#my italian ancestry is screaming right now

[strongheartneteyam]

this barbie can cook too lol some pasta and tomato sauce with lemon pepper I made for pre-dinner (yes, sometimes I eat dinner two times lol food is awesome and that's why I have a big tummy and fleshy thighs 👁👄👁)

[hesperie-s]

Something has been bothering me in a way I can't quite express, but I want to talk about it anyway.

I recently found a copy of the Schenley High School yearbook online, I believe from the 1948/1949 school year (I don't have a paid Ancestry account right now and they make it a bitch to get info even on sources you previously saved).

The boy on the left is my grandfather.

I was never under any illusions that the North was any better than the South when it came to racism post-Civil War (Schenley was located in Pittsburgh). And I know one photo of my grandfather with his hand on a Black classmate's shoulder doesn't mean he wasn't racist; he absolutely was, but more in the insidious, low-key, background noise kind of way, and in the way that insisted that Italians were superior to everyone else regardless of color. I think what bothers me is my surprise that this photo exists, where my grandfather and this boy were equals at least in title.

It feels like a massive kick in the teeth to the idea that the crowds screaming against integration were, to an extent, a product of their time. Their time apparently included schools like Schenley, and there was ample proof that integration worked and worked well. I think that without realizing it, a part of me thought they were ignorant and operating from at least an iota of fear. They weren't. They knew, and they did everything they did anyway.

I wish my grandfather were still alive. I'd like to ask him about Louis Barnes and what it was like when they co-captained their high school football team. I may not have gotten a nice answer, but I'd have appreciated the clearer view.

[barbiehytes]

tag game

Tagged by my babies @pink-grapefruit-cafe , @buffywhovianpotterlock  💖

Name: [redacted], OK someeeeee lucky people around here know it, but i hatehatehate my name so I make them SWEAR on their lives to keep it secret

Nickname: B , barbie, barbs, binky, Barbara, i LOVE nicknames, gimme one and I’d love you forever 

Zodiac sign: aquarius sun, taurus moon, leo rising, i’m not going to bore you to death about what it all means, don’t worry 

Nationality: mexican, with italian-french or something like that ancestry(?) I’ve never done any test about it, but my last name is supeer weird for mexican standards and we traced it back to Italy 

Languages spoken: spanish and awful english, how any of you understand me is a wonder to me. My favorite is just a mix of the two that we call spanglish. 

What time is it: 03:26 pm pst YES I HAVE THE 12 HR CLOCK what about it 

Celebrity crush: ugh so so many. Cate Blanchett. Margot Robbie, i can’t think of any men right now but there should be some  

Favorite fictional character(s): Blair Waldorf !!!!!!! she’s my queen. I know there must be more but ugh, why do my one braincell always blanks when doing these things 

Favorite musician: Lorde, Lana del Rey(surprising no one), Lady Gaga, and like a lot lot more. but those three jeez, i decided I wanna get a lana and a LG tattoo since I already have one for lorde 

Favorite sports team: ahhhh ok, i LOVE sports. My dad has three daughters so he had to share his love for sports with someone and the chosen one was me. My fave team is the Green Bay Packers. I love the NFL and i like most teams (except the patriots they can choke). I like baseball and basketball but I don’t really have a team that I follow. Soccer I don’t love but I’d watch when there’s an important game like world cup. 

Favorite season: summer & winter! I can never make up my mind between the two and I won’t apologize for it. Fall is slowly becoming a favorite too. 

Favorite flower: sunflowers and chrysanthemums ( i had to ask my flower expert aka sohytes about how those were called) i like peonies too! 

Favorite scent: coffee, the smell of rain, cinnamon and sugar. ocean air. 

Favorite animal(s): cats and bunnies

Favorite food: I have the sweetest tooth: cookies and cakes and donuts. Actual food I love sushi, and salads. And tacos obviously. 

Dream car: I know NOTHING about cars, but like a convertible mustang sounds nice. OHOH wait no, I love jeep wrangler ! (yes i googled that lmao) or like a range rover. I love a tall car. 

Dream trip: Europe Trip - all the architecture I could see!!!!!!! Also NY. Oh and the Greek Islands. Santorini 

Instruments: not a single one! shame. I’ve always wanted to learn piano. 

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: coffeeeee! but I finally started drinking tea regularly after years of trying and I really like it now. But coffee is life. 

Dog or cat person: cats ! but tiny dogs are cute too. but only for like a minute. 

Following: ahhhhh I think like something 600? but my dash is a mess I really need to clean it up a bit at some point

Followers: 1010 or something like that. but we all know half of those are porn bots lmao 

Other blogs: just my main one that’s been around for like 10 YEARS can you believe, I’ve had it since high school and I don’t post much there but check it out if you like: @barbieggirl 

Blog established: 2019

Do you have a tumblr crush: ok I have a friend crush with @artificialortega like, she’s hilarious and has the best meme reactions and I just want to be their friend?  

