#if those were evans screams then i know good and well michael was traumatized

[anonbinaryweirdo]

I'm looking forward to seeing the gore n shit icl

[seeaddywrite]

malex + “Please, be gentle with me. I’ll break if you aren’t careful enough.” please! 💕

this one was really hard, because neither of our boys are generally the openly mushy type! but i tried – i hope you enjoy! :) & look, a rare sighting of Alex’s pov on this blog! also, this one is a companion fic to this one. 

warnings for ptsd, panic attacks, self-hatred & an unreliable narrator. 

The thing that no one tells a stupid kid about to enlist isn’t that going to war fucks you up — everyone knows that. It’s broadcast through the media, in television shows and romance novels, and hell, there are even commercials about vets with post-traumatic stress disorder. As a kid, Alex was privy to the more intimate details of what that looks like; he’s pretty sure Jesse Manes wasn’t born with a mindset that allowed breaking his own son’s bones. That, Alex figures, came from what he did to survive during his own tours of duty.

Alex doesn’t like to admit that he’s got anything in common with the psychopath who fathered him, but it’s hard to ignore, lately. As a kid, despite the constant fear that his own father was going to go too far and actually kill him one day, Alex was pretty optimistic. He had plans — leaving Roswell came first, followed by pursuing a music career in a real city, without the small minds that came from small town living. Later, it had been finding a gorgeous, guitar-playing guy to create a life with far, far away from his family and the insanity that seems to run rampant in their genes. Because young Alex wasn’t like his father, or his grandfather, or even his oldest brother. He was sane, and he wasn’t going to get sucked into the violence and rigidity of a military existence chasing aliens.

Military service changed all of that. Some of it for the better — Alex isn’t stupid enough to say that there was nothing good about his time in the Air Force. Enlisting showed him the aptitude he hadn’t known he had for computers, had introduced him to some of his closest friends, and given him the skills and courage he needed to realize that Jesse Manes wasn’t nearly as powerful as he liked his children to think. He’s proud of his service.

Unfortunately, pride isn’t enough to stop him from realizing that not all of his internal changes were positive ones. Some days, when he looks in the mirror, all he can see is the negative — how the circles beneath his eyes tell everyone of his newly complicated relationship with sleep, and how the crutch he leans on constantly denotes weakness to anyone who looks at him. But, more than the physical, Alex hates the emotional changes  from who he used to be. Anxiety has become an inconstant companion, coming and going as it pleases and leaving him shaking and pale for no external reason. Even when he’s feeling stable, it’s so much harder to feel excited, or even content. Every happy moment is constantly overshadowed by the question of when it will end, and Alex loathes that more than anything.

Because while everything else has changed, his feelings for Michael Guerin are still as deep and passionate as ever, and Alex can’t enjoy it. He tries, God, he tries. But every time he thinks he can do it, when he’s confident in his own ability to be what Michael needs, something sparks that same anxiety that has sent him running a hundred times before. Michael kisses him at the reunion? Alex panics when Isobel Evans might find out. Michael takes him on an actual date, in public, and stares at him with obvious affection, uncaring of who can see — Alex lets his father get under his skin and hurts Michael enough that he can actually see the heartbreak in his eyes. One would think that after all that, Michael would punch Alex when he comes around, asking questions about his past and who he is, but the other man still lets him in … and, yet again, despite his intentions, Alex runs away as soon as he realizes there’s a chance that Michael might abandon him. It’s a miracle that Michael doesn’t seem to hate him even now; God knows that Alex hates himself.

It’s a cycle he can’t break, and Alex is resigned to the fact that he’s not meant to figure it out. He works alongside Michael and the others, helping them fight back against Project Shepherd and his father as his penance, trying to show Michael how much he means to him without trampling all over his heart, but some days, he aches with wanting the other man’s arms around him. On the hard days, when he hurts to much to wear his prosthetic and can’t leave his house, or when he’s curled on the bathroom floor, gasping through the aftermath of a nightmare and trying to ground himself with the stupid techniques his military-appointed shrink assigned him before deeming him fit for duty, Alex always has to resist calling Michael. He knows he would come. Of course he would. It’s like a law of the universe: whenever Alex needs him, Michael Guerin comes. So Alex can’t ask, can’t need him, because he’s got nothing to give back.

