#finished my dissertation about to hand it in a few days ahead of schedule

[starsreside]

uni: complete

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

cross my heart (pt. 4)

spencer reid x oc

‘to secure peace, is to prepare for war.’ 

karl von clausewitz

cross my heart masterlist

word count: 2836

Spencer decided he didn't want to just be a casual acquaintance any more. He had almost died on his most recent case, and while this was a more common occurrence, something about this time was different. And he decided not to waste any more time, and to stop being such a chicken.

He offered a small smile to Raye from across the cafe once he saw her. It was ten at night, which was fairly early for both of them to be there. She held up the book she was reading, making him grin as he saw it. She had finally agreed to give War And Peace a read, and was slowly making her way through it.

He could only pretend to read, his own thoughts distracting him. There was an open lecture that he knew she would be interested in, and had already reserved two seats. Now, he just had to build up the confidence to ask.

It took him an hour.

But eventually, Spencer had finished his book a hundred times over, and his coffee had gone cold. There was no more avoiding it. He stood, walking over to Raye’s table. Her tongue was sticking out of the side of her mouth as she focused on her book, and Spencer had to bite back a laugh when she jumped in surprise, “oh! You scared me!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. You were very engrossed,” he said with a fond smile. She smiled in return, “yeah, well, a book like this requires all my attention. I still have to google what half the words mean.”

He chuckled, before they fell into a kind of awkward silence. Spencer cleared his throat, before speaking again, “I was actually wondering... uh. There’s an open lecture on this weekend, it’s called ‘The Queen of English Literature Debate,’ Jane Austen versus Emily Bronte. The guest lecturer is flying in all the way from Scotland to travel around America, giving the lecture in different universities, and from the reviews I’ve read on it, it’s supposed to be amazing. Is that... something you would be interested in going to? Maybe with me?”

Raye blinked up at him, before her lips parted, as if she was going to say something, but then didn't. She repeated this a few times. Spencer was confused if he had rendered her speechless, or if she was having a stroke.

“Are you asking me out?” She eventually managed to choke out. He furrowed his eyebrows, before nodding, “yeah, I am. If thats okay.”

As if she finally realised what was happening, her eyes zoned in on hid face, and her expression softened at seeing his confused one, “I’m sorry, I just... it’s been a while. I don't go on a lot of dates. That sounds weird, I just mean that I don't get asked out a lot.”

His lips quirked up at her nervous rambling, before shaking his head, “I didn't think it sounded weird. I don't either. Go on a lot of dates, that is.”

She sighed softly in relief, before smiling softly, “so, Austen vs Bronte, huh? What do you think? Who’s the Queen?”

“I like to go into these sorts of debates with an unbiased opinion. I don't really favour one or the other, and I like to see if the lecturer can sway me. They usually can't, but its always fun,” he said with a chuckle, “it’s on Saturday, at Georgetown University. I could meet you here, say at three, and we can walk together?”

Raye smiled and nodded at the suggestion, “that sounds perfect.”

“Okay, perfect, great,” he said with a grin, “I will see you then.” His choice of words was not reflecting his intellect right now. He had a stupid grin on his face as he fumbled his way back to his table, collecting his things to leave and go home, and actually sleep for once. But the butterflies in his stomach thought otherwise, and he figured he it would be a struggle to fall asleep. Not that he was complaining.

–

“That was intense. Seriously, Spencer, that had me sweating!”

Spencer laughed as he walked alongside Raye as they left the lecture hall, “right? The professor was flawless with his criticisms. I don’t think I can decide who wins though, Bronte or Austen.”

“Hmm, me neither. I mean, I’ve always had a soft spot for Austen, but Bronte is just so damn good,” Raye said with a frown, “but in saying that, I wrote my college dissertation on Austen, so I guess the at already picks for me.”

“You wrote your dissertation on Jane Austen?” Spencer looked to her in surprise, as she grinned and nodded, “mhm. A cross analysis of Darcy and Elizabeth’s relationship, to the relationship of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It was genius, to be honest, an easy A. There was so much content, I could write for days on end and never run out of things to say.”

He laughed as she did, nodding in agreement, “that’s.... wow. I would love to read it, sometime.”

She glanced to him in surprise, nodding slowly with a blush, “I mean, it’s not brilliantly written. It didn’t get top marks or anything–“

“Hey,” he cut her off by taking her hands in his, looking down at her as her wide eyes looked up to him, “I bet it’s amazing. It sounds interesting, really.”

She bit her bottom lip, and tried to ignore the way Spencer’s eyes darted down to her mouth when she did, “okay. I’ll print off a copy of it for you sometime.”

“Great,” he said with a smile. He moved one of his hands away, but kept his other hand on hers. She blushed lightly, moving her hand to curl around his and hold it. He felt his heart leap at her returning the gesture, smiling softly at her, before looking down at his feet, “I had a good time today. I know we didn't exactly do a lot of talking for a first date, but...”

He didn't know what else to add, but he didn't have to, as she laughed, “don't be silly, I had fun. Besides, I already feel like I know you... is that weird to say?”

“No, not at all. I feel like I know you too. I suppose it’s from the books,” Spencer said as they left the lecture hall. He didn't know where they were walking to, but he wasn't about to complain. He didn't want the day to end. She furrowed her brow, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, from reading the books you enjoy, I feel like I know you,” he said with a shrug. Raye hummed, “oh yeah? Go ahead then. What am I like?”

He laughed slightly, looking ahead of them as he spoke, “you're a romantic; thats an obvious one. You love adventure, you love to escape through books. You hate horror, and anything scary, and you hate sad endings. You empathise with the bad guys. So, from all of this, I can tell that you’re sweet. You probably love animals, and definitely love children. You won't do something big unless you're pushed to, because as much as you love adventure, you only get it through reading. And you’ve... you’ve probably been hurt before, maybe by someone you care about or someone you know. Because you empathise with the villain, even when they're in the wrong. You’re considerate. And definitely a scardey-cat.”

Raye stayed silent as he profiled her through her book choices, and afterwards. Spencer immediately felt regret rise in him. He couldn't believe that he already screwed it up on the first date. He tried to apologise, “I-I didn't mean to-”

“I haven't been hurt by someone close to me, but I have been hurt, in a... in a strange way. But... I mean, I always try to see the best in people, no matter what. As difficult as that sometimes is,” she said. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb lightly, a look of curiosity on her face, “how did you figure all that out from the books I read?”

He relaxed at seeing that he didn't offend her, offering her a small smile, “I’m good at what I do.”

She was about to ask what he meant, before he let go of her hand to open the door for her. It was only then she realised they had managed to wander back to The Hideout. She smiled and went inside, going over to find a free table. It was busy, considering it was Saturday afternoon, and not the middle of the night.

He ordered two hot chocolates, figuring it was a safe bet, before going to the table to sit across from her, “I ordered two hot chocolates, I hope that’s okay.”

Raye smiled and nodded, “of course it is. I have a sweet tooth.”

“Me too. I always add an unhealthy amount of sugar to my coffee,” Spencer said, and she gasped, “me too! Tamara always scolds me, she says all my teeth will fall out. I also put a bunch of milk in it too. God, I don't know how people drink it without milk. It’s gross!”

“I completely agree!” He said, as they both laughed. He had the urge to talk her hand again. “I had a lot of fun today,” she hummed happily, resting her head in her hand as the hot chocolates were delivered to their table, “seriously. It was so much better than ‘dinner and a movie.’”

“Well, I didn't want to be stereotypical. And the first time I met you, you were literally buried in books, I figured this would be a good idea,” he said with a grin, as Raye scoffed and spluttered, “that wasn't my fault! Tamara loves to mess with me, but I’m too stubborn to give in. Hence my struggle with the bookshelf.”

Spencer laughed, and they continued to talk until they had finished their drinks. While he initially thought they were so similar, he was beginning to see that he wasn't entirely right. Yes, they had their similarities. But she was so much more than he expected. He found out she had a cat, called Dickens (she called him Dick, for short), and he was a ginger tabby cat. He found out she loved house plants, but struggled to keep them alive. Her favourite movie growing up was Peter Pan, and she had a bad habit of buying candles that she doesn't need.

Spencer never wanted the day to end. But sooner rather than later, the sun set on the drizzly November day, and the conversation seemed to come to a natural pause. Raye glanced outside, and cleared her throat she she saw it was dark, and used the moment of silence to say, “I should probably head home. My sleeping schedule... its a little backwards. I’m usually awake at night, and sleep during the day. Because of my work hours.”

Spencer didn't want to, but nodded, “oh, yeah, of course. I never asked, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m in accounting,” she said, smiling slightly. He could tell it was forced, “not my dream job, but hey, a job’s a job.”

“Oh. I could've sworn Tamara said you worked with the stock market, or something,” he frowned. She shrugged it off, “sometimes I do an odd job.”

“Okay. Well... I can walk you home. Which direction are you headed?” Spencer asked as he stood alongside Raye. She began to shake her head, lifting her bag and clutching it to her chest, “no, don't. I mean, I don't need you to do that.”

“No, I insist, really. It’s dark outside, and you never know,” he stressed, as Raye continued to shake her head, reiterated, “I’m telling you, I’ll be fine.” 

“I just want to make sure you get home safe,” Spencer insisted, feeling kind of defeated at her rejection. She didn't seem to notice his reaction, snapping, “I said no!”

They stared at each other for a minute, before Raye just looked away, stuffing her purse and phone into her bag. Spencer tried to ignore the hurt he felt, speaking softly as he put his hands in the pockets of his coat, “I-I’m sorry. I wasn't trying to... to go home with you, or anything, I swear-”

“No, I know,” Raye said, her tone now gentle. She sighed softly, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “I’m just pretty paranoid about my security, I guess. I live alone.”

He nodded slowly, reaching into his satchel and pulling out his badge, “I don't suppose this would ease your worries?”

She furrowed her brow, taking what he handed to her to see what it was. He couldn't ignore the way she seemed to become even more tense at seeing what it was, and the way her hands gripped the badge just a little bit tighter.

