talked to her on the phone for twenty minutes. She invited me for an interview a week later where I had to give a five-minute presentation on managing stress as a student. Rock on. 
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May 
On May 1, I got offered THE JOB AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY! It was truly one of the happiest moments of my life. There is nothing more satisfying and exciting than actually attaining something you’ve been dreaming of for so long. It was for a one year contract on a maternity leave coverage, facilitating community trainings around suicide prevention, helping skills, all that good stuff. I was going to be on salary. I was going to have benefits. I WAS GOING TO BE ABLE TO WALK TO WORK AND HAVE A REAL CAREER THAT I WOULD BE PROUD OF AND EXCITED ABOUT.
I hung up the phone after accepting the job, texted all the requisite people about the good news, and then immediately drove to Famoso to quit. My boss at Famoso was angry with me because I did not give two weeks notice. I said I would work out the rest of my scheduled shifts. He was a jerk, he yelled at me in frustration saying, “You work here for five fucking years, we accommodate every trip, every vacation, every practicum and you don’t even have the courtesy to give me two weeks notice?!” It wasn’t a big deal though. He was just being an asshole. And hey, Steve, you’re still an asshole!
So my last day serving tables at Famoso Westhills was May 3, 2019. I’m usually not good with goodbyes but it was the easiest thing in the world to just walk out of there at the end of the night knowing I would never be back. I had ten days until I started my actual job at the University (a bit of an oversight on my part because I had ~no money~ so what the fuck was I going to do with ten days).
My grandmother passed away on May 19, 2019. Back to Saskatoon on May 28 for the funeral. It was really fucking sad and really fucking weird to see all of my cousins crying. My grandma also had a big Catholic funeral and none of us are particularly religious and as the direct relatives of the deceased we were at the front of the church and it was really obvious none of us had any idea when to kneel vs. stand and didn’t know any of the words or tunes to the songs.
On a happier note, my brother was accepted into medical school in May. Not that I ever doubted my brother would be a successful person, but this just really solidified it. Dr. MacKay.
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June 
June was rather uneventful. I was honestly so cripplingly broke at this point, and it was so long before I actually saw a full salaried paycheck. I had to borrow money from my parents just to like, function. And pay my bills. It was embarrassing. But I was working full time and learning so many cool things about the job that it made it alright.
I walked the stage on the first week of June and accepted my BSW degree. I didn’t want to go but it was actually a pretty awesome and happy occasion.
The other big thing that happened in June is that Maddy moved to Australia. It sucks that I only met Maddy in the summer of 2018. She is so awesome and we became so close so quickly. I genuinely love her so much and spending time with her is so easy and fun, it was really sad when she left knowing that it was highly possible she may never return or at least not for several YEARS.
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July 
By July, my new job was in full swing. I was facilitating trainings every other day (so much public speaking experience!), I was sitting on a committee, every day was new and challenging and exciting. 
My dad had a giant party for his 60th birthday, with some friends even coming from Saskatoon. They rented a limousine that took us to the Black Diamond hotel because apparently my parents have some kind of significance there. I did a shot with my grandfather? We played pool and Big Buck hunter? None of my friends came but all of my brother’s friends came and I honestly think that it turned the tables in terms of who my parents’ favourites are in terms of friends. 
I also had an awesome weekend at Folk Festival mostly with Kendal and Lachlan but also featuring guest appearances from Chad and Gillian. Podcast club pals. There is just nothing better than folk festival, honestly. Food trucks and music in the sun and drinking sangria from a flask and admiring everyone’s cool outfits and getting a tan and listening to concerts all day. I had a nap in the middle of the afternoon on Sunday and it was like the most glorious 45 minutes of my entire year. 
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August 
Oh, no. August. I was still cripplingly broke (it takes a long time to catch up to a point where your entire paycheck is not just going to paying back things you’ve borrowed) and I made the utterly stupid decision to go to a music festival. 
Big Valley Jamboree, baby. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the best weekend that I am never ever doing again. Some highlights: 
• Mere minutes after arriving, I watched a man vomit. 
• The “Tony Keith” joke really took off. Lucas and I were so #inone on the Friday night we kept yelling and trying to start chants (“old man graphics!” is my personal favourite in response to Toby Keith’s random, pro-military Americana concert graphics).
• I gave my phone to somebody and then wandered off in search of this stupid boy’s campsite. I got very, very lost. The BVJ campground is a large place. I had no idea where I was going and was literally just stumbling through the dark and the mud. I ended up in the middle of some middle-aged Newfoundlanders’ campsite. They welcomed me. They offered me and sandwich and several beers. We chatted for like an hour. It was the best. I walked for SO LONG and finally found my own campsite. But we’re talking literally hours of walking around blind and disoriented. There were a few moments when I genuinely thought I was going to have to wait until the sun came up. 
• A few less-than-classy moments in porta potties. 
• The HANGOVERS. Jesus lord. I couldn’t survive. 
• Airwaves guy was great and I also had a really good buffalo chicken poutine thing that I remember fondly. 
In happier and much more professional news, I facilitated my first Community Helpers training in August. I was very nervous. Like, stay up all night the night before nervous. And we had some technical difficulties with setting up. But my coworker / work BFF Jeannie was there and she was a great support to me. She ran and got me a coffee and a banana bread because I hadn’t eaten and was so so stressed. And she encouraged me through the whole thing. It went really really well. I almost choked up at the end while thanking the participants for coming and explaining how it was my first training and they were such a great group to do it with. 
The squad was all super broke so we turned to free activities. It was very wholesome. We spent many afternoons and evenings reading in Prince’s Island Park with snacks. We went to Shakespeare in the park. We went hiking. 
A lot of my friends moved away in August. Such is life when your friends are all academics or have bright futures that are not confined to the Calgary city limits. Sydney moved to Victoria to start her PhD and we had a nice day at Elbow Falls eating berries and then having dinner with my family. Adam and Kendal both moved to Ottawa to start a fancy new government job and an MSW degree, respectively. I am really really proud of all of my friends but I miss them, too. Calgary is not the same without these people. 
On the flip side – a new roommate moved in! Maddie left to move to Red Deer to be with Joel and so our new roommate was a French exchange student named Aurore. She arrived and was shocked to see that none of the advertised furniture was in her room except for one limp mattress. Karla and I hadn’t even known she was coming because my landlord sucks, but we helped her get her things together and then ordered her some Skip the Dishes. She was exhausted. And sweet. And was starting a block week MBA class the next day in her second language. I felt for her. 
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September 
In September, the inklings of me moving into a different role at the university were planted. My boss called me in to her office one afternoon and shut the door. I was terrified but she said to me, “you’re not in trouble. Actually, just the opposite.” She brought up the recent vacancies in the job I now hold (lol: spoilers) and said, “Just think about it. I just want you to know that there would be no hard feelings if you chose to apply for the role.” I was flattered but also caught off guard. I did not think I was qualified for the job. I had virtually no client experience in either of my practicums. I wasn’t even registered with the ACSW at this point. And I loved my old job and my health promotion coworkers so so much. But also… I was on a twelve month contract. And the person away on leave was definitely coming back. I was “strongly encouraged” to get registered with the college. 