So the night that the guy Maria has nicknamed ‘Racist Hank’ punches a guy and sends him sprawling into Alex’s bad leg while he’s spending some time with the others outside of working and running for their lives, Alex sucks it up when the immediate throb in his residual limb sends him spiraling. Pain doesn’t always have this effect on him; Alex’s usually as calm and competent with pain management as he is with hacking. But every ache in that leg sends him straight back to Baghdad, to the crash and the adrenaline, to waking up in a German hospital to find himself missing a limb – 

Alex cuts off that line of thinking quickly. It’s not quite a panic attack, not yet, though he knows that if he doesn’t get a handle on himself, it’ll become one. He’s gotten good at hiding his weaknesses behind a mask of competency and detachment, and it works that night, too. Liz glances at him once, from where she leans against Max’s arm, but she only flashes him a smile. Michael, though – Michael’s eyes, as always, track his every movement, and seem to know way too much. Alex does his best to ignore the fog creeping into his mind and the way his fingers shake when he releases the beer bottle in his hands. He keeps up with the conversation around the table for a few minutes, nodding when Isobel declares that they all need more drinks, and smiling woodenly when Max kisses Liz on the mouth – but soon, he can’t manage it. It takes all of his focus to stay seated, to keep his stomach from overturning. His leg aches, though Alex can’t be sure that it’s a physical pain, and he’s desperate to leave before his heart beats out of his chest and shows everyone what a coward he is. 

Salvation comes in Michael’s quiet voice. “Hey, you good, man?” 

Alex wants to answer. He simultaneously wants to insist that he’s fine and walk out of the bar under his own power and to burrow into Michael’s arms and hide there until he can breathe normally again. Fuck. He flinches at Michael’s calloused hand on his, and guilt at the way the other man yanks his hand back as if stung adds itself to the heap of negative emotion in his head. 

Michael doesn’t say anything about that, though. Those uncannily perceptive eyes just watch him as Alex struggles to find his voice, to find any words to get him out of this situation – 

And again, Michael saves him. “You want to get out of here?”

Alex’s answering nod is desperate, and he’s not sure he cares. His breath is starting to stutter, and it’s going to become impossible to maintain any sort of dignity if he starts hyperventilating in the middle of Maria’s bar. After all of his hard work to show his friends that he’s fine, that he came back from war with all of his faculties, and that they don’t need to worry about him, that would definitely be a blow to his pride. And at this point, Alex feels like pride is one of the few things he’s got left. 

Michael turns around to talk to the others; Alex doesn’t know what he says, but when the other man turns around expectantly, he finds himself stuck in the chair. The low-level ache in his leg is still there, and he doesn’t want to stand – he’s not sure he could, even, without help. So, swallowing past the lump in his throat, he waves at his leg in vague explanation and asks hoarsely, “Think you could give me a hand?” 

He’s expecting Michael to haul him out of the chair, and part of him is excited for the prospect – it gives him an excuse to let Michael hold him together, if only for the few minutes it takes to make it out the door. But instead, Michael just puts his hands out and waits. 

It’s harder than he’d like to reach out and take the offer. It’s stupid, since Alex is the one who asked for help, but this – this feels like he’s asking for too much, admitting to weakness. But Alex reaches out anyway, because he can’t fall apart in the middle of the Pony, and he trusts Michael. 

They make it out the door pretty quickly after Alex throws a half-hearted wave at the rest of their friends, and he all but falls into Michael’s chest when they’re alone on the dark street. Alex presses his face into Michael’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of sweat and motor oil and laundry detergent like it’s smelling salts or something. It works – or maybe it’s just the warmth of Michael’s body, and the sturdiness of his muscles, holding Alex up while he can’t quite manage it alone. 

“Hey,” Michael’s voice is low, and Alex can feel it rumble through his chest. “You okay?” 

Alex chuckles, and knows the sound isn’t a happy one. “You already know the answer to that.” His voice sounds raspy, like he’s been screaming – and Alex supposes he has, though the noise has all been internal. 

“You checked out on us during that fight. You faked it pretty well for a while, but I – I could tell something was wrong.” Of course he could. Michael’s always been able to read Alex so, so well. “You want me to take you home? Maria won’t let anyone tow your SUV.”  The offer sounds so good that Alex’s exhales in relief, his pounding heart easing slightly at just the thought of being in a safe, isolated place with Michael. 

“I can –” But Michael doesn’t let him finish, and the accusation that Alex is trying to push him away again, to insist that he’s fine when it’s blatantly obvious that he’s falling apart at the seams, stings. He goes rigid as his lungs stop cooperating, and he yanks himself out of Michael’s embrace, nearly tumbling down to the sidewalk when his weight is put back on the prosthetic. He catches his balance, though, and looks at Michael even when he’d rather avert his gaze. 

