#i spent all last night having fake rants to the guy who hired me telling him if i dont get more pto next year i quit

[apeshit]

last night was rly weird i cant remember how much of it was sleep and how much was just me with my eyes shut but my heart physically hurts . time to go to work

[songtoyou]

PRomance - Part Two

Paring: Chris Evans x Famous Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,662

Warnings: None

Description: Chris needs some good press. He convinces one of his closest friends to partake in a PRomance.

A/N: This idea came to me one night. This is pure fiction as I do not know what Chris believes when it comes to politics and policy issues. This is a complete work of fiction. Italic represents flashbacks for this chapter. Bold represents text messages.

I do not permit my work to be to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list:  @ccolz88-blog​ @katiew1973​ @southerngracela​ @inlovewith3​ @thevelvetseries​ 

Note: Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

Chris had been so wrapped with interviews while in D.C. for ASP. He was excited about some downtime. However, Chris knew he would not be able to enjoy himself too much. Tonight was the night of the official “outing” he would have with you. The hired paparazzi would be staked out of the selected hotel and restaurant to capture pictures of you and Chris entering and exiting both establishments. You mentioned to Chris and Megan that the first outing needed to be simple and not extreme. The outing should draw attention but not appear out of the ordinary. 

It was not like you and Chris had never been photographed together. The fans were used to seeing you both hangout from time-to-time. As Megan mentioned, the two of you always had a “will they, won’t they” vibe. Neither you nor Chris paid much attention to it as neither wanted to jeopardize the friendship. However, you could not quiet the little voice in your head that told you this whole situation might end up making things worse. 

You had a couple of days off from your talk show, so you planned to travel to D.C. for the weekend. It was not lost on you that the day you traveled was Valentine’s Day, which was such a contrast to how you spent the holiday last year. Your former boyfriend was a chef who preferred the quiet and nomadic life. As you and your friends affectionately nicknamed him, Chef was never keen on participating in the Hollywood/celebrity spectacle with you, which you understood. It was not his scene, not his type of people. 

Your friendship with Chris also did not help matters as your ex could not hide his contempt for the actor. You never could quite understand the resentment. “He is just a little too friendly for my taste. The guy doesn’t understand boundaries. Like, why would he? Chris can do whatever he wants, and no one says anything against him,” Chef ranted one night.

“You don’t know Chris as I know him. Is he perfect? No, of course not. But he isn’t some evil guy you make him out to be. You have never bothered to get to know him…” you tried to counter, but Chef cut you off.

“I don’t need to get to know him. I don’t like him. Plain and simple. Y/N, you are too naïve sometimes.”

“So, basically…what you are telling me is that you don’t trust my friendship with Chris. Is that correct? You don’t trust him around me. But overall, what this tells about you is that you don’t trust?” you replied, angry at him. He was ridiculous. 

“Look, I don’t want to fight about this anymore. Let’s, I’m sorry. I do trust you.”

Unfortunately, it turned out that Chef did not trust you. The constant arguing about Chris began taking a toll on the relationship. It was too much drama that neither wanted to deal with; you both decided to go your separate ways last November. Overall, it was for the best. You did not leave the relationship with any ill contempt for your ex but were disappointed that you could not make it work out with him in the end.

Chris made sure that a car service was scheduled to pick you up from the airport and take you to the hotel. While you took the time to put away your clothes and sort out your toiletries, there was a knock on your door. Peeking through the peephole, you saw Chris and opened the door to let him inside.

“Hi!” you squealed and wrapped your arms around Chris for a hug.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Chris responded and returned the hug. “Thanks for coming out tonight and staying for the rest of the weekend. I appreciate it greatly. I know you are busy with your things, and now I got you entangled in my mess…”

“Chris, will you shut it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to. I know your intentions with this whole situation are good. I’m not going to deny that I’m happy you decided to come to me with this and not some up-and-coming starlet for this venture,” you admitted candidly.

“Well, you are one of the few people that I can truly trust. So…” Chris began as he sat down on the bed, “Everything is set for eight o’clock tonight. We have reservations at Karma Modern Indian because I know how much you love Indian food. I forgot today was Valentine’s Day, so we were lucky to get a table.”

“You forgot it was Valentine’s Day! What a disappointing fake boyfriend you are,” you teased him.

“Haha… I’ll buy you a cookie later if it makes you feel better.”

You merely rolled your eyes and lay down on the bed. You were tired. It had a long week, and the one thing you wanted to do was take a nap. Thankfully, you had a couple of hours to spare before dinner tonight. Chris could see that you were exhausted and that your eyes were now closed.

“Hey, I’ll come back later, okay. You want me to call you to let you know that you need to wake up and get ready?” Chris asked.

“Yeah,” you mumbled as sleep overtook you, and Chris quietly got up to step out of your hotel room. 

By 6:45 p.m., the sound of your iPhone began ringing, which woke you from your slumber. “I’m up. I’m up,” you said when answering, knowing it was Chris on the other end.

“You sleep well?”

Yeah. It was a much-needed nap. I’m going to start getting ready. I’ll meet you down in the lobby at 7:50, okay?” you told Chris.

“Sounds good. See you in a bit,” Chris replied, and you both ended the call.

Once showered, you applied your makeup and styled your hair. There was the added pressure knowing that you would be photographed, so you went for a more sophisticated look. Your outfit was a white off-shoulder long sleeve sweater dress, which you accompanied with knee-high length gray boots and a burgundy leather jacket.

After giving yourself a final look over in the mirror, you grabbed your clutch and headed out to the lobby. It did not surprise you that you arrived at the lobby first as you knew Chris tended to take longer to get ready than he liked to admit. You also figured that Chris was probably dealing with anxiety, not only about ASP but the outcome of tonight as well. You decided to shoot Chris a quick text message.

You: I’m dressed and waiting in the lobby.

Chris: Okay. I’m coming down.

