#you can tell these are old because the photo quality is absolute garbage

[sentimentalspiders]

The Black Parade, pt 1

The Black Parade, pt 2

Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, pt 1

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/7/2020

I missed THE GOLDEN GLOVE at Fantastic Fest last year. It was one of my only regrets of the whole experience, but it was basically mandatory since the available screenings were opposite the much-hyped PARASITE. As annoying as that sounds, it was actually a major compliment, since what could possibly serve as a consolation prize for the most hotly anticipated movie of the year? Needless to say, I heard great things, but I could never have imagined what it was actually like. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.

Between 1970 and 1975, an exceptionally depraved serial killer named Fritz Honka murdered at least four prostitutes in Hamburg's red light district. Today, we tend to think of the archetypal serial killer in terms of ironic contradictions: The public is attracted by Ted Bundy's dashing looks and suave manner, and John Wayne Gayce's dual careers as politician and party clown. Lacking anything so remarkable, we associate psychopathy with Norman Bates' boy-next-door charm, and repeat "It's always the quiet ones" with a smirk whenever a new Jeffrey Dahmer or Dennis Nilsen is exposed to the public. The popular conception of a bloodthirsty maniac is not the fairytale monster of yore, but a wolf in sheep's clothing, whose hygienic appearance and lifestyle belie his twisted desires. In our post-everything world, the ironic surprise has become the rule. In this light, THE GOLDEN GLOVE represents a refreshing return to naked truth.

To say that writer-director Fatih Akin's version of the Fritz Honka story is shocking, repulsive, and utterly degenerated would be a gross understatement. We first meet the killer frantically trying to dispose of a corpse in his filthy flat, wallpapered with porno pinups, strewn with broken toys, and virtually projecting smell lines off of the screen. One's sense of embodiment is oppressive, even claustrophobic, as the petite Honka tries and fails to collapse the full dead weight of a human corpse into a garbage bag, before giving up and dismembering it, with nearly equal difficulty. The scene is appalling, utterly debased, and yet nothing is as shocking as the killer's visage. When he finally turns to look into the camera, it's hard to believe he's even human: the rolling glass eye, the smashed and inflated nose, the tombstone teeth and cratered skin, are almost too extreme to bear. Actually, suffering from a touch of facial blindness, I had to stare intently at Honka's face for nearly half the movie before I could fully convince myself that I was, in fact, looking at an elaborate prosthetic operation used to transform 23 year old boy band candidate Jonas Dassler into the disfigured 35 year old serial murderer.

Though West Germany remained on a steady economic upturn beginning in the 1950s and throughout the 1970s, you wouldn't know it from THE GOLDEN GLOVE. If Honka's outsides match his insides, they are further matched by his stomping grounds in the Reeperbahn, a dirty, violent, booze-soaked repository for the dregs of humanity. Though its denizens may come from different walks of life, one thing is certain: Whoever winds up there, belongs there. Honka was the child of a communist and grew up in a concentration camp, yet he swills vodka side by side with an ex-SS officer, among other societal rejects, in a crumbling dive called The Golden Glove. The scene is an excellent source of hopeless prostitutes at the end of their career, who are Honka's prime victims, as he is too frightful-looking to ensnare an attractive young girl. These pitiful women all display a peculiarly hypnotic willingness to go along with Honka, no matter how sadistic he becomes; this seems to have less to do with money, which rarely comes up, and more to do with their shared awareness that for them, and for Honka too, it's been all over, for a long time.

Not to reduce someone’s performance to their physical appearance, but ???

To call Dassler's portrayal of Honka "sympathetic" would be a bridge too far, but it is undeniably compelling. He supports the startling impact of his facial prostheses with a performance of rare intensity, a full-body transformation into a person in so much pain that a normal life will never become an option. His physical vocabulary reminded me of the stage version of The Elephant Man, in which the lead actor wears no makeup, but conveys John Merrick's deformities using his body alone. Although there is an abundance of makeup in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, Dassler's silhouette and agonized movements would be recognizable from a mile away. In spite of his near-constant screaming rage, the actor manages to craft a rich and convincing persona. During a chapter in which Honka experiments with sobriety, we find a stunning image of him hunched in the corner of his ordinarily chaotic flat, now deathly still, his eyes gazing at nothing as cigarette smoke seeps from his pores, having no idea what to do with himself when he isn't in a rolling alcoholic rampage. The moment is brief but haunting in its contrast to the rest of the film, having everything to do with Dassler's quietly vibrating anxiety.

Performances are roundly excellent here, not that least of which are from Honka's victims. The cast of middle-aged actresses looking their most disastrous is hugely responsible for the film's impact. These are the kinds of performances people call "brave", which is a euphemism for making audiences uncomfortable with an uncompromising presentation of one's own self, unvarnished by any masturbatory solicitation. Among these women is Margarete Tiesel, herself no stranger to difficult cinema: She was the star of 2012's PARADISE: LOVE, a harrowing drama about a woman who copes with her midlife crisis by pursuing sex tourism in Kenya. Her brilliant, instinctive performance as one of Honka's only survivors--though she nearly meets a fate worse than death--makes her the leading lady of a movie that was never meant to have one.

So, what does all this unpleasantness add up to, you might be asking? It's hard to say. THE GOLDEN GLOVE is a film of enormous power, but it can be difficult to explain what the point of it is, in a world where most people feel that the purpose of art is to produce some form of pleasure. This is the challenge faced by difficult movies throughout history, like THE GOLDEN GLOVE's obvious ancestors, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, MANIAC and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE. Describing unremitting cruelty with relentless realism is not considered a worthy endeavor by many, even if there is real artistry in your execution; some people will even mistake you for advocating and enjoying violence and despair, as we live in a world where huge amount of movie and TV production is devoted to aspirational subjects. (The fact that people won't turn away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, no matter how monotonous and condescending they become, should tell you something) How do you justify to such people, that you want to make or see work that portrays ugliness and evil with as much commitment as other movies seek to portray love, beauty, and family values? Why isn't it enough to say that these things exist, and their existence alone makes them worth contemplation?

A rare, perhaps exclusive “beautiful image” in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, from Fritz Honka’s absurd fantasies.

You may detect that I have attempted to have this frustrating conversation with many people, strangers, enemies, and friends I love and respect. I find that for some, it is simply too hard to divorce themselves from the pleasure principle. I don't say this to demean them; some hold the philosophy that art be reserved for beauty, and others have a more literary feeling that it's ok to show characters in grim circumstances, as long as the ultimate goal is to uplift the human spirit. Even I draw the line somewhere; I appreciate the punk rebellion of Troma movies as a cultural force, but I do not enjoy watching them, because I dislike what I perceive as contempt for the audience and the aestheticization of laziness--making something shitty more or less on purpose. A step or three up from that, you land in Todd Solondz territory, where you find materially gorgeous movies whose explicit statement is that our collective reverence for a quality called "humanity" is based on nothing. I like some of those movies, and sometimes I even like them when I don't like them, because I'm entranced by Solondz's technical proficiency...and maybe, deep down, I'm not completely convinced about "humanity", either. However, I don't fight very hard in arguments about him; I understand the objections. Still, I've been surprised by peers who I think of as bright and tasteful, who absolutely hated movies I thought were unassailable, like OLDBOY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. In both cases, the ultimate objection was that they accuse humans of being pretentious and self-deceptive, aspiring to heroism or bemoaning their victimhood while wallowing in their own cowardice and perversity. Ok, I get it...but, not really. Why isn't it ever wholly acceptable to discuss, honestly, what we do not like about ourselves?

The beguiling thing about THE GOLDEN GLOVE is that, although it is instantly horrifying, is it also an impeccable production. The director can't help showing you crime scene photos during the ending credits, and I can't really blame him, when his crew worked so hard to bring us a vision of Fritz Honka's world that approaches virtual reality. But it isn't just slavishly realistic; it is vivid, immersive, an experience of total sensory overload. Not a square inch of this movie has been left to chance, and the product of all this graceful control is totally spellbinding. I started to think to myself that, when you've achieved this level of artifice, what really differentiates a movie like THE GOLDEN GLOVE from something like THE RED SHOES? I mean, aside from their obvious narrative differences. Both films plunge the viewer into a world that is complete beyond imagination, crafted with a rigor and sincerity that is rarely paralleled. And, I will dare to say, both films penetrate to the depths of the human soul. What Fatih Akin finds there is not the same as what Powell and Pressburger found, of course, but I don't think that makes it any less real. Akin's film is adapted from a novel by Heinz Strunk, and apparently, some critics have accused Akin of leaving behind the depth and nuance of the book, to focus instead on all that is gruesome about it. This may be true, on some level; I wouldn't know. For now, I can only insist that on watching THE GOLDEN GLOVE, for all its grotesquerie, I still got the message.

[atmilliways]

You like AUs, right? Mash up Metalocalypse and That 70s Show, go! Mash up Metalocalypse and Friends, go! Mash up Metalocalypse and Frasier, go!

Oh jeebus, why?

… But yeah you’re right I do.

That Dethklok’s Show

You know what makes me mad is that I want to say Nathan and Charles are Eric and Donna, but Seth is unarguably Lori and that messes everything up.