“I was just going to say that I can send her a text tomorrow and ask her to have someone drive it to the cabin,” he tells Michael in a soft voice. “I’d appreciate the ride. If you don’t mind.” It sounds like every too-polite interaction they’ve had over the last few months, since Alex insisted they be friends, and maybe that’s what Michael wants. The way he stomps over to the driver’s seat of the truck doesn’t really seem to support that theory, but Alex ignores it and clambers into the other seat, biting down hard on his cheek when he’s forced to use the prosthetic to push himself into the cab. 

Once inside, Alex sits with his hands clenched on his thighs to keep himself from reaching out to Michael as a way to anchor himself. His breath is once again coming too quickly, and he has to keep his mouth shut, because he’s not sure what embarrassing things would fall out of it, otherwise. But Michael isn’t content with the silence, and Alex ends up telling him what happened at the bar, about the panic that creeps up on him sometimes for no real reason. He expects to be swamped with embarrassment, but Michael’s calm assertion that panic doesn’t always need a reason keeps the mortification at bay. 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

The casual question, the offer insinuated within it so easily, makes Alex’s eyes sting. There are a thousand things he could say, each of them dismissive and right, because he has no business dragging Michael into the shitshow that is his life right now, not again. But he can’t stop himself from grabbing at Michael’s hands as soon as the engine turns off in front of the cabin, even when he realizes that the strength of his grip is probably hurting him. He stares intently into Guerin’s eyes, letting him see pat the walls and the facade and into the swirling anxiety and desperation that’s doubling as his mind. 

But letting him in isn’t enough. Michael wants the words, and Alex doesn’t know if he can give him that. “Don’t make me ask,” he begs in a whisper. Don’t make me admit it. Just - please be gentle with me. I’ll break if you’re not careful enough, and if you put me back together, I’ll never be able to let you leave. 

Alex doesn’t know if Michael’s being stubborn, or if he’s finally hit the point of no return with the man – maybe this is when he’s going to get shoved out of Michael’s life, instead of the other way around. He’d deserve it, he knows he would. But he says the words anyway, when pushed, spilling all of his anxieties and unwanted desires when Michael points out that he’s not a mind-reader. His hands shake harder than ever as he speaks, but there are strong fingers supporting them, clasping them against Michael’s chest and holding him steady, so Alex gets through it. 

When Michael whispers against his hair that he’ll stay, that Alex is okay, the latter gives up and weeps openly into the strong shoulder beneath him. The embrace is exactly what he needs in that moment, strong and gentle, warm and soft, with Michael’s ridiculous curls tickling his damp cheeks. Alex isn’t ashamed to admit that he clings, his fingers scrabbling against the collar of Michael’s button-down shirt to get at skin. 

“Easy,” Michael murmurs again, and there’s a hand against his back, rough fingers stroking along Alex’s spine. “I’ve got you.” It’s impossible to disbelieve him like this, with their chests pressed together to tightly that Alex can feel Michael’s heartbeat against his own. He nods jerkily, his own hands finally giving up on the buttons and sliding down Michael’s sides to delve under the fabric and press against the flat, strong planes of his stomach. While normally he’d be appreciating the other man’s physique, this time, it’s all about the warmth and comfort another man’s skin against his brings. 

“You ready to go inside?” Michael asks, an indeterminable amount of time later. Alex’s breathing has returned to normal, and his hands no longer shake – and, most importantly, he can think straight again. 

He nods once, starting to disentangle himself from Michael. The look in the other man’s eyes makes him pause, though, and Alex raises an eyebrow. “You said you’d stay,” he says plaintively, when it’s clear that Michael’s questioning his welcome in Alex’s home. “I’m hoping you meant longer than half an hour. Especially since I spent most of that time ruining your shirt.” Alex jerks his chin at the wet patch on the shoulder of Michael’s flannel, his ears feeling hot with shame. 

“That what you want?” Michael asks, and there’s a wariness in his voice that makes Alex furious with himself all over again. If he hadn’t left before, over and over again, Michael wouldn’t need to ask that question. He would trust Alex the first time – but that’s Alex’s cross to bear. 

“You’re what I want,” Alex says firmly, catching Michael’s good hand in his again. He’s learned his lesson tonight about verbalizing what he wants, and while he fully anticipates forgetting it the next day for his dignity’s sake, tonight, he’s willing to keep talking if it proves to Michael that he’s serious. “I want you to stay with me tonight. In my bed. And tomorrow, too, if you want – you might change your mind, because I don’t sleep worth a damn much, anymore – but yeah, Michael. That’s what I want.” He catches his lower lip between his teeth, chewing at it uncertainly before adding, “Please?” 