Do you get asks: yes and i love that!! lately not so much anymore? idk if it’s that i haven’t been that active as I used to or we are just in a random place of mind right now, but i love and adore the ones i get asking for fics or to scream things at me 💖

What are you wearing right now: leggins and a tshirt 

Drink(s) of choice: water, coffee, wine. I’m not a fan of beer, but I’d drink it if I have to. If it’s a ‘we are getting super drunk night’: tequila. 

Number of blankets you sleep with: one! 

Average sleeping hours: 6-8, on weekends I can sleep like 9 or 10 and no I’m not proud of that. 

Random fact: I know I have a pretty pink barbie blog aesthetic, but that’s sooo far off from real life. I do like pink but i go towards more neutral shades in clothes, makeup and things. My style is not preppy at ALL. I love wearing big oversized things and tshirt dresses and like comfy things? So if you are thinking I’m a real life barbie in a skirt and heels I’m sorry to disappoint y’all. 😂

Tagging: I have no idea who already did this, so whatever want to say I tagged you!!!! 💖💖💖

[quickwitter]

WHAT’S YOUR HERITAGE? Where are your ancestors from? How far back do you know your family’s history?

My oldest sister has been doing our family genealogy for decades. She knows way more about it than I do. She’s the kind of researcher who goes in and fixes errors on family trees that are linked to ours. Ironically, I binge watch all the ancestry shows I can find. I find the stories of families fascinating.

My Dad’s family hails from a muddled central European background and came to the US in the 1700s? His family was into logging in the Pacific Northwest (a few of them in the photo below). My Dad grew up outside of Portland. His family was poor and he was the youngest of 8 kids.

Dad’s Family - He’s the little guy in the front, this would be the mid-1930s

My Mom’s family is Italian - ALL Italian, all of the time. I loved being a part of a big loud, loving, screaming, emotional family. But, I would have loved to see her 23 & Me results to see if she was 100% Italian. My Dad was the first non-Italian that married into her family. We spent a lot of time with my mom’s family and almost none with my Dad’s which was, in his generation anyway, much larger.

My grandfather’s family came to the US, and moved to Mississippi where they were farmers. My Grandfather Gino (Luigi) is at left below, the center is Frank and right is Chris. Not pictured is Joe the eldest. A few years after this photo was taken, their mom died, their father remarried and started another family.

The original boys, now out of favor, left Mississippi for California. They lived a few blocks apart from one another in the North Beach section of San Francisco for the remainder of their long lives. My “Nonno” died at 92, and his brothers in their later 90s. They survived a lot of change in their lives and did very well for themselves. Chris for example, shocked everyone when he left several million dollars to 42 relatives, with a very LARGE chunk being dubiously disposed of by his housekeeper, who was the executor of his estate. They weren’t your typical boring brothers, there was disowning, drinking, and arguing over pot that one ‘borrowed’ but didn’t pay for, and that kind of nonsense..all of the time.

In this hip 70s photo below, Right to Left: my Bisnonna (great grandmother - my mom’s side, the one who left Italy as a teen to get out of an arranged marriage)  is looking downright festive in a green plaid dress. She mostly wore black (7 years of mourning per death in the family). Next to her is my Grandma - my Mom’s Mom and one of the loveliest people I’ve ever known, her husband Nonno (pictured above L), oldest sister the grad, Dad in shadow, Mom, and Me with braces, terrible haircut and proving I’ve never been a fashionista.

Why our photos are never centered, I have no idea.

[theliterateape]

A Troubling Hare

by Paul Teodo

I have a lot of problems. Let me restate that. A lot of problems have me. Having a problem is an illusion. It implies I have control over that problem. I don’t. The problem has control over me. When the problem has me it makes sense to get some help, indicating that this problem must receive more help than I alone can muster up. If a medical problem has me I go to a guy who went to school and has a license to cut me open without getting into too much trouble. If a mental problem has me I go see a shrink, or at least a good friend with a ton of patience for my whining or who can look stuff up on the internet and help me feel better. If my car starts jacking me around I go to a mechanic and spend a lotta dough, especially if I have an Italian or German model.

Let me tell you about a few problems that have me. 

BPH. Benign Prostate Hyperplasia. It’s got me big time. Some days I piss 20 times. I know, I’m closing in on seventy and it’s normal for stuff to be going on down there. But damn, it’s a nuisance.

What is BPH? It’s got to do with a guy’s prostate gland. The prostate gland plays a major role in male reproduction and ejaculation. A normal prostate is about the size of a walnut, mine’s about the size of a fucking cantaloupe. 

An enlarged prostate blocks the flow of pee from the bladder to the urethra and when that happens a man becomes obsessed with locating places to piss because he always has to piss. And the problem with pissing a lot is you begin to lose your inhibition about to where to go. Bushes, trees, dark alleys, well lit alleys, Starbucks, libraries, building lobbies, bottles strategically stashed in automobiles, lamp posts, anyplace a dog lets loose, all are fair game. 

