#my synagogue is pretty cool

[pargolettasworld]

Hooray! My rabbi just asked me to lead the Torah service for the first day of Rosh Hashana, and I asked him if I could use a solo version of this new-to-us, very grand nineteenth-century setting of Psalm 24. And he said yes! I get to sing this on Rosh Hashana! It's so cool, over the top in the best way that Rosh Hashana music can get, and then the dance section at "Se'u sh'arim" just brings it home. And I get to sing it!

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Kate Kane makes an impromptu visit to talk to her favorite cousin, Bruce Wayne... While he's on a date with Selina Kyle. Isn't she so considerate? (excerpt for future chapter about them going to bar mitzvah):

Kate casually walks past the tables of a high end restaurant, a few patrons noticing hee unkempt attire. She makes her way to Bruce's table.

Kate: Cuzzo, you won't-

Bruce: How did you get in?

Kate: I told the guy up front I was your disgruntled mistress and I'd stab him if he stopped me from confronting you.

Kate and her cousin look at the nervous reservation man.

Bruce let's out a long sigh, covering his face with his hands.

Selina: So I'm not the other woman? Cool.

Selina takes a sip of her wine.

Kate: Love your dress, Selina. You dumping him soon?

Selina laughs.

Selina: You're not my type.

Kate: He is?

Bruce: Hey, so why are you actually here? To embarrass me? Because it's not going to work.

Kate: I have to try harder, well anyways I got a few things wrong about our cousin Linda's son's son BAR not Bat mitzvah. First, I got the name wrong, apparently the girls have a bat mitzvah.

Selina: Linda was the one who stabbed her husband with a poker from the fireplace?

Kate takes Bruce's wine glass and sips from it.

Kate: No, that was our great aunt Susanna, Linda was the one who hit her husband with a car.

Selina: After he slept with her sister?

Kate: That's the one. Wow, cuzzo she's a good listener.

Bruce has his head buried in his hands.

Bruce: She said she'd do the same to me.

Selina: I said it was on a list if you ever betray me.

Kate: I love you a little bit more every time you say something like that.

Selina: Aww thanks.

Bruce: Can you just say why you're here!

People from nearby tables stare at the three with Bruce blushing in embarrassment.

Kate: Right, okay so the BAR not bat mitzvah is going to be at that event hall that's near the lake you took Damien to for the summer, the color for the outfits are blue because Linda, crazy woman she is, demanded it and her son is terrified of her, so get a blue suit and what else... Oh Lenny will be there and he's a vocal batman truther.

Selina: Batman truther?

Bruce: They think Batman is a mystical entity and that's why he- not me- is always lurking in the night.

Selina giggles, sipping from her wine.

Bruce: It's not funny because he won't shut up about it.

Kate: It's pretty funny. Hey, Sel, you should go with us. Then cousin Linda will ask you a bunch of evasive questions about your criminal past, it's a good laugh once you realize she's... Batshit insane.

Selina: I am free-

Bruce: No, no, you are not coming. Kate leave. Thank you for the information but I need you to go!

Kate: I think I successfully embarrassed you and you're welcome. Remember in two weeks we go to synagogue. I know churches scare you because you're a baby, but at least try to step foot in this one.

Bruce blinks with contained anger not responding.

Selina: That means he'll do that.

Kate: Good and it's at 3, but we'll be arriving late. I'll take this steak from ya as well.

Kate takes the plate Bruce was in the middle of eating. He accepts it with a disgruntled look.

Kate: Oh and this-

Kate slaps her cousin against the face with enough force he falls to the ground.

Bruce: What the fuck!

Kate: I LOVED YOU, YOU BASTARD! YOU CAN HAVE HIM, HE'S BROUGHT ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF!

Selina (playing along): Yes get out of here, he's mine.

Kate: Good riddance.

Kate dramatically leaves as Bruce recovers and sits back at the table. The patrons look on with different reactions, some shocked, some disgusted with Bruce Wayne being a cheater and about two old men nodding in approval.

Selina: She is such a delight.

Bruce, groaning.

Bruce: She took my steak! Dang it.

Selina: Want my salmon, I'm full.

Bruce: I appreciate that, thank you.

First part

[brostateexam]

Have not been saying much for a while because everything is hard.

I. My BiL has had c diff three times now and after the third time the oncologist decided to take a damn the torpedoes approach because they were wasting weeks that should have been devoted to chemo because he was too sick and too weak to withstand outpatient treatment. I haven't seen him irl since December but my mom says he looks rough and if his immune system is so messed up that he keeps getting c diff idk that I really want to visit him. What if I get him sick?

All of this is background to me, though, because mostly I'm invested in my sister. She wants to divorce him. He needs to be better enough that she won't face ostracization for doing so. I am invested in him getting better enough for that to proceed for her sake.

II. Something about my relationship with my mom has been bothering me and I finally figured out what it is: everything is equally important to her. She doesn't prioritize anything. If I am having a tough time and ask for help she'll say "well I'm busy every day this week but I can come over next week in Thursday for ninety minutes" and then when she comes over I ask her what she was up to, both to make conversation and because I'm nosy, and it's like... she volunteered for a clothing drive at the synagogue. She went grocery shopping. She went to a farmer's market. Thanks for fitting me into your schedule, I guess! Glad to know I am on the same level as farm fresh tomatoes.

III. I have been having a really tough time of it for the last few months. The vacation in Mexico was... Not restful. Shane had a seizure on the plane and I spent the first two days managing logistics related to that (and navigating the extra ~$2k I spent covering his medical costs while on the trip). His back is still fucked up almost two months later and so I get to do extra housework and chores because he can't lift or bend without being in pain.

IV. Resultant to III, I had a really awful period of about a month with an online friend who started being super short and terse with me because I've been around online less. It was really clear he felt like I was ditching him to go hang out with my cool friends or something, instead of the reality of the situation: I'm cleaning litter boxes and doing yard work and changing the sheets on the bed aka #livingthedream. I told him about all the stuff that was going on but it was clear he didn't believe me or resented my absence nevertheless. This came to a head with me basically texting him an essay about why he was being a bad friend. In a turn of good news, he listened, and apologized, and we mended fences. That was nice because I just don't know how much more bad news I can take right now.

V. I've been struggling with work but really it's just. My boss. My coworkers like me. My project sponsors like me. My skip level likes me. My exec likes me. It's just him. We don't have a good relationship and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know that it is fixable. This is a problem because this is the guy I need in my corner to advance my career and I don't know that he'll do that for me. The alternative is leaving my company, which sounds attractive on paper but in practice the job market is so so bad and it's just so discouraging. The idea of a new job sounds incredible. I wish I could do that. Maybe even a career change.