Michael leans back and unlocks the truck’s doors, then disappears outside for a long minute. Alex’s heart begins to pound as he realizes that he might have just been rejected – but before he can figure it out, Michael’s back, on his side of the vehicle this time, and opens the door. “I’m thinking pancakes for breakfast,” he says, once both of Alex’s feet are on the ground, and he staring up at Michael, hopeful and confused all at once. “C’mon, Alex,” he finishes, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that, like you don’t already know the answer. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me to stay for ten years – you can’t really think I’d say ‘no,’ now.” 

Alex’s eyelids fall closed for a moment in pure, unadulterated relief, and once again, he tucks himself into Michael’s arms, trusting that he’d hold him upright. Because, there it was in action, the single law of their universe: whenever Alex needs him, Michael Guerin is always there.

[firstdegreefangirl]

It took me way too long to actually get all of this finished, but I used my road trip with @flyawayrachel for a video assignment for my TV class. Here’s that video, which I LOVE ((and that hardly EVER happens when I make things)), and the world’s longest highlights post -- including all three days of the trip, and also show notes -- is under the cut

Monday

Me walking from Rachel’s apartment to her campus because I needed a bathroom. Then the first building I found ((which did have a bathroom, thank GOD, because //someone// forgot to go while I was stopped in LFK)) being the one she’s traumatized about and can’t go into, forcing me to wait for her in a building where she weren’t, just because I needed to pee.

“I placed ‘toilet’ very high on my priority list”

We hadn’t seen each other since like July, so there was SO MUCH to catch up on

Side note: no more of this three-months-separated thing. We missed too many stories and it’s not OK.

Me texting Madison like “this is crazy but come to Denver with us right now today”

When my dad found out we went to KFC for lunch, the first thing he said was “I’ve eaten at that KFC with your mom before!”

That gas station I made Rach stop at so I could take another bathroom break. Y’know, the one with two stalls in one room and NO DOOR, just a little half-wall between them? Yeah, that one.

“Do we like Frank? Cool, I’m on Team Frank then.” In the words of one of my kids, “VILE FRIENDSHIP!”

“There we go, that’s an appropriate Hitler joke.”

“Do … something cute with the maps.” “Out here? Where people can see?”

Me: “This is gonna sound crazy, but let me text my dad. I think we stopped at this rest stop when we went to the Grand Canyon. I remember the museum.” ((closure time: I was right, we did. That trip was four years ago.))

Checking into the hotel on my corporate rate and then dissecting the agent’s check-in skills in the elevator.

Wandering into the hotel next door because it’s the chain I work at and I wanted to scope out the competition.

Then the look on Rachel’s face when I straight up told their agent “I work at another *brand name* and wanted to see what y’all have going on.”

Snapchatting my GM about the hotel we stayed at and her saying “I bet their FD girl isn’t as amazing as ours.”

Especially when she found out that we had to do the lobby wander of shame because no one told us where the elevator was.

Our hotel room had a little curtain separating the bed and the fold out and Rachel was SO EXCITED ABOUT IT ((see the video)).

Watching all of Indoor Boys in one sitting because it only takes like an hour and a half and Rachel needed to see it

How excited I was about the bedspreads being cuter than the ones in my hotel ((theirs are polka dot AND match the towels in the bathroom; my property’s are houndstooth and the towels are just plain white))

Me briefly thinking the bathroom had no door before Rachel saved the day

Rachel wanting a Frosty at 11 p.m.

Which was easily solved, because there was a Wendy’s in the parking lot.

A much harder one was my sudden and intense craving for curly fries.

Arby’s closed at 10, but Jack in the Box is 24 hour and has curly fries.

So off we went.

ONLY THE ONE WE WENT TO HAD A HANDWRITTEN SIGN ON THE DRIVE THRU THAT THEY CLOSED AT 10.

I called another store and the dude was high key judgmental that I didn’t just //know// they’re 24-hours, as if I hadn’t just been betrayed by a store that should have been and wasn’t.

But they did have curly fries, so I got my curly fries.

Also we went to 7/11 so I could try the Captain Crunch Crunch Berry Slurpee. Which tastes EXACTLY like the cereal. You decide if that’s good or not. I thought it was, Rach decidedly did not.

Tuesday

I literally ate just a bowl of oatmeal toppings for breakfast. No oatmeal, just the toppings bar.