So what do you do if this problem has you? Talk to the guy who went to school and do what he says. And he’ll say No COFFEE, and a few other things. I love coffee. But since I quit I’m down to pissing about 10 times a day, and only once or twice at night.

Well done, Doc.

I got more. 

Technofuckingphobia Yes, that’s a real word, except for the F-part, and more importantly it’s a very serious condition, especially in the 21st century, and it’s got me bad, real bad. Ask me to copy and paste, download an app, stream, or how much RAM I have, and my bowels turn to foam, my knees wobble, and my teeth chatter like a naked man perched upon an iceberg. 

And having a cell phone has made it worse. I’ve become dependent on the damn thing; emails, texts, photos, weather, music, directions, how many steps I take going from one stupid place to the next, all have become obsessions. I read a study a few months ago that said the average American, while awake, checks his cell phone every 72 seconds (less frequently when not awake). So most of you have already checked your phone since starting this little piece, or worse yet, are reading it on the damn thing now.

C’mon! 

Was I leading a miserable existence before I spent nearly a grand on a hand held computer that scares the shit outa me? I think not. And my techie friends tell me it needs to be encapsulated in a protective cover,(the difficulty of installation akin to stuffing an offensive lineman into a gymnast’s leotard), in case I drop it, or more likely throw it against a fucking wall when I can’t figure out how to use it, with a special ring tone for special people, which I have no idea how to set, with alerts for everything I’m supposed to do that I would prefer not to. And now I receive texts from people standing right next to me, which for the life of me, despite my protestations, I can’t ignore. 

And to highlight my total lack of control, if I misplace this electronic demon, I panic like a junkie jonesing for his next fix.

And then there’s the Tinnitus. Remember I’m almost seventy. What? 70…Tinnitus. What? Catch my drift?

I am condemned to a constant ringing in my right ear that varies in decibels depending on where I’m at and who I’m with. Put me in a reverberating room with a few people talking all at once (meaning anyone who has a speck of DNA that identifies them as having a trace of Italian or Jewish ancestry dog-paddling around in their cells) and I feel like I’m struggling to awaken from the depths of a coma. I’m foggy, befuddled, helpless, and morose. I lean forward with a twisted look of confusion splattered across my face feeling like I’m in a therapy group facilitated by Nurse Ratchett with Jack Nicholson at my side.

A few years ago I read that bananas helped tinnitus, so I began to consume 4, 5, 6 a day. The only change was the massive wads of hair that began to sprout from my back and the uncontrollable desire to scamper up a tree and swing from its branches.

OK I overplayed it with the tree.

And now, pray tell, I have been stricken with Leporiphobia. This malady is exhibited by a deathly and uncontrollable fear of rabbits. I shudder and become dizzy when I think of or encounter the tiniest of bunnies or a full grown big eared Jack. This condition is a rarity in the medical journals.

However, a point of note; in a 2012 survey the Journal of American Psychology polled 100 professional athletes concerning their fears or phobias. Hands down Andy Roddick, player on the men’s Pro Tennis Tour and winner of over 30M$ took the grand prize for weirdness. Leporiphobia has him! He admitshe is terrified of rabbits. All he has to do is think of one and he panics. Seeing just a tiny bunny brings him to his knees. He’s actually withdrawn from matches where he was heading for the winner’s circle and then regressed into “rabittual” thinking (OK I made that word up but it’s a great fucking word.)

Allow me to digress. 

I met Lydia in a coffee shop; my kind of coffee shop. No internet. People were talking. I was not sure if they were Jewish or Italian. I couldn’t hear. She leaned closer. I still couldn’t hear. We stepped outside. A truck rumbled by. I couldn’t hear. Finally, she stood on her toes, cupped her hands, and hollered.

“I’m Lydia.” I could hear…fairly well. We talked about the theatre and I asked her to a play. We went. We sat in the front. I could hear. It was great.

We went to dinner, a very quiet place. I gazed across the table into her gray-blue eyes. That was greater.

Afterwards she came to my place. It was very quiet. That was the greatest!

After a few of those datey kinds of experiences we wanted to do normal stuff; stuff we were interested in day to day._

She asked, “What do you like to do that is somewhat normal?”

“Bike,” I responded, enjoying her directness.

“I don’t own a bike.” she replied.

“I’ll buy you one,” I said thinking I was gallant.

She said, pursing her lips, her hands perched on very shapely hips, “I can buy my own.”

She did. I liked that.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, “But it’s so hot.”

“We won’t go far,” I said once again, trying to be gallant.

“We’ll go as far as I want,” she said.

“OK,” I said knowing that attempting to be gallant was no longer a good idea.

So I put air in my tires and waited to see if she wanted any.

“Could you put some in mine?”

“I’d love to,” I said.

“Thank you.”

Off we went down a dusty path of crunchy gray limestone; thick bushes bordering each side of the trail.

We came to a clearing in a small town. The bank sign read 97 degrees-1pm. The sun broiled my back, sweat puddled in my navel, and my hands slid from the rubber grips of my silver Trek.