VI. Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen because of financial pressures. NGL, as much as I like my house (and I do -- I love its little windows, I love my pink dining nook and green bedroom, I love the mature fruit trees and pretty backyard full of wildflowers), I wish i had the cash in hand, instead. I feel trapped here, and like I'm making the most of it. That's a shit feeling to have.

VII. I've started regaining weight. Not a lot. Fifteen pounds since October. But it's scaring me. It's making me wonder if this whole surgery thing was pointless because I can't seem to stop myself from wanting to eat myself to death. So I'm trying to beat it back without resorting to "diet culture behaviors" (read: disordered eating) and that's tough.

There could be a separate post for things that are going well perhaps, but this is what's going not so well and it feels like a lot. Sometimes it feels like too much.

[tachypodion]

18 things I love about being Jewish

we are encouraged to question things and to have an understanding of why we do what we do

challah is delicious and I get to eat it (theoretically) every Friday night and Saturday

...speaking of which, I think it's pretty great that our days start in the evening because then I get to start my day off with rest and rejuvenation!

back to the challah note, I love that it gives me a great reason to learn to make bread and all other kinds of fun cooking and baking that connects me to my ancestors

learning in general — Jewish culture values learning so much and it makes for such great opportunities and conversations, and I never feel out of place being a person who loves accumulating knowledge for knowledge's sake!

we have a holiday almost every month of the year, and the one month where there are no holidays is nicknamed "bitter" specifically because it has no holidays

our new year is in the beginning of the fall, usually right around the same time that the school year starts, so all the new beginnings happen at the same time

"Bubbie" and "Zayde" are way more fun to say than "Grandma" and "Grandpa" and also provide me with a really cool opportunity to use the language my ancestors did in every day life!

the opportunity to develop a bond across generations that comes with the teaching of Torah skills in preparation for b'nei mitzvah, and the leadership opportunities given to teenagers who go from student to teacher

the inherent willingness to consider multitudes that is exemplified in the age-old saying "three rabbis, four opinions"

the fact that I don't need permission from anyone to believe what I believe, and personal beliefs are secondary to community for many people especially when it comes to relationships with divinity. looping back in #10, many of us hold multiple conflicting beliefs, sometimes at the same time!

our holidays are treated as holy days and the commandments we follow require us to pause and reflect and devote our time to being in the moment and considering the meaning behind the day

we have a commandment "shmirat haguf" that requires us to care for and protect our health and wellbeing, making self care an imperative for those who follow the commandment — this also instructs us to prioritize our safety above following other commandments such as keeping kosher or observing shabbat

the focus of our practice and belief systems is on the living world and not the afterlife, which means both that i can use my religion as a way of grounding me in the present and that i get to use my imagination when thinking about the fates of my dead loved ones

even though we may disagree about significant aspects of our practices and traditions, having Judaism in common with someone is always a rich vein of bonding when making new connections, and it also helps set us up for success in having relationships with people we disagree with about things!

Hebrew gives me a common ground language with every Jewish community in the world, so even if I don't speak a single word of the local language if I find my way to a synagogue I know I'll be able to communicate and be welcomed and understood

the unique blend of resilience and good (if dark) humor embedded in our culture that comes through in quips like "they tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat"

the blessing of community and cultural continuity that allows me to feel connected in perpetuity with a collective entity larger than the sum of its parts and fills me with warmth and confidence in the knowledge that we will outlive them

[copperbadge]

[ID: A photo of the fountain in the Piazza Della Cinque Scole, featuring a gorgon head on the fountain, water visibly falling, and a bird perched on the rim, bathing and getting a sip of water.]

Okay, well, Piazza Della Cinque Scole is a lot more complex than I anticipated when my dumb ass walked into it looking for a place to eat a macaroon.

I didn't know when I booked my room that I was on the edge of the historic Roman Jewish ghetto, but when I found out later, I did somewhat plan a day around it. The idea was to go to the kosher bakery I'd heard was really good for breakfast, then stroll up to the Great Synagogue of Rome and do the museum and synagogue tour, and I have reservations for a late lunch at a historic local restaurant to try the Jewish fried artichokes (and obviously also now the Grandpa Balls, for those who saw the earlier post). I had wanted to attend Kabbalat Shabbos on Friday, but I got into Rome far too late, unfortunately.

What I didn't expect when I walked into the Museuo Ebraico di Roma this morning was for the first placard I read to explain to me that the Cinque Scole were the five distinct cultures of Judaism that one of the Popes crowded into the ghetto and furthermore that eventually they all were housed in one building, because all the Jews of Rome were only allowed one place of worship. So that's simultaneously even more awesome in re: imagine the shouting, and also an unavoidable and terrible aspect of the persecution of Jews in Europe. But yeah, it turns out the little plaza where I ate breakfast is hugely historically important to Roman Jewish history.

Good start to the day, actually; a lot of my most meaningful encounters with Judaism come from coincidence, which is the kind of chaos I just live in. And then I got to see the Great Synagogue, which certainly is a lot. It's a gorgeous building inside and out, but our tour guide told us that it was designed by gentiles because the Jews had no architects at the time (probably to do with being forbidden to own their own houses) so it's very, uh, unusual. It seems to be (both visually and from the tour guide's speech) that the architects basically said "Let's make a church that's, you know....exotic," and the result is a very pretty synagogue that looks like it's also a basilica and an art deco hotel lobby, all at the same time.

I have a couple of minutes before lunch reservation so I thought I'd come home and drop off the souvenirs I bought; getting to the restaurant should be fairly easy if I take the alleys instead of the main streets as planned. This whole area is basically wide alleys that occasionally open into interesting courtyards, but aside from some areas that are barricaded off from cars, they're also city streets -- cars and motorcycles drive through them all the time, and it will be a miracle if I get out of Rome without getting pasted into a wall by a Fiat. (Most of the cars on these alley-streets are Mini Coopers and I figure if a Mini Cooper tries me I can just kick it onto its side.)

I found a super cool Jewish antique store near the museum, so I bought a lovely almond-blossom brooch for Mum for mother's day and a khamsa bracelet for myself, and also a fidget ring inscribed in Hebrew that I'm pretty sure has the traveler's prayer on it but I'm going to need to check next time I've got Sefaria open.