As you continued to wait for Chris, you looked outside the hotel and could vaguely make out the photographer standing across the street waiting for you and Chris to exit.

“Oh my God. This is going to be such a shit show,” you said quietly to yourself. Now your anxiety about the whole thing was about to resurface. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” said Chris as he walked towards you. “Wow! You look nice,” he commented. 

“Just nice?” you teased as you gave him a spin.

“You look gorgeous,” Chris replied.

“That’s better. There’s a photographer outside waiting. Thankfully, our driver is already waiting for us,” you told him and added, “So, remember what we went over? No looking in the direction of the photographer. We walk side-by-side. If we hold each other’s hands, we interlace them waffle style. None of that palms flat pancake style you tend to do. Okay?”

“I got it. This isn’t my first rodeo, Y/N,” Chris pointed out.

“Alright. You ready?”

“No,” he said bluntly with a grin.

“Me either. Deep breaths. We got this,” you replied with a light laugh and interlaced your right hand with Chris’s left hand. 

As you exited the hotel with Chris, you wondered again the ramifications this outing would stir amongst fans and the media. Would this be accepted or challenged? Would reputations be ruined? These are the concerns you shared with both Chris and Megan. Your manager and publicist were not keen on the PRomance situation with Chris. 

“You used to say that you would rather stick a needle in your eye than partake in desperate PR setups,” your publicist reminded you.

“And I still maintain that sentiment, but Chris is my friend, and he needs help. I would rather him come to me than scrounge around for some no-talent starlet to agree to this PR stunt. It would just end up blowing up in his face,” you said.

“Y/N, need I remind you of Hiddleswift and how that was such a disaster. Tom has never fully recovered from that fiasco,” your manager shared. “My worry is that you could end up being Tom Hiddleston in this scenario.”

“What! That is absurd! Why would I be Tom in this situation?” you asked, confused.

“You have more to lose. Listen to me; you are in the first season of your talk show. It is getting great ratings. Great reviews. NBC just signed the show on for a second season. The chances of you and the show getting nominated for the Daytime Emmy Awards are high. This thing with Chris could cause all of that to come crashing down. We don’t want you to be the butt of anyone’s jokes, sweetheart. It would be completely unwarranted,” you publicist explained and asked, “Are you sure that you want to do this?” 

“Yes, I do. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. This is Chris we are talking about; he is a good guy. He’s not going to throw me under the bus if this all turns to shit. The two of us are in this together. I trust him.”

‘God, please don’t let this blow up in our faces,’ you said to yourself once entering into the restaurant with Chris by your side.

[djrelentless]

This Is Us

It's June 12th. 2017 (the anniversary of the Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando) and I'm trying to get in the spirit of celebrating Pride this year. While I am reflecting on the tragic incident that happened in my home state, I still feel sad for the loss and can't seem to get in the celebratory spirit. It's hard because I'm watching a class warfare divide and conquer the LGBT Community of Toronto. Everyone is still fighting over what happened last year at the Pride parade when Mathieu Chantelois and Pride board of directors decided to use Black Lives Matters as a political statement to show how inclusive they were by inviting the group to be grand marshals. The only thing was, Black Lives Matters knew what that move was really about…a fake olive branch to show how diverse Toronto is after World Pride. 

Apparently Mathieu had impressed the board so much with his planning and connections for the previous Pride that they gave him complete control over the 2016 celebration. Along with such moves he spent thousands of dollars on bringing a lot performers, gay celebrities and DJs from out of town to make appearances for Pride weekend while kind of marginalizing the locals and people of color. Now, for a certain demographic of the LGBT Community this was fabulous! They really felt like Toronto was a world class city after World Pride in 2015. The only problem was that by the time we got to the 2016 parade the world had changed a lot. With the rise of police brutality and racial profiling in the United States all over the news, many people of color were forming their own chapters of Black Lives Matters in solidarity. So, there was all kinds of tension bubbling under the surface when this invitation was extended to the group. Given that the organization felt like they were being used for a photo-opportunity, and it seems to me Black Lives Matters decided to use this opportunity to protest and make their voices known that people of color are not living the same existence in the LGBT Community as their counterparts…white gays.

Well, we all know the headlines of what happened at the parade and how Mathieu faked a signing of their demands to get it back moving. He bragged about it in the news that next day. One of the demands that BLM asked for was that "no uniformed police officers be on a float in the parade" since many of the people of color had been harassed and profiled by the police in their neighborhoods and on the streets of Toronto. So, if you have never been treated this way by the police this demand seemed outrageous…unheard of. But to put this in perspective….this is like the difference between living in a building with a doorman as opposed to living in a building with security guards patrolling it. These are two completely different experiences when you think of home. 

Okay…so BLM took to social media to complain and express their distaste with Mr. Chantelois' backhanded move at the parade. That's when things really started heating up. the two weeks after the parade I tried to organize a closed door meeting with the an elected official, Pride Committee, Black Lives Matters and other disgruntled local performers/DJs to discuss and hammer out a solution for this year's event. 'Cuz, it wasn't just about racial discourse…it was also about ageism and other marginalized issues in last year's festivities. Well, apparently some were too busy or going on vacation to meet. There were a couple of people who were willing to come sit at the table but mainly because tempers were so hot most ignored my calls and emails.

But to really get to the meat of the problem we have to rewind Toronto's Pride history back to 2013. I guess this would be the year that I became the pariah to Pride. That was the year that I was checking my facebook account before going to bed around 6 AM on the Monday of Pride week and saw a posting of a drag queen in blackface. All I wrote was "I don't even know what to say about this" and left it at that. I didn't even go back to the post because it was an accepted fact that this performer was known on Church Street for being offensive and pushing buttons. Plus I had already seen another performer doing numbers at Woody’s dressed as a Middle Eastern woman with a bomb belt….and this was considered to normal entertainment for the gay village. I did read a post complaining about that performance but the powers that control the hiring, firing and booking did nothing. The complaint was from a person of color and it was only one. So, it was paid no mind.