“It’s so hot.” Her voice rose over the noisy limestone. “Are you hot?”

“What?” I couldn’t hear her.

“Hot!” she screamed.

I was near death, my head ready to explode. “I’m fine,” yelling over my shoulder.

“Wait!” I heard her voice. It must have been very loud.

I jammed the brakes, my bike twisting sideways.

We skidded to a dusty stop. She was huffing and puffing.

“Are you OK?” Salty sweat stung my eyes.

“This is your idea of fun? How can you stand it? This is normal?”

“What?” This time I pretended I couldn’t hear.

“Hot!”She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. 

“I try to stay cool: water, and stuff.”

“What stuff?” Her indignant voice rose.

I had to pee.

“Sometimes I take off my shirt.”

“Go ahead. But I can’t take off mine.”

I had to pee more.

“Go ahead,” she repeated.

I removed my shirt.

“Let’s go,” she said. “It’s too hot to stand here and talk.”

We started once again, crunching along the shimmering trail.

And that’s when it happened.

Two dark blurs darted from the brush directly in front of my bike; the one in front larger than the one who trailed. The larger one turned and glared with his devil-red eyes, into mine. And without any notice, he leapt off the ground, a full four feet, and went for my throat. My legs froze. I gasped and choked on my own spit. He was on me screeching a high pitched hideous rodent like noise; fangs gnawing at my flesh, his bristly fur scraping my chin. I yanked my right hand away from the brake and threw him off, his pin-like nails scratching my sun burnt skin. His body thumped to the ground. I jammed on my brakes. My wheel turned cock-eyed and my torso flew over the handlebars. 

I landed next to him; so close I could see his whiskers and his pinkish nose twitching with a sense of evil. 

He wriggled his nose again, paused, and scampered into the brush.

“It was a rabbit!”I think Lydia screamed. While I was aware of that, tinnitus is accentuated in a panic situation, and I needed to pee even more.

“I can’t believe it!”

I could. I lay on the limestone gazing up at her.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You wanted normal.”

She stepped off her new bike, whose tires I had just put air into, trying not to be gallant.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

I wasn’t. I could be extra gallant and say fine. “I’m…” I paused, “hurt. Severely.”Trying to gain some sympathy.

“Oh my God,” she said.

Shards of gravel were imbedded in my tender skin. Bloody chunks of flesh dangled from elbows and knees. My left shoulder was locked tight, conspicuously off-kilter to its twin; pounding with a sledgehammer heartbeat.

“What can I do?” she asked tears welling in her eyes.

I lay there, my fears, problems, and pain running away with me.

My cell phone was shattered. How would I text myself a reminder to buy a new one?

I needed to pee.

But there was Lydia standing over me, offering to help. We met in a coffee shop, my kinda shop. No internet.

My ear ringing like the 3 o’clock dismissal school bell at St. Frances.

“How can I help?” she repeated. 

I thought I saw the rabbit peek out from the brush. Leporiphobia had stricken me. 

“Kill the fucking rabbit.”

She smiled a deep warm smile. She made me feel better.

She touched my cheek. “I will.”

I believed her.

[airysunfierymoonx]

Get to Know Me Uncomfortably Well

Bored decided to do this.

Name: Alexis

Birthday: June 14th.

Age: 24.

Star Sign: Gemini Ancestry/Ethnicity: German, Polish & Italian. Height: 5'0. Favorite Colors: Mint Green, Peach Pink, Burgundy. Place you wish you were at: Anywhere but here. Most beautiful place you’ve been to: Georgia. Dream Trip: I actually want to go to Disney World.. lmao Average Hours of Sleep: Depends. 5-8. Number of Siblings:  3 not including myself. 

Tell me about the last book you’ve read: Well, I read stories on this app where you get to choose how the story goes depending on your choices and lately I've been reading the series "Scream" it's based on the MTV show Scream. lmao I actually like it a lot. It's a horror, mystery story if you don't know. Basically gotta figure out who's the killer. (:

Tell me about the last song you listened to: I CAN'T FEEL MY FACE WHEN I'M WITH YOU BUT I LOVE IT, BUT I LOVE IT. The Weeknd my dudes. It's popish. 

Tell me about the last fanfic you’ve read: Eh, I haven't though.

Favorite type of music: I like a lot of variety of music. I just don't listen to "one" type.. I can go from 50s to 80s. 90s to now. r&b to country. 2000s rock to rap. Emotional shit to like lil john. LMAO.

Do you play an instrument? Nah. Languages you can fluently speak, read and write (not a language you study): Mostly English and like some words in German.  WOE IST DIE TOLIETTE?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What song do you want to be played at your funeral?  UHM. I thought about Your hand in mine by Explosions in the sky BUT there's no words to it.. just something about it moves me to the emotional side.. 

Favorite Sports: I looooove BOWLING. I actually like Rugby. &&&&&&&&&&&& rollerblading if that's a damn sport. 