[saltchipfishshop]

Vegan Passover Pecan-Banoffee Pie: my magnum opus

I set out with a dream. An impossible dream. To create a vegan dessert for my synagogue seder that was also kitniyot-free. Did I have to do this? Not really, my shul allows anything vegan, vegetarian or pescatarian that doesn’t have chametz, and we have a section for kitniyot. Am I vegan? No. Do I even keep kosher for Passover myself? Also no. But, you see, I have an almost pathological need to feed as many people as possible, and I am intractably stubborn, so once I realised how difficult this was going to be it only made me dig my heels in further.

It turns out to be borderline impossible to find vegan substitutes for pretty much anything that don’t contain soy, oats, cornflour, chickpeas, or some sort of forbidden legume. Subsequently this recipe is heavily reliant on coconut milk; luckily for me I live in an area with a large Muslim population and it’s currently Ramadan, so tins of coconut are front and centre of every supermarket display.

It’s taken almost a full month of trial, error and meltdowns in the butter aisle of Sainsbury’s, but I finally did it. I had to cobble bits of the recipe together from half a dozen different sources, so I feel relatively justified in calling this my own invention. The pecan crust is borrowed from a Tori Avey cheesecake recipe, I just swapped pistachios for pecans. I really think the crust is what makes it, to be honest. You could probably skip the ganache layer if you can’t be bothered, I just feel like it helps cut through the sweetness.

Recipe under the cut. Please please tag me if anyone decides to make this! I would be so delighted to see it out there in the world.

Crust

84g (⅔ cup) pecans

84g (⅔ cup) pecans

84g (⅔ cup) pecans

60g (½ cup) matzo meal

66g (⅓ cup) granulated sugar

71g (5 tbsp) Kosher for Passover vegan margarine (Rakusen’s Tomor*), melted, + extra for greasing

Pinch of salt (optional)

Ganache

113g KFP vegan dark chocolate (Lindt Excellence 70%, Green & Black’s 70%, Green & Black’s cooking chocolate are all KFP)

113g coconut cream/full-fat coconut milk

A few drops of vanilla extract (optional)

Caramel

200g caster sugar

100g KFP vegan margarine (Tomor)

200g coconut cream/full-fat coconut milk

Whipped cream

200g coconut cream/full fat coconut milk, kept in the fridge overnight

15-45g KFP icing sugar (check it doesn’t contain maize starch. You could probably omit the sugar and leave the cream unsweetened if you can’t find it, or grind your own- there are recipes for Passover powdered sugar online.)

¼ tsp vanilla extract

3-4 bananas

cocoa powder or grated chocolate to serve (optional)

chopped pecans to serve (optional)

Method

Make the caramel. Place the sugar into a medium / large saucepan. Place the pan on the hob over a low heat. Allow the sugar to melt, this will take around 5-8 minutes. Don’t burn the sugar! Make sure to stir constantly to prevent burning. You can use a wooden spoon or heat proof spatula.

When all of the sugar has melted and is a golden / amber colour, add in the margarine. Be careful, as the sugar is very hot. Remove the pan from the heat and stir to combine. Allow the margarine to melt into the sugar. It might bubble but that's fine. Once it’s combined, it might have a thick consistency. It might look like the margarine isn’t mixing with the sugar, but it should combine once you add the cream. Now add in 200g coconut cream. It will steam and bubble again so be careful.

Add the pan on the heat and allow to simmer for 3-5 minutes to help thicken it up.

Remove the pan from the heat. Set aside to cool for 30 minutes, then transfer / pour the caramel into a heat proof jar. Place the jar into the fridge. Allow to chill overnight. The coconut cream for the whipped cream should also be kept in the fridge overnight, to encourage it to separate and firm up.

If the caramel separates overnight, use an electric whisk to combine into a smooth consistency until there are no remaining lumps. It’ll be a more custard-like texture but still delicious. Keep caramel in the fridge until needed.

Make the crust. Preheat oven to 180˚C. Grease a loose-bottomed tin with margarine and line with greaseproof paper.

Blitz the pecans in the food processor until finely processed. Add matzo meal, salt and sugar and pulse until the entire crust is uniform in colour. With the processor on, drizzle the melted butter into the machine.

Once all the butter has been added, turn the processor off and dump the wet crumbs into the bottom of the lined pan. Using the back of a spoon, press the crumbs evenly into the bottom and up the sides of the pan (it doesn’t have to go all the way up, just as much as you can).

Place the crust in the oven for 8-10 minutes, or until the edges of the crust start to brown a bit and smells fragrant. Leave crust to cool for about ten minutes and then transfer to the fridge to finish cooling.

Make the ganache. Finely chop the chocolate and put in a medium-sized bowl. Put 200g coconut cream in a microwave-safe bowl and heat in the microwave for about 1 minute, watching to make sure it doesn’t bubble over.

Pour the warm cream over the chocolate chips and let sit for 2-3 minutes. Don't stir yet.

After 2-3 minutes, whisk the chocolate/melted coconut milk until smooth. Add vanilla if desired. Let cool in the fridge for around 30 minutes.

Make the whipped coconut cream. Chill a mixing bowl in the fridge for ten minutes (you can do this while the ganache is cooling to save time). Put 200g coconut cream (the thick white part, not the clear liquid) in the chilled bowl. Beat for 30 seconds with an electric whisk until creamy. Add vanilla and icing sugar and mix until creamy and smooth – about 1 minute. Avoid overwhipping because it can cause separation. Taste and adjust sweetness as needed.

Carefully run a knife around the edge of the crust tin and remove the crust from the tin.

Spread a layer of the cooled ganache over the bottom of the crust. Top with a layer of sliced banana and return to the fridge to set for ten minutes.

Add a layer of the caramel, another layer of sliced banana, and return to the fridge for ten minutes again.

Top with the whipped cream (I like to leave the edge of the bananas visible around the edge). Dust with cocoa powder or grated chocolate and add chopped pecans if desired.

*Tomor contains sunflower oil, but sunflower oil is not considered kitniyot in England: https://www.kosher.org.uk/article/sunflower-oil-kitniyot

[wonderlandleighleigh]

So its early but I'm on Tumblr, and like.

You know. Saw a post. Like you do.

And it's about appropriating Jewish mythology and symbols and terms. And there is so much "DON'T DO THAT" in the post.

But I think the post gets it a lil wrong. What we're really looking for is respect. Respect our things. Our culture. Or symbols. They're not Happy Meal toys. Make some effort.

I saw a lot of comments on the post saying that people had never met a Jewish person, and that we are "professional victims."

Well hello. I'm a Jewish person, and we've been run out of more countries than you've had hot dinners, so we're more like professionals at getting the fuck out of places where people want us dead.