It was honestly such a mess. They gently nudged me towards applying for the role, I was torn. Then they told me it probably wouldn’t work because I wasn’t yet registered with the ACSW, and even if I did register would still only be provisional. I felt an odd sense of relief at that, and had totally psyched myself out of being able to do the job at that point. At the last minute, I was told “just submit an application to keep our options open.” I did so. I got an interview. I interviewed (and it was SO fucking stressful…. Interviewing with people you already work with is 10x worse than interviewing with strangers. I tell ya.). And… I got the job!!! Not only did I get the job, I got a full-time, permanent contract (there were two positions, one full-time and one on a longer contract. I was told from the beginning I would just be applying for the longer contract but I ended up getting the FULL TIME ONE.) It was a HUGE boost to my confidence and again, one of the happiest days of the year.  
September was also just absolutely insane for work. So many orientation presentations, students reaching out wanting to get involved, starting all of the volunteer programs, planning. I was so, so, so SO FREAKING TIRED. But we did lots of fun things. Like we took Aurore and her friend Cecile to Banff, had them try Caesers and Beaver Tails and all kinds of Canadian things. 
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October 
On my last day in my old role, my coworkers decorated my desk with a homemade banner and got me desserts. We went to McDonald’s for a feast and sat in the Hub and made jokes. It felt really special and I was really touched. 
On October 7, I started my new-but-also-kind-of-the-same job. I was very nervous and there was a lot to learn right from the get go. And it was so… strange. I HAD MY OWN OFFICE. WITH MY NAME ON THE DOOR AND EVERYTHING. The imposter syndrome hit me like a tsunami. I was extremely stressed, extremely overwhelmed. But my teammates and my boss are great. They understand I’m new not just to the role but to the field. They were (and are) so kind and patient with me and answer all of my questions. 
For Thanksgiving, we went to Banff. We had beers and did a little bowling at High Rollers and then went to the Rimrock for dinner. It was very nice. A few weeks later, I hosted my own friendsgiving dinner and roasted a turkey! And spent all day decorating my parents’ house and the table to look fancy. Everything turned out really really well. I was super stoked. Note to self: throw more dinner parties. 
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November: 
What I recall from November is just… stress. The case management / social worker life came at me real hard, real fast. I had to call CFS for the first time. My client did not want me to. It was hard. I did not cope well. My coping strategy was to fuck off to Lake Louise (?) for a weekend in a hostel and drink two bottles of wine with some random sorority girls from Chicago. And tears.
The cooking phase was in full swing at this point. Eggs benedict, soft pretzels, curry, French onion soup, gnocchi, prosciutto apple blue cheese chicken, apple and chai galettes.
The third week of November was also when I decided to start training for the half marathon. I found a plan online and set out to follow it and honestly, it’s been great. I usually don’t stick to exercise routines for longer than a month because I tend to go too hard, too fast and I overdo it and I let one hungover day derail me. But this plan wasn’t focused on distance but rather time spent running. So rather than, “I have to run 5km” today it’s, “I have to run for 45 minutes today.” I thought I’d hate that but I actually really like it. It encourages me to go a little slower and just run out the clock, at whatever pace. And the speed is building gradually, and naturally.
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December: 
Aaaand December!
December has been so much marathon training. Today, I am entering my seventh week of consistent running and exercise. That is a badass accomplishment for me. I am very pleased. I even managed to do my runs in Saskatoon on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Aurore left back to Paris. She had a birthday party at the house with all of her international friends and we went for sushi and looked at Christmas lights in the rich people neighborhoods before she returned home. She ended up being so wonderful. I will miss her.
I went to Radium for a weekend with Kennedy, Matt, Amanda, and their friend Katie. The takeaways from this experience are: I am excited to get to spend more time with Kennedy and Amanda and to become better friends with them, I think I like smoking weed now, and skiing is the best.
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2020: 
To be completely honest, my life is pretty good. I sometimes wish I had somebody to share it with, and that’s something I hope to be a little better about in 2020 is putting myself out there in more of a meaningful way. 
I also am super excited to continue down this path with my career and to develop personally and professionally as a social worker. There is truly so much to learn and I’m really motivated and excited right now to do well at this which is an awesome feeling. I do need to work on not taking my work home with me so much, about separating the social work life from the personal life. Setting boundaries and all that good stuff. 
I’m hopefully going to run my first half marathon in 2020. May 31. The countdown is on. Excited to cross that item off the bucket list and experience the rush of crossing the finish line! That endorphin high is going to be insane. 
And I want to keep developing my cooking skills. Though they may be small, they are mighty. I want to try and learn how to make fresh pasta dough. LOL. Simple goals. 
Anyways... thank you 2019 for all you have brought me and taught me. I am grateful for the life I get to the live and the experiences I get to have. And I’m super stoked to see where 2020 takes me. 
<3 
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dcublogger · 5 years
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Ellen | Religious Education
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Semester 1, 2019
Hi my name is Ellen and welcome to my crib blog.
September 2019; An Introduction of Sorts
Hi! My name is Ellen and I am a second year student studying the Bachelor of Religious Education and English - don’t worry, it’s not as daunting as it sounds!
Welcome to my blog! 
A blog?
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Yes, a blog. This is where I am going to provide you with an insight into life at DCU - or at least try! I’m really excited about this. I plan on letting you know about all the aspects of DCU from my experiences and filling you in on college life and opportunities. I will fill you in on the things that I engage with throughout the year, whether it be within my course or outside of it. I intend on doing as much as I can this year alongside my coursework, assignments and placement. 
Why DCU?
I choose to study here at DCU because I felt like it offered me the perfect course for the job I wanted to pursue in the future. I attended an Open Day on the St. Patrick’s Campus and I was sold. The people were beyond lovely and helpful and I am delighted to say that this did not change when I came into college. Everybody I have had an opportunity to meet and talk to have been wonderful. DCU offers a number of opportunities in this respect. On top of this, DCU provides students with a chance to engage with the things that we love - any hobbies or interests that we have! It is excellent because there is something for everyone and if not - you can make it yourself, no matter how far out your ideas might be!
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Plans for the year?
Well, I am glad you asked. This year I plan to do a couple of things! Firstly, I want to focus on my course and the work I have to do throughout the year. I really want to get the most out of college in this respect as I am surrounded by really professionals who can aid me on the journey to becoming the best teacher I can be. Secondly, I want to get really involved in all the work that the Student Ambassadors do. I want to avail of all the opportunities that the job presents to me. Thirdly, I want to get involved in all aspects of college life to the best of my ability. I really want to experience a lot this year!
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And last, but definitely not least, I want to start learning how to drive! This might sound ridiculous but I have been putting it off for far too long and this year is the year I will do it!!
I really hope that everyone enjoys my blog this year. It would be incredible if anyone gets something from them - be it a piece of information that they need or just a smile! :)
I really recommend that you read the blogs written by other students! They are a great way for you to learn about life as a student and to see what potential opportunities might be coming your way in the future!
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P.S: Come to our Open Days happening on November 15th and 16th!
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September 2019; Orientation and Freshers Week
Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel blog! In today’s video blog we are going to talk about all the things that come with starting college!