Okay so Pickles = Eric, Seth = Lori, Calvert = Red but with hair, and Molly = Kitty except Seth is her favorite child too.

Skwisgaar = Kelso because he’s tall, pretty, and horny. Also, in this AU, he is drowning in brothers because Servetta can’t keep it in her panties.

Toki = Fez because he’s foreign, happy most of the time, sings and dances for the simple joy of it, and his room is decked out with toys and fun stuff.

Murderface = Hyde because of the righteous fa-RO baby, and also because he DOESN’T HAVE ANY PARENTS. He moves in with Pickles’ family and lives in the basement. (Pickles was hoping this would give Molly and Calvert another Target to rag on and give him a break. It didn’t work.)

Unlike Hyde, Murderface is not cool and doesn’t get any eventual Hyde/Jackie storyline. Instead, his relationship history goes more like Fez’s. Without the weird forced Fez/Jackie stuff at the end of the series, which really went downhill has soon as Donna dyed her hair blonde.

Charles = Buddy, the random rich kid who is canonically gay, only he’s a regular part of the group instead of a one-episode throwaway character.

I’m cool with Pickles/Charles, and that fits with Buddy coming on to Eric in the show. But I would eventually break them up and put Charles with…

Nathan = no one on the show, but he’s got a lot of Hyde’s qualities in terms of stoic, bad boy vibes. However, like Kelso, he is an Adorable Dumb (see “that’s doable” hat).

Rebecca Nightrod = Jackie, but she’s not a necessarily a regular character. Murderface fawns/lusts over her like Fez, even though she’s a bitch. Nathan hates her, even though he does date her briefly in a relationship that she holds onto tenaciously until, in an act of desperation that absolutely horrifies Pickles, he cheats on her with Seth.

Abigail = Donna, because she’s smart and has good hair. (Zero bleach kits in sight.)

Rockso = Bob, because he’s a cue ball on top and makes liberal use of crazy wigs. Bargain Rockso’s is that store that’s always open on holidays — just in case you’re driving home Christmas night, realize you forgot to get a gift, and rush in to buy a fridge to solve the gift problem and/or some cocaine to forget there was ever a problem in the first place.

Magnus = Leo. He gives Murderface a job at his hilariously unprofitable Photo Hut business, declines to sell his real cool car to Skwisgaar on principal, and generally supplies the gang with all their weed and assorted drugs.

Dory McLean = Midge. She’s young, dumb, has big boobs, and Abigail is exasperated as hell that she doesn’t understand feminism in the slightest.

Knubbler = Mitch, the weird kid who hangs around and is sometimes kinda entertaining but keeps hitting on Abigail, which annoys her. However, he’s also stupid and accidentally self-sabotages (see setting his sleeve on fire while trying to flirt), so she doesn’t really waste energy on slapping him back down.

Pickles “burning down the shed” = Eric telling Red “I do it too” when Hyde gets busted for possession. Either way Abigail (Donna) is standing in the background going, “For the love of god, DON’T.”

Trindle = Cousin Penny, only instead of prankish Pickles (Eric) she targets Nathan, who during her last visit when they were much younger helped Pickles trap her in a revolving door. Abigail is completely secure in her looks compared to Trindle and actually talks Rebecca out of a potentially disastrous sunlamp tan.

Nathan and Abigail go out for like, a second, while Nathan and Charles are I one of their off-again fazes.

Endgame parings are Nathan/Charles, Abigail/Rebecca, and Skwisgaar/Toki.

B.A.N.D.M.A.T.E.S

Nathan = Ross. Can you picture Nathan doing the *long sigh, ex wife is a lesbian blues* “Hi” thing? Because I can.

Abigail = Carol. They got together but it just didn’t work out in the long run. 

Rebecca Nightrod = Susan. Tbh, I think the reason she keeps popping up is because of how @little-murmaider portrayed her in Stay Alive. She and Nathan get along like a house on fire, in that it’s a disaster and Abigail keeps having to turn the hose on them to stop the bickering.

Toki = Monica, although his chef skills are mostly confined to providing fruit and burning plastic. He’s still got the overshadowed younger sibling thing going on though.

Molly = Judy Geller. Dotes on Nathan.

Oscar = Jack Geller. Is amiably odd.

Charles = Rachel. Except not as ditzy. But he does break an engagement off at the altar and moves in with Toki, an old acquaintance he hasn’t seen since high school and one of the few people he, ah, did not invite to the wedding. For the record, he was hoping that wouldn’t come up.

Skwisgaar = Joey. Except when they all go to London, Toki (Monica) does hook up with him, gradually teaches him how to relationship, and eventually they get married.

Murderface = Chandler. He hates his data processing job and keeps threatening to leave it to work on his side project, Planet Piss, but never actually does because the money is really good. When he goes back to the pet store to return the baby chick Skwisgaar impulse bought, he instead adopts an ugly-ass duck that no one wants because it’s original owners thought it was just an ugly duckling that would grow up into a swan. He feels that he can empathize with it, and names it Dick van Duck.

Knubbler = Dick van Duck. Listens patiently to all of Murderface’s Planet Piss ideas.

Pickles = Phoebe. He doesn’t even know who his dad is, and is proud that he doesn’t. (I’m not going to lie, Phoebe’s family situation definitely fits more with Murderface, but Phoebe’s dating track record is too good.) Remember the one where Pickles broke up with someone he’d just moved in with because the person shot a bottle of liquor?

Seth = Ursula. 100% Ursula. Seth is a “career driven” waiter and also a part time porn star on the side, using Pickles’ name.

Fraiser 

I don’t watch this one as much, so this one won’t be as detailed probably.

Skwisgaar = Frasier. Idk, because he goes on dates with a different woman at least every episode. Also, he’s a jackass, but good at what he does and there are some redeeming glimmers of not being a complete asshole that make his presence worthwhile.

Nathan = Niles. Minus most of the neuroses. Instead of successful musicians, he and Skwisgaar are both successful psychiatrists, although Skwisgaar usually gets the bulk of the public’s, ahem, attention.

Daphne = Charles. He’s oblivious to Nathan’s crush on him for ages, but when he realizes it’s there and thinks about how sweet Nathan’s always been to him, he falls hard.

Rebecca Nightrod = Maris. She and Nathan have a rocky marriage, and eventually a rockier divorce in which she accuses Nathan of being emotionally unfaithful because of Charles.

Abigail = The brilliant divorce lawyer that handles Nathan’s case, and briefly dates Charles. They seem like such a good fit on paper that they’re actually engaged for a bit, but they break it off amiably right before getting to the altar, and Nathan and Charles ride off into the sunset in an RV with “road warrior” vanity plates.

Toki = Roz. (I know, technically Roz’s promiscuousness would be more Skwisgaar, but Skwisgaar’s superiority complex fits better with Frasier.) Although competent and successful in his own right, he is not the on air talent. Unlike in Frasier, when Toki and Skwisgaar sleep together they actually become a couple instead of backing off and remaining good friends.

Rockso = That garbage man that Roz was head over heals with for a while… Rodger?He belongs in a garbage can. Anyway, after breaking up with Toki over the latter’s inability to get over his massive cocaine use, Toki goes to Skwisgaar for comfort, which leads to drinking which leads to sex. Toki flees the next morning and flies to Norway for the annual family reunion, only he hadn’t told anyone he’s broken up with Rockso. Skwisgaar, desperate to Talk Things Out and hopefully even Do That Again, follows and (cringingly, but of his own volition) answers to/pretends to be Rockso to help Toki save face in front of his critical family.

Murderface = Bulldog. He and Toki briefly have a thing, and he’s actually kind of sweet when you get right down to it, but things don’t work out. Masturbation photos are involved — don’t ask. Also, at one point Skwisgaar accidentally repeats a rumor that Murderface is going to get fired where Murderface can hear it, so

Murderface goes and yells at the station manager (then Knubbler) and quits. Then he’s unemployed for a while, and scrapes by delivering pizzas. I forget how that situation resolved itself in the show but it does.

Knubbler = Kenny the station manager. Weak willed. Weak chinned. Ineffectual. Good track record in his career, but mostly he’s just there.

Abigail = That domineering and extremely competent lady station manager that’s there for a while… Kate? Has a cat. But she does NOT get it on with Skwisgaar (Frasier) on his desk and accidentally bump the On Air button partway through. She has a very strict policy of not getting involved with anyone she works with, although naturally everyone tries.

That’s all I got.

Magnus = Martin. Because he’s a cranky old man. He and Nathan don’t get along and he resents having to live with Skwisgaar, but they all gamely trade barbed insults and leave it at that. Magnus is a retired cop who still works on old cold cases as a hobby, having vowed revenge on uncaptured murderers everywhere. He and Charles (Daphne) get along pretty well, and there is no stabbing of any kind.

Metal Masked Assassin = Cam Winston. At one point he blocks Skwisgaar and Toki in Skwisgaar’s SUV into a parking space with his own SUV, and only relents and backs out when Charles comes and calmly threatens him, because “that’s my bread and butter you’re blocking in.”