Let's do an edit!

Golems: if you're going to use them in your fantasy, please treat them with respect. They're a mythological creature borne out of the desperation of a people constantly on the run from assholes trying to burn down their lives, and thought of as protective. Don't use them as a weird monster. It's easy to find the lore. Read up.

Kabbalah: is so much stranger than you know, and worth doing research on. Please be respectful if you intend to use it in a story, or even try to practice it.

If it's Hebrew and it doesn't have anything to do with Judaism...man that is a weird one. Cuz it's our religious language but also people who aren't Jewish live in Israel and speak Hebrew but this one feels funny.

The Star of David: it's not a pentagram. It's not a generic symbol. It's pretty specifically Jewish. Sometimes it gets worn by people who want us dead? Uncomfortable.

Goy: isn't considered polite but is more polite than "fuckin goy" which I sometimes use when some goy is being a terrible asshole.

Lenny Bruce had a whole bit on this one:

Gentile: less rude. You non jews are just gentiles.

Antisemitism: that funny feeling in your bones when you know someone either doesn't like you because you are Jewish (those fuckers who wear the "6 million was not enough" shirts. IE; Hitler shoulda kilt more Jews), or when someone says shit like "you guys control the banks so I bet you'll get all 7 days of Passover off soon enough." We don't control the banks. I fucking promise. We don't control shit. Whatever power white Jewish people might have is allowed by the white gentile power structure and can be easily taken away.

When the big orange goy was president, and employed Steven Miller (Jewish. A piece of shit) I used to tell people that "we'll all wind up in the same train car anyway. He's no safer from the hate than the rest of us." I'm still right.

The word Jew: context matters. "The Jews" is an easy shorthand. The Jewish People takes longer to say. One time in a bar, in Mississippi, the director of another department from work pointed at me and yelled "JEW!!!" and that felt.

Bad.

It felt bad you guys.

1. Being singled out for what you are feels bad.

2. Mississippi feels like a place you don't want to be singled out for being Jewish.

3. "Jew" often gets bent into "jewy" which is derogatory. Women were sometimes called "jewesses" which was a little like being called a witch they wanted to burn at the stake.

Probably safe bet to just say Jewish People.

We've been around a long time, but there aren't a whole of us left. But we also come in all different types. A bunch of us are white, but some of us are Black or Latinx or Asian or Middle Eastern. We don't agree on any one way of doing things and we have a lot of opinions and sometimes some dude wanders around The Rockaways in New York with a machete looking for the closest synagogue because Kanye told him we're all evil.

We are constantly on the lookout for people who don't like us because WE KEEP FINDING THEM. Like sometimes you think somebody's cool, but it turns out they think we have horns and eat white Christian baby blood.

For the record, white Christians don't season their food, so that shit is too bland. Not enough dill. We'll pass.

But yeah. Just some thoughts on my culture. Thanks for reading.

[noa-nightingale]

Alrighty, I finally have time to sit down and write about Friday. :)

I went to my very first Shabbat service on Friday and it went great. I was there on time and the security people knew I was coming. I had already been to the synagogue outside of services so I wasn't as intimidated as I probably would have been otherwise (new places are scary to me).

There were not many people - I was told that there are normally more people on Friday evening than on Saturday morning so I expected there to be more, but there really were not. I kind of sat alone because many of the chairs were empty.

Nobody really made a fuss about me which was honestly kind of cool. I struggled a bit with following the service but was mostly able to at least manage to stay on the right page (except for one time when I became really lost and had to turn pages for quite a while until I found my place again).

I did not really sing with the others, I just... kind of uttered a timid Amen at the right places. It was so beautiful being there. I have to admit that I was nervous the entire time, and trying not to make any mistakes, but it was just so good being there.

The person leading the service also talked for a bit about the Purim story.

After service, there was a kiddush and we ate together (there was grape juice for the people who did not want to drink wine, including me because I don't drink alcohol ^-^). The challa was one of the best things I have ever eaten.

I was introduced briefly, answered some questions (mainly about the reason I was there) but most of the time I was quiet and listened. I think I was pretty awkward and probably could have talked more but I must have done something right because at the end I was told that I can come back any time I like. That's still wild to me tbh - I was kind of dumbfounded when I was told the first time and it still surprised me the second time for some reason. It's like... you want me here??? Wow.

I could have sat there and listened to people for ages, to be honest, but at some point the conversation turned to something that seemed more intra-community (for lack of a better word, I don't really know how to say this) than the conversation before, so I decided to leave. It did not feel out of place because some people had already left, and I did not want to make things awkward by just sitting there and listen.

I want to go back. I really really want to. I don't know if I can go next Friday (mainly for financial reasons since I have to go there by train/bus and I don't think I can do that a lot, I just can't afford it) but I definitely, desperately want to build some sort of relationship with that community.

It was beautiful. It was overwhelming and I was awkward and full of anxiety but it was beautiful. I loved the songs, I feel good there, I loved listening to people talk. It did not shake my world to the ground, so to speak, but it made me feel content and good. I just really liked being there, and judging from the reaction (as best as I can because, y'know... the 'tism), maybe people liked me being there as well.

[welldonebeca]

The Ways of Fate - Part 1 (PDF)

Summary: You had always craved for adventure on the open road with nothing to tie you down. You never expected to allow a night of passion from a Stanford Student with cute dimples and puppy dog eyes to become one of the most important moments of your life. The night began with you as complete strangers, but none of you expected what the meeting would really mean for the rest of your lives.

No one had paid a single drop of attention to what you and your band were singing, and nothing would take that theory out of your head. Palo Alto was a nice town, and today was one of those days that the Stanford students were celebrating or nursing their sorrows over their grades in a bar, and just wanted some loud music to accompany it - and that’s basically what Revival, your band, did that night. You were paid shit, sure, but food and drinks were free, and it was enough for the gas you’d need to reach the next town.

“Is that good enough?” Becca slid the sandwich in front of you.

“Yep.”

The jet black-haired bartender had a really hot British accent, and you just wondered if it was worth waiting for her shift to end to spend the night with her. She was cute and had a nice style, and you were feeling like you needed some good lay tonight - and Becca was probably the only one who paid attention to your band’s lyrics.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice called out for the Brit girl just when you were just done with your food. “A Pepsi, please?”

You turned to your side, having to look up to find the face of whom had slid to your side, finding the exact image of what a Labrador would be if transformed into a - what, seven-foot-tall? - man with floppy hair and a lovely, though, discreet, pout.