Orientation 2019
I worked Orientation this year for the first time and I really enjoyed it! Orientation is the first week of the year for any new students attending DCU. Orientation helps you to get ready for the year to come - it is a great way to start to find your feet, get settled and find some new friends.
A lot of people worked hard to organise orientation this year, a number of students (including myself!) spent three days of the week prior to Orientation putting packs together for the new students and organising everyone's jobs for the week to come. Orientation was the first time I got to work with a number of the Student Ambassadors and it was a great way to get to know them alongside all of the other students who were there too! It was a great opportunity to meet new people and make friends!
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Orientation consists of lots of talks and activities (like the scavenger hunt hehe!). The new students, over the course of the week, get to meet academic, administrative and student support staff as well as receive guided tours of the campuses in order to help them feel at ease. College can be a big change so we want to make it as smooth as possible for everyone. We want to make sure that all if our students feel at home on the DCU campuses. On top of the talks and tours, students are given mini tutorials on how to look at and read their timetable. They also get to pick up their student cards and Leap Card which are what everyone worries about the most! 
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It was really nice to meet all the new students and help them out in anyway that I could. I gave a number or tours on DCU's St.Patrick's Campus and it was a great way to get to meet and talk to the new students. The tours are also a great way to help students settle - as well as giving them a tour and the history of the college, it gives ambassadors a chance to give some 'Top-Tips' for college life in general! It also gives people an opportunity to ask us anything they want or need an answer to, especially in that first week!
Freshers Week 2019
Freshers Week happens at the start of the year! It is a chance for everyone to meet new people and make new friends! It is really great because there are a number of different activities and events put on for students during the day and in the evenings. It is not compulsory to attend all, or any, of the events but it is an excellent way to mingle with other students.
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All sorts of events are put on during Freshers Week. This year we had things such as a petting-zoo, movie nights and ‘Paint and Play’. The Student Union (SU) arranges a number of events/activities for Freshers Week. There is the DCU Fest, Bingo Loco and the Freshers Fun Day. On top of that, they also organise events for people who have moved into campus accommodation so they can get to know one another. They also organise things such as County Colours Night and International Night. Throughout the year they also do what is called Wellness Wednesday which is put in place to promote well-being. 
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During the week the SU hosted a table-quiz in aid of Barretstown Children’s Charity - who DCU have partnered with to help support their work with children and their families living with serious illnesses. I went to this and it was absolutely brilliant! Everyone had an incredible night - unfortunately ‘Yup The Ivy’ were not the winning team - but next year we will come back with a vengeance!! There were brilliant prizes to be won throughout the evening in a big raffle, such as tickets to some of the events that the SU were putting on. The evening was made better knowing we had all contributed to a wonderful cause. This is only one of the events that the SU organise for Freshers! It is important that we help each other to feel at home at DCU and this is just one way to do it. There is plenty to do and something for everyone. It also makes the ease back into college a lot easier after the summer!
So, to sum up, Orientation and Freshers Week are great fun and really helpful - it is a great way to make new friends and begin to experience life in college alongside a lovely group of people!
Until the next time, Ellen :)
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P.S: Come to our Open Days happening on November 15th and 16th 2019!
September 18th - 20th 2019; Higher Options
Hello again everyone, I hope you are all doing well! 
In today's blog I’m going to tell you a little bit about Higher Options!
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Higher Options is an event held in the RDS at the start of every school year. It is open to everyone and is particularly popular for fifth and sixth years in secondary schools. Higher Options is a truly excellent idea and if you get the chance to go, do! It is brilliant because it allows students to survey colleges and apprenticeships that are on offer all over the country. Everything is all in one everything which makes life easier for everyone! It offers students the ability to talk to people who are already in or associated with any particular institution, where they can gain invaluable insights on the place in question.
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At the DCU stand you can find prospectus' and mini booklets that summarise each course offered by DCU. There is also a section for general inquiries regarding the university. We divide our stand into the different faculties so that it is easy for people to go directly to the stand they are looking for or be able to find their way around to see what options are available to them! I was at the education stand, representing post-primary teaching alongside the students in the Bachelor of Education (primary school) and Education in Training. It was a fabulous three days! I got to speak to a number of students from other faculties and learn all about their courses and why they chose them and furthermore, I also got to speak to loads of students in school who were searching for the course of their dreams hehe! It was a really great experience because I got to talk to people who were interested in DCU about DCU and student life. I loved helping people learn more about college in general, DCU and the courses that they were interested in. I got to speak to a number of students who were interested in my course which was really cool. It is really nice to hear why people want to do what they want to do! I was thrilled to be there! I really hope I can go again next year!
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I remember when I went to Higher Options in sixth year and it was just as fun from that point of view - it is an entertaining day out of the classroom, where you get to focus on yourself and your future. It is okay to not know too - nobody really knows anyway! The free goodies and tasty food from the food trucks is an added bonus too hehe!
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In short, I am trying to say that Higher Options is a priceless occasion that everyone should have the opportunity to attend! If you get to go, make the most of it. 
That is the end of today's blog, I am excited to see what is to come in the upcoming ones!
Thank you for listening to my TED Talk.
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P.S: Come to our Open Days happening on November 15th and 16th 2019!
November 15th 2019 +; Open Days and Assignment Season!
Hi! I hope you are all doing well!
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We have officially had our November Open Days! They were brilliant!
I hope you enjoyed your day out on our campuses! I hope that you found it to be informative and helpful in some way! I went to a DCU Open Day on St. Patricks’ Campus when I was in sixth year and it certainly helped me to make my decision to attend DCU. The people were so helpful, friendly and very encouraging. I was met with such a warm, happy environment and I hope that you had a similar experience when you were here!
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I met some wonderful people at the Open Day, doing tours and answering questions. It was very busy throughout the day but it was so lovely to meet you all and see how excited people are to get out of school and into college. You will love it here (if you choose to come here!) – you will have the time of your life, meeting new people, making new friends and picking up new hobbies or interests!
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Now that we are a little bit into the semester Assignment Season is upon us! Don’t worry – it is not as bad as it sounds – but it is a reality of college life that we all have to face. We have settled back into college after a wonderfully long summer holiday and now it is time to get to work. The assignments have started to pop up and demand attention from us. It is okay though; we are all working hard and it will all work out at the end!
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Wish me luck!
We will chat soon, thanks again for such a wonderful Open Day Experience!
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Take care of yourself,
Ellen
December 2019: I.T.P
Hi everyone! Welcome back, I hope you are keeping well and minding yourself!
Today’s blog is going to be centered around I.T.P (Intermediate Teaching Practice) which is considered to be a major part of Semester One in second year of the Bachelor of Religious Education and your chosen elective (mine is English!). This is 'major' - for want of a better phrase - because it is the first time you will get up on front of a group of secondary school students to teach them! 
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How does I.T.P work?
I.T.P is similar to FTP (Foundational Teaching Practice) which takes place in first year, only this time it is not with primary school students and you have a little bit longer to teach!
Essentially, you get a class period and teach it with other people from your elective. In first year you are divided into groups of around four to six people but in second year, you might only be teaching with one or two other people. You teach one R.E class and one class of your elective. The students come into the college for the day - we collect them and drop them back afterwards. I.T.P lasts a little bit longer than F.T.P because more classes need to be taught due to smaller groups. 