There, are you happy now?? I spent a ridiculous amount of time on this, asdf;lkj lol.

[halsteadpd]

5x07 Care Under Fire

Okay, so that episode was fucking nuts. I may have already re-watched it for the purpose of trying to figure Jay Halstead out. I’ve waited 5 seasons along with you for this episode, and in my opinion, they delivered quite well, especially Jesse. Sure there were a few other things I would’ve liked to learn about Jay, but I don’t think it was appropriate for him to talk about that while he was undercover. Anyways, here’s my analysis, feel free to input your own opinions/thoughts/questions. :) 

(Bear with me, the images were taken from my phone in the dark. I will be so pissed if this post fucks up somehow because I’ve been writing about it for an hour now)

Right off the bat, we see Jay struggling. I don’t know about you, but I WAS NOT PREPARED. 

I MEAN COME ON!!! The thing that intrigued me about this was that he didn’t hear Adam coming into the bullpen, he stayed asleep. Heavy sleeper maybe? But the thing is, I personally would not take a trained military veteran to sleep that heavy. Jay was overseas listening to bullets and bombs dropping as his lullabies so maybe he became accustomed to sleeping until someone nudged him awake. And the second that Adam woke him up, he was ready to throw a punch. When I re-watched this scene, it made me think: How many times has Jay accidentally fallen asleep in the break room overnight? How many times has he done this since Erin left? This scene absolutely broke my heart and I knew from here that the episode was going to do well.  

Moving onto the scene with Voight. @whistlewhileyouwrite was so kind to point this out when the sneak peeks were released, but Voight saying “And you were the first detective on scene” sounds very accusatory. It’s almost a “how did you get here so fast” because we know he went out, probably went home to get a shower in before grabbing coffee as he sat around in his truck listening to calls in the zone. I don’t know why Voight’s tone of voice pisses me off so much, but it does. But thinking about it now, maybe Voight was looking out for him. He knows that Jay isn’t in the greatest of mindsets after losing Erin and shooting that little girl, so maybe he’s just keeping tabs on Jay to make sure he’s okay. (And we also know via Jesse that Voight will be looking out for him).

Going to take a pause here to admire Jay in blue because DAMN. 

Okay back to the sad shit.

After the team reviewed the security footage, the camera pans back to Jay’s face. It was likely the director (who I believe was a woman for this episode SHOUT OUTS THERE) who thought of this and I think it was such an intelligent and excellent choice to do so. 

The look on his face is of suspicion. He watched the ‘ghost’ again after the team left and something clicks in his mind. The guy is trained. I wonder if his thoughts immediately went to ‘this has to be a vet’ because as we’ve seen (on the show and in real life and it absolutely sucks) is that a lot of veterans have difficulty getting back into civilian life and getting a job to support themselves. It looks like he already assumed that the guy is ex-military because they’re vulnerable. They need money. I was just extremely intrigued by this.

Next I wanted to talk about Voight getting Upton’s opinion on Jay going undercover. “No, I’m neutral.” Many of us (I am guilty) would assume that she is being unsupportive of her partner; she needs to say yes because she’s his backup. But as the episode goes on, and especially in the very next scene were she’s helping wire him up, we get some insight on how much Upton cares for Jay. 

HU: “Just been a little concerned lately.”

JH: “About what?”

HU: “About you, you cover well but, I got eyes Jay. You sure you solid?”

I honestly hope that we get to see the repercussions of Jay’s spiral on Hailey because ultimately, I think it will bring them together not only as partners, but as friends. (Maybe even lovers but Linstead in endgame for me).  

Cue to Jay in Vega’s house just ‘snoopin.’’ I’m sorry but i had to giggle there because it was fucking adorable.

Now comes that conversation with Camilla. 

JH: “Just alcohol.”

CV: “Excuse me?”

JH: “Well usually, it’s alcohol and opiates, you know...” 

...

JH: “I��ve just been there. I’ve spent about seven months doing nothing but drink, smoke, screw and fight.”

LEARNING ABOUT JAY HALSTEAD’S PAST FFS. The reason why this scene struck me so hard was not only did we learn what he did for a while after he got back, but he had such vulnerability in his eyes as he told Camilla this (I will mention his eyes again later). I just wanted to give him a hug.

And then towards the end of the conversation, Camilla tells Jay that Luis hasn’t come back all the way yet to which he replies:

“I don’t think anybody ever does, you just kinda fill up whatever is missing with someone else.” 

This left me intrigued. 

When he had drinks with Luis at his place, Jay mentions a story. He talks about shooting an eight-year-old, dark skinned girl that is giving him nightmares. Even though at the end of 5x01 he got to say his sorry, he’s definitely not over it and who knows if he ever will be?! He also said he can see the Valley, kids and dogs when he thinks about it, potentially alluding to there being similarities between shooting the girl in 5x01 and something happening in Korengal (or anywhere else in Afghanistan).

Let’s move onto a line he said that made me smile.

JH: “Be all vulnerable, charming, she was gonna love it.” (He said this to Luis when Luis questioned Jay why Camilla didn’t know he was dropping by)

This scene makes me think of “You’ve been there for me before.” FUCK I KNOW I’M BRINGING UP LINSTEAD. But that longing look they had at Molly’s in 1x01 means that there likely was a time in Jay and Erin’s friendship where he showed up on her doorstep ‘all vulnerable and charming’ and I am such trash I will show myself out to the door and onto curb, garbage day is in the morning for me.

And here comes the oxy fiasco. 

LOOK. AT. HIS. FACE. HE HAD TO GO AGAINST HIS MORALS AND HIS CHOICE AND GIVE LUIS SOME OXY FOR HIM TO AGREE TO SET UP A MEET. It looks like a part of him died to do this. 

In this conversation, Jay also mentioned that he wanted a job with this guy.

JH: “I just need a job, some excitement, or I’m gonna lose my damn mind.”

A bit of a stretch here, but is that why he joined the academy? Did he work security or something in between the time of him coming home and becoming a police officer? IMPORTANT QUESTIONS HERE.

*Insert inevitable kiss here*

Towards the end, when there’s the shootout and Luis realizes Jay is a cop, he basically committed suicide. He’s trained in combat and he just walks away from cover out into the open?! He wanted to die in that moment rather than go to jail and it just makes his death that much more sad.   

Let’s make our way to the final scene of Jay comforting Camilla. I will be SO surprised if there isn’t any allusions or any evidence that they ended up falling into bed with each other later that night. It’s such a character thing for Jay to find comfort in sex and I’m here for the Skinstead. But... I’m gonna torture you with another photo, look how broken he looks as he tries to hold it all together.

Now I said we would talk about his eyes. I’ve got pictures (surprise, surprise). The two pictures I took portray the utmost vulnerability for Jay. Once when he spoke to Camilla about what he did for seven months after he came back, and then when he talked about shooting the little girl with Luis. 

(Yikes at that quality)

(This picture breaks my fucking heart ughhhh)

His eyes looked absolutely beautiful today, just saying.

Now the last thing I’m going to write and include for this novel is a director/editing choice. 

The first time we see Jay with ‘blurry vison:’

He was in a shootout and the M84 was thrown at him, clouding his view from the perpetrators. 

Second time his view is blurred:

When he points his gun at Upton.

I found this choice so fascinating because from what I interpreted, the first one was the beginning of everything, the beginning of his mental breakdown. It must have been really overwhelming for him to have to witness the use of a military grade weapon again, especially after all those years. He’s already having nightmares and the use of the flash bangs had to have been triggering but since he was doing his job at the time, there was a distraction. The second time, he’s in the middle of a mental breakdown. He watched another ex-Ranger die in front of his eyes and there was nothing he could’ve done to help Luis. Seeing Luis getting shot like that, pulling him over to the side (3x17 remembrance here with Terry) and then trying to perform CPR when it was useless was probably something Jay has done overseas multiple amount of times. In the blink of an eye he could’ve been thinking he was back in Afghanistan (hence pointing the gun at Upton). He is at the brink of his breakdown and I think witnessing the fallout of it is going to be really interesting not only for character development, but just to see how and if the team rallies around him to support him. (Unless they don’t, cue 1x10 feels). 

Anyways, this essay is extremely long and I apologize, but I needed to get all of this off my chest. Tell me what you think about everything and your own impressions of the episode. 

[tigy-the-gaymer]

Some Anti-Theist Religious Bits & Pieces: Round Thirteen

Of those Big Questions vital to philosophical ideas that encompass life, the universe and everything, the domains of religious philosophy and religions and the idea of divinities keep on captivating. Assessments multiply in books, articles, recordings, discussions in bars and bars, and in actuality anyplace and wherever at least two people are in nearness. There's the genius side; there's the counter side. There aren't an excess of fence-sitters. I'm still in the counter camp as the accompanying odds and ends outline.

Concerning

*You needn't bother with a divine being to have significance and reason in your life.

*There is one quality that the multi-a huge number of varying strict conviction frameworks/religious philosophies have displayed and that is the intensity of the human creative mind to strikingly proceed to envision fanciful ideas never envisioned. The world would be a less beautiful and fascinating spot without our different folklores.