“A Pepsi?” you repeated, surprised.

“Surprisingly, Y/N,” Becca gave him the soda can. “Not everyone comes up with a fake ID to get drinks at my bar. Sam is a good kid.”

He smiled, blushing at your compliment.

“Come on, Becks,” you put all of your weight onto the counter, raising your legs behind you. “I’ve been drinking wine since my Bat Mitzvah!”

“This isn’t your synagogue,” she shrugged, walking away.

“Thank you, Becca,” he simply whispered, and you turned to look at him.

Oh, he was indeed adorable.

Finally, the feeling of recognition fell onto you. When you were singing along with the band, he was trying to hit on a blond, tall girl who didn’t give him two fucks.

“Oh, I know who you are,” you exclaimed. “You’re the snubbed boy!”

To that, the tall Labrador turned completely to look at you with a frown on his cute face.

“What?”

You laughed.

“Sorry,” you picked up on your own soda. “I was just paying attention to you while I was singing, and you were snubbed by the pretty blond.”

He looked down on his drink, seeming really embarrassed, and you bumped your elbow against his.

“Hey, I think it’s her loss,” you tried to cheer him up. You definitely would take a piece of that if you could; Labrador boy was very handsome. “I’m Y/N. You?”

“Samuel,” he answered. “Sam Winchester.”

You nodded, almost getting lost in the kaleidoscope of greens in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Samuel Sam Winchester,” you raised your drink to him. “I would buy you a drink, but you probably have noticed the owner isn’t as cool as her tattoos make it seem.”

Behind you two, Becca scoffed loudly.

“I’m right here, girl,” she pointed out. “I can hear you.”

“Good,” you looked behind your shoulder. “You know, you won’t get too far if you keep acting like you don’t know what you’re doing, Sam. You should know that.”

Your companion curled around himself a bit, almost as if he was trying to hide, not that it was even humanly possible.

“I’m not good with girls,” he muttered. “Even a stranger like you can see it.”

You sighed. Sam Winchester was cute, one of those guys who were on the way to be an 11 in a world full of 6 and 7. He was tall and broadly built with nice hair and puppy eyes, and if your life experiences could predict, the only thing he lacked was confidence, and he’d age like fine wine.

“Doesn’t mean it has to be like that,” you drank your soda and put it aside, leaning closer to him.

You could help him. It’d be nice for the two of you.

You rested your chin on your hand and started playing with his flannel nonchalantly.

“Girls like boys who are confident,” you pointed out, toying with the lowest button of his shirt, tempted to run a hand right up his chest but holding back in respect. “You have the looks, the voice… If you just grow the confidence you’ll be unstoppable.

In front of you, Sam was as red as a tomato, and if the bulge in his pants could say anything, it would agree with the desire that was pumping through your veins

“Like... hm…” he stammered and cleared his throat. “Like how?”

You thought a bit to yourself, moving closer to him and watching his chest rising and falling in a quick motion under his clothes.

“Showing her you’re not going to hand around her waiting for attention crumbs is a good start,” you pointed out. “You’re your own person, Sam. Time is a non-renewable source.”

He shifted on his feet and you just waited.

“I’m not the best with all that,” he confessed with an embarrassed laugh. “Never really had contact with a lot of people growing up.”

“Really? Did you move around a lot?”

He chuckled.

“Every month,” he sighed. “Just me, dad and Dean in a car.”

You pulled your hands away, feeling the mood shifting.

“Why?” you asked. “Was he in the military?”

“Uh… no,” Sam hesitated. “He does pest control, kinda made me and my brother work with him and stuff. It kinda sucked.”

You gave him a sad smile.

“Sorry about that.”

Sam shrugged and you bumped onto him playfully.

“But fuck him, right?” you grinned. “You’re here, not there. You made it, Sam. Just leave him behind.”

He shrugged again.

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed. “Damn, I ruined it, right? Sorry for dumping that onto you.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Everyone has a weird family after all. I was raised super religious and conservative and look at me now! My Menorah looks like a vulva!”

Sam’s surprised laugh made you relax. Your parents were Conservative, and while you were still a believer, you were the very definition of modern.

“Long story short,” you sighed. “We’re all from shitty families and that’s okay.”

He tapped his fingers against the counter you were both leant on, you just turned around and looked up at his face.

“Can I kiss you?” Sam asked before you could say what you wanted to say.

Your eyes widened a bit.

“Sure.”

You were not ready for how Sam’s lips felt against yours or how quickly his big hands moved to hold you. He grabbed your waist with determination and kissed you like he meant it, and moved a hand to your ass just as your knees got fucking weak. His fingers were so long they brushed right against the seams of jean shorts that touched your pussy lips, and you melted.

Who knew this boy was so bold?

Too soon for your liking, Sam pulled away and looked at you in confusion.

“You have a…?”

“Tongue piercing,” you confirmed, realising you were practically sat on his thigh. “It’s really good for kissing. And other things…”

Your fingers traced down his body and landed on the seam of his pants. Yes, he was happy.

“Oh,” he muttered, blushing.

“Do you want to put that to test?” you teased.

Sam kissed you again and one of his hands moved from holding you and slammed some money onto the counter, paying whatever he’d bought before and dragging you out of the bar.

He pressed you against the wall in the empty alley outside right when the door closed behind you two, and you weren’t the littlest bit embarrassed when his hand entered the back of your shirt and the other squeezed your thigh while his lips moved as if he wanted to simply eat you alive right there and then.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” he kissed the way down your throat, sucking your skin enough to leave a bruise and make you moan just as his fingers hesitantly brushed up your breast, and he stopped, surprised at the lack of a bra.

Before Sam could pull away, you covered his hand with yours and guided him up, squeezing over him and panting just as he kneaded your breasts in his huge palm.

“Yes, please,” you whined. “You got a condom?”

He instantly froze, which was enough to tell you what the answer to the question was. You didn’t even think twice, detangling yourself from his grasp to Sam’s utter shock.

“Y/n, I’m so-”

Before he could continue, though, you dropped to your knees and pulled his belt open, making his eyes widen, and pushed his clothes away.

Fuck, Sam’s cock was just as big as himself. Your fingers couldn’t circle it whole when you held it in your hand, and he was easily longer than the biggest guy you’d ever had, You almost didn’t want to get up, and just wished you could suck him right there and then, but you needed him to be on his prime for when you finally got him naked.

“Wait for me right here,” you instructed, standing on your feet and half-arsed fixing your top.

You practically skipped into the bar, jumping right onto the stage and grabbing the microphone, tapping it to check if it was still on.