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So, was it any good?
I.T.P was brilliant this year! Naturally, everyone was a little but nervous just before heading into the classroom for the first time but once you get in there and start, you remember how fun it can be in the classroom. By the time your few minutes are up, you are back in the swing of things and are already looking forward to your second lesson - and after that: placement!
I.T.P is such a wonderful experience because it allows you the opportunity to ease into teaching again (considering the last time was January!). On top of that, it settles any sort of nerves you may have had before placement - you don't get thrown into the deep end. That is why I.T.P is such an important and beneficial experience. It teaches you little bits and bobs that are nice to know before heading out into the classroom on placement.
I.T.P also provides you with an opportunity to receive a lot of feedback that helps you develop your teaching so that you can become the best teacher that you can possibly be - it is beyond insightful and helpful. Especially in such a supportive environment, everyone really binds during exercises like I.T.P .
I.T.P was one of the selling-points that encouraged me to pick this course. The idea of 'micro-teaching' is a little bit daunting at first but when you consider how beneficial it can be, you just have to go for it!
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That is what I have been caught up with the past couple of weeks in between lectures and the end of assignment season! It was a brilliant experience and I'm delighted that I had the opportunity to do it! 
Now, I am off to take a big 'ol nap to get myself ready for next week! Placement is right around the corner and I'm really looking forward to it!  
Until the next time,
Mind yourself,
Ellen
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P.S: If you have any questions about anything DCU related, send an email to [email protected]
December 16th 2019 - January 31st 2020; Placement
Hey, welcome back! I hope you have been keeping well.
Today's blog is going to be about placement - which brought us to the end of a wonderful first semester and into the start of what we hope to be a just as good - if not better - second semester!
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The Bachelor of Religious Education consists of four placements over the course of the four years of the degree.
In first year, you complete two weeks of teaching in a primary school - this is a brilliant experience and one that I will cherish forever! It was an excellent way to begin your teaching career (it is especially great because you are not the same age as your students - if you have just left school you would be about the same age as the sixth years!) and it really allows you to see the progression of learning from sixth class to first year. It gives you the opportunity to see what kind of things that sixth class learn prior to coming into secondary school which gives you some sort of basis for working with first years! 
In second year you will complete four weeks of teaching practice - which is the same as the third year placement! And in fourth year, you do twelve weeks of teaching practice. 
Prior to starting teaching in January every year, you complete a 'School Visit Day' and a 'Context and Engagement Week'. 
'School Visit Day' is an excellent way of meeting the Principal and Vice-Principal of the school you will be completing placement in, as well as other members of staff, the secretaries and your cooperating teachers! You will learn all about the school - its ethos and policies. 
'Context and Engagement Week' is absolutely brilliant! This is a non-teaching week that presents you with an opportunity to meet the class groups you will be working with as well as an opportunity to get to know the staff! You can take part in extracurricular activities that go on in the school as well as getting to know your way around before classes start!
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Placement itself is an absolutely incredible experience - it is easily one of the major highlights of the course! I think the way placement is carried out is a major benefit of the course - it is not a half day in college and half teaching; it is all teaching - you get to get into the role of the teacher and not have to go back-and-forth between the two mindsets of teacher and student. 
I love placement - it is an extremely enjoyable aspect of the course: practice is the best way to learn how to be a teacher. It gives you the chance to put all the theory you have been learning to practice. On top of that, it is the thing you will be doing after you finish college so it is a great way to begin practicing to become the best teacher you possibly can be! 
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I cannot express how enjoyable and beneficial placement is! You will have to see for yourself! I have just completed my second year placement and I am very much looking forward to next year!
If you have any questions about placement, come to some Open Days or email [email protected]
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Until the next time,
Ellen 
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dnp-and-blankets · 6 years
Text
Love Lessons
TW: Abuse mention, Suicide mention, Abandoned, if theres any more pls let me know
3,441 words
Soulmate AU where you don’t realise who your soulmate is until they leave, and then you cry whenever they cry OR Phil is a sunflower happy new kid with a fascination for soulmates, Dan is an angsty, angry, artist who hate soulmates with a passion, ft Patrick Stump 
 "We can't take him" "Why not" "You can barely look after yourself, and are you forgetting we already have a child?" "He has no one!" "Chloe I swear to fuck" "You'd want Daniel to have somewhere to stay wouldn't you?" "It's not my fault the boy wasn't wanted!" "Would you want Daniel to be treated like this?" "He never will be in foster care" "What if something happens to us?" "My sister's ex bought us that house remember? Already furnished, for when Daniel wants to live on his own." "Philip never had that" I don't know what's going on. All I know is that Chloe equals food. And I really wants food. "He's only 4 years old!" "Pwease can I has some toast?" "Philip go to your room." "Chloe, you're not fit enough for this" "Miss Chloe, I'm really hungry" "Philip!" I go upstairs sniffling, and catch a glimpse of a little boy my age. He growls at me and throws a fox teddy. I pick the teddy up and name him Thomas.
                                                          ~*~
                  I'm very excited today. Today I start at a college that teaches soulmate lessons weekly. Today I start at a college in the town I'll hopefully spend more than a few weeks in. Today, I can finally start figuring out who my soulmate is.  I take a deep breath and look in the mirror. My quiff is being pressed down ever so slightly by a sunflower flower crown. My glasses hang lazily off my nose. I smile brightly at myself and glance at my outfit one more time- a yellow shirt, with the sleeves rolled up halfway up my arms, black jeans, odd socks, white trainers, and a light blue denim jacket- and went through my bedroom door. "Good luck at school Philip!" Stephanie's chirpy voice sang as I walked passed the kitchen. Me and Stephanie moved here to celebrate her second year of adopting me, and we decided homeschool just wasn't going to cut it anymore. I thanked her, grabbed my lunch money, college I.D, shoved Thomas into my pocket, and begun the walk to school. I kick leaves as I walk, and talk to birds that fly passed me. "Bords," I mutter under my breath as a flock flies over my head. I hear a snort behind me and turn to see someone with glasses similar to mine, and strawberry blonde hair. "Not typical behaviour for 17 year olds but carry on." He had an american accent. I was mesmerised, and he seemed to notice this, "I'm a transfer from Chicago, my 'rents moved here a couple months ago, but I'm just starting college now."
"I moved here last week." He smiled at this and hurried to walk the same pace as me. He was much shorter than me. "I'm Phil!"
"Patrick!" another voice yelled. It was an ever so slightly tanned boy, with brown hair that curls, and deep brown eyes surrounded in quite a bit of smudged eyeliner. He definitely slept in his makeup last night, and just reapplied this morning. "Big mood." He twirls to face me and sneers, "What?"
"Sorry, I was just-"
"This is Dan. He's angry. At everything, always. Don't take it personally," Patrick laughs, "want to walk with us?"