So, I got a phone call from a fellow DJ who told me to go back to the blackface post because my husband and I were being crucified in the comments. Unaware that my husband had gone an expressed his dislike for the photo while I was sleeping, I was kinda shocked to read some of the comments. Especially the ones telling me and him to go back to the US and stop trying to spread democracy across Canada with our African-American problems. Don't believe me…I have the facebook thread saved as proof and you won't believe some of the people who said these things. Even people of color were coming to this performer's defense. The funny thing is…my husband is Canadian and white.

Well, since I tend to write better than I speak I decided to write a blog pointing out that Canada isn't as innocent as it thinks it is when it comes to racism. The myth that it doesn't exist here was shattered by all the news clippings I pointed out from 2010 to the present time of the blackface incident. That went over like a lead-ballon. Folks don't like to be reminded of the misgivings  and definitely not how they are not as inclusive as they would like others to believe. The facebook posts and my blog made it to the Toronto Star.The performer who did blackface got fired from hosting the main stage for Pride that year. It was all blamed on me. I was the bad guy and the establishment I worked for even sat me down to give a light threat that my job was on the line for speaking out. They didn't do it out fear that I would go to press again, but this made many who had embraced me step back. A few people of color had my back but that number could be counted on both hands….not the POC Community at large.

And then came another racial incident where I was the DJ for Toronto's only Drag King night. It was going good…until I discovered that all the performers were white and a few did Hip Hop material with the n-word in it. Being the only person of color in the room some nights, it was really hard to watch white lesbians lip-syncing the word "nigga" to a room full of mostly white lesbians. So, I posted one night while I was working that I had decided to quit because of what I was witnessing and being subjected to. The troupe's only transgendered man ripped me a new one on facebook in a very long rant. Claiming that I was trying to control their show and content. Another ironic thing I just read the other day….a Xtra article asking why there aren't any spaces for Drag Kings in the gay village.

I bring all these things up to pose a question. I wonder what would have happened had we as a community addressed these issues back then. What if more people of color had stood up and said "Hey! Blackface has no place in our community!" What if the lesbians of color stood up and said "Hey…this isn't cool to be using that kind of language in your shows." Do you think that we as the LGBT Community could have really made everyone feel included in the conversation and a part of the solutions? I mean…if we can't acknowledge there is or was a problem how can we move forward?

Yesterday I posted a link about Philadelphia’s amended rainbow flag that has black and brown stripes added. Like with most things that are happening on social media today, there was much push back against this idea. The community that is supposed to be so inclusive has really shown their true colors about unity. Arguments that this is some power move by people of color to undermine our community shows exactly why and how we got here today. From flat out calling the idea "bullshit" to just wanting to lash out because the flag and pride celebration that catered to this demographic was being disrupted by people who should leave things the way they are. We've come so far and they are trying to tear it all down with division.

Yeah…this what some in the community actually believe.

But let's look at the other side of the story. The majority of the people of color in Toronto who joined Black Lives Matters are black and of Caribbean decent. For most, their living standard is definitely not like a Mathieu Chantelois. They don't have the luxury to run over to Montreal for the weekend whenever they feel like it. They don't have a cottage or tickets to a circuit party. I want you to take a moment and think about that for a second... If you can do these things on a semi-regular basis, you have no idea what it is like to be a gay person of color barely paying your bills on time. And just because you have a friend or two who can do these things that does not mean that everyone is in that same position. I have plenty of friends who are in better standings in life than I am and they have no clue that I'm just a poor man struggling to keep on top of things.

The bottom line is this all comes down to money. The Black Community does not have any financial power in the  mainstream LGBT Community in Toronto. Hell…there isn't even a black gay bar in this town. For many they are regulated to separate parties thrown by DJ Blackcat (and thank God for him continuing year after year to find spaces to throw these events). I bet many of the white gays don't even know who he is. But you should. He and a few others are the backbone of black events in Toronto. These are the people you should be going to when planning the big Pride events. They are the real voices of the Black Community. I'll tell you someone else who should be at that table….Kerolos Saleib. He runs a party called Arabian Knights that welcomes everyone but is themed for the Middle Eastern LGBT community. Someone from El Convento Rico should be on the committee for Pride planning. It's just basic common sense. Local people who are already working in the community and a part of it. 

Granted…there are some issues with the Black Lives Matters protest. Since they mainly have no financial power it is hard to sit at that table. "What money are you bringing to Pride?" The white gays spend money and that's just a fact. I can remember when I first got here to Toronto I started a Vogue night at a bar that no longer exists. The Ballroom kids came out for it. It was a cute little crowd. But they had no money to spend on drinks. I told one of the main voguers that he and his friends needed to start buying some drinks or that night was not going to last. He looked at me like I shot his mother. But the truth is…your dollars are like your vote in situations. The push back that Black Lives Matters received wasn't all based on racism. Some of it was financial. And although some funding comes from the City, it would be great to see everyone working together to raise some funds and build the community as a whole. This would be a solution to getting everyone involved and participating.

And although it is good to see Olivia Nuamah at the helm this year, there's been push back against her as a British woman of color. I love that she is definitely making strides to reach out to not only the marginalized but as well as those in position of authority. Her experience as a community builder and work in the non-profit / government sector is very impressive, but I still think that the board needs to be compiled of local promoters. Imagine if Fly, Crews & Tangos, El Convento, Club 120, Blyss, Woodys, Striker Sports Bar, Flash and Statlers all were at the same table making plans together to accommodate all the diversity that Toronto has to offer. Promoters like MOJO, Blackcat and Kerolos coming together to make the ultimate plan that includes everyone and features the best of our local talented performers and DJs. Would we be at this place right now? Arguing over stripes on a flag…attacking each other for any posts that we don't personally agree with or understand?