Favorite Books: Meh... lmao it's all on my APP... my story apps.. Right now it's just Scream that I'm currently reading.. I'm not like a huge book person.. I lose interest so quick.. But what holds me onto these stories on the apps is I get to choose how the story goes.. like what I mentioned up above. 

Favorite childhood books: What's up with all these fucking questions about BOOKS?

Favorite Movies: Here we go something I can answer too decently. Jesus. I like Matilda, Dumb And Dumber, Forest Gump, Fireproof, The Notebook, Halloweentown movie series, Tom And Jerry Movie.

Favorite TV Shows: RIGHT NOW I like Shadowhunters. Other favorites were like.. canceled. SIGH. Canceled shows was Witches Of The East End, The Client List, Devious Maids.

Favorite Anime: I don't watch Anime. Favorite Manga: Don't watch this either.

Favorite Food: Steak. Velveeta Shells & Cheese, Grilled boned Chicken is fucking dank, lasagna, garlic bread. Do you have any fitness routine/ diet plans? I'm about to start going to the gym hopefully sometime this week & getting back on Keto. What You’re Wearing Right Now: Sweats.. lmao it's cold here. Current Number of Followers: 1,000. Number of Blogs you follow: 641. What made you decide to have a tumblr blog: It reminded me of Myspace a bit.. Like the coding and shit on how to do your profile.. I was also curious.. I actually like Tumblr more than Instagram.

Do you have any other blogs? Yeah but I haven't been using it. Describe your personal style: I like to be comfortable in what I wear. I'm a leggings girl. I hardly wear jeans because I feel suffocated asf. Sweats are good too through cold weather. Shirts is like whatever. I can go from like plain no letter shirts TO letter or design shirts.. If I wanna pop then i'll find a way to pop. Just all depends what I'm feeling. 

Pets: 1 cat. 2 dogs. Tea or Coffee: Boooooooooooooth. BUT coffee more. *** ICED COFFEE MORE. Dog-person or Cat-person: Both. Why make me choose you bitch? lmao 

Introvert or Extrovert: Introvert.. I'm actually a quiet person.. I don't talk for the hell of it unless I'm excited orrrrr i'm like intoxicated. lmao

Favorite swear word: Fuck. What the fuck? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? WHY THE FUCK? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID? YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH. Yeah man.

When was the last time you went to the hospital, and what for? IF I RECALL I HAD AN EAR INFECTION SO DAMN BAD THAT I WAS IN TEARS. Went to the ER.

What qualities are you looking for an ideal partner: Someone humorous, witty. Someone who talks more than me because I'm a quiet person.  I mean a balance of that.. I don't want them talking so damn much that I can't get a fucking word in.. That's annoying.  Anyway someone that looks for commitment. Someone who lays their fucking shit down. They don't play no fucking games. Caring. Someone who genuinely listens to me when I actually talk. Knows how to have fun YET knows when to be serious as well. A bit dominating. Isn't so passive with me. Is willing to tell me how they feel. Isn't so clingy but isn't so distant either.

Famous last words: "Be you because everyone else is taken."

I tag: Whoever would like to do this.  :)

[lvtvr]

tagged by @cooldadshiro possibly the coolest dad of all??? thank you <3

Name: charlie

Ancestry: i am White As Fuck™, but more specifically my dad’s swedish and my mom’s american of mostly italian descent

Zodiac: pisces. yeah i cry a lot fite me

Where do you live? suburb of stockholm, sweden, aka far north, aka rainy pisspot,

How do you feel today? actually kind of hyped to do some of the shit i’ve been postponing so i guess time will tell if i get off tumblr succeed!!!!!

Favorite song right now: omg usually i have one but i haven’t been listening much lately sdgjsjg one of the latest i looped was Trouble by Valerie Broussard tho! i s2g its a fuckin crime that that woman hasn’t dropped an album yet oh my goddd

Play any instruments? no :((((( i would Die to learn the piano tho

Craving anything? tbh i feel like i’m always craving something i am a food vortex that wants only to Consume

What is your signature scent? salt probably

Sounds you love: i like white noise, like... gently droning city sounds as proof of civilization kinda?? i just like knowing im surrounded by people i have no obligation to interact with lmao. also give me café ambiance (minus shrieking babies), wind rustling in trees, smooth jazz, and i will be happy

Sounds you hate: construction work, pointless sawing/mowing/drilling, teenage boys screaming into their mic playing computer games (side eyes my bro), mother fucking leafblowers at 7 am, ugh i can feel the bloodlust rising just thinking about it. i’m rly sensitive to noise :( man these are some really specific questions but o well???

tagging @nostalme @konekat @sleapygazelle @daretoweeb @jackalopes-vld @skylocked @majinneda @i-make-no-sense idk no pressure pals but ur all Rad™! if u dont wanna do this just consider this a Friendly Greeting from me to u n have a great day c:

i know some other people have tagged me in other things kgljsdöhjhjfh i promise i’ve seen them i’m just inconsistent and Stressed Out atm but i love u all!!!!!!!