            We step into college laughing and wheezing, Dan had been talking about how useless giraffes were, and it was so surreal to see someone harbour so much rage for an animal they've never even seen. "I have English resit lessons first, what about you guys?" Patrick asks. "Love lessons," Dan rolls his eyes, the words laced with hatred, "yay." "Same!" I smile and follow him to the classroom. We stand outside the classroom door and he looks me up and down. I blush ever so slightly, feeling a bit too exposed for some reason. He nods to himself gently and then makes eye contact. "What are you taking?" "Soulmate Theory and Art," I declare, happy that I have a chance to show my enthusiasm, "what about yourself?" "Acting, and Art," he forces the words, seemingly biting his tongue, "why on Earth would you take Soulmate Theory? We're all literally forced to learn the basics once a week, why would you want to dedicate a years worth of college just to get a level 2 BTEC in something fake?" I ignore the fact that he just said soulmates were fake, and decide instead to question him on his logic, "You literally take acting," he smiles at this and we enter the classroom as the tutor greets us.
        "Good Morning everyone! We have a new student joining us today, would you like to like to introduce yourself?" The tutor had wavy blonde hair, and looking at her I.D, her name was Sharon. She seems very perky. "I'm Phil." Is all I manage to say before I notice Dan pulling stupid faces at me and I snort, breaking into laughter. Sharon looks at me in confusion and just lets me sit down. "Today we'll be touching on how much you need to know your soulmate before it counts when they leave," She says, writing a big question mark on the whiteboard, "and the answer is, to put it simply, not at all! They just need to enter your life, be it an accidental brush of the foot, they cough and it catches your attention, or even someone yells their name and you notice." "Sounds like this bullshit theory is grasping for straws. How many people actually find their soulmates after they've suposedly been crying for years?" I look up in shock at Dan's language towards a tutor. Sharon glares at him before answering, "It's not a large statistic, but sometimes people get lucky, and they witness someone crying at the same time as them multiple times, and then-" "Is there actual proof for this?" "Well, of course there's not lots, but we do know that people who never cry have reported crying just as their wife starts crying, and-" "This is such bullshit!" He yells, standing up and kicking his chair for dramatic effect. "As if you idiots teach a mandatory class on something you can't actually prove," the boy mutters before storming out.
       I sit down in my art class, still not fully over Dan's outburst from over an hour ago. He never returned to the classroom, and I didn't have much hope of seeing him in my art class either. "Phil?" The art tutor had sat himself next to me for some reason. My eyes flickered to his I.D, which said, "Mx Quinn" which confused me to an unknown extent. "I'm non-binary," they explained without missing a beat. They hand me a tissue and I take it slowly. I aimed to say, "What's this for?" but it came out in a sorrowful sob, and I realise with a shock that my soulmate must be crying somewhere. "I don't even know his name" I say sadly. Quinn's eyebrow raises but they seem to accept my queerness pretty quickly, not even questioning it. "When did you meet him?" "Steph says my social worker told her that I've been crying randomly since I was put into foster care, so it must have been pretty early on. And trust me when I say I've been in a lot of different foster homes, so I have no idea how to even begin tracking him down." "My soulmate is my wife, but she wasn't my wife until last year, so I wouldn't give up hope just yet" They pat my shoulder before turning and walking to their whiteboard. "Students!" They say with a clap. "Quinn!" A chorus of students clap in response.
     "Now that first term is over, and we've finished our Christmas break, I've decided to actually assign you work, instead of letting your imaginations run free. But don't worry, I won't be telling you what to draw, just hopefully giving you some inspiring prompts." The door swings open and Dan walks in, looking angry as per usual. He sits down next to me. "Today’s prompt, is Beauty, take it as you wish." Quinn claps once more and everyone begins moving. I take out my sketch book and my pencil, and start drawing a circle. I cover the remainder of the page in easy-to-remove sellotape, and then get my water paints out. Dark navys mix with  deep purples, and they both mix with magentas, and then are left to dry. Whilst waiting for it to dry, I remove the tape, and then look over at Dan's page. He's using white chalk on black paper. He's drawn the lines of multiple people, with one person in particular being coloured in white, whilst the rest are left uncoloured. This person is now being shaded around, to give them the appearance of glowing. "Is that your soulmate?" "No, they're even better" "Why?" "Because they exist" I raise my eyebrows at him, but don't question it. "Who is it?" "Does it matter?" "No, but-" "Then drop it."
         At the end of the class I have fully painted a little circle of galaxy, that's surrounded by vines and flowers and various other plants. "Plants killing the universe? Irony is beauty to you?" Quinn was stood over my desk "Nope," I smile, "I just really like plants and space!" "Stop," Dan chimes in, "we get it, you're a soft person." He sounds angry but he's smiling as he says it. I pack up my bags and leave the classroom. Why is he so angry all the time? I think about what could be upsetting him when Patrick grabs my arm. "Soulmate Thoery right?" I nod and we begin walking to class together.
                                                          ~*~
"Phil, stop crying, please" Kat begs, "David will be home soon. You mustn't be crying so much on your first day here." I sob in response. I'm not even sad. I don't know why I'm crying so much. "You don't want to end up back in the orphanage do you?" "I'm not sad," I plead, tears still streaming down my face, "I'm very happy I'm here!" "Then stop crying before David arrives." The front door swings open just as she says this, and a tall, dark eyed man enters the room. "Why does he cry?" He has a Russian accent. "Why does the small one cry? What happens to 9 year old that make them cry so much?" He seems to be getting angrier and angrier. "Phil please stop" Kat begs me. David raises his hand and yells, "Why do you cry?" "I don't know sir" "Bullshit!" He bellows, his hand coming down rapidly. I don't stop crying for a week. They send me back to the orphanage after two days. The crying doesn't stop. I go about my life, eating, playing games, reading, but for a week straight, my body is wracked with sobs.                                                               
                                                          ~*~
             I was 4 years old when I found myself in my first foster home. They kept me for two weeks, and then I was moved to a different home, because the mum was getting sad, or somet, and she could only handle one child, so naturally she kept her own, and not the foster kid. According to my social worker, I've been crying randomly ever since leaving the orphanage in that town. So that's the first place I decide to check. Soulmate Theory is a class dedicated to finding logic in soulmates, and the only reason I decided to take it is because it will provide resources for me to locate my own soulmate. "So, what do you think she will look like?" Patrick asks, hyped for me, as he already found his soulmate, sadly it was after he had moved to the UK, and Pete was still in Chicago. "Well, I hope he has curly hair, because curls are the cutest, and maybe he'll have glasses like me? I want him to have darker eyes than me, so maybe green," I pause for a second in thought, "Brown would be nice too" "tanned?" "kind of? I don't expect them to always be tanned but it'll be nice to have someone who can tan, unlike me." "what colour hair" "I'm naturally ginger, so not ginger or black, maybe blonde, or brown" "brown eyes, brown curly hair, can tan?" "Yeh?" "You mean, Dan Howell?" I choke and look away from my computer screen, eyes wide and aimed directly at Patrick. "No"
         I open a new tab and search for the orphanage I was sent to after my first foster home. I type in the year I was sent there. Patrick notices the town's name and asks if I'm for real. "Yes, why?" "That's Dan's home town," He winks, "Maybe he is your soulmate" "Dan could be my soulmate? Should I tell him?" "No, he doesn't believe in soulmates." "That's good, because I don't think I could spend the rest of my life with someone so negative." Patrick snorts and continues tapping away on his phone. I write down a list of people that were in the orphanage at the same time as me, and make a checklist. I'll message a different one every time I cry. I start stalking each of them online. Stephen, Karla, Bridge, Lucy- Bridge? "Trick, is Bridge a boy or a girl name?" "It's architecture" "It's someone on the list" "Just message them and see." Tears begin falling down my face. "Hey I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry-" "This isn't me!" I smile widely and message someone called Chris, I read the message out loud as I type it, "Hey, I have reason to believe that you're my soulmate, are you crying right now?" They mustn't have any privacy settings on, because the response I receive is immediate, "nope, I'm not crying, and I got my soulmate pregnant last month, so unless this is Keighleigh messing with me, you're not my soulmate," I read it out to Patrick. "Who spells Kaylee like that?" "I know, it's supposed to be K a y l e i g h" "Incorrect" "We'll ask Dan on the walk home?" "Absolutely."