All she could say was, “I thought you were a doctor?”

“I-I am. I have three PHDs. None of them are medical, though. I’m with the Behaviour Analysis Unit,” he explained. Raye’s voice was small, “you're a profiler. That explains how you were able to figure me out through books.”

Something about her tone unsettled Spencer. He thought that she would feel safer, knowing that he worked in the FBI. So why was she more alarmed than before?

“I’m so sorry for getting angry,” Raye apologised, smiling guiltily as she handed him his badge back. She ignored the warmth she felt when their hands brushed. Spencer smiled at her, “it’s okay. I’m sorry for trying to force the matter. But you can imagine why.”

She nodded fervently, before growing some confidence and taking his hand in hers, “would you walk me home? I live about three blocks away.”

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, intertwining their fingers and nodding, as his cheeks began to glow. He stuck close by her side, as they walked down the streets of the city towards her apartment block. They came to a stop outside an old red brick building, but from the front door, Spencer could tell it must be renovated on the inside.

“Today was great,” Raye said tenderly, a warm smile on her face, “really. I had fun. If you’d like, we could do something like this again sometime.”

Spencer returned the smile, “I would love that. As long as you promise to have read War and Peace by then.”

She gawped and laughed, before groaning playfully, “oh come on, it’s just so boring. But for you, I will try. That’s all I can promise.”

“Good enough for me,” he chuckled, looking down at her as they stood face to face. She bit her bottom lip, before letting out a sigh.

“Are you going to kiss me, or am I going inside?” She quipped, as Spencer raised his brows. He smiled ever so slightly, moving to cup her cheek and lean down closer, “I will...”

Raye smiled softly, leaning into his hand as he moved closer so his lips were merely an inch away, “...once you finish the book.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved away, a triumphant smile on his face as she stammered, “you-! I just... that was cruel. Truly, and sincerely cruel. You will pay for that, Doctor, mark my words.”

“I will,” he laughed, lifting her hand that he held to kiss the back of her hand, “but until then, I bid you farewell.”

“Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again,” Raye said, taking a step backwards to walk to her building, as Spencer took a step back too, “Wilde?”

“Shakespeare,” she giggled, as they continued to walk their separate ways. Spencer made sure to stay within sight until he watched her walk through the door. She glanced back once she reached the door, smiling and waving goodbye to him, which he returned with a smile of his own. He was able to walk home with a peace of mind once he had seen her go into her building.

Raye scaled the stairs of her building with a stupid grin on her face, practically skipping up the stairs. It had been so long since her life had felt so normal. So long since she felt like she did right now; like a school girl crushing on a cute boy. She would do anything to make this feeling last forever. She should have known it wouldn't last.

She slowed as she approached her apartment, seeing the door open an inch, her cat sitting at the door.

And just like that, her good mood was completely gone, as she felt her heart stop, and her palms grow sweaty. She never forgot to lock her door. Ever.

She didn’t even bother to go inside, didn’t care to see if anything was missing or gone. She scooped up Dickens into her arms and ran back to the staircase, running all the way down while diling the number of the one person who could help.

–

cliff hangerrrrrr >:)

taglist: @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @fallinallinmendes @beyonces-breastmilk @spencerlikesapplejuice @pastathighs @gcblers @hushfakebitches @ijustcomeheretoread @thelovelyrose @187-reid @madison-malfoy @averyhotchner @haylaansmi

[abarbaricyalp]

The Babe With The Power

@pynchpromptweek

Pynch // Prompt: Future/Kid Fic // Rated: G

No archive warnings, but Adam bruises his face in the second half and the injury is discussed

AO3 Link

“We have to talk,” Ronan said, leaning on the door way to the living room.

Adam looked up at him, leaving his hands to the mercy of RG IV in front of him. The baby wasn’t actually called RG IV. Actually, the baby wasn’t a Richard at all. She was a Noa Percy and had stalled the great debate about whether Blue would allow Gansey to name their son RG IV. But they’d all spent so long calling Blue’s baby bump RG IV that the nickname stuck when they weren’t actually talking to the baby. (Names were important for cognitive growth, they were told, so don’t fuck her up with your joke)

RG IV gnawed at Adam’s knuckle and Ronan scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be baby sitting so much.”

Adam frowned and pulled the baby into his lap. “What do you mean? You volunteered us for the summer!”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be working on your dissertation and you have that grant proposal in a month. You should be focusing on that.”

“What? Do you want more time with her?” Adam asked. “I’m balancing everything just fine. I’m ahead of schedule on my dissertation and the proposal is being edited right now. If you want me to back off to give you time, just say, Ronan.”

“I don’t want more time with her. I already have to entertain her when you’re writing.”

Adam stood suddenly, a fast flash of anger. “You told them we’d take care of her. Get over yourself, Lynch,” he snapped, cuddling her closer to his chest.

Ronan’s jaw worked and Adam could see it all the way across the room. “She’s gonna forget what her dad looks like ‘cause she stares at you so much.”

Adam’s eyes widened and his arms tightened around her. “Did Gansey tell you to do this? Is he mad at me?”

Ronan made a face. “What? No. Gansey would probably be honored if she started to call you Daddy. He’d be like, ‘That’s fair, I get that.’”

Adam rolled his eyes and relaxed a little bit. “Then what the hell is your problem?”

“Watch your mouth, she’s literally right there.” Ronan shifted from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip in irritation and anxiety. “It’s distracting. And she takes up so much room. I mean, there are baby toys down our couch and you're always sleeping with her on your chest and that's just a safety concern to begin with. Her bottles are all over the drain tray and I almost put formula in the coffee this morning.”

Adam steeled his jaw and shoulders, glaring so hard Ronan felt it cut him to the quick. “If you want me to take a step back, I will. But I think you’re just throwing a fit. Here.” He crossed over to Ronan and held RG IV out. “You tell Gansey that you don’t want her around.”

Ronan took the baby, immediately cuddling her in the crook of his arm and letting her hold his other arm hostage to chew on his bracelets. “You gave her a bath the other day in the sink and you were baby talking her and I walked into a door.”

“I remember,” Adam said with a nod.

“And I don't even know which is worse--when you're talking her nonsense or when you're sitting there, asking her serious questions about whatever paper you're writing and nodding along seriously when she coos back at you.”

“I knew it!” Adam crowed. “You have baby fever! You’re not upset, you’re overwhelmed!”

Ronan glared at him. “I do not! I am not! It’s just that my boyfriend is always hugging on her and kissing her and you’re so good at it, I want to scream.”

“She’s our niece. I’m not gonna send her home just ‘cause you never learned how to process emotions.”

“You’re pursuing a doctorates! You should be living a distractionless life!”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re so distractionless.”

Ronan scowled at him for a second longer before sitting heavily on the couch. “I didn’t want kids. I wanted a family, wanted my family back. Kids felt like I was trying to replace them and I didn’t want to. And, y’know, bein’ gay and all. And I never thought I’d actually get to fall in love.”

Adam sat down next to him. For a moment, he just smoothed his thumb over the baby’s weirdly soft forehead. “I always thought I shouldn’t have kids,” he said eventually. “That I might end up too much like my dad. I figured he musta been in love at one point, he must’ve been halfway decent and it was just me who ruined everything for him, so I should avoid kids too.”

“Clearly you’d be a great father,” Ronan muttered.

“Yeah, I get that now. But I’ve grown a lot since then too. Who knows what might’ve been true if things in my life hadn’t happened the way that they did.”

“Adam, you’re a good man. You’re nothing like your father. You never would’ve been.”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, but that wouldn’t have been enough to convince me to have kids, probably. But now I have you and I see myself in such a different light, I’m a different person. And you’re right, Ro. I am good at this. I love it so much.” Like she was trying to prove his point, RG IV let go of Ronan’s bracelets to grab Adam’s hand and chew on his thumb again.

“It’s a big change. And I’m having to come to terms with a lot of things about myself that I didn’t know, or didn’t want to know,” Ronan said. They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the baby who was keen on watching them too. She had a big, gaping grin for them each time she caught their eye. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Ronan eventually said.

“It’s alright,” Adam murmured, leaning into his side. “I know you didn’t mean it. And we don’t have to make any kind of plans, Ro. I mean, this is literally the first time we’re talking about it. It’s not like we should be at an adoption agency tomorrow morning.”

“I could dream us a kid,” Ronan said immediately, like he was anticipating Adam’s response. “A little kid with your hair and my eyes and your freckles and--”

Adam pressed his hand over Ronan’s mouth. The baby watched intently. “You can’t dream them. I can’t lose you both in one moment.”

Ronan sagged under Adam’s hand and his eyes lowered before he nodded. “I won’t. I promise,” he murmured. He met Adam halfway in a kiss and the baby giggled between them.

Two days later, Ronan ran through the door, breathless and terrified. “Adam? Where are you? Are you okay?” he asked, rounding into the living room with a panicked look on his face. He saw RG IV first, asleep in some mini-bed on the couch, perfectly safe and happy. Then his eyes found Adam, and his face, and the already mottled bruise down half of it. “Oh my God,” he breathed, crashing to his knees in front of Adam.

“Please don’t wake her up. She was so freaked out, I thought she’d never go to sleep,” Adam groaned, leaning back in the couch and replacing an icepack on his face.

“What happened, Parrish?” Ronan asked, voice still tight with worry.

“I was chasing her around the house and I ran into the french doors on the other side of the kitchen. One was open and one was shut, but I was looking down at her and I didn’t see it.”

“Adam, you look like you got hit by a baseball bat. Move your hand, let me see.”

Adam sighed and sat up, obediently pulling the ice away. Ronan hissed in sympathy as his cold fingers probed at the bruise. “Did you clean these cuts?” he asked, tracing two fingers down either side of the gash that ran from the top of Adam’s forehead to his eyebrow and then picked up again at his cheekbone, a perfect visualization of the edge of the door.