For those who are so adamantly against the change for the flag, someone posted on my facebook page "Why don't they just make their own flag?" Well…we are. We are taking the rainbow and adding black and brown stripes for the people who want to show their solidarity for the people of color who feel that they are not being represented. You don't have to carry that flag. This amendment doesn't devalue or diminish the rainbow flag that has been the symbol of our community for many decades. In fact, the original design had eight stripes and was proposed to get away from the pink triangle that was associated with the Nazi branding of homosexuals in the camps. I personally don't think the new design will catch on. Although I do think it would be brilliant because the Black and brown could also cover the Leather and Bear Communities as well. Why not? Let's get everyone on the flag. Just know that my interpretation doesn't effect yours. Just like your opinion doesn't effect mine…unless we compromise.

The LGBT Community is constantly evolving. Just look at all the new terms that have been added to make everyone feel represented. So, to allow others to wave their own flag is part of evolving. We have to grow if we are going to accommodate the future. And the words we use for ourselves are just as important. The ones we use and the ones we omit all play a part in how we communicate with each other.I mean, the omission of  a few words like "in uniform on a float" turned this town into a war zone of words. No one said "no police at the parade" in the demands of Black Lives Matters. Click-bait  media did that. And it gave an excuse for those who have been harboring feelings of exclusion to express them openly. Now it has turned into "no police in the parade" because that's what was put out there to stir up controversy. "Shut up and sit down" is basically what many feel like they are being told. Well, I think the folks who fought at Stonewall were tired of just going along with the program. Had those queens and lesbians not fought with the police would we be here trying to celebrate pride at all?

United we stand….divided we fall. We've come too far to stumble now.

I didn't write this to divide us. I wrote it to hopefully inspire all of us to start really working on a solution on how to move forward from this point on. When I look at Toronto I see such potential. On paper it looks like Toronto has everything covered and everyone accounted for, but the reality is that some of our brothers and sisters are being left behind and most are not paying attention or even care. That is the heart of the matter….realizing that what effects me actually effects you. And this is why I do as much as I can to give back in my own way. You can't just take, take, take…..you gotta give back and contribute.

So, on this day when 49 people lost their lives in a senseless shooting in Orlando, Florida I am hoping to awaken some people to the idea that we need to be united. That shooting could have happened anywhere in the world. We need to get back to being a community that cares and uplifts each other. Just a thought...

[cometladyicarus-blog]

Alliance and Hierarchy pt.2

 Okay, here’s part two which sets up for the sketch I had linked to in part 1 - a fairly generic work scene considering who’s involved, after all.

Not much to ramble about here, except for some awkward transitions I haven’t figured out how to smoother over just yet. And as before, handwave inconsistencies with canon while reading, but let me know where I was off-canon please!

I freely admit, I don’t know much (or anything) about prosthetics except for the occasional news story, but I presume that in the future prosthetics would be better than the ones available now. 

Part 1

Part 2

Who doesn’t love dealing with Akuze’s aftermath?

12 March 2178 (Human Calendar)

Citadel Lower Wards

15:15 Local Time

The artificial leg was awkward, but the Salarian doctor with the motor mouth the Alliance hired had an improved version waiting for Jane in Dr. Michel’s Ward Medical Center. He may not have the right angles in his own legs, but he seemed to know how to make artificial legs for a human with a habit of tripping in heels of any kind originally. Then again, Asari have a very similar leg build, or appear be. Regardless, she doubted - if Asari did have a similar bone structure for legs as humans - she was the first creature to be missing a leg.

Doctor Michel greeted her and waved out a patient who had apparently been faking an illness to get out of work. “Lieutenant Commander Shepard, your leg has arrived. The privacy curtain is going up, now.”

“Thanks.” Jane unlaced her boots - still her active duty pair, considering her other shoes were strappy things she had been convinced to buy a year ago when Rain - no, not now. Michel passed through the curtain as she was kicking off the last bit of pant leg onto the floor.

She flashed a grin at the ward doctor as she hopped onto the table, flexing both feet, though the temporary one was slower to react and actually stuttered as she moved the ankle. “So, pop out the temp, pop in the new, and all’s good?”

“Physically.” The Human doctor frowned, but the new leg was installed with very little problem. “I still think you should speak with psychological expert again. Causes of injury like yours don’t heal without scarring of the mind.”

“I'll be fine, they cleared me as sound of mind. My nine months are almost up.” Shepard's green eyes stared out the windows. “I'm not sure I'm ready to go back into service. I’ve never actually had time to do anything else, really. Mom would still have Golden Boy John the Hero, y’know, and I could never live up to that.”

She slid to the edge of the table and placed her good foot on the floor first, leaning on the table as the false leg touched the solid surface. She shifted her stance to place more of her weight onto the new leg until she was touching the table for balance and holding one leg up. A practice walk around the table, good, good, no creaks, no cracks, just footsteps.

Jane was zipping and buttoning her pants when the doctor asked her an odd question.

“Where would you go, Lieutenant Commander, if not back to the Alliance?”

She was dancing - sort of, she was never a very graceful person, though the new leg was more stable than her original two together ever were - to the tune of some old Earth song about shutting up and just dancing with the one’s true love. Or something. Old Earth romance dance songs weren't her usual thing, she only went to Humanity's cradle for Graduation Leave. Hell, dancing wasn't, but the new leg actually supported her weight and was fully locked into the socket. It was time to celebrate giving away that stupid cane!

And what better way than to wear a cute little number that didn’t leave her ass out to the world, or try to make a fuss about making her flat chest seem bigger, in a pair of strappy heels that didn’t catch in the ball-hinge joint of her new leg? Celebrate life and freedom! And booze!

To pretend her life wasn't one disaster after another. To take back her life from The Legacy. She downed her shot- sweet, hint of fire, savory- and signed for another one.  