          I message four other people, but none of them are my soulmate. I finally stop crying around ten minutes before the tutor dismisses us, and I feel strange. This time it didn't feel full of emotion. It felt empty. "Hi nerds" "You look like a mess," Patrick chirps. And he's right. Dan's face is paler than usual, and his hair is messy. "No duh, I just did the final scene of the drama I've been writing, the scene where my dog dies and I scream and cry in the rain. Someone's been dumping water on me as I've forced tears, I'm obviously not gonna be looking glamorous." "You've been crying? That's so weird, because-" I glare at Patrick and he stops talking. "Phil's soulmate search hasn't been going too well" "That's cause she doesn't exist." "He," Patrick corrects him, and Dan's eyes widen a little bit. We start walking home and me and Patrick exchange worried glances at each other. "Dan, you never talk about your childhood" "What's there to talk about? My mum's gone, as is my dad, and I've been living on my own since I was 15" "What happened to your parents?" "Phil," Patrick warned me, clearly Dan doesn't talk about this very often. I apologise and we carry on walking. Patrick turns a corner and waves goodbye. Steph apparently lives pretty close to Dan. "Come over?" Dan asks. I smile and nod, maybe a little too eagerly.
                                                               ~*~
         "He's been crying since he was 4 years old, are you prepared to take on this child who has in fact lost contact with their, seemingly very emotional, soulmate?" "Of course. He needs stability. I've always been a fan of stability." I start crying. "Sweetie, I know you don't believe me, but-" "It's not me," I sniffle. She wraps her arms around me in a hug. "He needs someone who has dealt with soulmates." "As you wish. Although, He's 15, and met his soulmate over 10 years ago, so instead of helping him find her, I suggest you book him into a support group for lost soulmates" "I'll do as I please with my child." "Foster child" "Only for a few months. And then he's my child" "Whatever. Sign here." "Go and adventure, Philip, your room is top left." I hear muffled conversation as I close the front door. I finally have a forever home. Someone finally wants me. I could cry, but as per usual, I don't. I never cry. My soulmate cries enough without my tears adding to it. I've been bottling it up for years now. Instead, I smile. I wipe my mirroring tears and try desperately to let him know I care about him. But soulmates don't work like that.
                                                             ~*~
        "You live here?" My jaw drops, "It's awesome!" "My aunt's gave it to me when I was little. I didn't need to use it until a couple of years ago though." "why not?" "Because soulmates aren't real" He says with a shrug. "Who did you draw today?" "You" I splutter, "Me? Why?" "Isn't it obvious? You're beautiful Phil" "But- I mean, thank you- but you don't- soulmates- and-" "Just because love isn't real doesn't mean beauty isn't" My mouth forms an 'O' and that's all I manage to respond. "Why don't you like soulmates?" "Because they ruin people's lives" "Elaborate?" "When I was little, my mum would never shut up about soulmates, she would even tell the little kids we'd foster occasionally" I shot him a quizzical look,  "My mum was bipolar, so she'd foster whilst my dad was at work, and they'd get sent back as soon as my dad would come home. She obsessed over it ever since we tried to foster someone when I was little and my dad had decided it wasn't best for mum's health. Anyways, my mum was obsessed with soulmates. It's all she'd ever talk about, it's all she'd ever research, for days on end. But she killed herself when I was nine. And dad didn't get that warm feeling my mum always spoke about when you lost your soulmate. He didn't love her once he found out that they weren't soulmates. He didn't love me once he realised I was a mistake "He started hitting me, ranting about how he wasted his life with the wrong person. But he had loved her when she was alive, so clearly his love was false, because of the bullshit soulmate theory. My dad killed himself when I was 14, and I spent around 6 months in foster care before my Aunt Stephy contacted me and reminded me of the house she bought me when I was 4. So many people waste their lives looking for soulmates and 'true love' that they don't even look twice at anyone until they're crying. It's fucked up. And plus, I've never cried without meaning it. Ever. Everyone my age has met their soulmate by now. So what? Mine just doesn't exist? Mine doesn't have emotions?" He laughs pitifully.
            "Or maybe they just love you enough to hold back their tears." "What kind of bullshit excuse is that?" "Love isn't just somet you see on TV, Dan" "Yes it is," He yells, suddenly stood up and bearing his teeth, "Soulmates aren't real, relationships aren't real, none of it is fucking real!" "Dan-" "Get out of my house" "Dan, no, please just-" "I said get the fuck out!" "But," I whisper softly. "But what?" "I think you're my soulmate" And for the first time in over 13 years, I start crying, because of my emotions. As I look up, so is Dan. His face is of pure shock, and he doesn't seem to be properly crying, his tears are instead mirroring mine. My hand in my pocket squeezes Thomas ever so slightly. "What's in your pocket?" He tries to say, choking on my sobs, wiping his eyes furiously. I pull the stuffed fox out of my pocket and this time it's Dan's jaw that Drops. "It was you?" "Wait- you were-" "I knew I remembered those eyes" "Wait" "Philip!" "Daniel?" He launches himself at me and captures my lips in a kiss.
        Dan doesn't get over his fears of soulmates immediately. But he starts paying attention in Love Lessons, he starts asking more serious questions, he runs to me whenever he starts second guessing himself, he paints me in art, and most importantly, he doesn't cry as much anymore. I love Dan, I always have, and although he may not ever love me 100%, I know he'll always be with me.
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mayacatmaster · 6 years
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After a hard day at the office, all Solar wants to do is put his feet up and listen to somebody “tell”(teach; preach) him what to think and how to kiss any kind of dark-tyrant-ruler’s-ass.
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No matter of use what kind of name…. God/holy books/religion/morality/education/country-social-family-belief-system.
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And…:
Me driving home from work knowing I‘m only going home to eat and sleep so I
can do it all again tomorrow
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microcosm-motherboard Vs. macrocosm-cityscape
That moment you realize You're just a piece of data carrying information as you move through a circuit system that has been designed to siphon your spiritual energy.