Rach stayed up in the room and slept in, so I brought her some yogurt. Only I wasn’t sure what flavor she’d want, so she got both peach and blueberry fruit on the bottom.

OUTLET SHOPPING. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been able to just leisurely wander around a mall and shop? Like without having a place to be at a time and/or a list of exactly what I did and didn’t need to buy?

Sam’s Lunch! ((which was then a total bust when they only had like two samples out))

“So hindsight, the Ulta looks further from here than it did from the highway.” “Yeah, you think so?”

The decision to ramen for lunch, which was then overridden when Tokyo Bowl was only one dollar sign on google and the ramen place was two.

Which was totally OK because the food was both fantastic and inexpensive

The part of the car ride where I caught up with my best friend since I was literally a year old.

High Street being just a little bit too fitting in Denver

The candy factory tour!! I’m a sucker for both free tourism and demonstrations. Especially when there’s free samples involved.

Fun fact: the flavored part of the fancy candy canes is NOT the striped part. It’s the inside layer.

Also that little kid in the group with us. “Do they send candy to Idaho? I am from Idaho.” “Do they help the elves make the candy?”

“Should I buy a whole pound of marshmallow scraps?” “It’s only five dollars.” “Right, but then I’ll eat the whole pound of marshmallows and we both know that.”

BRO-dway!

Me forgetting the theatre sharpie in the hotel room and making you circle back to get it, even if it was only two blocks

Our high-quality karaoke sessions in the car. What we lack in training, we more than make up for in enthusiasm.

Just the amount of screaming when we drove by the tour bus

Circling the block twice before we could get into the parking garage

We stopped at a fun little art exhibition thing between the parking garage and the theatre, literally just because the sign said “Under Study.” Then I looked at Rach and said “well, we always say understudies need more appreciation.”

I panicked as we crossed the train tracks NOT in the crosswalk, then again when we crossed the next set in the lines but I could distantly hear a train coming

((side note: Katie is NOT cut out for mass transit))

Tour bus photos are hard, but we made it work and they’re awesome!

I’m now the proud owner of my very own DEH cast hoodie, which I “conveniently forgot” to take home this weekend so mom can commandeer it until Christmas

Backstory: Katie is both afraid of heights and suffering altitude sickness, which results in lightheadedness and shortness of breath in … oh, I dunno, mile-high elevation

We had an extra ticket and decided to RAK it to someone who was sitting in an upper balcony so they could join us closer to the stage.

Which was/is a great idea, except that it required going to the upper balcony. Via the stairs. So by the time we got up there, the altitude sickness meant I couldn’t breathe. Leading me to step out to the little patio thing for some fresh air – usually slightly easier for me to breathe – while Rach scouted around for people.

Lack of forethought: BALCONIES ARE HEIGHTS.

So the first time I meet our new friend, it’s me zipping up behind Rachel and saying something about how I sure really would like to go back down in the elevator and get back to ground level.

Which we did, because Rach knows I’m like this and she’s wonderful and amazing

That made things … a lot better, and I was able to enjoy having a new theatre friend.

Which was wonderful, and she’s wonderful and that was such a neat thing to be able to do.

The Show

So we’ll start this one from taking our seats TEN ROWS FROM THE STAGE.

We’re gushing about how close we are to the stage and how great the view is and everything when I see someone coming up the back aisle who looks kinda familiar.

“Hey … is that Pasek and/or Paul?” “Nah, I don’t think so. Wait … YES IT IS!”

Cue us freaking out and shoving Rachel to the front of the group because I’m incapable of approaching people.

Long story short, we got autographs from Pasek and Paul, pics with Paul and Alex Lacamoire, and at intermission we got signatures from Michael Grief.

People kept asking us like “who those guys were” and we just went “they created the show!!”

Now this is where things are gonna get incoherent, because I spent 15 minutes gushing out thoughts as soon as the show ended and I got home, and I’m just going to type them out here.

Ben Levi Ross’s Evan and I do the same lil hands on face/neck/ears thing when we’re anxious.

Merrick’s Connor did the same little finger gesture thing I do at work when I give people directions to the elevator in my hotel during Sincerely, Me and I basically just DIED.

BLR’s Evan seemed so much less worldly than OBC, but Zoe was grown up AF

Larry was STUNNING and AMAZING

Tbh I got hella Leslie Knope vibes from Cynthia

Larry’s arms around Cynthia and his hand on her shoulder when they talked to Heidi and literally just Larry

Marrick’s rubbing and then sudden/intense nipple twist in Sincerely, Me

Everyone was SO GRATEFUL we were there to see the show

BLR hit the stage door in this amazing vintage pinstriped blazer. I told him I loved his jacket and I don’t know which one of us was more excited about that moment.