“No, I didn’t have time. It was all I could do to get some paper towel on it to stop the bleeding,” he explained.

Ronan flicked his opposite temple. “I’ll go get the alcohol and some bandages,” he said. “How’s your head feel?”

“Hurts like hell,” Adam admitted.

“We should take you to an emergency clinic. You might have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion. Besides, I’ve lived without getting them diagnosed before.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to go get checked out.”

“We can’t take a baby to a med clinic in the middle of flu season.”

“Then she can go to her grandmother’s place.”

“You really got used to leaving kids with them, huh? Having withdrawals, Lynch?” Adam teased softly.

Ronan shoved Adam’s shoulder just as softly and got up to go to the medical cabinet. When he got back, Adam was rocking the mini-bed, hand pressed over the baby’s chest as she clung onto his index and pinky fingers.

“When I ran into the door, I knew I’d hurt myself pretty bad,” he said as Ronan sat himself next to him. “I was in pain, I couldn’t think, my vision had gone a little black, I was bleeding immediately. And she’d gone running off still and all I could think about was how badly she could’ve been hurt if she’d hit the door instead of me. I mean, she was running full speed. And she’s fast. It’s part of why I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t want her to run away from me and be able to hide.

“But I could only see her running into the door and how small and fragile she is. She noticed I wasn’t chasing her and she came toddling back and she crawled into my lap and I just...hugged her so tight. I was so scared.”

“Nothing happened to her, Adam,” Ronan said, setting aside the alcohol wipes and grabbing neosporin. “She’s totally fine. Look at that little face.”

Adam sighed and rubbed his hand against her chest and tummy. “She was so sweet about it. She pointed up at my face and pouted out her little lip. She really freaked out when I carried her in here and kept wincing and stuff.”

“Adam. Adam. Look at me. Look.” Ronan turned Adam’s face to his. “She’s okay. And you’re gonna be okay. This wasn’t a tragedy.”

“It could’ve been, Ro.”

“But it wasn’t. Hey, look. You did good, alright? You took care of her, got her down for a nap even.”

“It was already nap time. That’s why I was trying to wear her out.”

Ronan snorted out a laugh, which made Adam smile, a little begrudgingly. He finished bandaging Adam’s face and leaned over to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You did good.”

“There’s still so much we don’t know, Ro.”

Ronan shrugged. “Sure. We’re twenty five and haven’t dealt with a baby until her. We’ve got a learning curve. But, hey, at least we get to practice with the best baby ever.”

Adam smiled over at the baby and nodded. “She’s pretty cool.”

“Gonna be cooler for knowing us.”

Adam rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss Ronan again. “Well, not so much for knowing you.”

“Now I’m definitely gonna drag your ass to a med clinic.”

“I might let you. To set a good example for her.”

Ronan hummed and kissed him again. “One day you’re gonna do something for me and I’m gonna keel over.”

“Yeah, I’ve never done anything for you,” Adam agreed sarcastically. “You have a hard life.”

“It’s getting better.”

Adam stole another kiss. “The best is yet to come.”

“You’re a damn sap, Parrish,” Ronan murmured against his mouth.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com (1/?)

Author’s notes: So this was basically the first thing I started writing when I got back to Keanu fandom after Parabellum, but it remained sitting on my files because it still felt weird to write and share rpf. But after so many rewrites, I think I’m finally ready to do it. I’ll be posting new chapters every Monday and I’d love some feedback. The entire thing is set in 2013.

Wordcount: 2174

Warnings: none for this part

Part 2   Part 3  Part 4 Part 5

As Lilah stood outside the address given to her, she took a deep breath and asked herself for the third time what was she thinking when she let Isaac talk her into doing this. She had so much to do.

Sure, she had the morning off since her advisor was out of town for a conference, but Lilah still could have been prepping her Monday class or even reviewing her paper.

But Isaac knew her too well. He argued that it had been ages since she had taken a day to herself and as soon as the words movie set came out of his mouth, she dropped everything else and came running. The prospect of since the cinema magic working up close was too good to pass up.

So, she waited outside the set, waiting until Isaac finally showed up, dark curls sticking to his reddish face, probably from jogging through the building. He flashed the security staff a quick bright smile, before ushering Lilah inside, guiding the way through a maze of corridors, walking so fast Lilah barely had the time to take a proper look at everything.

“Thanks so much for doing this, Lih! You’re a lifesaver,” he commented over his shoulder. “One of our extras just didn’t show up today and we’re behind schedule already.”

“It’s fine,” she said as they stopped by a table where an agitated looking brunette sat with a clipboard and walkie-talkie. She checked Lilah’s ID, before collecting her contact information and telling Isaac to take her to the wardrobe department to change.

Before Lilah could even finish shoving her ID back in her pocket, Isaac was whisking her away.

“So, what kind of movie is this?” Lilah asked as she exchanged her street clothes for the costume, a beautiful red dress, and some killer heels. “It’s not a rom-com, is it? Izzy, I’ll kill you if you’re making me play extra in a rom-com.”

“It’s an action flick, relax,” he replied, and Lilah could actually hear the eye-roll in his tone. “I will never understand your hatred for rom-coms.”

“What’s to like about them?” she asked stepping out of the dressing room. “They sell women unrealistic, almost pathological expectations for love and romance, also…”

“Lih, this isn’t your dissertation. You don’t have to always take it so seriously.” Isaac said cutting her off as he led her to the hair and makeup chair.

“I mean, one can appreciate all the clichés without really thinking it’s gonna happen to them. I mean, how many couples do you know that started as two unlikely people that are perfect for each other having that first meet-cute then moving on to silently pinning over each other. Then having the classic love triangle that might lead to the epic conflict and break up so they can have a heartfelt reunion later, with the grand romantic gesture, the speech and finally their happy ending…”

And even though Isaac’s words pointed out the improbability of it, his dreamy tone told Lilah he still hoped it could happen to him someday.

Lilah rolled her eyes fondly because he was such a hopeless romantic.

She, on the other hand, prided herself on being pragmatic. She believed in love, of course. She wasn’t that jaded at twenty-nine; but to Lilah, love wasn’t something that just happened. You didn’t just stumble on the love of your life by accident someday.

“You look smoking, honey!” Isaac declared, snapping Lilah out of her thoughts. “Come on! Chad and David are already on set and ready to shoot.”

Lilah only had time to grab her bag before he was leading her once again through the maze of corridors to and ample room that looked a lot like a speakeasy, from the jazz band on the stage, to the smoky air, dim lighting and leather booths.

“Now all you have to do is sit still and look pretty.” He flashed her a teasing smile and ignored her eye-roll. “I’ll check on you during lunch break.”

Lilah waved her goodbye and watched as he moved to a pair of men standing by some monitors talking. They exchanged a few words, before Isaac disappeared again, probably off to run another task.

They filmed for around two hours straight. Lilah couldn’t see much of was going on because her table was facing the band and away from the area the camera seemed to be focused on and she couldn’t exactly turn to see, even if she really wanted to, but she managed to sneak a couple of glances whenever they called cut.

“Ok everybody, let’s take 15,” one of the directors announced.

Lilah stood up, stretching her back to work out the kinks of being sitting still for too long in an uncomfortable chair.

She took a few moments to search for Isaac, but he was nowhere around the main room and Lilah didn’t want to risk getting lost in the building. Instead, she picked a water bottle and a protein bar from craft service and looked for a quiet place to wait for filming to resume.

Lilah found a hidden corner in of the set, out of the way from most of the staff and quiet enough that she could pull out her book. She settled on one of the free chairs to read a little. Soon, she was absorbed by the text, shutting off everything else until a passage caught her attention, and Lilah couldn’t help but snort at it and offer a counterargument under her breath.

“Are you pro or against dualism?” Someone asked from just outside her line of vision, probably catching the cover of her book when Lilah held it closed while digging for a pen in her bag.

“Against obviously,” Lilah replied with a small snort as she looked up, her eyes going wide at the sight before her. Shock making her drop her pen and book, which he picked up.

“Really?” He asked with a curious frown. “Why?”

Lilah as she stared at him, she couldn’t get her throat to work.

He was so much taller than he looked on the screen, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. His dark hair was slicked back with gel, the tips touching his nape. He was spotting a well-trimmed beard, some fake bruises, and a black three-piece suit. Lilah didn’t think anyone could be this handsome, but she was obviously wrong.

“Where are my manners…” he said offering a hand. “Hi. I'm Keanu.”

The gestured kickstarted Lilah’s brain again and she shook his hand with a quick, embarrassed laugh.

“I’m sorry! Hi. Lilah,” she rushed to say. “I’m Lilah.”

“Nice to meet you, Lilah,” he said with a warm smile.

“So, you don’t believe in the mind…” he commented, handing her pen and book back and Lilah did her best to smooth the wrinkled edge.

“As an immaterial entity that exists apart from our bodies like Descartes proposed? Not really. I mean, let’s face it, he just gave it a pseudo-scientific look to the idea of a soul.”

Lilah looked up from her book, catching the way he was watching her with a smile.

“Sorry,” she huffed a breath with an embarrassed smile. Was she really babbling about dualism to Keanu Reeves?

“No, no,” he assured, taking a seat next to her. “Go ahead.”

“Uh… well,” she hesitated, glancing at him again. “I mean, it’s been what? A couple of thousand years? Probably more, but we still can figure out what the mind is.”

“I always thought of it as what makes us human. Theoretically, of course.”

“Ok but wouldn’t that be more like what it does than what it is?” she pointed out. “But let’s run with it, anyway. How does a mind make us human?”

“Well, for one, isn’t it supposed to give us a conscience, intelligence, all that…” Keanu trailed off with a hand gesture and Lilah smiled.

“But those brain functions. Are we saying the mind is the brain?” she couldn’t contain the way her smile widening even more. This was fun.

She loved talking philosophy, but Lilah rarely had the chance of doing it outside a classroom. And here she was actually talking dualism with fucking Neo!