Not drunk yet, she only started ordering her usual list that seemed longer than it used to be. Last Leave, Commander Trapper ordered them off the ship to keep from bothering the Odette crew still stuck on duty. Toombs was determined to survive Leave sober enough to take everyone back from the bar, but his plan failed when Lefty wasn't paying attention and poured rum into his soda.

She had won the drinking game as they watched some game or another and had to take a drink every time the announcer started shouted excitedly. Lefty picked an arm-wrestling match against a visiting Turian. Rain was busy lecturing on the importance of good medical care to the three equally drunk Volus.

When the commander found the whole team half-passed out playing pool and still drinking and telling bad jokes, he apologized to the bar owner.

And the team was the group of nice military people. Who chased off the xenophobic locals from harassing the Turian engineering squad also on their own Leave. The lecture Trapper almost ripped into them before the clarification—

A jittery Salarian bumped into her, breaking her memory as she stepped away from the bar and sipped at another glass of … something, blue, at the bar. He dropped a device as the Volus owner barreled through. She smiled at the mental image of a Volus pinball knocking over patrons. Maybe a Volus Vanguard on a Biotic Charge?

Ah well, the Salarian escaped the burly reach of the Human bouncer’s arms. The owner wandered back to the bar and walked under the barkeep/patron barrier ledge.

“- That Salari-an! - I know he was chea-ting.”

She knelt down to pick up the device. “Sir? Was this that Salarian gentleman's?”

“-Yes. - Thank you,- ah?”

She smiled. “Shepard, well, Jane Shepard.”

“Yes - thank you, - Jane Shepard - of Earth-Clan -.”

She spent the next two and a half weeks at Flux’s as an unofficial bouncer, stepping in when the waitress girls were being bothered, and watching the quasar machines for the accused cheater. She was paid in drinks and food from the bar. Not a bad gig. Kept her from falling too deep in old memories. Or the new ones haunting her dream hours.

Until one night, a week before her leave was up and she would have to call it quits on her unofficial job anyway, a C-Sec officer tapped her on the shoulder.

She had been telling the waitress about how she got some of the scars - not the Thresher Maw ones, too soon, no good, badbadbad - and showing off her - now scarred, being on her inner lower arm - tattoo marking which Company she was a part of, when she was tapped on the shoulder with the tattoo of her squad.

Single finger tap, a wide and long-ish instead of skinny and long finger, from an armor plated glove, blunted tip, had to be Turian. Asari did not wear armor plate, nor have wide fingers, and often tapped with two fingers like a lot of Humans. Salarians, on the other hand, tapped with one but didn’t often wear plates, nor did they have wide fingers. Krogan was unlikely, she’d just be pushed or shoved instead of tapped. Too tall to be a Volus. Elchor just spoke in a rumbly voice and wouldn't tap someone on the shoulder. She turned the barstool, adjusting the wide strap of her dress.

Turian was correct. Fringe and prominent cowl identified him as a young-ish adult male turian. He looked to be about her age, just out of mandatory military service. And taller than her, like most Turians. “Excuse me. Officer Garrus Vakarian. C-Sec.”

She smiled and held out a hand. Yeah, he was about her age. Other military officers her age were still polite and formal. Hadn't had the manners beat out of them from the hustle and bustle of getting things done yesterday and the resentment from bureaucrats messing with shit they didn't know. “Nice to meet you, Officer. Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard, Systems Alliance Marines. Currently on a long and well-deserved leave.”

He chuckled. “Apparently, and you seem to be itching to get back if you took up bouncing for a bar.” Interesting, he didn't immediately activate the not-staring gaze at her leg that was in full display as she sat on the barstool in a skirt that didn't reach her knees. Or the scars along her arms, her face, her good organic leg. He looked her in the eye. The dance stage lights played havoc with her eyes trying to pick out the color of his clan marks. They may as well be fuchsia as far as she could tell.

She indicated the drink in front of her. “Free drinks, and I can help move people out with my drunk soldier act.” She paused for a moment. “I’m not breaking Citadel law, am I, officer?”

“No, ma’am. Just checking to see why an Alliance soldier is on a long leave, and why said soldier hasn’t checked in with her embassy for two months.”

She swore. “My mother put you guys up to this? This is why I didn’t check in; they’d tell her, she’d show up, start insisting on taking care of me or some other kind of bullshit, and then she’d wonder why the hell I’m not- Why am I ranting all this to you?”

He shrugged as his mandibles twitched in the manner she recognized as amusement. Nine months was a long time to spend on the Citadel, and Humans weren’t quite everywhere yet. “I have one of those handsome, devilishly charming, faces and a voice that can summon the truth from anyone. I don’t know what made the Embassy look for you, just that they are.”

Oh damn, he's a clever asshole. A cute clever asshole. She smiled at his disarming tactic and turned her wrists in a surrender. “Alright, I know making deals is kind of against regulations, but I’m this close,” she held her thumb and index finger very close to each other as she went on, “to catching a hacker rigging the Quasar games to his favor. That’s really why I’ve been bouncing here, C-Sec has better things to worry about than a gambling cheater and a soldier on a long medical leave.”

Vakarian paused a moment, nodded. “Alright. Who are we watching for?”

Well that’s new. He was up for playing along with her vigilante-ish scheme. On the other hand, she was helping to improve the situation of the community by trying to gather evidence for proper law enforcement- shut up, just report. “Salarian. Name’s Schells, I think. Paler face than the rest of his head, but he has spots in the lighter shade. I’d say grey or blue-grey at darkest. Half a head taller than me. Likes to wear red, but don’t rely on that. I think his eyes are green, but the lighting here is difficult enough that I can't be certain what colony color your clan marks are. And if I didn’t know my hair is red, I’d not know it either.”

He pulled up his omnitool’s display and found the Salarian in question. “So, any behavior patterns you know of?”