*I think there ought to be required strict and Biblical instruction in schools since that ought to guarantee a constant flow of nonbelievers growing up and entering the network!

*Religions frequently do great to veil the shrewd they do, yet would now be able to do without risk of punishment.

*The Catholic Church: AIDS is terrible yet the utilization of condoms is more terrible since God doesn't favor of 'conception prevention' in any way, shape or form Engagement Rings Perth. It is obviously educated in Africa by Catholics that utilizing condoms makes "Infant Jesus cry". Abnormal.

*Then too we had the Catholic Church's Index of Prohibited Books. It wasn't only the Nazis that consumed books. Presently you must be extremely shaky and uncertain of your philosophy and how to protect it in the event that you need to take cover behind a brought down drape that outcomes by the controlling of disparate conclusions. It's simply one more sign of Christianity's eventual demise.

*There's no more proof for casual and complicated strict conviction (like being profound without being an individual from any proper strict faction/association/church) than officially sorted out religion. It's all only a type of "charm".

*When it comes to religion, "fall back on toleration when in doubt" True Believers are particularly in the minority. (By means of Greta Christina).

*Any religion is only a working speculation about how life, the Universe and everything, except particularly the world, works. All things considered, that religion is dependent upon investigation and counter and being tested and rectified as would some other working theory from some other effective region or of topic of worry to people, from the sciences through to political frameworks.

*We don't will in general go out to shop for the brand of religion we need among the entirety of the extraordinary and broadly contrasting brands of religion on offer and afterward picking the most reasonable the manner in which we accomplish for the multi brands of parcels of rolls on offer at the grocery store or for a particular brand or design name of dress at the women style shop and apparel division. Rather we continue eating/wearing a similar brand over and over and again in light of the fact that that was only the manner in which we were raised. In like manner, we will in general keep the religion that was forced on us when we were kids. This is to a limited extent because of custom (in the event that it was adequate for Mum and Dad its sufficient for me) just as family/social weight. Obviously in certain social orders the weight verges on real physical dangers and disciplines on the off chance that you stray from the acknowledged overlap.

*Thanks to Christianity and its all-adoring, all-simply, all-benevolent God, more than 50,000 blameless individuals were tormented and executed - they were classified "witches" however were not any more genuine witches than the individuals who turned the thumb-screws, fixed the rack, and light the blazes encompassing the stake. Incidentally, this training is as yet going on in numerous remote regions in immature nations. God (and His hirelings here on earth) should balance their heads in disgrace for Exodus 22: 18 "Thou will not endure a witch to live".

As to versus Science

*According to Leviticus 11: 6 and Deuteronomy 14: 7, rabbits (for example - hares) cheweth the cud. This obviously is zoological hogwash. Chalk up one more Biblical uh oh.

*The general pattern over all of written history is that normal clarifications have displaced, typically surpassed in informative force, powerful (for example - strict) clarifications. I'd wager that is a pattern that will fight the good fight.

As to and Belief

*Saying that you simply know something (without proof to back up your insight) is simply not a pathway to truth.

*If you state your confidence bests proof then you are absolutely impervious to both self-amendment and impervious to contradict.

*Religious conviction is confidence in the mysterious. There's not a single verification in sight in the strict pudding. Any evidence to be discovered comes after you've kicked-the-basin and by then it's short of what was needed to tell anybody.

*The thought of choosing what's actual dependent on what you need to be genuine is ludicrous in the extraordinary. The truth is the thing that the truth is and your convictions to the opposite are immaterial. So any conviction framework that urges individuals to disregard the truth is a terrible conviction framework and that covers Christianity directly down through and including New Age "Charm".

*The prime instructing of monotheistic strict confidence in an imperceptible enchantment man in the sky is a conspicuous model known to software engineers of GIGO - Garbage In; Garbage Out.

*Christian: You need to regard my convictions.

Nonbeliever: No! I may regard you similar to a legitimate and amiable individual yet that doesn't mean I need to regard what you put stock in.

*You reserve a privilege to your private strict convictions until such time as you go too far and your strict convictions enter the open field and begin to hurt others.

*It's misleading in the outrageous for you to basin the strict convictions of others when those convictions don't adjust to your convictions and afterward anticipate that your strict convictions should get a free pass.

As to and Miracles

*For the Catholic Church to announce some occasion as a real wonder (for example Fatima, October 1917), well that is much the same as a genuine devotee to Bigfoot or the Yeti pronouncing that a photo of a disintegrated 'primate' impression in the snow is outright verification of same. Genuine adherents will clearly embrace occasions that reflect proof for their actual conviction.

With respect to

*The thought that strict confidence consequently makes you a decent and good individual is ridiculous in the extraordinary. Jails in America, Canada, Western Europe, Australia, and so on are brimming with Christians. Penitentiaries in Muslin nations are brimming with detainees of the Islamic confidence. And afterward as well, shouldn't something be said about those individuals of the material and the neckline - like Catholic (and other) ministers and other church who utilize their places of power to 1) intellectually misuse little kids with frightening dangers of interminable discipline in Hell and 2) who genuinely misuse kids in their consideration, particularly captivating in sexual maltreatment. What's more, that is simply starting to expose the disasters submitted by those proclaiming strict confidence.

With respect to End Times

*Faith is a container! Proof? There have been a large number of exact prophetic estimates made by the devoted for the End Times; End of Days; the Second Coming; the Rapture; Armageddon; the Apocalypse, and so forth. There have been multi-a great many loyal devotees who have accepted those prophets. Every single such prescience have fizzled. None have ever happened. Score: reality of extremely genuine reality 1; confidence 0.

*We're despite everything pausing!

*Sorry Michele Bachmann and all related "End Times" fan, yet one more day has traveled every which way but then once more, God's a flake-out. Also, Jesus, of Second Coming distinction, gives off an impression of being somewhat late too. Did they neglect to set the morning timers? Did they miss the transport? Possibly their Holy Chariot had a level! Michele Bachmann and organization may accept that the end is near (and has been for very some extensive time) and the Rapture is impending (and has been for very some significant time also), yet I believe it's really ok for you to plan and pay for your next occasion and develop that savings for your long a long time in retirement.

With respect to Soul/Afterlife

*This may come as an amazement to numerous yet there was no confidence in an existence in the wake of death in antiquated Israeli Jewish people group. The main genuine reference to an existence in the wake of death in the Old Testament is at Daniel 12: 2. That is it. There are no different hits "forever endless" or "interminable life"; "life never-ending" or "never-ending life"; or "existence in the wake of death" or "eternal life" or even "restoration". So there's no area given for a life following death in the Old Testament on the grounds that with the one special case there is no understanding of an existence in the wake of death in the Old Testament and Daniel 12: 2 discussed no the hereafter area. Well that is truly amazing given the noticeable quality eternity gets in the New Testament. Maybe life following death was only an after-thought on God's part as in "hmm, it is extraordinary to have some consistent gracefully of new faces and friends to converse with me here upstairs on my eminent seat".

*As long as religions can dangle the hereafter carrot before the incredible unwashed (and furthermore taking into account the not very good washed), you'll never dispose of the organization (particularly when it utilizes countless individuals and produces billions in salary).

[assholemurphy]

Your Left Hand Man

Also on AO3

Stranger Things

Steve/Jonathan

Summary: Steve and Jonathan celebrate their two year dating anniversary with a movie, cuddled up in a theater while Jonathan reflects on their relationship. Steve has a plan to take their relationship to the next stage, regardless of what the law says.

Written for Stonathan Week 2017 - Prompt: Celebrations

Rating: General

Word Count:  3547

Warnings: None

It had been a long day for Jonathan, he’d had three separate appointments, one of which took nearly three hours, and honestly, he had gotten a bit more social since college, but spending three hours in a café with the world’s most annoying couple, who could not stop fighting over every little detail, wore him down quite a bit. He was looking forward to spending the night with Steve, just the two of them, to celebrate their two-year anniversary. That was, if Steve had remembered.

Jonathan wouldn’t fault him if he hadn’t, he’d been busy the past month, with work and his classes, he didn’t have much time to remember little details. And it wasn’t like Jonathan was the most romantic person, he liked it when Steve did romantic things, but he didn’t necessarily require them to be happy with the relationship. Just having Steve around was enough for him, everything else was just an added bonus. If Steve had forgotten, that was alright. They could celebrate another time, maybe on Steve’s next day off. Two years was worth celebrating, after all.

Jonathan shrugged to himself and began pulling things out of the fridge, noting that they’d have to go grocery shopping soon. He set to work preparing supper, nothing fancy, just some pasta, maybe a salad. He hadn’t planned to make a special dinner because of how late it would be when Steve got off work. And if he had gotten off work early, then they would have just gone out for dinner, instead, like they usually did on date night. In the beginning, having Jonathan cook for him had been a date in itself for Steve, but now that it happened nearly daily, it had become routine. Not that Jonathan wasn’t a decent cook, it just wasn’t exciting anymore. Still, Jonathan tried to keep up the variety. He’d recently found a box of old recipes his grandmother had passed down to his mother and was trying them out one by one, which Steve seemed to enjoy citing ‘My family doesn’t pass down anything but money, and even then, it’s not exactly special.’