“If it was the same thing, why would we need two concepts?” he inquired, brow furrowing in a small thoughtful frown.

“You just made my point for me,” Lilah said, and Keanu chuckled. “And it can’t be part of the brain either, because theories seem to agree that the mind isn’t material and our brains are very material.”

“Maybe there’s another dimension out there,” he offered with a shrug, leaning forward on his elbows which brought him closer to Lilah.

She bit her bottom lip to suppress the urge of making a Matrix joke.

“Ok, but then how is something that is immaterial influences our very material selves?”

Lilah watched as Keanu paused, considering her argument, that thoughtful frown returning, and Lilah took that time to admire him. If her teen self could see her now, she would probably have a heart attack. Keanu had been her movie crush for as far as she could remember, ever since she watched the Matrix for the first time.

And here he was, in the flesh, just talking to her. It was almost surreal. Was this a dream? Was she going to awake any minute in her bed?

“Alright, you got me,” he said with a smile, catching her attention. “I have no idea, but don’t you think there should be something there? Shouldn’t a man be more than just atoms and chemicals? Something more transcendental?”

“What? You’re a Kant man?”

The words were out of her mouth before she could contain herself. Her tongue slipping on the pronunciation, making it sound like a completely different thing and Keanu busted out laughing, turning bright red.

It took a second for Lilah to realize how it sounded, but when she did, she covered her face with her hands, mortified.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok,” he assured, still chuckling. “It’s fine. Really. I am not a Kantian, no but I can see the value in his transcendental man theory.”

Lilah tried to make her mouth work, to say something else but all she managed was an embarrassed chuckle. She could feel her cheeks burning.

“I’m so, so sorry…” she managed, voice coming out muffled. “I just��”

“Sometimes you forget to double-check what are you saying before putting it out there?” He asked with a soft smile and she nodded. “I do that all the time. Don’t worry.”

“Is there a way to fix that?” she asked, finally lowering her hands.

“I’ll let you know when I find it,” he replied with a little smile, before he ducked his head, letting out a small chuckle.

For a moment they just sat there, still chuckling together, cheeks red and awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze, until someone cleared their throat behind them and making both turn around to look.

Isaac stood there with his hand pressed to the earpiece he wore and a clipboard in hand. Lilah could see he was barely containing his smirk as he looked between her and Keanu and she winced, wondering how much he had heard.

“Sorry to interrupt. Keanu, Chad needs you.”

“Thank you,” Keanu said getting up and turning to look at Lilah. “It was very nice to meet you, Lilah.”

“You too,” she replied with a small smile, watching as he walked away before turning to look at Isaac with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you worked with Keanu Reeves?”

“I don’t work with him, I work around him,” Isaac pointed out with a frown. “Also, that was the nerdiest flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting.”

“Yeah, right!” Isaac snorted in disbelief. “Come on. Break’s over.”

Lilah followed Isaac back to the main area of the set and the same table from before. This time, she caught a glimpse of Keanu chatting with one of the directors. She thought his lips quirked into a smile when he saw her, but she was probably just imagining as she sat down again.

“Shit! I should have asked for an autograph. Or is that too weird?” Lilah asked Isaac.

She was doing so well, but that Kant thing threw her off and she went right back to that strange awkwardness she usually had around people she found attractive. Lilah really thought she had outgrown that.

“It’s not weird. Extras ask for autographs all the time,” Isaac said with a shrug. “And maybe while you at it, you can ask him out.”

“Haha.” Lilah rolled her eyes at the way Isaac wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Isaac, no! It’s Keanu Reeves. Are you nuts?”

“Fine,” he replied with a huff, but the glint of amusement in his eyes didn’t fade. “But you do know what that felt like right?”

Lilah frowned in confusion and he flashed her an excited grin.

“It felt straight out of a rom-com.”

­­­tbc

Go to part 2

Taglist (give me a shout if you want to added.)

@poisonedjoinery @ringa-starr @curly-minnie @i-cant-remember-my-old-login

@caryled @beyond-antares @kathorax @krazycags01 @meetmeinthematinee

@red-pill-blue-pill @baphometwolf666

[compareandcontrast872]

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[yeats-infection]

#2 for kindly philanthropist @floraldamerons... here is a remus/sirius AU based on the 1971 amchitka, alaska nuclear weapon tests, the 1964 anchorage earthquake (the second most powerful earthquake ever recorded), and more etc. etc. thank you to kayley for the inspiration, and i am sorry for butchering your prompt a little. 

--

The radio crackled. It was the boy again. “We’re coming for you,” he said. “Over.”

“We’re going ahead as planned,” Remus said. “You probably don’t want to be in the blast zone. Over.”

“You wouldn’t detonate it,” said the boy. He sounded, for the first time in their three-day CB acquaintance, a bit nervous. Their little boat was coming up through the inside passage probably from Seattle or some bougie Vancouver neighborhood like Kitsilano or South Cambie, and Remus had entertained the notion that the boy, and indeed no one else on the boat, had never been at sea for so long before. Anyway he went on: “You wouldn’t detonate it if you knew someone was close. Over.”

This in fact was true. Remus had studied closely what had happened with Albert Bigelow and Earle and Barbara Reynolds sailing ketches into Bikini Atoll. But all that was up to the Atomic Energy Commission, by whom Remus was not technically employed. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Anyway it isn’t me who makes that call. Over.”

“What exactly do you do? Over.”

Remus put the mouthpiece down and ran a hand through his hair and poured himself another finger of whiskey. But then the voice came again. “Come in, Amchitka. What exactly do you do? Over.”

“I’m a scientist.”

“For the AEC?”

“From the University of Alaska Fairbanks. I’m a biologist.”

“So you’re a traitor.” Remus shot back the whiskey and poured another finger. It was getting to be winter and already outside there wasn’t much light. It was just a kind of grimy, gummy film on the horizon, and something about it was illicit, like old neon. “You’re a traitor to whatever animals you study. And you’re a traitor to all your fellow Alaskans.”

For a while Remus’s hand hovered over the knob that would tune the radio to another channel. But he hesitated and in the hesitation —

“How dare you,” said the boy. “If the fault goes — ”

“Are you from Alaska, and were you here when it went then?” There was a thin, muted crackle on the line. “Come in, you fucker,” Remus said.

“I’m — no.” There was a long pause. Then, idiotically, the boy said, “Over.” Probably he had never used a CB radio either, Remus was thinking, somewhere in the razor-thin verge between exasperation and venomous anger. Drinking, especially as heavily as he had been drinking since he had come to Amchitka, had shortened his fuse substantially, not that it had ever been particularly long to begin with. “I’m from Victoria,” said the boy, though he’d said his transmission was over. “We felt it a little. Over.”

This was so pathetically idiotic that Remus got up out of the chair and went to his bedroll for the cigarettes. He thought about going outside to smoke one but it was frigid cold and his long underwear was still wet from crouching in the ocean to make measurements in the scant stretch of daylight. And anyway he was supposed to be manning the radio, because he was also supposed to receive a transmission, in a quarter hour’s time, from the head of his department in Fairbanks.

“Amchitka, do you read — ”

“I’m here,” Remus said. “I study subtidal organisms. Mostly sea urchins.”

“Whyever would you study them.”

Remus had stepped on one as a child on the coast in Cordova. The spines had been so deeply embedded in his foot that his parents had had to bring him to the doctor. Since then he had admired the creatures for their tenacity. But it would not do to tell the boy this over the CB radio.

“How old are you?” said the boy.

“Twenty-two. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

So he wasn’t really a boy. Even though it seemed wrong, by the tone of his voice, to refer to him as a man.

“You were in the earthquake then,” said the voice. “And you were — ”

“I was fourteen. I was from — well, it’s gone now. This town called Portage.”

He could remember sometimes in the oddest dreams running up the hill away from the wave toward the white eye of the sun or God stretched everpresent and unseeing through the dirty grey cotton clouds.

“Aren’t you afraid it might happen again?”

“It didn’t last time.”

“Well the bomb is five times stronger this time.”

As though Remus did not intimately know this. “It won’t happen,” he said.

“How can you be sure?”

Faith, he almost said. It won’t — it can’t. As though he had any kind of even apocryphal proof that God cared enough to prevent it from happening once more in his own lifetime.

“The fifteenth most powerful earthquake of all time happened right there,” the voce went on. “Right where you’re sitting. 8.7 magnitude on the Richter Scale, and an eleven-meter run-up on Shemya — ”

“Nobody died in that one,” Remus reminded him.

“So, it’s the same fault that runs toward Prince William Sound,” said the voice. “You never know, you know, how much it might — ”

“I know,” Remus reminded him, “I do know.” He poured himself another finger of whiskey and mulled over his last cigarette. The silence on the line was weighty and insistent as the sea. “I don’t fucking understand,” he said finally. “What do you want from me? I’m here to study sea urchins. They’re evacuating me tomorrow in advance of the test.”

“Can’t you — what about some clever sabotage?”

This was comically ridiculous. “I’m a fucking biologist,” Remus reminded him. “I saw them putting the warhead in the shaft and it looked like science fiction.”

It reminded me, he did not say, could not say, had been drinking toward now for a few years, it reminded me loudly and without recompense that I am altogether unsure if there is any place at all for me (Alaskan biology student, son of huntsmen and -women having wandered on the wild moors through the darkest of all nights and dead now seven years, survivor of the second largest earthquake in recorded history, inheritor of assorted colonial processes unconscionable) in this New Atomic World…

The radio fuzzed. “Lupin?” said a more familiar voice. “Come in, Lupin…”

It was his professor from Fairbanks. He hated the sensation of disappointment twisting with the whiskey in his gut. They spoke for a while about the sea urchins and assorted other measurements Remus had taken on the condition of the subtidal flora and fauna. His professor reminded him that he would be airlifted off Amchitka with the rest of the scientific staff early the following morning in advance of the detonation of the Cannikin warhead, which was scheduled for twenty-two-hundred hours. When his professor at last told him “Over and out,” Remus wandered through the tunings on the CB radio for another hour or so, steadily drinking, searching for the other voice in a kind of steadily constricting pressure, as though if he did not find this voice someone (perhaps himself) might die.