“He usually shows up when the place is busiest. Easier to slip in and move about when everyone is everywhere. He usually only plays a few games at a time, thanks to Flux knocking over everyone in an attempt to tackle him.”

“Like now on the left?”

She looked. “Well, he’s early. That’s poor form. Breaking a pattern is just as likely to get you caught as keeping it.”

Some yelling, and shouting, from the Salarian, but Schells was cuffed in the end, and Flux was trying to get Vakarian to accept some drinks. The nice officer kept turning them down, insisting he was on the clock. 

With the Volus finally appeased and moving along back to his bar, Officer Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec, turned to Jane. “Alright, we got him, and better yet, he’s now in C-Sec hands for his crime.”

She grinned. “Great!”

“Now you’ll keep your end of the deal.” He laughed as she swore and stopped her celebrating. “Turians don’t forget that easily, Lieutenant Commander.”

And then he led the way to C-Sec headquarters, pausing only long enough to let her glance around the Presidium and for him to point out features and some of the histories of the features. She would later learn he took the less direct route.

“Officer- ah, you found her?” Another Turian, this one older and clearly not fond of tracking down people, approached and gave her a once-over. The dress felt more awkward, with her leg on display, but he seemed to make a point of not really looking at her. Damn it, she'd think Turians were familiar with what dangers are in military life and would know better than to look-not-look at scars like that. Hell, the few Krogan she’s met thought her tale was worthy of being put to song, and while it was flattering, no thanks, I really don’t have the time to listen-

Vakarian moved his hands between the two, breaking her from her mental rant and indicating who was who. “Detective Chellick, Shepard. Lieutenant Commander Shepard, Chellick.”

“Nice to meet you, Detective. As you can see I am just fine, I just didn’t want to deal with Alliance when I’m on nine months of medical leave.”

“Medical leave? Jane! What happened? How are you still standing if you needed nine months?” Captain Hannah Shepard, mother of the Akuze Sole Survivor and mother of the Hero of Elysium, gave Jane a close look-over. Examining every piece of civilian wear she was wearing when out catching a gambling cheater. Likely disapproving it all for practicality, but Jane didn't need it to do more than look pretty. Or sort of pretty. Hannah spent more time staring without staring at the leg and the scars on her arms, leg, and face. At least she couldn’t see the scars along the rest of her.

She paled, forced herself to smile, and locked her legs to keep herself from falling to the temptation that running offered her. “Mother, I didn’t want you to worry, not any more than Akuze already had you distracted from your responsibilities. I just had to have my leg replaced and get used to it all. See? I’m fine. I’ll be going back on duty next week, already booked transport back to the Alliance.”

The Captain crushed her daughter in a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me this? I heard about Akuze but-”

She clapped her arms around her mother twice before pushing her back a step with a smile. “Mom, John needs you more, I think. I trained for being out in the wilds before the mission, but he ran around being a hero in his underwear, armed with a paperclip. I think he needs you to remind him how what he did was more dangerous and incredibly stupid than me being attacked in full armor by the wildlife.” John was going to love his baby sister now she set their mother on him.

Hannah Shepard smiled and patted Jane Shepard’s head. “I was just worried.”

“Mom, you used your military clearance to track me down, I have my Omnitool on me all the time. Next time, just send a message. I have to report to the Embassy now you involved them. Wonderful to see you again, I promise I’ll visit for Winter Festives.”

Hannah smiled and left C-Sec with one of the higher-ups.

“You didn't tell her about your leg before, or did she already know?”

Jane glared at the law enforcer. “Not a word to her about Schells or anything else about my Leave. I'm making my own way, without her name paving it ahead of me. I am earning every accolade, and refusing everything that hints at her influence. I do not need her damn pity or her want to help her poor, cybernetically legged, daughter.”

"I completely understand." The way he shook his head as the elevator to the docks went up made her believe him.

The day she was leaving, her omnitool beeped and sang to alert her to a call coming in.

“What is it, Vakarian?” She listened as he summarized the events regarding the Salarian madman. Busy week. “On my way.”

She ran, shoving people aside with the practiced ease of any N7 candidate until she found the Salarian matching the doctor’s description. “Halt, Saleon, in the name of--” no, not in Alliance space- “Citadel Justice!”

Well, that worked. God, she sounded like some fictional super heroine character saying that. The Salarian turned. Must have been the strange command.

“The name of what?” Strange: 1, Regulation Standard: 0.

She grinned, tackled, and locked him down, even without cuffs. Catching bad guys turned out to be fun. “Vakarian, is this him?”

“That’s him. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll just call this my great send off to the hardest training the Alliance can dish out. I believe, Doctor, this is called ‘justice.’”

The Salarian would have head-butt her if he were Krogan.

Garrus chuckled and helped her stand again. “Glad to be of help to you. I owe you a few drinks next time you’re at the Citadel.”

She grinned. “Alright.”

Maybe she had an answer for Doctor Michel's question.

28 September, 2178

Luna Base, Sol System

18:35 Earth Standard

With her N7 stripe on her armor, the patch on almost everything she wore, her footlocker packed and in hand, she squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “Nope. I am out.”

“But you passed.”

She glared. “I only passed because you all decided that I needed to be fucking rewarded for being at just the right place to survive Akuze, even with a dead leg. I passed this so you lot know I’m not quitting because I couldn’t handle this shit. I’m quitting because I am done with military life. I am done being the great Commander John Shepard’s little sister. I am done being the great Captain Hannah Shepard’s daughter. I am done with being The Sole Survivor of Akuze.”

“Alright, where will you go?”

She shrugged and remembered a flanging voice chuckling, blue eyes behind a blue half-visor, and owed drinks. “I’m thinking security. Or law enforcement. Off Earth, of course. Maybe at a station or something.”