“Guys, hey,” you called out. “Does anyone have a magnum condom or two to lend me? Preferably trojan. Durex XXL is cool too.”

To say the whole bar was staring at you would a bit of an understatement, and the blond who had rejected Sam was looking at you with very wide - and jealous - eyes. You almost insisted for a moment, but a cute guy raised a hand.

“I do.”

“Great!” you exclaimed. “My friends will pay you back!”

You ran to his side, snatching not just one but three condoms from his hands, and pushed Esteban - who was right by your side - on the way.

“Thanks for covering me up,” you said to him and Esteban just held your arm.

“Y/n!”

“Este, it’s a magnum trojan cock,” you raised the three condoms to his eyes. “I need this.”

His face softened and he released you with a head shake.

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “Have fun.”

Sam grabbed your hand as soon as you left the place and stuffed the condoms into his pocket with the reddest face you’d yet to see on him.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“In an RV,” you confessed. “But it’s really close to a motel and the place looks clean enough.”

He chuckled.

“You’re really a wandering soul, aren’t you?”

You just grinned.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I kind of am.”

He looked around a bit.

“We can go to my dorm if you don’t mind?”

You shrugged.

“It’s good for me.”

. . .

"The Ways of Fate, Part 1" is a PDF Exclusive. To read it now, subscribe as a Space Explorer! You can also purchase it for $7, DM me about it!

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[albiclalepsza]

This is the most lukewarm take one can have but I absolutely despise Elon Musk. The man grinds my gears with every fucking thing he does and says, but the shit he pulled now is just so fucking atrocious.

This article does a pretty good job at summarizing it.

The fucking gall it takes to look at your social media platform, a breeeding ground for the alt-right and fascists, and say that it would stop the Holocaust. Holy shit.

And Margolin gifted him with a piece of Hamas rocket that hit Kibbutz Beeri. What a fucking joke. This shit is so performative. In the middle of a genocide that Israel is commiting, they parade the torment of their own people around. If they could get away with it they would probably carry the bodies of people killed on Oct. 7 around to aid their rhetoric. Not to add that if Palestinians wanted to do the same they could send rocket pieces to every single politician that remains complicit in this situation.

The rest of the article is here:

And like, all this happened after Musk visited Auschwitz. His platform is the main place to propagate antisemitism online, and he uses arguably the place where Jews suffered the most to pretend that that's not true. And of course when the topic of concentration camps comes up the narrative focuses on Jews, wich is obviously absolutely understandable - this was a genocide aimed at erasing them, and it destroyed so much Jewish culture. But like, 3 million Jews that died were from Poland. If you add the non-Jewish Poles to that number you get 6 million people dead over the course of the war, most of them killed by the very same Nazi death machine that perpetrated the Holocaust.

Holocaust is also a Polish national tragedy. It erased almost 20% of our population. We learn about it basically before we're conscious enough to understand it. The shadow of that hangs above the country, so much destruction, so many lives and so much culture erased.

A beautiful synagogue that stood in my hometown got demolished by the Nazis, along with the whole Jewish district of the town. Pretty much all Jews from my town were taken to camps or murdered on the streets. The atrocities were so common that there are memorials pretty much everywhere. And it all happened within living memory of course.

My grandmother and her sister almost got executed by the Nazis. They both managed to avoid that thankfully and are old, alive and well (my grandma's sister just celebrated her 99th birthday in good health). Pretty much everyone in Poland has had someone in their family killed by the Nazis or who fought the Nazis 2-4 generations ago. My great grandfathers all fought against them, one lost a leg during the war. The history of the Holocaust and Nazi terror is just so completely interwoven with the general history of Poland that the two are inseparable.

And it pisses me off so much that this weasel, this mistake of a man takes it and feigns an apology, making a farce out of our biggest national tragedy.

Even worse, Polish media is very polarized about the whole situation. Half of the articles ignore the atrocious things he said to suck that billionaire's dick and lick his boots. No mention of this asshole disrespecting our history, just saying how cool it is that the guy who won capitalism appeared in Poland. Fuck them.

Thankfully some newspapers retained a semblance of integrity and called him out. My two favorite ones are these:

Krytyka Polityczna made a headline that says:

Elon Musk in Auschwitz. Photobooth for the pro-Russian antisemite.

And I love the summarizing paragraph here.

"By claiming that if social media existed back then a genocide like the one in Auschwitz wouldn't have happened Elon Musk admits that he understands the Holocaust about as well as his own social media platform - X."

Great takes guys. No notes.

[pargolettasworld]

Today in Tales Out Of Shul:

My synagogue has no heat right now. The boiler died, and, according to the fellow who supervises a lot of the building maintenance and upkeep, it's really hard to replace a boiler, and it's just gotten harder since the pandemic. We're lucky that this didn't happen three months ago, but . . . it's still March, and it was 45 degrees and pouring down rain today. We all dutifully wore hats and mittens and coats and scarves into the sanctuary, but as the Amidah wore on, it became clear that there were congregants who wouldn't be able to deal with another two hours of temperatures like that.

The classroom wing of the building can have space heaters, because the rooms are smaller, and that's where our small library/meeting room/chapel is. So as the Amidah was finishing up, the rabbi announced that we were going to move the rest of the services into the chapel. Because great minds think alike, I thought it would be hilarious if we started the Torah service in the sanctuary and just processioned everyone right into the chapel.

As it happened, the rabbi had had exactly that same thought. So that's what we did. I volunteered to carry the second Torah scroll, everyone picked up their siddurim and chumashim, and we began the Torah service as per usual. Then S., who was carrying the first scroll started the Torah procession down the middle aisle, out the door of the sanctuary, across the lobby, down the hall, and into the chapel, with me following right behind carrying the second scroll, and everyone else tagging along afterwards.

The chapel is much smaller than the sanctuary, and it filled up to SRO capacity pretty quickly -- I left the room for the 11 AM greeting shift, but I heard it was a tight squeeze. But the space heaters did their job, and all the bodies packed in there helped, too. We could feel our fingers and toes, and we had a nice little taste of what an old-fashioned shtibl might have been like, except all-gender. Aside from the fact that . . . well, there's no heat in the building, it was kind of fun.

Hooray for Purim! I suspect that I will be going to the Megillah reading tonight dressed as Bernie in his New England Big Coat at President Biden's inauguration.