*** *** ***
And if you living in the Republic of Dog …:
And because your mindset, you already….:
You've become so service-oriented to others, that you don't take the time to care about your own comfort & satisfaction & well being.  You've got to tap into the awareness of SELF, and how important that SELF that is you is.  You have to be selfish enough to go where the good-feelings are, if it's a nap, if it's the beach, if it's this friend instead of this friend. You have to pamper yourself into alignment, and before you know it, the momentum of self-love will  crescendo to a place, that one idea after another will explode in your mind, as the entire Universe will revel in your ability to be at the right place at the right  time."  Abraham-Hicks
*** *** ***
Otherwise…:
Connection doesn’t care about the laws of the land.  Your soul will be pulled to the place it belongs.  *** *** *** The Greatness Of A Nation & Its Morale Progress Can Be Judged By  The Way their children/woman/people Are Treated. Children/woman/people not slave: not tools; not slaughtered sheep and horses or obedient robot.  *** *** *** A Nation/Social/school/Home/Religion-Moral-Group Of Sheep  Will Soon Have A  Government Of  “wolves”(dark-tyrant-ruler). ~Edward R. Murrow  *** *** *** Especially when…: Nation of sheep.  Ruled By Wolves & Tiger.  Owned By pigs. And I follow orders like a dog. It's what made me a "man"(woman; children). *** *** *** 【Ruler】: Between th frown of the tiger and smile of the wolf the flock is perished; the ruler claims himself as kind of the law, and the priest as the representative of “God”(religion-morality-belief-system), and between these two, the bodies are destroyed and souls wither into nothing. ~Gibran *** *** *** And their moral/religion/holy books/saints/country-social-family-belief-system coding by “wolves”(dark-tyrant-ruler), server for “wolves”(dark-tyrant-ruler), don’t service for people can alignment with Source and as an alignment-deliberate-creator. *** *** *** Mindset.  It's all about mindset.  From the moment you wake up, to the moment you rest your head at night. Everything is up to you.  Your emotions, your thoughts, your perceptions, your reactions.  Every moment.  *** *** *** The Matrix Is Real It Exists Inside The Minds Of The Masses Through Social Cultural Political, Educational & Religious/morality-belief-system Indoctrination *** *** *** My dear Facebook friend, are you living in Republic of Dog or Republic of Cat??? *** *** *** In Republic of Dog …: those Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards-Law. They caught all the wild children, and put them in man-made-law-zoos,  They made them do sums and wear kiss-ass shoes.  *** *** *** No matter of in a country, in a home, in a personal-belief-system. They made them kiss dark-tyrant-ruler’s-ass behave and please those ruler.  Those wild children, wisdom and wildness away.  That's why there are none in the In Republic of Dog can living their life just like cat today.  *** *** *** So…: There is a grain of Gold-sand in one’s eye, Look at everything, turning upside down. *** *** *** It is same If…: There is a grain of Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards-Law-sand in one’s heart-eye, Look at everything, Contrary to alignment with their Source and as an alignment-deliberate-creator, just run in the opposite direction. *** *** *** Those wild children, wisdom and wildness away, …: So can not living their life just like cat today.  Can not feel free to be themselves,  Can not feel free to be natural, to be free, They just can be forced by those Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards-Law, And pull and push and manipulate by those dark-tyrant-ruler. *** *** *** No matter of in a country, in a home, in a personal-belief-system. No matter of in a religion/moral/country-social-education-family-belief-system. *** *** *** Mindset.  It's all about mindset.  From the moment you wake up, to the moment you rest your head at night. Everything is up to you.  Your emotions, your thoughts, your perceptions, your reactions.  Every moment.  *** *** *** And…: The ideas of pain-all pain: mental pain, spiritual pain, emotional pain, physical pain-all forms of what you call pain are the result of resistance of Your Natural Self. Pain is friction, to put it on a simple terminology.  Resisting the Natural Flow of Yourself as an aspect of the Infinite.  ~channeled by Darryl Anka [Pain]  And usually this resistance occurs when, having been brought up in the society you have been brought up in, you have been fed, and bought into, definitions of limitation. So that in trying to live out these definitions that are not necessary representative of Who You really Are, you are going against Your Grain... And going against the Grain gives you splinters. ~Bashar *** *** *** So…: If minorities prefer Republic of Dog those Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards-Law, then we advise them to go to those Republic of Dog places where that's the kiss-ass-law.  Republic of Cat does not need minorities.  Minorities need Republic of Cat, and we will not grant them special privileges, or try to change “our laws”(those can alignment with Source and as an alignment-deliberate-creator) to fit their desires, no matter how loud they yell 'discrimination" —Maya Cat *** *** *** In our Republic of Cat….: To be liberated, woman must feel free to be herself ,  not in rivalry to man but in the context of her own capacity and her personality  - Indira Gandhi *** *** *** So…In our Republic of Cat….: To be liberated, woman must feel free to be herself ,  not according to those Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards to living through their whole life. *** *** *** So…In our Republic of Cat….: It's OK to pretend we're Irish on St. Patrick's Day. We pretend we re GOOD on Christmas don't we? *** *** *** But…In Republic of Dog….: Those Who Do Not Think Outside The Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards Are Easily Contained. *** *** *** And…In Republic of Dog….: Those only teach/preach/indoctrinate children/woman/people kiss ass by blind obey are such hypocrites.  *** *** *** They pretend to have morals-religion-rules-box-standards, feelings and a conscience but they possess none of these.  *** *** *** Because they are not, ….: Help children/woman/people to be natural, help children/people to be free, help children/woman/people to be themselves, and never try to force anybody, pull and push and manipulate.  *** *** *** Because they are not, ….: Help children/woman/people can alignment with their “Source”(True Self; Tao) and as alignment-deliberate-creator. *** *** *** They will lie, insult, cheat, abuse and disrespect you, but in return they will expect fidelity, respect and all your time and energy spent on them.  *** *** *** They can do whatever they want, whenever they want, but you are to remain loyal children/woman/people and perfect children/woman/people according to their morals-religion-rules-box-standards at all times.  *** *** *** This isn't healthy; it's toxic and definitely not love  *** *** *** So…In Republic of Dog….: If I make a fool of myself, who cares? I'm not frightened by anyone's perception of me. ~Angelina Jolie *** *** *** In Republic of Dog….: The world is going to judge you no matter what you do, so live your life the way you want to. *** *** *** ,, To be free of all authority, of your own and that of another is to die to everything of yesterday, so that your mind is always fresh, always young, innocent, full of vigor and passion. It is only in that state that one learns and observes.... " *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Via and thanks “Iwona Antolak”: *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Otherwise…In Republic of Dog….: I am asking you Kiss my ass to prove your worthiness, I offer you my opinions that you should be kiss my ass, just because use the name tag of ...: *** *** ***  And kiss my ass it’s your inevitable fate, duty and the obligation born as a mankind. *** *** ***  And you must take this dog’s chain as a kind of naturally, take this dog’s chain for granted and said it’s the golden rule of the world! 