The evaluator looked at her papers. “Your forms say you’re going into the reserve services.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

No more reason to complain, she was still - technically - part of the Alliance’s military, and someone was bound to point out how she’s still scarred mentally by Akuze.

12 October 2178

Presidium Embassies, Citadel

08:15 Local Time

“Well, Vakarian. You’re getting a new partner. Try not to arrest this one, or else you’re out, regardless of family connections.” Executor Pallin did not look like the kind of person anyone would want to irritate.

“Don’t partner me up with someone corrupt then, sir.” Garrus looked the same as seven months before. From behind him, she could see how his hands were having a hard time staying folded behind his back. Couldn’t have been a very comfortable stance to maintain either.

She cleared her throat. “Technically, I’m a C-Sec cadet, but being an Alliance N7 was impressive enough to the bosses that I just have to memorize regulations and can skip the physical training. That and they shot at my metal leg to test my pain threshold. Guess being former military is good in general here.”

Garrus frowned as he looked her over. No, not frowned, he looked her over with an observing eye, like he was making sure she wasn't part of an elaborate joke. Did Turians prank each other? Her uniform was the correct one, right? The red and white stripes on her sleeve were just Alliance standard, but they weren’t exactly C-Sec standard, and no N7 ever left the military for Citadel Security or any other kind of security organization though Jay- “Shepard?”

She grinned, though part of her flinched at someone using her last name like it was her only name. “Vakarian.” So much for being mature and not-petty. “Call me Jane, my mother is Shepard. So is my father. And so is my brother.”

“Alright, then I’m Garrus. Vakarian’s my father.”

“Yeah, figured you two would do well together, with Schells, his elchor accomplice, and Saleon. Better not be a sign you two don’t like Salarians.”

Jane shrugged. “So, where do we start, partner?”

She held out a hand and after a moment of pause on his side, they shook hands.

[ronaldmrashid]

Career Advice For Women: Blaze Your Own Path Instead!

For the past five years in a row I’ve spent time interviewing with companies during the 4th quarter in preparation for the new year. It’s always good to seek new opportunities and have backup plans, even if you never use them.

Sometimes, the interviews turn into fun consulting roles where I spend anywhere from 10 – 25 hours a week helping startups build their online presence. Never have the interviews turned into full-time roles because I just can’t convince myself to go back to work full-time.

I start getting depressed thinking about having to commute, taking orders from people, wasting time in meetings, faking enthusiasm, kissing up, etc. Seriously, I don’t understand how people can survive the daily rush hour commute! Building someone else’s dream while getting 1/30th the amount of equity is a bad deal.

What I do enjoy is meeting new people and hearing their stories about how they plan to change the world. At the very worst, I’ll have made some new connections in the SF Bay Area who might utilize my corporate consulting services or be potential new business partners. And almost always, I’ll have a new story to share with you.

Here’s a recent incident I will never forget. What I experienced revealed an ugly side of startup culture and what some men really think of women behind closed doors. 

A Boulder On Your Shoulder

The second round of my interviews with a life insurance startup involved giving a presentation about what I’d do for them during my first 100 days. I whipped up a 10-page presentation from the consulting pitch material I already had while watching the Warriors blow out the Thunder the night before. The presentation was concise and to the point.

When I got to their offices, the Head of Brand was in the conference room waiting for me. He was a new hire whose resume showed the typical job change every 1-3 years. While waiting for four other men to show up, I asked him whether or not he also had to give a presentation and share all his secrets before getting hired. He said that he did. Then I asked him how long his presentation was given I had a suspicion mine might be too short. I had been out of the work force for so long that I forgot having a lot of fluff makes a difference.

The Head of Brand told me his presentation was 54 pages! Holy crap! It was a harbinger for a tough session ahead.

The CEO, two co-founders, and the Head of Growth finally showed up about 5 minutes later at 1:05pm; the meeting was supposed to start at 1pm. The head recruiter also walked in behind them and told me in a nasty voice, “You’re late,” when I had actually arrived at 12:55pm. She had texted me at 10pm the night before requesting me to arrive at 12:45pm instead. We had agreed on a 1pm time slot after a lot of back and forth already. Was she seriously trying to change it on me again at the last minute? I ignored her text. Have some boundaries please.

I was looking forward to having one of the co-founders in the meeting, a man I’ll call Vishal, because he had a very skeptical line of questioning when I first met him 1X1 during my first visit. Think of Vishal as a guy with an automatic machine gun gleefully firing endless rounds at a helpless puppy just for the fun of it. Without a machine gun, he would run away like a coward if you decided to confront him with your fist.

Vishal had a chip on his shoulder because he was in his early 30s and spent six years trying to get his PhD. He finally gave up for a second time in 2012 and started some random company called Pewko, which he describes on LinkedIn as a company “where you can have meaningful interactions with your friends online.” It’s obvious Pewko vomitted all over itself and didn’t go anywhere.

Then in January 2013, Vishal met up with his other co-founders and started this life insurance startup I was interviewing for. So far, so good. Although, it will be years before there’s any meaningful exit for them, if any at all, since most startups don’t have lucrative outcomes. If you’re in your 30s, went to Cal or Stanford, and haven’t hit it big in the Bay Area yet, it’s understandable to feel inadequate since there are so many success stories here.

I was one minute into my presentation when Vishal started riddling me with questions again. It was hilarious! My second slide was entitled, “The First 30 Days,” and one of the bullet points mentioned me sitting down with everybody to understand what type of messaging they wanted to portray to the world. It’s good business practice to understand first, then execute.

Vishal started asking questions such as,

“How do you plan to scale the content to grow exponentially?”

“Tell me how you are going to get this done?”

“What are the numbers behind your proposal?”

I gave him some answers and told him more details were to come in the following slides. He didn’t seem too pleased. He is the type of person who loves to talk in meetings just to hear himself speak. I suspect he also has ADD.