In the morning he woke at the desk with a hot railroad spike of a hangover steadily driving into his skull through his left eye, to the sound of the helicopter pilot knocking on his trailer door. He watched the test on the fuzzy TV that evening from his garrett room in Fairbanks. Trudged back to the lab on campus at midnight in the gathering snow to record into the official registers the necessary data from Amchitka. Slept there, most nights, for a long time. Understood distantly in the recesses of his very soul that one day he would have to go back there to take more measurements and that perhaps when he did something might be found, though who could say exactly what this was, and to whom such findings might bear significance.

--

Years later he was in Vancouver for a conference on echinoderms at UBC. After a panel on sand dollars’ exposure to radioactive material he found himself deep in conversation with an old mentor from Humboldt State University, with whom he had slept twice regrettably; he had a feeling it was heading for a perhaps even more regrettable third, and then, thankfully, they were approached by a hippie type who had tied back his long hair, which anyway he looked too old for, who introduced himself with a too-firm clammy handshake, and who said his name was Sirius Black.

“Dearborn,” said the Humboldt State professor manfully. “And this is Lupin, from Fairbanks.”

“I enjoyed the panel,” said Sirius Black, and thence came the voice. Time and space shifted under Remus’s feet with the percussive, violent gravity of the Pacific Plate on March 27, 1964.

They walked out together down University Boulevard away from the campus toward the forest and the beach. “It’s depressing really,” said Sirius Black. “I gave up all my idealism and became a scientist.”

“A scientist of what?”

“Physics. Reactivity. First it was sort of like a know your enemy thing.”

“And then what was it?”

“I don’t know,” said Sirius Black. “Something different. Have you got a cigarette?” Remus had only one left and they walked sharing it down the long path above the beach. “Anyway I’m here at the university. I saw the topic of the panel and figured it was worth a shot.”

It was almost aggressively not, I’ve thought of you.

“Besides it was sort of related. I’m interested in how other sorts of living beings process radiation poisoning. In fact, it’s — well my advisor was telling me it should be my dissertation. But I haven’t taken biology since grade school.”

“I’ll write something with you,” Remus said without thinking.

“Will you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve just finished a paper. I was going to take some time to just — but I don’t even know what I’ll do.”

“Sail around the world,” said Sirius.

“What? No…”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how to sail.”

“That’s a bullshit reason. That’s no reason at all. Can’t you learn?”

He laughed. He didn’t make a habit of doing this very often and it tasted in the back of his throat like sun or like the chorus of voices at the end of the Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” “I don’t know,” he said.

“If I were you I wouldn’t be afraid of anything anymore. You survived a 9.2-magnitude earthquake, and you watched the AEC prepare and execute three nuclear warhead tests.”

“I was drunk for most of the latter,” Remus admitted.

“I couldn’t tell. On the radio.”

“I’m shocked by that. I never — I mean I don’t talk to people like that, not usually. Probably it was just, it was only your voice. Not your face. It didn’t feel quite real. And the sun was only out like three hours a day. And I was drinking really quite a lot. Too much.”

“Have you stopped now?”

Remus had tried about twenty times. “It’s harder than it seems,” he said.

They walked to the quiet residential neighborhood of doctoral candidate housing in which Sirius lived in a surprisingly well-maintained bungalow in the perpetual shade of ancient pines. The walls of his suite were hung with psychedelic posters from Summer of Love concerts and tours gone by and one of them was signed by Jerry Garcia. To wit, Sirius put Patti Smith’s “Land” on the stereo. He offered Remus a gin and tonic, which he made with too much lime squeezed directly into the fingerprinted jam jars in a strong fist. Remus was watching out the window at the trees moving in the breeze and the distant sea, visible here as a strip of silver like a dropped chain.

Eventually, three or four drinks and two more Patti Smith albums deep, they found there was nothing left to talk about and nothing left to do but the obvious. Sirius kissed with far too many teeth, like perhaps more teeth than humans should even have, and he was extraordinarily talkative in a way that shouldn’t’ve been surprising. Remus had walked out on lovers for less and yet bore it silently until he couldn’t take it silently anymore. Sirius bit the join of his neck and shoulder so he elbowed Sirius in the gut. They wrestled for a while in attempt to delineate dominance practically and then they lay on the lumpy duvet gasping for breath and at last attempted it again.

Sometime in the middle of the night Sirius woke him coming back to bed from turning off the record player, which had been shuffling back and forth against the playout groove. The moon was coming through the Venetian blinds onto the sheets in stripes of bright paint. “Will you go back there,” Sirius said, kneeling in the bed.

Remus yawned. “Where?”

“To Amchitka.”

“I have to. Measurements.”

“Do you have any idea what — ”

“No — God. I’m terrified to see. Actually mostly terrified maybe you were right all those years ago.”

“About what?”

“Being a traitor.”

“Well you wouldn’t be alone.”

Remus sighed. He was sore and his head hurt from drinking. “I guess not,” he said.

They smoked a joint together, sitting in the bed, and watched the dawn. When the sky had filled with grey Sirius kissed him very tenderly as though trying to draw very old words from his mouth. At noon he drove Remus to the airport. On the plane back to Fairbanks Remus fell asleep and dreamed for the thousandth time about running up the hill toward the sun. Upon arrival back at the university he found his advisor scheduling the department’s return to Amchitka.

[adventuresaroundasia]

After two years of working as a college counselor in Beijing (and over five years of living in China), I’m finally moving on. That’s right, my job is finished, and soon I’ll be leaving my cozy Beijing apartment for bigger and better things.

I know, I can’t believe it either. I never thought this day would come, and now it’s almost here. I know quitting my job and leaving China is a huge deal, not just for me but for this site as well. But it had to happen someday, and that day is… six weeks from now.

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Let Me Fill You In

Leaving my job in China is obviously bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m super excited to finally be able to travel as long as I want and work for myself without having to worry about round-trip tickets and vacation days. On the other hand, China has become my home, and I know many of you are a bit upset that I won’t be living here anymore.

Who wants another bland, professional travel blogger who hops nomadically from country to country, living in cheap digital nomad hotspots like Chiang Mai and Bali. We have enough of those, thank you very much.

So today I thought I’d talk a bit about all of the huge changes going on in my life to give you all a little insight into where this site is headed.

Why did I quit my job? What’s next for me? Will I still be writing about China? Where am I going? How am I going to survive without a full-time salary?

Well, read along folks, because this one will answer all your questions!

My first few weeks as a college counselor in China!

Why I Quit My Job in China

Well, first things first, I didn’t actually quit my job in China. My two-year contract as a college counselor expired and I personally chose not to renew it, much to the disappointment of my boss and coworkers. While working as a college counselor was an incredible experience (and a great way to pay off all of my student loans!!), it just isn’t my dream job.

I’ll be honest, working as a full-time college counselor while also managing this site AND creating a new teach abroad site was REALLY HARD. I was constantly stressed and exhausted. During admissions season I developed panic attacks, and I suffered from some hard-core FOMO whenever I was offered an incredible opportunity I couldn’t take because I had to be at work.

My story is the same as any other person who wants to start their own business without the capital to quit their full-time job. Side hustles are hard. Developing a new business with a full-time job is time-consuming and exhausting. I haven’t had the time or energy to fully devote to this blog because I’ve been too busy actually working at work.

It’s my hope that leaving my job as a college counselor will actually give me the time and energy I need to make the most of this site. For the last year and a half, my traffic has been pretty much stagnant. I struggle to crank out posts on a weekly or bi-weekly basis, and I’m not making as much money as I would’ve hoped by this point.

But now you finally have my full attention, and that’s super exciting!

Me over two years ago, finishing up my dissertation at the University of Nottingham in China

So… I’m Still Actually Working for My Job in China

Wow. So many over-exaggerations! Not only did I not quit my job, I’m actually STILL working for my old company part-time.

As much as I want to dive head-first into being a professional travel blogger, I’m also a little too responsible for my own good. I’m not a fan of having a low bank account balance or taking any financial risks, and I couldn’t bear to leave my students right at the start of admissions season either. So, I decided to sign a part-time contract with my college counseling job for the remainder of the admissions season.

This fall I will be helping my students craft and design their college admissions applications remotely via email and Skype. I’ll be paid for each final draft I help my students complete, as well as each hour I meet with them to chat. So far, this hasn’t been too much work, but I know things will ramp up when deadlines start approaching.

I’ll also be coming into the office 1-2 days a week throughout October and the first half of November. I’ll be meeting a ton of students back-to-back to prep them for upcoming application interviews (my specialty!), and I may also teach a few large classes on specific topics like interviewing, essay advice, etc. Thankfully my company is paying me pretty well for these meetings, and I’ve been working closely with my coworker to schedule them all as tightly as possible.

Exploring the Summer Palace’s Suzhou Street

Why I’m Leaving China

I’ll obviously write a full post on this later because there are many, many reasons why I can’t stay in China forever, (crowds, pollution, censorship, food safety, bureaucracy, and if I get bumped into one more time…) but there are a few major reasons I can quickly address here.

I Want to See the World

Firstly, there’s just so much of the world I want to see that I haven’t been able to explore because I’ve been living as a full-time expat in China. There are even some major parts of China I still haven’t been able to travel to, mainly because I only get Chinese holidays off from work, and I don’t necessarily want to go to Huangshan at the same time as 2 billion other Chinese tourists.

I know that if I was paying rent in China, I’d constantly feel guilty whenever I was on the road. Why am I wasting all of this money on an apartment I’m not even in?! I know there’s Airbnb and subletting, but to be honest, I’d rather just put all my stuff in storage and actually travel without worrying about an apartment.