[menalez]

this blog is… weird. 1. deleted my comment and then intentionally twisted my words 2. then putting words in my mouth again bc i never said the guy who shot a gun by a synagogue was arab and 3. blocking me right after.

it’s likely a politically-motivated attack & not necessarily a white supremacist based on currently available info. we don’t know his race or his intentions but considering he went to a synagogue called temple israel and yelled “free palestine”, we can assume his intentions weren’t white suprenacist. his race doesnt actually change anything, a wrong act is wrong whether hes white or arab or black or asian or anything else.

luckily no one was hurt, but it would be cool if ppl simply stayed quiet if they didn’t know what they were talking about. his race doesn’t matter & his motive doesn’t matter, terrorising ppl at a synagogue is not ok & terrorising them specifically on a jewish holiday is even worse, and misrepresenting this act intentionally for whatever political goals u have is not going to help the palestinian cause whatsoever. its actually pretty vile to do and harms the credibility of the movement to do that.

[anderswasrightt]

i really like the synagogue i've been going to but it's an hour away from me and my car is not great on gas mileage. i also hate driving at night, so i won't be able to attend in person in the fall and winter when it gets dark earlier. the people there have been so welcoming and nice but 😭😭😭 it's so far away. there's one about 20 minutes from me, but no one emailed me back when i asked some questions. :( idk what i'm going to do

last night's service was member-led and really small; there were only like 7 people there, and only 2 people under the age of 40, including myself. i thought i wouldn't have much to talk about with anyone, but i ended up sitting around talking for about an hour after the service. one lady, also a convert, was talking about how every year she becomes more and more leftist. i love her lol. the other younger person also described herself as "pretty far left" so that was cool too. i'm going to keep going through the summer i think and then i'll just have to attend via zoom in the winter.

[ohmerricat]

via this poll you are now being given the once in a lifetime opportunity to wield the ropes of fate for a random tumblr girl and decide what language they will be learning next (not through duolingo or something, but, like, hopefully, through their uni or a real tutor from next year), which could, by butterfly effect, determine the future of their life path. they’re fluent in russian and pretty decent at french, and, being a Humanities Guy they think it’s embarrassing that they don’t know at least one other language. here are the brief benefits and drawbacks of each

yiddish

as an ashkenazi jew growing up in a completely assimilated, secularised post-soviet family needless to say i’m disconnected from my heritage :)) this is all about reconnecting. it’s also about some fucking awesome songs and idioms and expressions and phrases and poems and stories that i want to know and understand so. cultural reasons. plus, it’s an endangered language that is slowly gaining more and more new learners so why not join the revival. afaik my great grandmother back in belarus spoke nothing but yiddish

hebrew

similar enough reasons, but this is specifically about rediscovering the religious side of judaism, which entails doing a lot of reading books and the torah and finding a synagogue to attend and a community to meet and a lot of googling and a lot of gathering information and also this, learning the holy language of the jewish people. my dad understands it quite well, as do my uncle and cousins, who are currently coloniser settlers in palestine. that’s the downside — learning hebrew may convince my zionist parents that it is now acceptable to begin hounding me once more to sign up for the Free Israel Youth Propaganda Trip (it is not acceptable nor welcome. leave me alone for the love of g-d i want no part in this)

spanish

almost (not going to risk upsetting brazilians) an entire continent and a couple of countries around the globe speak spanish — versatile that way and i wanna travel someday and not act like a Shitty British Tourist…it’s similar enough, being a romance language, to french, which i already know…i’m familiar with at least a couple dozen words and understand some of it quite well…there’s a lot of bomb ass literature written in it, and why read in translation when you are able to Not Do That…also some cool fuckin mexican goth bands that i found on a spotify playlist the lyrics of which i would like to Understand… and i am currently listening to the mabel podcast

german

same point with the bomb ass literature and bomb ass music, emphasis on the music this time, again, what if i ever decide i want to get into berghain and come to the entrance dragging my lousy brit accent along…my family emigrated to germany before england and lived there all through the late 90s…older brother is fluent in it because of that, and so is granny…studied it for about a year in year8 as an extra class but have forgotten almost everything by now, however, it would be quicker to pick up having the basics down

ukrainian

self explanatory, quite. almost feels like an obligation, considering nationality, considering having fled political repression from the country of the aggressor. similar enough to my mother tongue that i can understand around 40% when written/spoken by others. could be useful for joining volunteering initiatives, charity work, mutual aid, translation help for refugees. also, beautiful slavic culture, folk music, art and literature, though i haven't yet read much of it.

[the-expose-on-girls]

21st Century Pharisees

First of all, let me be clear that I normally do not feel comfortable criticizing people from a Biblical standpoint. "Let he who is without fault cast the first stone" and "judge not lest ye be judged" and all that. Honestly, I don't know how pastors can preach "thou shalt not:_____" every week without feeling awkward, as a fellow sinner, in front of their audience. Thus, the criticism this blog focuses on is mostly in a non-religious context. HOWEVER, there are sometimes religion-based situations that peeve me to such a degree that I cannot look the other way.

(Warning: long religious rant ahead, continue at your discretion. Happy scrolling, if this isn't your cup of tea.)

During this morning's daily social media check, I was greeted by a reel/story/short/tiktok from a girl I used to go to church with that made me cringe then sneer in disgust. She sat on the beige floor in her beige romper in front of a beige crib, praying in dramatic "altar call" style with eyes closed over diapers and placing them carefully into a beige baby bag. A wall of cursive text over this video described the laundry list of things she prayed for on her newborn daughter's behalf, while an equally long caption/description detailed the other inanimate household objects she held during her daily petitions. Super emotional live worship music played in the background, a subtle underscore to the performance of it all. It looked like she had spent at least half an hour putting this thing together, taking time to carefully set up her iphone before sitting down to pray and far longer than the activity itself typing out all the cliche buzzword phrases like "comfort in the Lord" and "place of worship".

This is not the first time this week I have cringed over local (small town) acquaintances putting a ton of time and effort into attempting influencer-level videos of their daily lives... just for friends and family to see. First it was a "get ready to move with us", an attempted spin-off of "GRWM" that was almost fatal levels of cringe. Now, it's this weird Instagram-aesthetic-moodboard-meets-cheesy-Hillsong-music "peek" at this local girl's prayer habits. I wish these small towners, who are one clunky Romeo step above rednecks, would chill out with their "keeping up with the Joneses" influencer attempts on social media.

It disturbs me for a number of reasons and now we get to the preachy part, my least favorite part. Firstly, it's SUPER performative and attention-seeking. It's on the same level as anyone who goes to the trouble to set up their camera to film themselves crying, except worse because she's literally "performing" her religion for the camera, for the views, for the likes, for the validating comments. I'm no expert, but I don't know of any religion, Christianity or otherwise, whose doctrine places a VALUE on performative attention-seeking. Except for cults, which are often very performative.