並且把那條狗鍊子視之為理所當然、天經地義的金科玉律! *** *** *** And if you want to know About Chiang Kai-shek, Mao Zedong, the Emperor of Japan, North Korea's leader, Adolf Hitler, Stalin, Fascism where they come from??? Well, they all come from Republic of Dog, if you know. *** *** *** @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ Get a notebook, call it "My Life Story", and you begin writing Chapter 1: "My Life Story Relative to “Abundance”(freedom; health; peace-joy-well being; Youth-health-beauty-vitality).." And you just fabricate a fabulous fairy tale that is pleasing to you, and you say : "This is the new me!" ~AH @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ “Student”(solar): “My...Master, why the Blind-Obey-dog007 escape from Republic of Dog come to our home?”; *** *** *** "Master"(Mr. Bean):“Well, maybe you need direct ask him? “ *** *** *** “Student”(solar): “My dear Blind-Obey-dog007 may I ask why you escape from Republic of Dog, ...why?”; *** *** *** Blind-Obey-dog007: “Well, my dear solar, because….:  I don’t want kill another.  I don’t want steal another home.  I don’t want set fire another home .  I don’t want bomb another home.  I don’t want lie or cheat another home.  I don’t want invade another home.  …: *** *** *** “Student”(solar): “ Such behavior is so well being, so health, so good deed, so nice virtue, why you need escape from Republic of Dog, ...why?”; *** *** *** Blind-Obey-dog007: “Because disobeyed the Republic of Dog orders, so I must be die, be killed by the law of Republic of Dog, if I want to live, I must escape from Republic of Dog.” *** *** *** “Student”(solar): “ Well, what you said freak my mind , How weird it is if one humankind….  don’t want kill, don’t want steal, don’t want set fire, don’t want bomb, don’t want lie or cheat, don’t want invade another… then he must be die, ...why?”; *** *** *** Blind-Obey-dog007: “Because the ruler in our Republic of Dog said: “We”(dog) are good and “they”(cat) are bad, always!  *** *** *** So, they must be kiss our dog-ass, by blind-obey, blind-follow. *** *** *** Otherwise…: There can be no peace until they renounce their Cat-God and accept our Dog-God. *** *** *** There can be no peace until they renounce their Cat-man-made-moral-religion-belief-system and accept our Dog-man-made-moral-religion-belief-system. *** *** *** And in our Republic of Dog: Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. ~Qscar Wilde *** *** *** So if I want be a Survivor, I must be escape from Republic of Dog.” *** *** *** @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ The greatest gift you can give yourself is freedom from what others think. -ABRAHAM *** *** *** The only reason that someone seeks acknowledgment approval from Someone outside of True self, is because they are not feeling it from within and they  have a "void" that they are trying to fill.  If the way you feel hinges upon anything outside of you - you're in trouble!  But if the way you feel depends only upon your connection With your  own Inner Being - over which you have absolute control - then everything in  your experience falls into adjustment. ~Abråham-Hicks  *** *** *** So…: There's no rule that says I have to live life Like everyone else. *** *** *** We do not encourage anyone to move toward anything that feels uncomfortable. If you cannot find a way to feel ease as you are beginning your investigation of anything,  we do not encourage proceeding. The emotions that you feel are your guidance indicating your Energy alignment. Proceeding in any direction that feels uncomfortable means there is contradiction in your own Energy field and that is not good for you. There is never only one path to your truth. If one path feels wrong to you, choose another. No pursuit of any knowledge is worth your own Energy misalignment. ~ Abraham-Hicks ~ *** *** *** And…: I am so wild, sexy and crazy just like blowing wind, no form, no name, ...can not contain in any man-made-laws. *** *** *** And …: You don't really know someone until you say "NO" to them. ~Andy Garcia  *** *** *** Because…: Those Who Do Not Think Outside The Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards Are Easily Contained. *** *** *** And If…: There is a grain of Gold-sand in one’s eye, Look at everything, turning upside down. *** *** *** So it same ...If…: There is a grain of Kiss-Ass-morals-religion-rules-box-standards-Law-sand in one’s heart-eye, Look at everything, Contrary to alignment with their Source and as an alignment-deliberate-creator, just run in the opposite direction. *** *** *** And if …: You Are Still Attached To Your Religion, Your Color, Or The Country You Were Born In, Then You Still Don't Know Who And What You Truly Are.  *** *** *** If You Believe Everything You're Told Without Question  You Are Successfully Brainwashed. *** *** *** Now…: Busy fixing shit I thought was normal behavior as a child.  Now that I'm older, I've realized it was toxic af. Now I have to reprogram my brain so I don't continue that toxic cycle.  *** *** *** So….: Rule number 1:  Fuck what they think.  *** *** *** Follow the force that is guiding the whole universe is in you.  Pledge allegiance to your "Source"(God; True Self; Tao; Logos),  everything is done! ~Huangdi Yinfujing 「觀天之道,執天之行,盡矣!」: 黃帝陰符經; *** *** *** You are never along or helpless. The force that is guiding the whole universe is in you too! *** *** *** Those who flow as "Life"(Tao; True Self; Source) flows know they need no other force. ~Lao tzu *** *** *** You have all the intelligence within you. TRUST, ALLOW and only listen to your own HEART! *** *** *** Use your own light and return to the Source of "Light"(Tao; True Self; Wisdom of Universal). This is called practicing eternity. ~Lao Tzu *** *** *** Always listen to your own heart, even if it is against what your family, society, culture of religion is telling you! *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Thanks for “ONEness” *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Because…: **It is up to you to accept those ideas that you choose to accept, and reject those that you do not.  * * You are not powerless before ideas.  * * Throw out ideas that do not suit you. ~@SethSpeaks1  *** *** ***  When shoes fit, forget foot;  when girdle fit, forget waist:  when methods fit, forget minds;  that shows the "Suitability"(alignment with "Source) of the heart (for the question). ~Zhuangzi *** *** *** Those in alignment Follow the order of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos), they Follow the way of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos), they Follow the timing of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos) and they Follow the design of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos).  They are calm; They are clear;  They are real. Having arrived at the "Root"(Tao;True Self;Brahman),  They are never confused by the branches. *** *** *** The "Source"(Tao; Maat;Logos) has always been same, in ancient and modern, in east and west, in any time-space. *** *** *** The rightness of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos) is "No Artificial-Rightness", but itself can be everyone's rightness. The order of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos) is "No Artificial-Order", but itself can be everyone's order. The law of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos) is "No Artificial-Law", but itself can be everyone's law. The goodness of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos) is "No Artificial-Goodness", but itself can be everyone's goodness. *** *** *** The goodness of "Source"(Tao;True Self;Logos),  can help you watching & witness your own 3D-life-movie, regard it as other people's 3D-life-movie,  can help you watching & witness your own self, regard it as other people's self, can help you get rid of painful, get sweet fruits, realized "True Self"(Tao;Brahman). *** *** ***  Too often~~~! People get caught up in how things "should be"(what parents, teachers, priests, kings, holy books said:"you should be~~~~!"),  and forget to live their lives,  and forget their "True Self"(Tao;God). *** *** *** Too often~~~! Everyone tells you what to do and what's good for you. They don't want you go find your own answers.  They want you to believe theirs. ~Socrates *** *** ***  But,~~~! If you live for people's acceptance, you will die from their rejection. *** *** ***  *Under construction*  Busy fixing shit I thought was normal behavior as a child. Now that I'm older, I've realized it was toxic af. Now i have to reprogram my brain so I don't continue that toxic cycle.  *** *** ***
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