Bye bye expensive apartment

Beijing’s Rent is Way Too Expensive

Seriously, I paid more for my room in a 5-bedroom apartment in Beijing than my friend Edna did for a room in Paris! Sure, I could easily move to a cheaper city like Xi’an, Chengdu, or Kunming, which might be an option in the future, but why do that when I could have my own villa in Bali for half of what I’m paying to share a room in a tiny rundown apartment by the Beijing Zoo.

China is Horrible for Digital Nomads

Two words: internet censorship. Sure, I can get around it using VPNs, but I’m SO TIRED OF IT. Did you know I have 6 VPNs?! Yep, while I usually use Express, I have five other VPNs as a backup. FIVE.

I’m sick and tired of just not being able to get on Instagram, or having to drain my 4G to load a Snap. If I can’t get my VPN to work I have zero access to my email, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Google, Snapchat, YouTube, GoogleDocs, Pinterest, and basically everything I need to actually do my job.

Wouldn’t it be nice if the Internet just worked? I’ve almost forgotten what that’s like.

Chillin’ with Mao in Tiananmen Square

I Need a Break From China

I love China. I just spent two weeks showing my parents around Beijing, Xi’an, and Yunnan. I had such a great time and even contemplated coming back to Yunnan for a month or more! I imagined myself picking out an apartment in Xi’an and possibly opening up a cute boutique hotel there (because for some reason Xi’an doesn’t have any boutique hotels).

China is incredible, but I need a freakin’ break! China is not the easiest place to live, and after 5 years, I just want some peace and quiet! I just need a break from the constant construction, crowds, pushing and shoving, oily food, pollution, and internet censorship.

I know I’ll be back, but for now, I need to take a breather so I can appreciate all of the good things about this incredible country without becoming the dreaded ‘Jaded China Bitch‘.

Big Adventures Ahead!

So… Where Are You Going?

With all of this free time comes the desire to pack it to the brim with adventures and travels. At one point I really thought I was going to show my parents around China in September, head to TBEX Ireland in October, travel around Ireland and UK, then go to WTM at the beginning of November, head to Africa in Mid-November, and Australia in December.

Oh my god. Not only would that completely drain all of the money I’ve saved up. I also wouldn’t have ANY time to actually work.

Thankfully I was able to put my foot down and give myself a solid 6 weeks for working here in Beijing. But come mid-November I will be traveling to Japan to work with the Mie Prefecture and spend two solid weeks hiking the Kumano Kodo Pilgrimage trail! Then Chris and I will be exploring a few other major cities: Kyoto, Osaka, and Tokyo!

After that, I’ll be heading to Australia to celebrate Christmas with Chris’ family in Ben Lomond Australia, a tiny village in Australia’s New England. To be honest, some peace and quiet after a few years in China sounds like heaven.

Finally, I’ll be visiting my parents in Palm Desert California, and then I’m onto a friend’s wedding in Atlanta!

What’s Happening With Adventures Around Asia?!

Australia? The US? What’s going to happen now that you’ve left China?

I get it. I’ve actually had multiple people message me saying that they’re disappointed I’m leaving China. People have come to associate me with this country, which is actually incredible, but also a bummer for many people now that I’m leaving.

So, to answer all your questions and quell any worries, here’s what’s happening with Adventures Around Asia!

Hanging out at the summer palace

I’m Still Going to Write About China

I have so much content on China I could literally create a new site tomorrow and never run out of blog post ideas. Seriously. I almost wish this blog was only about China so that I could have the time and energy to fill it to the brim with useful China content, crazy stories, and detailed guides.

Even though I’m not living in China full-time, I’ll still be writing about China. I’ll still travel to China, I’ll still create awesome guides, and I’ll be sure to keep all my info up to date. The only thing that will change on the China front is that I will no longer be continuing my expat monthly recaps, This Beijing Life.

I’ll still be covering Asia off the Beaten Path!

I Won’t Be Writing About Places Outside of Asia

I decided a long time ago that Adventures Around Asia will focus on Asia off the Beaten Path. I’m not going to all of a sudden start writing about Australia or Europe. I want to use this blog to show off the destinations and cultures that not everyone visits. I want to inspire people to explore like a local and get off the typical tourist trail.

There are enough blogs about Europe and North America. There are enough sites teaching you how to quit your job and travel the world as a backpacker or digital nomad, and there are far too many blogs talking about traveling Southeast Asia on the cheap.

I don’t want to compete with them. Frankly, they’ve been doing it better and longer than I have. While I do plan to share what’s going on in my life with all of you through personal posts and my new monthly recap series, The Freedom Life, I don’t plan on restructuring my blog to talk about something completely different.

Gotta update all the stuff from 2012!

I Will Be Writing More, and Updating Old Content

You know what’s great about not having a full-time job? Having the time and energy to actually commit to this site. Every time I read an old post about Sichuan or Yunnan from 2012, I squirm with embarrassment. Every time I check my most recent posts and see that I’ve barely written anything, I feel guilty.

Now I finally have the time and energy to fully commit to this site. Sure, I won’t be in China, but my China content will only get better in the following months. Promise.

Sometimes it feels like I’m the only blogger that’s NOT location independent

Aren’t You a Little Late to This Digital Nomad Game?

It’s a bit weird becoming a “digital nomad” when it feels like most travel bloggers are finally starting to settle down. To be honest, I almost feel like I missed the boat. Isn’t the digital nomad fad a huge cliche now anyway?

But despite all that self-doubt, I know I need to do this for me. There’s so much of the world I still want to see, and I want to be able to run my business and make money while doing it.

I know I’m late to the game, and I don’t care. I’m not becoming a “digital nomad” because it’s cool, or popular, or because everyone’s doing it. I just want to travel and see the world while also contributing, helping others, and growing a business I’m proud of (and without worrying about money all the time.)

I know the nomadic lifestyle doesn’t last, and I’m not even sure how long I’ll travel for. I’m an expat at heart, and once I’m tired of traveling, I’ll be settling down somewhere, probably in Taiwan. I’ll get a cute apartment and a cat, practice my Mandarin, find local friends, and buy some fuzzy blankets.

For me, “digital nomad” isn’t the dream. My dream is location independence. I want to be my own boss. Travel when I want to travel. Take opportunities when they come my way, and stop constantly worrying about vacation days and being in my office at a certain time, dressed a certain way, every. single. day.

I want freedom. I want control. I want to work for myself. Whether that’s on the road, as an expat, or at home in the USA is up to me.

What About Money? How Will You Survive?

Good question.

To be honest, I don’t make much money off of this site. It was my goal to be consistently making $1,000 USD a month by the time I quit my job. However, I can pretty much say I’m only hitting $600. While this isn’t a huge issue, it’s also not where I want to be, and definitely not enough to comfortably live in Beijing.

That said, I do have a few major income streams right now, and many more ideas where that came from!

Firstly, I had about $16,000 USD saved up when I quit my college counseling job. I have to say I’m pretty proud of myself for saving that much, considering I spent the first 1.5 years paying off $20,000 in student loans.

On top of my little nest egg, I have my part-time college counseling, which is a nice little consistent source of income. I’ve also been working as a recruiter for a few different schools and education companies in China. For every teacher that arrives in China, I make about $150-300 USD. This is a pretty slow moving process (especially since I’m SUPER picky about which schools I work with), so it can take months and months of work before I finally see a penny. However, I think this will be a pretty decent stream of income for me in the future.

Upcoming Business Projects!

In the next few months, I also really hope to work on boosting my passive income by fixing old blog posts to focus on affiliates. I feel like I’ve really been dropping the ball in this area, and I’d love to fix it.

FINALLY, I have a huge project I’ve been working on for the past few months. I can’t tell you all yet, but I will say it has to do with teaching abroad in China. I’m really hoping I’ll be done with everything by January, but it’s been a pretty slow-moving process.

If you’re at all interested in teaching abroad in China and you want to be one of the first to know about my HUGE MASSIVE INCREDIBLE PROJECT, be sure to sign up for my Free Teach Abroad Mini-Course and you’ll be the first to get all the info!

Just casually climbing a mountain in Yunnan

What About Your Boyfriend?

Oh, Chris? He’s coming too!

Chris has been location independent for a while now and works from home as a travel blogger and safari sales expert for a popular Tanzanian safari company. The only reason he lives in Beijing is because I’ve been stuck here (and his brother and nephew live here too).

To be honest, in the past I always imagined embarking on this new adventure alone. I was kind of excited about the prospect of long-term solo female travel. I embraced the challenge.

However, now I’m super excited about the idea of having someone to share everything with. Chris will be with me every step of the way, from hiking the Kumano Kaido, to working till the wee hours in a cafe with horrible wifi. Thankfully we have pretty much the same exact travel style, which makes things fairly easy.

…and we’re NOT combining blogs. I’m too much of a control freak for that. 

Anything Else You Want to Know?

I know these are some huge changes, and this is a lot of information to process. That’s why I want to know: Is there anything I haven’t covered? Is there something you want to know about in more detail? Please let me know in a comment so I know what to cover in my next few posts!

Also, are you curious about hearing more on how I’m surviving as a “digital nomad”? Would you like a monthly income breakdown with personal updates on how I make money and emotionally handle working for myself? If so, would you like to see it in a monthly recap or as a post of its own? Be sure to fill me in on your thoughts!

After FIVE Years in China, I’m Finally Moving On After two years of working as a college counselor in Beijing (and over five years of living in China), I'm finally moving on.

[spiritualgravity]

A Dance with my Daughter

When I was pregnant with Isabella, I would play classical music for her through something called “Belly Buds.” My dear friend gave them to me as a gift. My husband absolutely loved the idea of having her listen to music while in the womb. If it wasn’t for him, I would have forgotten to do it most evenings. While I watched TV or read a book, I’d put the buds up against my lower belly for 30 minutes.

My pregnancy, from start to finish, was incredibly challenging — both mentally and physically. The labor was also incredibly challenging — all 36 hours — both mentally and physically. It seems that this challenging journey to parenthood was a glimpse into what was ahead.