Rachel and I crushing each other’s hands the entire show ((it’s been five days as of this writing and the bruises are just now mostly healed))

Marrick missed a cue and the poor bab looked terrified

One word BLR said gave me like alarmingly intense vibes from the cast album, and it’s something I noticed right away, but now I can’t remember what word it was. But it sounded JUST LIKE Platt, in a very shooketh way

BLR tied the tie perfectly onstage and I’m shook. When I wear my tie to work, I have to get up 15 minutes earlier to have time to get it tied the right length

Jared’s Jared was 20/10. Amazing delivery and fantastic comedic relief

There were all these little costume changes from Broadway, since so many things had been thrifted

IT TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG TO NOTICE but Connor is wearing Evan’s hoodie, not the other way around, and I can prove it.

It’s on Evan’s bed during Anybody Have a Map?

I heard a voice behind me during Act Two, and my first thought was my usual “what kind if imbecile …” But then I realized it was Michael Grief, and like it’s his show, so he can do what he wants.

Same thing when Justin Paul used his phone as a light source so he could take notes on the show.

We mentioned to Arron at the stage door that we skipped two days of school and drove nine hours to see the show and he goes “It’s your life. You gotta live it.”

BLR finished the stage door line before Christiane did, so he passed behind her on his way back into the theatre and 10000 percent patted her ass football-style.

In For Forever I totally thought the original lyric was “life will be alright for forever,” not “LIKE WE’LL be alright for forever” and that hit me harder than it should have tbh

Dude, Larry hit me so hard at the beginning, like he recites part of the letter and it took me until now to realize how many times he must have read it over before that moment

Zoe’s wardrobe was so classy

Evan straight up hugging into Connor’s chest at the end of Sincerely, Me

At the stage door, Phoebe almost fell off her heels and said “that’s what I get for wearing stilts. But I’m out here with all these dudes, like I’ve gotta assert my dominance.

It was a Moment, especially when I replied “I don’t even need stilts to fall down. It just happens sometimes.”

FREE OPENING NIGHT HATS. I’m not a hat-wearer, but this hat might just make me into one.

We made friends with an eighth grader at the stage door, and she was so wonderful honestly.

The three of us referred to ourselves as “trash” and her mother looked so concerned

Post-Show/Wednesday

Rachel and I parted ways as soon as she dropped me off back at the hotel, so you’ll have to hit her up for her Wednesday stories.

But we were at the stagedoor when @crazygoblinfreakoutnoise just texted me like KATHERINE *lastname* so I replied like “can I call you and scream?” because that felt safer than texting her in mass caps while we walked alone in the dark in an unfamiliar city.

Then I woke up Wednesday at 4:30 a.m. ((kinda, I had so much post-show rush that I didn’t actually sleep much at all)) and ate my leftovers from Tokyo Bowl before I called an Uber.

Chattiest Uber driver EVER. It was a 45-minute ride and by the end of it, I knew about his divorce, how long his family has had season sports tickets, why he doesn’t go to the games, all the major highways in Denver, everywhere he’s ever traveled … the list goes on. But he did get me there safe

I’d left hella early because the TSA said Denver was super busy and had lots of delays at security. So I’m to the airport a full 150 minutes before my scheduled flight, full of excitement about being enough of an adult to manage my own road trip travels.

Then security took maybe half an hour. Not even that, but I’ll be generous.

Point is, I had lots and lots of time to explore.

And then they delayed my flight 40 minutes.

So I dropped seven bucks on a cup of coffee, trying to combat the two non-consecutive hours of sleep I was running on.

I did get to see the sun rise over the mountains with airplanes in the background though, and that view was incredible.

By the time I got to board, I really needed to pee, but I didn’t have time, and then both of my row-mates fell asleep before we even took off.

Also we sat on the tarmac for almost an hour. So by the time we landed I REALLY had to pee.

Finally got to a bathroom, and made it out to meet my dad, for a ride back to Rachel’s place to pick up my car.

We went for lunch before we did that, and longtime followers might remember the fries that changed my life back in April. I had more of those, and they’re still amazing.

I had to use two of my last four percent cell battery ((look, it’d been a really long day)) to re-reschedule a test. The plan had been to take it when I got back to campus, but then delays happened.

Happy ending: took the test the next day, set the curve with a 94 percent.