[ramblingsinprocess]

Colonizer

I cringe when the color of my skin denotes this term, reminding me of hundreds of years of oppression that the speaker feels every living moment of their lives… Waking up to the reality of my people’s prosperity grows ice water in my veins, crystallizing against my bones and muscles and skin. My privilege makes me an ample ally, but a false one, because I can go home and sleep at night in a peace many will never know... They could come for all of you, and the odds would ever be in my favor of survival. Sure my less than hetero-norm-cis-rich-mentally healthy life would give me away, someday, but long after your inability to conform would give you away. I can pass, even if the tinny acidic bile gave me a harsh taste in my mouth, I would survive… The tales of conquering warriors fighting for their place in this unforgiving world, gives me pride, inflates my chest and gives me strength. Persecuted faithful sailing into the unknown makes me feel like a survivor. Pioneer ignites my adventurous spirit. The best example of strength based intervention is The United States’ White Supremacist historical account, proving any story can be spun to inflate or deflate the human spirit, this one inflating a majority for generations creating waves of inspiration and entitlement so strong, we’ve lost the ability to fight for anything. Obedient to our masters as long as they say “you’re a good boy, and by the way, those people over there, they burn flags and scream ‘death to America!’ How about you go and kill them?” And like a faithful dog, we do. Our masters lining their pockets with gold, telling us the reason why we are poor is because the color of another person’s skin and the reason they are taking what is ours, and another person’s religion is threatening our rights. Nevermind those good congressional Christians take our rights away all the time and we call that oppression “God’s way”... There will never be healing until responsibility is held. The soil you stand on, whether White House or trailer park, does not belong to you. African slaves built this nation, just as much as the white men who stole it from the Indigenous people that lived here thousands of years before Columbus sailed the ocean blue and enacted genocide for the love of gold, a curse we still have not shed, even now as it has turned green and represents 0s and 1s on our computer screens… So here I give you, my responsibility, I would not have what I have if not for the stolen promises against the Indigenous people of the Americas, or the brutal blood sweat and tears of the Black men, women and children of Africa. From sea to shining sea on the missing limbs of the Chinese and Irish immigrants who dynamited the way from one coast to the other, and all commerce developed that multiplied into all we have today. I can’t even spin how we felt safer by locking up Japanese Americans, stealing their businesses and homes, so we could feel safer during the war, even though German and Italian Americans roamed free. The food I eat and that my ancestors ate, came and comes from the blood, sweat and tears of the Latinx people that built the southwest and all of California before gold made the white man interested in this magical place I call home… How many sorries will make it right? I am unsure, but I hope you read “I am sorry” from me as many times as you need. I hope that you don’t need me to bleed. I hope that if you are ever in the majority, that you will treat me better than my people treated your ancestry. I hope that egalitarian becomes the call of the nation over the pipe dream bell curve mysticism of capitalism, and no further genocide is needed to even the scales before… I am sorry, and we should never forget all those that came before us to build what we have here and the promise that with each civil unrest more of us will be truly free. My hope is that this can occur before the addiction of avarice destroys this place we all yearn to live in, to thrive and dream and innovate in. No hands are clean from the blood that made us. Follow the money and privilege all the way back, and you will see that no one pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, but instead willfully climbed on the backs of those deemed lesser, their boots grinding through the cloth on their bodies as each step up guided them to privilege and power. Those of us in privilege achieve this every single day when we ignore the homeless on our way to work, or on our way home for the dinner might get cold. We don’t notice that we are standing on the backs of others, despite our good intentions and bumper stickers. No one is free of exploitation as long as any person is exploited… I am ashamed we haven’t come further. I am ashamed that when I see fascism in Nazi Germany I can fear and hate it, but when children pledge allegiance to the flag, I get misty eyed and patriotic. The fact we can’t be mindful of our indoctrination is idiotic. Doesn’t mean I don’t love my people, this place and its promise. Doesn’t mean I don’t value the men and women who give an oath to protect and sacrifice beyond their lives for us. It just means I see the price of colonization, the equation that does not equal on both sides. As long as any person is not free, none of us are free and none of us deserve freedom… Amen

[tautittology]

I was tagged by my m8 @trash-and-lordy-lord​ thx <3 

name: Mara

ancestry: Chilean/Italian

zodiac: Pisces

where do you live: Portsmouth, Hampshire 

how are you doing today: hungover but good 

what’s your favourite song right now: Cracked Actor by Bowie

play any instruments: guitar vaguely but i haven’t played in forever

what’s your signature drink: gin tonic or cuba libre

what’s your signature scent: cigarette and leather probably

favourite colour: deep dark red

a sound you love: Keith’s lil goat laugh at the beginning of Sway on the Sticky Fingers LP

a sound you hate: my roommates screaming for some dumb shit 

tagging : @antsinthecarpet @the-beat-girl @johnentwhistle @just-a-lunatic and whoever else wanna do it 

[gtfovacations-blog]

Hiking in the Foothills of the Himalayas

Hiking is by far one of our most favorite activities to do while traveling, especially when exploring beautiful exotic lands. As part of our Hiking around the World series, guest contributor Shaly Pereira from traveltoes85, is here to share with us her experience hiking in the Himalayas.