As a first time Mom, I had absolutely no idea what to expect about caring for, and keeping a newborn baby, alive. Notice I didn’t say keeping a baby…happy. You see, I quickly learned that I had to lower my expectations. The first 3 months of a baby’s life is considered their 4th trimester, it just happens to be outside the uterus. They aren’t used to the bright lights, cold air, and freedom. The goal is to try and recreate their life inside the womb as much as humanly possible until they get adjusted.

When I would talk to my business leadership coach that my company generously pays for me to have a one-hour talk with every month, I would explain that I simply could not plan running and maintaining my at-home, entrepreneur-style business because I did not know what the first few months would be like. How could I know if I would be able to attend a video conference call if the baby was breastfeeding? How could I know if I would be able to attend a 4-hour training event if the baby wasn’t able to nap? So I decided to grant myself a self-proclaimed 12-week maternity leave.

My gut instinct was correct. I truly had no clue on the deepest level what this experience would be like. When an innocent bystander, family member or friend would ask as early as week three, “So, are you on a schedule now?” I felt an ulcer develop in my soul. Or my favorite suggestion, “Sleep when the baby sleeps.” I happen to have a baby that, coincidently, doesn’t fancy sleeping. 

Very early on, around 2 weeks in, we realized we had a special needs baby on our hands. To name just a few superlatives, Bella has reflux (this means she’d scream in pain when acid would come flying up her esophagus / throat, was very uncomfortable, and spitting up was quite common). The pediatrician prescribed a medication that seemingly did not work. We were told that there was essentially no reason to keep playing with other medications because if the first one did not work, then none of them would and she’d have to outgrow this condition hopefully between month three and month six. The doctor also explained that recent studies have shown the risk of keeping her on reflux medication long-term outweighed the immediate result, which wasn’t much. Bella is also considered colicky. The definition means the baby is younger than 5 months old, cries for more than 3 hours, 3 days a week, for 3 weeks straight. There is no cure or treatment for this, either. Sure there are dozens and dozens of gadgets and gizmos, but none of them really made a big difference. Bella is a very poor sleeper, both day and night. In addition, Bella has an intolerance for dairy, eggs, and soy. I could write a dissertation about what this experience has been like for me, eliminating lots of foods (which as it turns out, everything processed has soy in it), but I’ll save you the pity party and raise you a piece of mozarella cheese instead.

Our baby would not sit or lay in any kind of contraption that lines our house from wall to wall. A Boppy Lounge pillow, a swing, a bouncer, a bassinet — nada. So, for the first 4 weeks of her life, she slept on top of me. Which means, I did not sleep for 4 straight weeks. I also held her during daylight hours.

We finally got her to sleep in a Rock ’n Play, which after consuming an embarrassing amount of product research, I swore I wouldn’t let it be her main sleep device. It’s only meant to be a napping tool. That went out the window once our sanity was on the chopping block.

Speaking of naps, I just put baby down 12 minutes ago for a nap, and she is waking up now. This has been our reality. Essentially, every text book baby manual has been the complete opposite in our storybook. Newborn babies “should” sleep for approximately 17-18 collective hours. Ours would sleep for about 10 hours. That’s 14 hours of keeping a baby alive — not happy — who did not want to be put down in anything.

It turns out I am now ambidextrous; I learned how to use my left hand to eat, text, and type. Miss Bella was attached to me around the clock, and still very much is today.

By weeks 5-6, I was acutely aware of why sleep deprivation is used as a torture tool. I would cry, a lot, out of frustration. And complete and total exhaustion.

At this time, I randomly developed a horrible eye infection. I went to a primary care physician’s office, which happened to be the day before my 6-week OB/GYN postpartum appointment. The PCP was a new office closer to home, and so I had to complete lots of new patient paperwork. When the nurse was going through the paperwork and asked me a series of questions, it turns out she inadvertently diagnosed me with postpartum depression. When the doctor walked in, before even addressing my one-eyed-monster face, she immediately informed me that I was flagged for “moderate to severe PPD” and nearly threatened me, in the kindest way possible, to make sure I talk to my OB/GYN about it the next day. Lovely.

The one time I could have used support, the critical people in our lives — our two mothers — were both unavailable due to extreme circumstances. My mother had 2 major back-to-back surgeries and was bed ridden at home while she recovered. My mother-in-law lost a family member who lived overseas and she left for nearly 2 months immediately following Bella’s birth to spend time in her home country and mourn the loss. I have never felt more alone in my entire 38 years on earth. My husband and I were on a deserted island, together, and  stranded without any relief in sight. Friends would stop by here and there to meet the baby and drop off a dish of food, and it filled my heart with happiness to know that people were thinking of us. But, there is nothing that replaces a mother’s hug or hand of support. Nothing.

The next day I was given a prescription for Zoloft. The best part of this story is, Zoloft’s side effect was insomnia — the very cause of my PPD. The fluctuation in hormones I’m sure plays a part, but I’m convinced staying alive AND keeping a baby alive without much sleep is the ultimate culprit.

After giving this medication 4 weeks, I recently switched to another medication, which hopefully will allow me to get into REM sleep again when Bella gives me the limited opportunity.

I am not ashamed to share my story, feeling depressed, because it’s actually quite common. Many women in my life have admitted to me that they think they had PPD after giving birth, but never talked to anyone about it or received help. One in seven women suffers from PPD but 50% are never detected. I was prepared to have “baby blues” which happens the first two weeks after delivery, but never PPD.

We just crossed the 9-week mark with our little girl and continue to face pretty significant challenges, particularly in the sleep department. She has FOMO — Fear of Missing Out. She hates going down for naps. We have to rock her to sleep with white noise and most times, she’ll fight it with all of her might. This process has become nothing short of debilitating. My lower back is in knots, and my heart is ripped out on the regular trying to console this little one while she screams bloody murder and tries to wiggle her way out of our arms.

I have read books, downloaded baby development apps, absorbed thread after thread on Mommy message boards, been added to multiple Facebook Mother groups, and feverishly texted friends who have come before me with similar baby issues. If there is a trick, I have tried it. I have even been acutely aware of my own energy to make sure the anxiety is not rubbing off on the baby, to the best of my ability.

She is “healthy” as far as growing and her overall condition as a tiny human. For that, I am eternally grateful and know that others have it much, much worse with terminal or chronic conditions. But the struggle to survive has been real, day in and day out and has taken a massive toll on everyone living under our roof. Someone recently told me about Unicorn babies, and Dragon babies. Unicorn babies are the ones you hear about when the parent says, “Baby XYZ was SO easy. I was lucky.” Bella is a Dragon baby. She is stubborn, strong-willed, breathes fire, and is super duper needy.

Last week Bella had some kind of divine intervention because for one week she got all the way up to 6 consecutive hours of sleep in the evening, and a few days of a 90 minute nap vs. her usual 30 minute naps. But this past Monday she received her immunizations and has spiraled downhill ever since then. The last 3 nights have sucked the life out of me, and this morning at 6:45am, I sobbed. I sobbed while gasping for breath. I couldn’t stop crying for nearly 30 minutes.

I cried for all of it. For my marriage which has been put to the test due to an inordinate amount of impatience. For particular people in my life who haven’t been supportive and only caused additional stress. For being trapped in my house for 2 months {she hates, hates, hates the car seat and car rides}. For being a prisoner to feeding my daughter as an exclusive breastfeeder and suddenly decided she did not want to use a bottle which was my only source of relief from time to time. But mostly, I cried because I am so damn tired.

When it was time to “rock” Bella for her mid-morning nap today, I had just gotten off my monthly business coaching call and still had my Apple Airpods in my ears (wireless headphones). I had an idea. I would play a Pandora music station on my phone and stream it through bluetooth in my ears. Maybe, just maybe, listening to music turned up extra loud in my ears would drown out her screams and make the 15-20 minute experience of willing her to nap a little bit more tolerable. I prepared Bella by putting her in her sleep suit since she loathes being swaddled, and got the iPad white noise app ready too. I hit play on Pandora, and classical music began.

I evidently have not listened to music since I was pregnant and played it for Bella in my belly.

I put her head on my shoulders and held her across my chest, bracing myself for the inevitable. Instead, she fell asleep. Right away. She closed her eyes, and fell asleep. No crying. No tears. No kicking. She just drifted off to sleep, instantly.

But I didn’t put her down right away. 

I danced with her. I listened to the beautiful music of gentle instrumental piano sounds, and slowly waltzed in circles with my 10 pound, 11 ounce baby. And I sobbed. I sobbed because this morning during my 30 minute cry fest, I prayed. I prayed for mercy. So now I sobbed from gratitude.

I danced with my daughter and swirled around with her in my arms for several minutes while she was sound asleep. That moment with her was everything, second to her smile.

[eurolinguiste]

I used to procrastinate.

And okay, yes, if I’m completely honest, sometimes I still do. But I’m trying to kick the habit.

In the past, I’d put things off because I always figured I’d get to them later. But then, I missed out on an important experience, thinking I’d get to do it the next time around. As you can guess, that didn’t happen and so now, I do everything I can to avoid procrastinating.

It’s easy to sit back and think, “I have plenty of time.”

And yes, you have a lot of years ahead of you. I can see why you think that. But not doing something now – today – can quickly become not doing something in the next few days, months, then years. I’ve come to realize that later = never more often than not.

Time Honestly Flies By

I know I’m not alone when I say that I sometimes look back at certain events or tasks and think, “was it really that long ago?”

Yes. Yes, it was.

If you plan to do something, do it when you first have the opportunity. If you don’t, you may never have the chance to actually do it.

Travel? Oh you have plenty of time…

Language learning? You’ll get there soon. Don’t worry about it for now…

Going after your dreams? You need to focus on other, “safer” things…

Those books you want to read? You’ll have the chance when you retire…

If something is really important to you, then do it. Otherwise you’ll constantly live with the regret of having held yourself back.

Let me tell you that personal story I hinted at just a moment ago.