Once supper was finished, Jonathan put some of it aside for Steve, so he could reheat it when he got home and took the rest to the living room to sit and eat in front of the television. He absentmindedly flipped through the stations, not really sure what he wanted to watch while he waited for Steve to get home in a couple hours.

Steve got home late most nights due to his job at the theater. He worked nights so he could attend classes at the community college in the next town over during the day. He was working towards becoming a physical education teacher, he planned to work at Hawkins when he graduated. He already coached a little league team and the kids loved him, so, with a lot of encouragement from Jonathan, he’d decided to go ahead and become a teacher. It took work, but he was doing well in his classes and was on track to graduate in a few years.

Jonathan never minded staying up for Steve. It wasn’t like he had to wake up all that early, usually, as he scheduled most of his appointments for the afternoon. His job wasn’t particularly demanding, so he was usually less tired than Steve, minus the days when he had to deal with fighting couples trying to decide on a wedding photographer. They’d decided he was good enough, in the end, but Jonathan wasn’t sure the marriage would even last long enough for him to develop the photos.

He’d become a pretty successful photographer after college, he did a lot of work for weddings and events, but his real passion was his side projects, which had finally gotten enough recognition for him to be published. A few of his photos hung in the town hall, too, which was quite the achievement in his eyes.

Jonathan looked up as the phone rang, a little surprised. It was too late in the evening for it to be any of his clients. He made his way over to it and picked it up, answering, “Harrington-Byers residence?”

“Come to the theater,” was the reply.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, babe,” Jonathan could picture the affectionate smile on Steve’s face. He really loved that man. “Come on, I’ve closed up. I thought we could catch a movie.”

“So, you did remember?”

“Of course, I did, John, how could I forget?”

Jonathan smiled to himself and shook his head. Of course, Steve would remember. Steve hadn’t forgotten a single important date since they’d begun dating. He paid so much attention to small details, it was one of the things that made Jonathan fall in love with him. “I’ll be there soon.”

He hung up the phone and grabbed his keys, locking their apartment and heading to his car. The drive to the theater was short, and Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder what Steve had planned.

In the early days of their relationship, the theater was where they went when they wanted some privacy and couldn’t get it at either of their houses. In the back of the theater, in the dark, they were safe from prying eyes and it gave them a sense of freedom they hadn’t been able to get anywhere else. Lately, though, now that they had their own place and didn’t need to sneak around, it had become less a place to hide and more an actual date spot. Steve would close up the theater and then he’d play whatever movie they were showing for him and Jonathan to watch alone and make fun of. Well, Jonathan made fun of them, Steve was far too easily invested in every cheesy romcom plot they played.

Steve was waiting for Jonathan outside the theater and the second he closed the door to his car he found himself being pressed against it and pulled into a bruising kiss. Jonathan laughed as Steve pulled back to trail kisses across his jaw before gently shoving him away, “Someone’s going to see us.” Not that it mattered, they lived together, he was sure people already had their suspicions about them, and honestly, it didn’t matter to him one bit.

“It’s one in the morning, I don’t think anyone’s going to care. Besides, with as long as your hair is now, you could pass as a girl,” Steve snorted, tugging on a lock of Jonathan’s hair before pulling back from him.

“Is that your way of telling me I need a haircut?” Jonathan asked, following Steve onto the sidewalk.

“Yes,” Steve confirmed.

“I’ll do it next week, alright? Now can we go inside?” Jonathan rolled his eyes and tucked the strand of hair behind his ear. Maybe it was getting too long. He hadn’t cut it in quite some time, so it was well past his ears, if he gave it another couple of months, he’d probably be able to wear it in a ponytail.

Steve huffed out a laugh and took Jonathan’s hand, leading him into the theater.

Jonathan leaned on the counter, watching his boyfriend clean out the popcorn maker, occasionally glancing back at Jonathan and giving him a grin that Jonathan read to mean he had something up his sleeve tonight, whatever it may be. Their snacks we placed on the counter near Jonathan, a bucket of popcorn, some gummy bears, and two sodas, waiting to be taken into the theater and shared while whatever movie Steve picked blared on in front of them.

They did this at least twice a month, Steve choosing whatever movie he thought Jonathan would like best out of all the choices, which didn’t necessarily mean he’d like it enough to pay attention. It was sweet of Steve to consider him, but more often than not, Jonathan took the time to cuddle up to Steve and just exist next to him for a while. It was nice, and Jonathan loved it every time, even when the movie was absolute garbage.

Steve had been so worried about them being seen together in the beginning. He hadn’t wanted to be disowned by his parents, hadn’t wanted to lose them, even if they’d never really loved him, the idea of being forced away from them was a hard one to face, but once he’d moved in with Jonathan, that worry had dissipated, for the most part. He no longer relied on his parents for anything, not money, not housing, and definitely not love. He’d found a new family in Ms. Byers and Hopper, who treated him like a son, and Will, who had taken a liking to him almost immediately, since he’d already had a good report with all of Dustin’s friends. They even managed to rope Jonathan and him into playing Dungeons and Dragons on occasion. He’d felt more love from Jonathan’s family than he’d ever felt from his own and the ache left over from the years of neglect was dulled in their presence.

So, Steve was no longer afraid of being seen with Jonathan. Sure, he wasn’t about to make out with Jonathan in the middle of main street during broad daylight, but he would hold his hand and had stopped worrying whether or not they were together. He said it didn’t matter because rumors were already flying about them, had been since they’d first started going out, but since they’d gotten their own place they’d only gotten worse. Jonathan didn’t care, he was used to people giving him weird looks, but he did worry about what it did to Steve, and whether it would eventually cause Steve to leave him.

But tonight wasn’t a night to be worrying about those things. He could worry all he wanted when he was alone, but he wasn’t going to work himself up to the point that he ruined this night for both of them. It did eat at him, though, some days, the thought that one day it might finally be too much for Steve to take. He shook his head and reminded himself that he hadn’t lost Steve yet, and it had been two years, so it wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

Steve returned from the projector room shortly before the opening credits ended and lead Jonathan into the dark theater, choosing seats in the middle of it because that was where they tested the sound quality from. The perks of having a theater to yourself meant that you could sit anywhere you like, and you didn’t have to worry about other people talking while you watched the movie. Not that Jonathan cared, if it wasn’t horror then it wasn’t interesting to him, these days. He’d seen a million romcoms with Steve and not a one interested him.

Steve smiled at him as he took his seat next to Jonathan, raising the bar between the seats so Jonathan could get closer. Jonathan wasted no time in snuggling up beside him, laying his head on Steve’s shoulder and just enjoying being with him. Steve perched the popcorn on his lap and ran his fingers through Jonathan’s hair, turning his attention to the screen.

Jonathan did his best to watch the movie, but fifteen minutes in he found himself rolling his eyes more than he actually watched the screen. It didn’t matter though, Steve had set this up for them and he’d do his best to participate. He sighed to himself and focused on the way it felt to have Steve’s fingers running through his hair, content to just stay there with him, no matter how boring the movie.

Still, he couldn’t believe it had been two years since they’d started dating. Honestly, in the beginning he had thought it was a joke, playboy Steve Harrington having a laugh by pretending to want to go out with a guy, but he’d proven himself more than serious and Jonathan had finally accepted. They’d gone to a diner a couple towns over for their first date and Jonathan had been nervous the whole time, though, not nearly as nervous as Steve. It was like he was trying to be perfect, every little detail had to be just right, and it had been amusing to watch at first, but amusement had quickly turned to concern, and Jonathan had asked him what was really going on.

Steve had admitted to not knowing what to do. It was his first date with a guy and he was scared he was going to fuck it up some how just by being him and then Jonathan wouldn’t want to go out with him again, which would suck, since Steve had wanted to ask him out before he’d even gone to college. Jonathan had been a little stunned that Steve had waited four years for him and when he pressed the issue, Steve had simply shrugged and said that he was worth it. Jonathan hadn’t been able to describe how he felt when Steve told him that, but looking back, he realized that was the moment he’d started falling for him. He’d had a lot of misconceptions about Steve in the beginning, but Steve had been more than willing to prove them wrong.

The next few dates had gone well, and Jonathan had expected Steve to make a move, after all, he was Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t. Jonathan had simply chalked it up to him wanting to be a gentleman for once, but after around the eighth date, Jonathan was curious and a little bit offended. When he’d asked, Steve had blushed and looked away, admitting he actually had no idea how to be with a guy and he didn’t want Jonathan to laugh at him for his inexperience, but he wasn’t having a very good time trying to find out that information, because it wasn’t like you could just go up to the local librarian and ask for a book on fucking guys, so he was a little stuck. Jonathan had understood and explained that, while Steve may not have known what to do, he did, college had taught him quite a bit, and he would help him through it whenever Steve was ready. It had taken a few more dates before Steve made his move one night when his parents were away on a business trip, and though it had been awkward as hell, over the years they’d definitely gotten better.