Trekking in Uttarakhand, India

Ever imagined a place where you can view snow clad mountains the minute you open your eyes at sunrise? Well, I found the perfect place, high up in the Kumaon hills in Uttarakhand, India.

This place – Jilling Terraces – owned me. Apart from its sheer beauty and spectacular views, it also offered that peace and tranquility that is the trademark of lesser known places around the world – those not yet stamped upon by hordes of tourists. Add to this the excitement of this being my first solo trekking trip in India and I was well and truly hooked.

The Train Experience

I flew from Oman (my base) into New Delhi, stayed overnight with a friend and took the early morning Shatabdi Express train to Nainital in Uttarakhand. Let me confess. This was also the first time I was traveling solo by train within India, so I had my fair share of fears. Stepping into the first class compartment though, I felt pretty foolish. The interiors were spotlessly clean and had plush, pushback seats (much better than the low-cost flight carriers). My fellow travelers were businessmen, yuppie backpackers, honeymoon couples and tourists visiting India. That long six hours journey flew by seemingly in a couple of hours, as I was served snacks and lunch (all included in the ticket price.)

The Drive to Matial Village Base Camp

The train chugged into Khatgodam Railway Station at noon and a cab driver from Jilling Terraces met me as I walked out. From here it was a one-hour 15-minute drive to Matial Village Base Camp. About 45 minutes into the drive, we stopped at the Bhimtal Lake, the largest lake in Nainital.

Beautiful views surround Bhimtal Lake. The rest of the drive was all uphill on winding roads with hard mountain terrain on one side and a sheer valley drop on the other. My driver was obviously an expert but that didn’t stop me from having some heart-stopping moments when we approached blind spots or braked to let a couple of teetering trucks drive past. The challenge, however, began only when we came to a stop at the base camp, where my first hike began.

Hiking is not only good for your health – views like this are good for the soul.

Hiking in the Himalayas: Boomer friendly?

The porter/guide who met me gave me a quizzical once over as if to say – “Hey boomer lady, are you sure you’re up to this?” He, I discovered was as nimble as a goat – even with the weight of my backpack on his shoulders, he was off climbing the path that led steadily upwards. I followed and about ten minutes into the hike, I was treated to beautiful views of terraced fields, storybook houses, high mountains and emerald valleys. At first, my stops were simply to shoot pictures, but soon they became more of a respite to catch my breath.

Some of the trails are not for the faint of heart! Thirty minutes later, I faced those typical challenges that all hikers learn to expect. Under my feet was a rock-cut narrow path that screamed for attention. One wrong move and I would go slipping backward. I hugged my Nikon protectively against me and labored upwards, my breathing tortuous and loud in my ears. At a corner I came across my guide sitting on a ledge, waiting for me. He offered me fresh lime juice which I gulped down in a flash. Then I fished out an apple and energy bar from my backpack and after a few minutes rest we were off again; or rather he was off and I trudged behind, munching my apple and thinking alarming thoughts. John Muir came to mind – “In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.” I sure hoped, at the top, along with nature’s bounties, I would also get a comfortable bed that I could just collapse on. About forty minutes into the trek, I realized the forest had thickened around us. No more expansive views now, just rows and rows of thick foliage and vegetation. My guide pointed out varieties of trees and flowers – the blood-red Buransh, yellow wildflowers, Kafal trees, white plum blossoms – in a months time this forest would have a profusion of colors, he explained. The beauty and the silence were therapeutic and as I began to breathe in the pure oxygen I felt a sense of rejuvenation and hope. I didn’t know what I was hoping for, but it sure felt good to be alive. Towards the last leg of my climb, I was joined by two adorable canines from a nearby village who begged to share my energy bar and trekked alongside for a short distance. Finally, after walking for what seemed like an endless eternity, my guide announced we would be reaching in about five minutes.

Jilling Terraces

My first view of Jilling Terraces was partially eclipsed by a magnificent view of the mountains. Directly opposite the property and rising to a height of over 7,000 feet, is the Nanda Devi (bliss giving goddess) Himalayan mountain range. In the glow of the evening sun, the snow-capped peaks seemed to be undulating in a mesmerizing wave – or was I just feeling giddy with relief that I had finally reached the top? Gratefully, I drank the cool water that was offered to me by my gracious hosts and turned my attention to Jilling Terraces.

The views are truly magnificent! The Chestnut House, according to the hotel website, is 80 years old and was built by a Sanskrit scholar for his Polish doctor wife who was pining for the cool climate of her home country. The present decor of the Colonial style bungalow is an intriguing blend of contemporary and rustic design – pretty easy to get lost in the ambiance of bonfires and bookshelves as I discovered in the next couple of days.