When I was getting ready to graduate from university (the first time), I dreaded the idea of attending the commencement ceremony. It was in part because I’m extremely introverted, but also in part because of the size of my graduating class. It would have been a long day out in the sun.

When graduation finally rolled around, I was still on the fence. I avoided pulling out the sign up form despite being prodded by my parents and professors to participate. I had already planned to continue my education and earn my Master’s degree, so I figured I’d just walk when I finished my education.

But that didn’t happen.

After completing the final semester of my Master’s degree, I moved to California. Before the graduation ceremony was scheduled. I left Ireland in June, mailed my dissertation in September and commencement was held in December. I didn’t get to go.

I never got to experience what it would have felt like to be handed a college diploma. To celebrate my experiences as a student. Instead, my only graduation experience was that of messages from a friend back in Ireland telling me how I was listed in the graduation program.

I learned then that if I wanted to do something – to experience something – NOW is the time to do it. If you wait for the opportunity to do it later, that chance may never come.

You might be thinking, “Thanks for the story, Shannon… But what does this have to do with languages?”

Great question. The answer? Everything.

Study Now, Even If It Is Only For a Few Minutes

More days than I care to admit I come home from work completely drained. I take one look at my study space and the first thought that pops into my mind is: “I’ll sit down and study this weekend.”

The thing is, if I don’t sit down and put some time in now but instead wait for the weekend, I probably wouldn’t study. On the weekends, I get so caught up in other responsibilities and tasks that the days disappear without a moment of language learning.

Putting things off – waiting to do your language study later – usually means you won’t get around to studying.

But it’s not just complete avoidance that gets me. Sometimes I AM studying languages, but I’m not being effective at it because I’m still procrastinating.

What Procrastination Really Looks Like

When you think about procrastination, what do you imagine?

Waiting until the night before to submit a school paper? Avoiding scrubbing down the bathroom by rearranging the contents of your cabinets? Reading clickbait articles when you should be researching?

When I procrastinate, I’m often guilty of doing things like:

* Socializing during my language exchanges or lessons rather than working * Waiting for the perfect moment or break in my schedule to study * Prioritizing any one of 100 tasks over language learning * Reviewing material I already know well rather than tackling that tough grammar point (like the subjunctive in Spanish or cases in Russian) * Constantly switching tasks, resulting in wasted transition time In the moment, it may feel like I’m doing the work, but really, these are all forms of procrastination.

A little surprised? I was too when I first sat down and thought about it because in my head, procrastination = lazy. My vision of it was that I was only procrastinating if I knew I had an upcoming deadline but I chose to veg out on the couch and play video games.

I didn’t feel too guilty about the ways I was actually procrastinating because it wasn’t tied to laziness. I was still getting things done, but I wasn’t being productive. I was still putting off doing the things I really needed to do by focusing my attention on other, less important tasks.

Why Do We Procrastinate?

Procrastination happens for a variety of reasons, but the reason I want to focus in on is feeling overwhelmed at the task at hand.

Language learning is a huge project. So it makes sense that at times you might feel overwhelmed or uncertain about the next step.

The go-to advice for this is to set small, quick little tasks that result in easy wins. I could easily tell you to do something like aim to speak without pause for 30 seconds to a minute about yourself, or write a 500 word introduction to one of your hobbies, or to earn 30 points on Duolingo and leave it at that.

It would give you something immediate that you could achieve in five minutes or less – yay you – but I would be neglecting the real problem if I did that.

So let’s look at why we really feel overwhelmed, intimidated, or even shy about studying and using a new language.

Can you guess what it is?

A fear of making mistakes.

This particular problem is discussed by tons of well-known language learners, but it’s often associated with confidence. So what does it have to do with time management?

Everything.

When you’re afraid of making mistakes, you’re afraid to invest in your language learning. You hold yourself back, find excuses not to put the time in, and to avoid challenging situations like exchanges, difficult grammar, or opportunities to use the language in the wild.

This avoidance leads to poor uses of your time (and studies) and stagnates your progress.

I completely understand the desire to have everything perfect. I’m shy and an introvert, I struggle with confidence and when I make an effort, I want that effort to be right. I don’t want to have spent all of that energy and courage I’ve worked up to go to waste because somehow I messed it up.

The way you speak, your overall comprehension of a language, the body language you use, the timing of your jokes, your understanding of idiomatic expressions, the way you present yourself to native speakers of your target languages are all things you worry about. The list can go on. And you’re especially tempted to strive for perfectionism, particularly when you’re aiming for that tantalizing goal of “fluency”.

But the truth is, perfectionism can stop your learning in its tracks. It can hold you back, paralyze you and keep you from moving forward with not only your speaking, but in your progress with the language as a whole.

Not a good way to be productive or manage your time if you ask me.

Perfectionism can hinder any part of your language learning, but it can especially hold up your progress when it comes to speaking a language. When it comes to speaking, we often feel an added pressure to speak “perfectly”, as though we’re being judged on our performance in the language. Our accents and pronunciation need to be on par with native speakers, our grammar flawless, and our vocabulary impressive.

But that’s not actually the case.

As long as you can make yourself understood and you can understand what’s being said to you (for the most part), then you’re doing a pretty good job.

You can get lost in the preparation stage, never giving all your hard work in a language a chance to see the light of day. And that’s an opportunity all the effort you’ve made deserves!

If You Wait For Perfection, You’re Missing Out

Everyone worries that they’ll be judged, mocked, rejected, shut down, or even shunned for not waiting until their ability in a language is perfect. So you procrastinate and avoid putting yourself in situations where you think this will happen.

Something you should know though, is that the other people you meet, particularly those that are a part of the language learning community, are too busy doing their own thing to make you feel embarrassed about your language skills. In fact, they’re probably just as preoccupied with their own faults to really notice yours. And as long as you show that you’re making a sincere effort to do your best, grow, learn, improve, connect, and share what you’re doing, then native speakers and other learners will support your efforts. (Or at the very least, not make you feel bad about them.)

Enthusiasm and hard work are far more essential to your success than perfectionism. You can’t be afraid to make mistakes. In fact, much like Benny Lewis, I would even argue that we need to make more mistakes. We need to feel a bit embarrassed or a bit frustrated and sometimes we even need to feel a little bit angry with ourselves because that’s what motivates us to get better.

It’s very unlikely that you’ll ever be the best. There will almost always be someone just a little bit better than you. Accepting that along with the fact there is no such thing as perfect can be one of the most liberating experiences you’ll ever have.

At some point in your life, you may get weighed down with self-doubt, wondering if we’ll ever be good enough. These thoughts can be overwhelming, and more often than not, lead us to putting things on the backburner. We tell ourselves that we’ll be ready later and that we just need more time.

But by waiting for later, by waiting for things to be perfect, you’ll find you’re only setting yourself up to wait, well, forever.

Over-analyzing where you’re at and where you think you should be will only prevent you from achieving success.

Putting Yourself Out There is Worth the Risk

Why would you put yourself out there and make mistakes when you can just do a lot of preparation and avoid the embarrassment of mistakes altogether?

Again, good question.

Although you can technically argue that it’s better to do more preparation before you put yourself out there (one form of this is called the “silent period”), I’d counter argue that by not using all of that material you’re learning, you have a greater risk of losing it and of making even more mistakes when you finally have that conversation you’ve prepared so long and hard for. And this, more so than those little, regular mistakes (which actually help you build up a thick skin against the embarrassment of making them), can be detrimental to your language learning endeavors. It will be far more discouraging than those little, regular mistakes could ever be.

So remember this. You don’t need to be perfect, you just need to get out there and use the language that you’re learning.

Here are a few things that you can do to overcome any hurdles related to procrastination:

1) Set deadlines

Have you noticed that you’ve mastered the skill of avoiding learning a certain skill in your target language? Maybe t’s really understanding the honorific system or particles, or maybe it’s conversations in general because you’re worried that you won’t understand.

If there’s a specific task you’ve been avoiding, it’s time to set a deadline.

Think about just how big the actual task is. Is it one grammar point? One of the four core skills – speaking, listening, reading, writing – that you don’t want to tackle? Or is it just remembering which words are feminine and which are masculine?

Once you have identified just what it is you’ve been skipping over, see if there’s a way to break it down.

We’ll take learning noun genders, for instance.

You can break it up into:

* Finding resources that explain the rules in a way that makes sense to you * Reading through those resources * Memorizing the rules * Reading about the exceptions * Memorizing the most common exceptions * Doing exercises to internalize the rules and exceptions * Asking your tutor to correct you specifically when you use the incorrect gender during your lessons

Now that you have the task broken up into manageable assignments, you can stick dates on each one so that you can check them off your list.

2) Treat yo’self

You do something because you expect results, consequences, or rewards. With language learning, results and consequences aren’t necessarily things you see immediately, so if you need that motivation, you can find it by rewarding yourself. Finished that Duolingo module on the future tense? Treat yourself. Had a 15 minute conversation in Spanish with your tutor? Treat yourself. Managed to make it through a 25-30 minute study session with checking your phone once? Treat yourself.

It can be something as small as having a box of candy on your desk and eating a couple of them each time you check off an item in your to-do list or as big as going out to dinner or a movie or a binge on Netflix. Whatever keeps you going.

3) Accept mistakes

Even if that mistake happens to be that you’ve procrastinated – again.

Forgive yourself for making them, and move forward.

By forgiving yourself for making them, you’ll steadily become less intimidated by them. In result, you’re less likely to avoid situations where they’ll happen in the future.

It’s all about doing a little better than the day before.

Did you enjoy this post? Great! There’s tons more where it came from. Why? Because it’s a sample of a lesson from my course Language Learning Accelerator. If you’re looking for more tips on becoming better at managing your time or energy as a language learner, I’d love for you to take a moment to check it out!

And now I’ll turn it over to you.

Do you ever procrastinate when it comes to studying your language?

What holds you back? What do you do to overcome it?

I’d love to hear from you in the comments!

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The post How Procrastination Will Destroy Your Language Studies & Tips for Overcoming It appeared first on Eurolinguiste.