"2 The Pharisees and the teachers of the Law are experts in the Law of Moses. 3 So obey everything they teach you, but don't do as they do. After all, they say one thing and do something else. 4 They pile heavy burdens on people's shoulders and won't lift a finger to help. 5 Everything they do is just to show off in front of others. They even make a big show of wearing Scripture verses on their foreheads and arms, and they wear big tassels for everyone to see. 6 They love the best seats at banquets and the front seats in the synagogues. 7 And when they are in the market, they like to have people greet them as their teachers." -Matthew 23:2-7 CEV

Secondly, in her grand, aesthetically pleasing performance, she is---intentionally or unintentionally---trying to paint a pretty picture to cover up or distract from her past actions. Things like participating in a super exclusive "cool, holy girls" church clique, backstabbing her friends, and leading guys of all ages on for fun. Sinful? Not specifically by the "letter of the law". Christlike towards the church family? Definitely not. But now that she's not a player anymore, and is settled down with a family of her own, she's a pure, wholesome, righteous housewife. Nobody look behind the curtain! Just watch the pretty beige "day in the Christian life" videos with sweet-sounding buzzwords smeared all over them and forget all about her past.

"27 “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. 28 In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness." -Matthew 23:27-28 CEV

Thirdly, there are many aspects of one's walk with God that are meant to be personal, almost private, while others are fine to be public. Some forms of worship are public and others are private, so it's not a hard rule across the board. But this... daily prayer sessions for your family... just feels like something that ought to be personal and not shared with the poor fools who signed up to listen/watch. (“Who is more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows him?”) Somehow, posting it on the internet feels incredibly fake, insincere, and desperate for attention. It gives me an icky feeling.

"3 So when you give to the poor, don’t let anyone know what you are doing." -Matthew 6:3

Fourth, making religion, any religion, into an "aesthetic" like a tag you'd search on Tumblr doesn't feel right to me. Religion, no matter which one, is a way of life, not something to be picked up and enjoyed because it's pretty, until you get bored and find something prettier. First it was the hipster Christians who obsessed over cuffed jeans and Bible verses plastered on photos of foggy forests. Now it's the sad beige Christian girls (*cough*former bullies*cough*) putting cliche, righteous-sounding Christian phrases over videos of their sourdough bread project. "Aesthetisizing" religion just trivializes it. No Bible verse for this one, because I don't remember any passages that talk about #aesthetic. But I don't think I need scripture to back me up on this one.

FIFTH and finally, you know that idiom "if a tree falls in the forest and there's no one around to hear it, does it make a sound"? Translate that to 2023 and it basically equates to: "if something happens and you don't post it all over your social media, did it REALLY happen?" Many girls and young women have been conditioned to a point where they genuinely believe without even realizing it that moments in their lives aren't valuable, special, valid, or even happened unless it gets showed off on their social media for likes and comments. Unfortunately, that now carries over into their religious activities as well. It's not worth their time to sit down for a good reading/journalling session if they can't make an unrealistically aesthetic tiktok of it. If they spend some quiet time in prayer and don't make an Instagram reel with some inspirational worship music, HOW will everyone know what a Godly Woman(tm) they are??? It's both sad and disgusting that they think their worship time, charity, acts of service, and everything else about their walks with God aren't VALID unless people hit that "like" button on social media.

Before anyone tries to argue this one with me, saying that this content can teach and inspire other Christians... no. Just no. It's a night and day difference between teaching and showing off. There is nothing educational about these girls' photos/videos, which only serve to scream in everyone's faces, "LOOK AT ME, LOOK HOW RIGHTEOUS I AM!"

Narcissism is characterized by a focus on "me, me, me", while many religions are supposed to be a focus on their higher power. While they try to make it look like the focus of the videos and their activities are on God, it's very clear that the subject of the videos is themselves for the sake of flattering their egos.

[copperbadge]

It wouldn't be accurate to say that I took this trip with the Shivadh novels in mind -- there were a lot of motivations for it, including entirely separate parallel obsessions. But while I could have afforded the trip without the royalties, there's no denying that the first three novels are heavily subsidizing the travel, and one of my goals was to get to visit Ponte San Ludovico, which is located in reality where Askazer-Shivadlakia borders the sea in the books.

In any case it's been fun and inspirational for the books; I've been snagging ideas here and there, conceptualizing stories. I saw a couple of things in the British Museum I'd like to incorporate into the books in one way or another, and I'm sure I'll see more as I move through France and Italy. It only occurred to me just now, in fact, that when I take the train from Paris to Nice on Thursday, I'll basically be re-creating Michaelis's trip home from Paris at the start of Infinite Jes. Sadly I don't think there are any beautiful synagogues you can see from the train, but I will be touring the Grand Synagogue of Rome when I'm there a few days later, so there's that.

I'm on the Eurostar another two hours or so, and I've spent some time looking out the window at France and now Belgium rolling past, but while it's beautiful it's also very uniform, in terms of being Flat, Green, and Pretty. There's only so much beautiful greenery I can look at, so I'm alternating that with work on Royals/Ramblers. Georgie is introducing Monday to her friends, which include a bunch of recurring background characters -- makes sense Georgie would know Esta and Darien from her work in the palace, and I thought I'd bring back Ava and Ben -- Ava collects fellow lesbians so she probably pulled Georgie into her circle pretty quickly. Buck, who is a pushy asshole, also keeps showing up in stories that don't belong to him, but while he's not my favorite he is a real joy to write.

The Dychev came into view in the harbor, then, white sails brilliant against the blue of the sea, and people drifted to the railing to watch. Monday joined Georgie there, and found Buck at her elbow; when the ship finally docked, he bounced on his toes and pointed.

"There he is," he said. "Caleb! HEY CANTO!" he bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth. Monday didn't think anyone could have heard him at that distance, but after a few seconds one of the little figures swarming the boat did turn to face them, more or less, noticeable because he was wearing dark clothing amongst the others in white nautical uniforms. Monday watched, amused and a little touched, as Buck's face lit up with genuine, unadulterated, deeply uncool joy. He jumped when the phone in his pocket buzzed. 

"He says he's on his way," Buck announced. "Brilliant. I'm going to go get him some food," he added, and disappeared behind the crowd at the railing. 

"Infatuated," Georgie said drily. 

Poor Buck, you fall in love and all your cool just evaporates.