This was a welcomed sight for sore eyes after a day of hiking! The rooms are all designed with local fruit and flower themes. I was staying in the Buransh suite, so everything in my room was fashioned after the red Buransh flower, from the deep red lounger to the red motifs on the headboard and the wall art. The vase of fresh Buransh flowers on the coffee table lent that final personal touch.

After a long day of hiking, a comfortable bed is essential!

Just look at that deep red color!

A Culinary Experience like no other

The cuisine of the Kumaon (Mountain) people distinctly reflects their Indo-Aryan, Indo-Iranian ancestry and during my stay at Jilling Terraces, I got to experience some authentic cuisine by native Kumaoni cooks. Everything that comes to the table is sourced from local farmers – simple yet delicious. In typical Asian fashion, there is a deep bond between the heart and the stomach. Crispy Okras tossed in pepper and onions, Red and yellow Lentils immersed in seasonings, Mint flavored aromatic chutneys, Cottage Cheese, and Eggplant delicacies, Chestnut Parathas, Spiced potatoes – all aimed to delight vegetarian taste buds. The meat lover in me found inspiration in Chilli Chicken and succulent pieces of mutton stewed in a copper pot with fragrant spices. The Italian Pizzas and Pasta should have clashed with the Chinese Momos and Manchurian, but surprisingly they didn’t. I washed it all down with the juice of the Buransh flower, which incidentally is a cure for heart ailments. Certain Kumaoni sweet dishes are native to Uttarakhand – Singori (sweetmeat in a leaf), Bal Mithai (Caramalised fudge made from cottage cheese) or the evergreen flaky melt-in-the-mouth Son Papdi. Though I didn’t get to taste it at Jilling Terraces, this mountain region is also famous for its Bhaang (Cannabis) Chutney made out of ground hemp seeds – yes, you read it right.

 Hiking in the Himalayas

At the end of every hike (and there were quite a few) I wanted to plant my own little flag of accomplishment – except I couldn’t muster up the energy to do so. I had heard of Leopard sightings too but was told they were not common. According to my guide, Bedh Prakash, the last leopard was spotted in November 2017, near the villages. He also made light of the threat a leopard would pose, adding that a human was much more dangerous. True mountain logic that. Still, I didn’t want to put it to the test, not when Bedh was only armed with a thin walking stick and a flask of ginger tea. The hiking trails took me through natural paths, dense forest areas, makeshift temples, some steep climbs and sinuous river streams. Kanarkha Hiking Trail: Distance – 8 km, Difficulty – Medium, Hiking time – 6 hrs This trail is at an incline of 70 degrees all the way to the mountain ridge where you are treated to panoramic valley views, terraced fields, and vegetable gardens. The city of Nainital is also visible in the distance. This is also the place to head to if you want to view a spectacular sunset. The Nanda Devi Himalayan Range is always visible – icily stoic and unmoving – as if mocking the transience of lesser beings. To get to the Kanarkha Village, take the downhill path from the ridge and walk for another hour until you reach the simple yet idyllic village. You can meet the people of this village and experience their content lifestyle.

A beautiful mountain top villa in Bhimtal, Uttarakand. Panyali Trail: Distance – 6.5 km, Difficulty – Medium, Hiking time – 5 hrs A comfortable hike with less inclination than the Kanarkha trail, this trail leads you through the thick forest to the picturesque Panayali Village. This is village hospitality at its best. Surrounded by pine and deodar trees you can continue walking uphill and have a picnic at the top ridge of the mountain. A 360-degree view of the valleys around is an added treat.

The most perfect spot to rest and enjoy the scenery! Gaula River Trail: Distance – 6.5 km, Difficulty – Hard, Hiking time – 8 hrs This is a strenuous hike and only experienced hikers are encouraged to walk this path. Once you get to the Panayali Village, continue downhill until you get to the gently flowing Gaula River. Chirping birds, Perennial streams, cascading waterfalls and clear natural pools are in plenty, however, the rocks that lead to these water bodies are slippery and caution is advised. Once you get to the pools, you can take a dip (not during monsoons). This is where you feel thankful for the packed lunch and refreshments carried by the guides.

It was a nice treat to see the trees in full bloom!

The Return of the Lone Traveler

When I finally bid goodbye to my mountain retreat, it was with a sense of deep self-actualization. I had found the colors of my spirit in those deep forests, walking alone through crooked paths, where everything seemed straight, through misty weather, where it was all crystal clear, in the dead of silence, where I heard everything and on paths strewn with dead leaves, where I felt completely alive. My return trek down to the Matial Village was done in an easy 45 minutes. Again a drive and the 6-hour train journey back to Delhi. I was briefly disoriented as I stepped into the bedlam of Delhi traffic at 9.30 pm – honking cars, screeching tires, dodging auto-rickshaws and the jostling impatience of people all headed somewhere. My peaceful time up in the mountains seemed like a dream. Inescapably, I was now reconnected to life. Photography by Shaly Pereira Read the full article