Jonathan sighed again and reached for another handful of popcorn, his hand brushing Steve’s as he did. Instead of pulling away, Steve ran his fingers up Jonathan’s wrist, smiling at him and pressing a kiss to his head. Jonathan blushed and grabbed the popcorn, picking out the unpopped kernels and tossing them back in the bucket. It was almost empty, but it seemed like the movie was almost over, so it didn’t matter.

“Oh!” Steve jumped, startled, when Jonathan began to speak. “Happy anniversary, I forgot to tell you that.”

Steve chuckled and tugged gently at Jonathan’s hair, earning him an affectionate smile he could just barely see. “You, too.”

The movie ended a few minutes later, Jonathan turning his attention back to the screen only to find out he had no actual idea what was going on. He stretched as the credits began to roll, reaching out for another handful of popcorn, his finger tips brushing against a hard object instead of the airy popcorn he was expecting. Thinking it was empty, he looked inside, just to make sure, and was puzzled when he found a dark black box nestled among the popcorn kernels. He picked it up, examining it as the credits ended and the lights came back on, since they were set on a timer so Steve wouldn’t have to go and manually turn them back on.

“Steve?” Jonathan asked, drawing the older man’s attention, “What’s this? And why was it in the popcorn?”

Steve gave him that same mischievous grin he’d given him before the movie that promised he had something planned, whether it was good or bad, Jonathan wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have an idea. “Open it.”

Jonathan was skeptical, because he doubted the conclusions his brain had jumped to, but upon opening the box, he felt his heart skip in his chest.

It was a ring, a simple silver band inside the black velvet box. He wasn’t sure what to say, his brain seemed to have short circuited. It wasn’t possible, they couldn’t, it wasn’t even legal, was it? “Steve? Is this-?”

“I know it’s only been two years, but they’ve been the best of my life,” Steve started, taking Jonathan’s hand. “I’ve been I plenty of relationships, but I’ve never been able to picture myself growing old with someone, I’ve never been able to see that far ahead, but with you, I want that. I want to love you for the rest of my life. I want to wake up beside you every morning and go to bed next to you every night. I want you, Jonathan, and I know it won’t be official, but we can still have a ceremony and have rings and be each other’s forever. I can’t picture my life without you. You’re the reason I’m in school, the reason I’m not afraid of my parents, the reason I have a real family now, you’re the reason I’m happy, Jonathan, happier than I’ve ever been. You’ve made my life so much better, and I want to spend the rest of it with you. I love you.”

“Steve-” Jonathan couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked up at Steve, who was giving him a look of complete sincerity, the same look he’d gotten when Steve had first asked him out, and Jonathan couldn’t stop the feeling of utter joy and love he felt in that moment.

“Jonathan Byers, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Jonathan nodded. “Yes, of course.” How could he not? He was utterly in love with Steve, had been since the first month they’d started dating. Truthfully, he’d been in love with him for longer, since before high school had even ended, but he’d never admitted it to himself. He’d gone away and expected to leave the feelings behind, but he hadn’t. Coming back home after college and seeing him again had taken his breath away, and having him ask him out had been a dream come true, so much so that Jonathan had initially questioned it, but he rarely questioned Steve anymore. He hadn’t ever expected anything more than living together, that was the most the law would allow, but Steve was right, he could wear the ring.

Steve beamed at him and reached out for the box, taking out the ring and holding his hand out for Jonathan’s. He slid the ring onto Jonathan’s finger and Jonathan looked down at it before looking up at Steve through his lashes, giving him a shy but steady look, “I love you, too.”

There was so much he wanted to express, so much love, but he had never been good at expressing himself through words. He generally let music and photography do the talking for him, but he felt the need to do something, so he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips, gentle and firm as he tried to convey all the emotion he felt with the gesture, growing more passionate as the kiss went on.

The kiss didn’t end until Steve’s hands were tangled in his hair and Jonathan was panting from lack of air, both smiling like idiots. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Jonathan ran his thumb across Steve’s bruised bottom lip, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so happy. He toyed with the idea of being with Steve forever, but he’d never mentioned it, afraid he’d scare him off, but Steve had proved him wrong. “Never thought you’d settle down. Never thought you were the type.”

“I wasn’t, but then I met you. I can’t imagine my future without you in it.”

“Well, aren’t I special.”

“You are, and I’m lucky to have you.”

Jonathan snorted and pulled him back in for another kiss, fully aware that he’d never be without Steve again. All his worrying had been for nothing. Steve wasn’t leaving, not ever, and nothing could make Jonathan happier.

“I want to take your last name,” Steve told him as they broke apart. “I know, legally, we can’t apply for a marriage license, but I can change my name, so what do you think?”

“What about your family?”

“You are my family. You and your mom, Hopper, and Will. You’ve been more of a family to me these past couple of years than my parents ever have been. I don’t care about them or their legacy. So, can I?” Steve asked, worrying his lip between his teeth, unsure of what Jonathan’s reaction would be.

“If that’s what you want.” Jonathan wouldn’t object if it made Steve happy.

“It is.”

“Well, then, Steve Byers, welcome to the family,” Jonathan told him, resting his forehead against Steve’s and intertwining their fingers. They had a very long and very happy future ahead of them and Jonathan couldn’t wait to spend all of it with Steve.

[chimchimssenpai-blog]

Some Anti-Theist Religious Bits & Pieces: Round Thirteen

Of those Big Questions vital to philosophical ideas that encompass life, the universe and everything, the domains of religious philosophy and religions and the idea of divinities keep on entrancing. Feelings multiply in books, articles, recordings, discussions in bars and bars, and in reality anyplace and wherever at least two people are in closeness. There's the professional side; there's the counter side. There aren't an excess of fence-sitters. I'm still in the counter camp as the accompanying odds and ends delineate.

With respect to

*You needn't bother with a divine being to have significance and reason in your life.

*There is one quality that the multi-a large number of contrasting strict conviction frameworks/religious philosophies have displayed and that is the intensity of the human creative mind to intensely proceed to envision fanciful ideas never envisioned. The world would be a less vivid and intriguing spot without our different legends Image source The Diamond Club.

*I think there ought to be obligatory strict and Biblical training in schools since that ought to guarantee a constant flow of skeptics growing up and entering the network!

*Religions regularly do great in order to veil the insidious they do, yet would now be able to do without any potential repercussions.

*The Catholic Church: AIDS is awful however the utilization of condoms is more awful since God doesn't support of 'contraception' in any capacity whatsoever. It is obviously instructed in Africa by Catholics that utilizing condoms makes "Infant Jesus cry". Bizarre.

*Then too we had the Catholic Church's Index of Prohibited Books. It wasn't only the Nazis that consumed books. Presently you must be extremely unreliable and uncertain of your religious philosophy and how to shield it on the off chance that you need to take cover behind a brought down window ornament that outcomes by the editing of unique conclusions. It's simply one more nail in Christianity's casket.

*There's no more proof for casual and complicated strict conviction (like being otherworldly without being an individual from any proper strict clique/association/church) than officially sorted out religion. It's all only a type of "charm".

*When it comes to religion, "when in doubt refrain from interfering" True Believers are particularly in the minority. (Through Greta Christina).

*Any religion is only a working speculation about how life, the Universe and everything, except particularly the world, works. All things considered, that religion is dependent upon investigation and reply and being tested and adjusted as would some other working theory from some other topical zone or of topic of worry to people, from the sciences through to political frameworks.

*We don't will in general go out on the town to shop for the brand of religion we need among the entirety of the extraordinary and broadly varying brands of religion on offer and afterward picking the most reasonable the manner in which we accomplish for the multi brands of parcels of scones on offer at the grocery store or for a particular brand or style mark of dress at the women design shop and garments division. Rather we continue eating/wearing a similar brand over and over and again in light of the fact that that was only the manner in which we were raised. Moreover, we will in general keep the religion that was forced on us when we were kids. This is to some extent because of convention (in the event that it was adequate for Mum and Dad its sufficient for me) just as family/social weight. Obviously in certain social orders the weight verges on real physical dangers and disciplines in the event that you stray from the acknowledged overlap.

*Thanks to Christianity and its all-adoring, all-simply, all-tolerant God, more than 50,000 blameless individuals were tormented and executed - they were designated "witches" however were not any more real witches than the individuals who turned the thumb-screws, fixed the rack, and light the blazes encompassing the stake. Coincidentally, this training is as yet going on in numerous remote territories in immature nations. God (and His hirelings here on earth) should drape their heads in disgrace for Exodus 22: 18 "Thou will not endure a witch to live".

As to versus Science

*According to Leviticus 11: 6 and Deuteronomy 14: 7, rabbits (for example - bunnies) cheweth the cud. This obviously is zoological babble. Chalk up one more Biblical uh oh.

*The all inclusive pattern over all of written history is that regular clarifications have displaced, ordinarily surpassed in informative force, powerful (for example - strict) clarifications. I'd wager that is a pattern that will fight the good fight.

As to and Belief

*Saying that you simply know something (without proof to back up your insight) is simply not a pathway to truth.

*If you state your confidence bests proof then you are absolutely impervious to both self-revision and impervious to disagree.

*Religious conviction is confidence in the mysterious. There's not a single confirmation in sight in the strict pudding. Any confirmation to be discovered comes after you've kicked-the-basin and by then it's short of what was expected, to tell anybody.