Then I got to a slide that highlighted an influencer I proposed to hire to help promote their startup. The influencer is a woman in the fitness/yoga/pilates space. My idea was to cross sell using influencers with healthy lifestyles who can promote some of the financial benefits of being healthy. It’s a smart way to capture related topics and rank well online.

Vishal, of course, chimed in with another 10 questions. He was not convinced by my online strategy that has worked for the past eight years even though during that time he was still trying to pass his introductory PhD classes.

This is when the CEO, whom I’ll call Raj, suddenly spoke up. (Note: Raj had walked in and out of the conference room three times by this point to take calls)

He said, “I HATE women! I don’t want female customers. They live too long, which means they pay less premiums for life insurance. They also take forever to sign up. I’ve only got a finite amount of sales people and can’t be bothered trying to hold each and every woman’s hand.”

I was in shock. This life insurance startup’s whole value proposition was all about being able to offer lower life insurance premiums for those who are more health conscious due to a proprietary mortality table they’ve been building.

Now the CEO is telling me he doesn’t want female customers because their returns aren’t high enough to bother?! I felt like I was in an episode of Silicon Valley on HBO.

A normal person who respects women would say something like this instead, “Women aren’t our target customers at the moment due to X, Y, Z” or just keep silent instead of saying how much he hates women and then go on a long rant.

I looked at Vishal, who was smiling gleefully because he could tell I was finally feeling uncomfortable. He was that pimply kid squishing ants!

Then I looked around the room and realized nobody flinched at Raj’s outburst because all five of my interviewers were men.

So THIS is why some women complain about a lack of diversity in the work place. The three main co-founders were Indian men. The Head of Growth was a Chinese guy. The Head of Brand was a Middle Eastern guy. And the statistician was also a Chinese guy. Good luck being a woman at this startup!

The saddest thing is that there are female employees at this startup who probably have no idea about what the founders truly think of them.

The overly enthusiastic head of recruiting is a woman who believes her CEO views women equally. As a result, she has no problem trying to recruit other women for the job.

I also spoke to one of their female employees who is two years out of school. She said she works past 8pm all the time and loves the opportunity. Little does she know that there’s a thick glass ceiling waiting for her in several years due to the management makeup.

Companies give incredible lip service towards hiring women. The reality is that everybody is biased for people who look and talk like them. It is no coincidence ALL the founders at this company are Indian. And it is not a coincidence all their senior management are men too.

Here in Silicon Valley, I’ve noticed that once you a computer science guy comes to power, the workplace dynamic gets off kilter because either the guy was a social loser in school who feared talking to women, or has some kind of chip on his shoulder because no women talked to him growing up. It’s like that friendless guy in high school who can’t wait to go show up to his 10 year high school reunion in a Lamborghini and tell everybody what a success he is.

Blaze Your Own Trail Women!

I think about women’s issues a lot because I have a sister who is a single mom. I worry about how she plans to make ends meet once her alimony runs out. She spent eight years out of the workforce to raise her son. And now, she’s trying to catch up to make it as an illustrator, author, and freelancer.

I also have a wife who went through a difficult period back in 2013. She worked like a loyal juggernaut for eight years at her firm only to be passed up for a promotion when her firm promoted two men a couple years her junior instead. It was total bullshit, especially since one of the promotes left the very next year.

I also felt like a failure because I didn’t properly coach my wife to totally get what she deserves. She’s too nice and reticent to ask for what she wants, and naively believed that good work was all that’s needed to ascend.

The great thing is that we finally negotiated a nice severance package for her in late 2014 to be free with me. Part of the negotiation was receiving her full salary for the last four months while she only had to work two days a week. She also received a nice lump sum severance and got hired back as a part-time consultant 10 months later for 50% higher pay!

I also believe that one day I might have a daughter. Like every father, I want my daughter to have all the opportunities in the world. I fear how other men will treat her personally and professionally. I’m afraid she won’t fulfill her dreams due to some sexist management team who secretly hates females as customers. But if she falls, I will always be there for her.

Finally, many of you are women who’ve shared with me your struggles. I firmly believe the stress from work is one of the main reasons why people are so unhappy with their lives. There’s too much backstabbing, political jockeying, and cronyism to make work a long-term happy place to be. Even harder are those women who are trying to balance their careers and motherhood.

I can tell you how awesome it is to be your own boss. But you won’t really know how awesome it truly is until you give it a go yourself. If you don’t want to go at it alone, find some co-founders who share your same traits and build something together. The entrepreneur hurdle has never been lower thanks to technology. If you fail, you can always get another job.

If you are a woman, be wary of a company with a management team made up of all men. Group think is inevitable when everybody comes from the same background. “Locker room” talk is embedded in many men’s DNA. I’ve played sports all my life and have sat in on all-men meetings plenty of times before in my career, things are not always what they seem from the outside.

Career life is much easier if you can find a mentor who shares your same interests. More often than not it’s a person who looks like you. If you can’t find your champion, move on.

I’ll leave you with a great quote I saw online:

“Job you love? GOOD. Supplement it with a side business.

Job you hate? GOOD. Pays bills while you start a business.

No job? GOOD. More time to start a business!”

Related:

Joining A Startup? Sleep With One Eye Open

Is Diversity Really Necessary In The Workplace?

How To Start A Business: Bootstrapping To Seven Figures And Early Retirement

Readers, do people know that management often says one thing in public and another thing in private? If you are a woman, can you share some things you’ve encountered in the workplace that were wrong? Why do so many engineers have such a massive chip on their shoulders? Is it because they are the smartest people in the room and feel like they also deserve to be the wealthiest or most successful? How would you go about telling other people at a company that management doesn’t fully respect them, without blowing everything up?

In case you’re wondering, there’s no way I will do any consulting work for this company. I’m pretty sure many of the new hires will leave once they realize it’s all smoke and mirrors.

from http://www.financialsamurai.com/career-advice-for-women-blaze-your-own-path-instead/