*The thought of choosing what's actual dependent on what you need to be genuine is preposterous in the extraordinary. The truth is the thing that the truth is and your convictions actually are superfluous. So any conviction framework that urges individuals to disregard the truth is a terrible conviction framework and that covers Christianity directly down through and including New Age "Charm".

*The prime instructing of monotheistic strict faith in an imperceptible enchantment man in the sky is a conspicuous model known to software engineers of GIGO - Garbage In; Garbage Out.

*Christian: You need to regard my convictions.

Nonbeliever: No! I may regard you similar to a genuine and affable individual yet that doesn't mean I need to regard what you put stock in.

*You reserve an option to your private strict convictions until such time as you go too far and your strict convictions enter the open field and begin to hurt others.

*It's deceptive in the extraordinary for you to basin the strict convictions of others when those convictions don't fit in with your convictions and afterward anticipate that your strict convictions should get a free pass.

As to and Miracles

*For the Catholic Church to announce some occasion as a genuine marvel (for example Fatima, October 1917), well that is much the same as a genuine adherent to Bigfoot or the Yeti proclaiming that a photo of a disintegrated 'primate' impression in the snow is supreme verification of same. Genuine devotees will clearly underwrite occasions that reflect proof for their actual conviction.

With respect to

*The thought that strict confidence consequently makes you a decent and good individual is ridiculous in the extraordinary. Detainment facilities in America, Canada, Western Europe, Australia, and so forth are loaded with Christians. Detainment facilities in Muslin nations are brimming with detainees of the Islamic confidence. And afterward as well, shouldn't something be said about those individuals of the fabric and the neckline - like Catholic (and other) clerics and other ministry who utilize their places of power to 1) intellectually misuse little kids with startling dangers of everlasting discipline in Hell and 2) who truly misuse youngsters in their consideration, particularly captivating in sexual maltreatment. Furthermore, that is simply starting to expose the shades of malice submitted by those maintaining strict confidence.

Concerning End Times

*Faith is a vessel! Proof? There have been a large number of exact prophetic figures made by the unwavering for the End Times; End of Days; the Second Coming; the Rapture; Armageddon; the Apocalypse, and so on. There have been multi-a large number of reliable adherents who have accepted those prophets. Every single such prediction have fizzled. None have ever happened. Score: reality of extremely genuine reality 1; confidence 0.

*We're despite everything pausing!

*Sorry Michele Bachmann and all related "End Times" aficionados, yet one more day has gone back and forth but then once more, God's absent. What's more, Jesus, of Second Coming distinction, gives off an impression of being somewhat late also. Did they neglect to set the morning timers? Did they miss the transport? Perhaps their Holy Chariot had a level! Michele Bachmann and organization may accept that the end is near (and has been for very some significant time) and the Rapture is inescapable (and has been for very some extensive time also), yet I believe it's really alright for you to plan and pay for your next occasion and develop that savings for your long a long time in retirement.

As to Soul/Afterlife

*This may come as a shock to numerous however there was no confidence in an existence in the wake of death in antiquated Israeli Jewish people group. The main genuine reference to a the hereafter in the Old Testament is at Daniel 12: 2. That is it. There are no different hits "forever unceasing" or "interminable life"; "life everlasting" or "everlasting life"; or "the great beyond" or "post-existence" or even "restoration". So there's no area given for an existence in the wake of death in the Old Testament in light of the fact that with the one special case there is no understanding of a life following death in the Old Testament and Daniel 12: 2 talked about no the hereafter area. Well that is really astounding given the noticeable quality existence in the wake of death gets in the New Testament. Maybe existence in the wake of death was only an after-thought on God's part as in "well, it is extraordinary to have some relentless stockpile of new faces and friends to converse with me here upstairs on my wonderful position of authority".

*As long as religions can dangle existence in the wake of death carrot before the extraordinary unwashed (and furthermore in perspective on the not all that good washed), you'll never dispose of the foundation (particularly when it utilizes a huge number of individuals and creates billions in pay).

With respect to and Hell

*Regarding reports of the individuals who have had a look at paradise, the individuals who have revealed Near Death Experiences (NDEs), why no sightings of extraterrestrials in paradise? Is it on the grounds that there are no outsiders? Is it since outsiders don't go to paradise? Is it since outsiders have their own paradise?

*Faithful Christians go to Heaven. Steadfast Muslims likewise go to Heaven. Be that as it may, the Heaven that dedicated Muslims go to is most likely not equivalent to the Heaven devoted Christians go to. That would be unbalanced and to some degree muddled. (by means of Jason Boyett)

*Actually no one (as in mortal human True Believers) have ever climbed up to or in any case gone up to Heaven as per John 3: 13. I don't know how that jives with the narrative of Elijah (2 Kings 2: 1 and 2 Kings 2: 11).

[artofpeacelove]

When the outside is off limits, you run out of of fun and fresh things to do inside. Like once you’re down readjusting your schedule in between fits of power sobbing, you just get bored by the monotony of your scenery. I remember when I first realized this would be a problem, when my roommate told me, “I feel like we need to download TikTok.” “No, we’re 29, Amber,” I said. “Not even in an apocalypse.”

This was three weeks ago; you’ll understand that it was a different world back then.

1. Tie-dye your old T-shirts

Getting in touch with tie-dye will (literally) add some color to your drab existence.

2. Make friendship bracelets

Keeping on that summer camp train, friendship bracelets can ease you in a state of flow (and make for celebratory “We made it!” gives for when you reunite with your buds).

3. Learn a new card game

Blackjack? Poker? Go Fish?

4. Play a new virtual game with friends online

America is under Animal Crossing’s soothing lure right now, but we’re also very partial to these games you can play remotely with the whole damn gang.

5. Host a cocktail making competition

It could be virtual or it could be in your own home, but let’s see who gets the most creative with the ingredients left on their bar cart!

6. Put together outfits with the clothes you never wear

If there comes a day when you’ve exhausted black sweatpants—and I respect that some of you live there now—test out some of the lesser-used garments from your closet. You might find some hidden gems!

7. Learn how to French braid

Fishtail is fine, too, but this slumber party hairstyle is great for when you need to remember a simpler time.

8. Remove your split ends

Don’t cut your own bangs, we’re not that deep into quarantine for that kind of judgement call, but you can fix split ends safely without going hack-happy.

9. Become a ballerina

Has it always been your secret dream? Break the tights and tutu out, because there are about a gazillion online ballet classes that can make you feel like a regular Swan Queen.

10. Sew face masks

Even if homemade faces masks won’t directly protect from the coronavirus, they’re a kindness with a practical, ultimately prosocial use: they can stop you from touching your face.

11. Take a crash course in positivity

Hell, get an Ivy League joy degree with Yale University or University of Pennsylvania.

12. Get in touch with your birth chart

Learn how to read your natal chart and decrypt the nitty gritty of your star-sanctioned personality.

13. Do some purge-writing about something that’s frustrating you

Chances are you have some grievances right now. Get out a piece of paper and some wacky colored pens and blergh out all of your negative emotions. Look at a few days later and then put it through the shredder!

14. Take a virtual tour of a museum

Even if you’re not going to Paris in the spring like you planned (le sigh) you can still take a stroll through the Louvre or any number of venues to get a culture fix.

15. Redecorate your house with witchcraft

I actually gave my apartment home makeover with witchcraft last year and would highly recommend! I mean, there’s bad juju all around us and you might as well make your space a sanctuary while you’re stuck there.

16. Have a romantic solo date

I was pioneering enjoying being alone way way before it was…mandated by the government, so here’s my night-in take on my solo date idea: pour some wine, make your favorite (cauliflower) pasta, light some candles, and crank up the Frank Sinatra. You can decide if you want to take yourself home (lol) later.

17. Have a kitchen dance party

Do dance parties as much as possible! Do it with your partner! Do it with your long distance friends! Do it with yourself if you need to! Just do it!

18. Upgrade your daily stretch with laughter yoga

Head to YouTube to give yourself some lols, no downward dog required.

19. Watch the adorable penguins at the Bronx Zoo grow up

Wildly specific but there are two baby blue penguin chicks at the Bronx Zoo right now and your girl is following their every MOVE. Incidentally you can also take a virtual tour of the zoo, and heads up, there’s snow leopards!

20. Hula hoop for exercise

As the office’s resident Mrs. Maisel, hula hooping is the best form of exercise in the world, and we all should be doing it.

21. Make a gratitude jar

Write three things you’re grateful for every day and put it in the jar—highly beneficial if you’re quarantining with family and trying to not be at each other’s throats.

22. Interview yourself

Just sent my roommate a bunch of soul-searching questions, really get to know who you are and what you love about yourself.

23. Take your self-pleasure to the next level

We know times are tight, so we have some affordable sex toys, and household items you can use in a pinch.

24. Dye your hair a cotton candy color

If you’ve ever felt self-conscious or like you couldn’t pull it off, you know… f–k it. I’m rocking Manic Panic hot pink as part of my go-to isolation aesthetic.

25. Write letters to pen pals

Make a new senior friend in a nursing home or pen love letters to your long distance (read: housebound a few miles away) sweetie. Just because we can access everyone through technology doesn’t mean people don’t want written words to hold onto (don’t worry, mail is most likely safe).

26. Upcycle your old clothes

If you’re not really into a modern day hippie aesthetic, there are other ways to reinvent and repair your old threads.

27. Make some whipped coffee

I can’t lie, it looks delicious and worthy of all the Instagram love.

28. Declutter your entire home

You’re already disinfecting like crazy, go full Marie Kondo while you’re at it.

29. Dust off your grandparents’ old recipes and give them a whirl

Pull out the index cards and even Zoom them in while you’re cooking them (unless they’re like, gone, which is still a good reason to recreate YiaYia’s avgolemono soup.

30. Ask your parents to tell you a story about their childhood

I don’t know, even after a full year of “Ok Boomer,” we do feel very protective and loving towards our parents during this crisis.

31. Explore some of the most beautiful National Parks in America

Until you can explore them in person, this go for a virtual nature walk.

32. Fill every inch of your house with daffodils

Or whatever flower you find fitting, bring the outdoors indoors!

33. Read the entire Baby-Sitters Club series

During Zoom happy hour we played a trivia game, and you know who crushed the Baby-Sitters Club series? Your girl. There are 131 books total, so either check back in with Kristy and the gang for the nostalgia factor, or literally read this ridiculous YA series as a bizarro adult project.

34. Do absolutely nothing

Lol, I mean, that’s going to be a first for some of you! Enjoy the moment of sitting there and being idle!

35. Do an online workout with pop icon Cher

I mean, you can definitely do a more dignified online workout, but I’m going to start my morning with Cher’s 1980s hot dance.

36. Try out a new kind of meditation

Maybe a grounding root chakra meditation or a compassion meditation.

37. Take a bath with all the trimmings

Bath bombs, bubbles, salts, if you’ve upgraded from your garbage apartment to somewhere nice, indulge yourself.

38. Watch a movie remotely with your crush

The Netflix Party extension can help you there!

39. Redecorate your desk space

I mean, you might as well jazz up your home office while living that WFH life.

40. If you’re partnered, have an hour long make-out sesh

I’m sure your boinking like crazy, but why not kick it old school and simply enjoy kissing?

41. Spend about a trillion hours on Pinterest

Fill your feed with literally everything you love!

42. Practice a new language

There are plenty of language apps available to train you for when we can travel again.

43. Start teletherapy

It might feel weird at first, but transitioning to virtual therapy could be really worth it in this high stress time.

44. Make a playlist of absolutely flawless jams

Or check out this masterpiece editor Jessie Van Amburg blessed us with.

45. Bake banana bread

Sure, why not, everyone else is doing it.

46. Give tarot card readings, regardless of whether you know how to read tarot

I find it’s kind of funner to wing it, but here’s some simple tarot tips if you really want to learn.

47. Finally get into Podcasts

Hell, even make one if you want to, it’s the end of the world, babe.

48. Do some living room miles

Get your steps in with meditative walking.

49. Make a “Me Altar”

This is basically just a collection of items that worships the awesomeness of you, whether that’s a polaroid from a day you looked amaze to some rose quartz crystals

50. Have a Zoom brunch date with your best friend and be extra petty

Just like back in the good old days when you were overpaying for avo toast.

51. And a coffee date with all your work wives

Because the Zoom Happy Hours don’t really give you quality catch up time.

52. Get yourself a new toy

This $20 vibrator will serve you well in isolation.

53. DIY your usual manicure

If you were a former salon queen, we have some tips on how to do it the right way.

54. Organize your old photos in a photo album

To remember the good old days.

55. Watch all of Buffy the Vampire Slayer

It’s a show that features nothing but how to survive apocalypses, so now is the time to start if you haven’t already.

56. Order and install a bidet seat

Toilet paper is over.

57. Download TikTok

Ew. I mean, if you want.

This all being said, it’s okay if you’re not feeling your most productive right now. And if you’re social distancing alone, this is how to recreate human touch. 

from Good Advice – Well+Good https://ift.tt/2UGV4Uw via IFTTT

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[somedaypast-thesunset]

I tell him in plain language I haven't eaten and have no money for food. He offers to loan me money and that I can come over. But it's -2 and all my cold weather wear is garbage from the 5 min I spent just going to the store. He says he has to charge his phone. I'm like OK but u can also do it on your laptop. "yeah but then I'd have to find my wallet". I gave a huge exaggerated laugh because who the fuck responds to someone asking to eat like 5hat? He thinks my reply is weird. I tell him I assume he's joking so I'm laughing otherwise I'm just depressed. He replies, "do you need money now?"

SO GCDFHJFFDXDJKCFYBVXSSJKCF

DO I NEED TO EAT TODAY? DO I? GYESS NOT BECAYSE I WOYLDNT WANT TO BORHER YOU TO FIND YOUR FUCKING WALLET.

the only mature non combative response I had was no response because I'm not even dignifying such a stupid fucking question with a response. Fuck you man. Just fuck you. I'd get more respect sucking dick for 40$. Quicker too.

And I'm trying soooooooo hard and it's just nothing. I'm doing nothing but expending the absolute most amount of effort I currently have before becoming sooo exhausted and frustrated that I'm becoming impulsively violent - much like traits I had very young that I worked to control. Like my day consists of waking up and being brought home. I smoke weed, find a podcast or video or movie to listen to but barely pay attention and try to bring myself to do anything. Like changing my clothes from yesterday. Going out to get food (which if I do is my entire morning and I'm done after). Lately I want soooo badly to get back into my shit. I used to be productive. Like I lost alllllllllllllllllllllllll drive for anything. I cannot fathom going to a job. My whole disposition says I want to die every moment I'm awake. I watched this doc about this crazy lady who starved to death in an abandoned house on an occupied street like ppl walked by the house she had neighbors but she like actively chose to just starve and die. And everyone's so confused like oh the neighbors were there she could've gotten food but no. I get this lady. I am this lady right now. I am in an abandoned house that is my body and my neighbors can see I'm here but they don't care if anyone is home. They wouldn't feed me.

In some ways I was like oh no. This lady is me. But she was delusional. Like she made ppl up. I haven't ever. But I am becoming like my mother more and more but I guess I empathize more. This lady was so depressed like she really wanted to die all the time and she was miserable and couldn't keep friends and I get it now. I got it before but now I really get it because there's no choice anymore. At some point you like... You're standing on the edge of the abyss and then u let go and from that point on its just free falling out of control. You can't stop it once it's hit full momentum. And I'm screaming cuz I did the drugs. And I can do them again so I can placebo effectvmyself for 2 weeks and crash again. I am existing solely for the purpose of a few other ppl right now. Like I can't die right here because my roommate has to find it and he's the last person I want to find dead me. Like if a stranger could spot a body that is me, that'd be good. Or like a dog finds me first. I want to go in a forest. I want my body to refuel the earth and I want animals to tear me apart like when the Indians let vultures eat their dead. I'm dead you know. People have too much control. I'm used to no control and I embrace the lack of control one has in death despite society trying sooo hard. And I'm still there you know cuz I want to control when I die. I wan5 to choose and death is not about choice. And it's hard to die. Killing yourself takes like extreme effort. I cannot selfishly take my cats with me tho I want to. I want to die with my cat in my arms, the only thing that ever really loved me besides my dad. I just want to go far far out where it's no coming back. Like even if I last minute didn't want to I want to be so far out in the woods I can5 make it back in such condition so I just die because wanting to live is the moment of weakness. This is not a moment. I am not in a decade long moment. I am suffering and I hurt and the "system" is a fools game. Like it took 100 yrs to accept certain medications and procedures as fucked up because it takes society 100 yrs to figure anything out and like I guess my hope is that because we're evolving technology so fast maybe in 5 years they will know how to fix depression. They will look in my brain and s3e the suffering and fix it. And I'll flick a switch and my memories will be neutral in feeling, not ptsd.

It's not even ptsd anymore. No, it's not JUST ptsd anymore. It's the starting long term effects of poverty. It's like.. My own mental issues maturing with me as I'm getting older and it's not easier at all?

Like I tried to do my shop and realized its so half assed and like I can't be this age and present this level of effort. I can do better I just chose not to but I spend effort doing it half assed still. I took apart 80% of my jewelry and have yet to go back to it because why. And that's sad. Like I have to be careful now to maintain what I do have or I may not care enough to do it again. I have alllllllllllllllllllllllll the time in the world to do something. Anything. Any. Thing. And I've listened to 350 episodes of last podcast, know deeply a 38 yr old man I never met who plays video games online, watched anything deemed good on Netflix, am totally up to date on s3veral news websites and podcasts and I smoke like 400$ worth of weed a month.

I don't even want to know me.

But like.. I don't pretend I just don't talk. I talk to others, share commentary occasionally but I just don't talk about anything. I especially don't talk about how depressed I am because it just bothers ppl and creates both positive and negative opinions none of which are helpful to the illness.

So im very very secluded. And I used to use isolated but that's negative. That's saying I'm forced into it. I'm forcing it. I'm not. I actively choose it now so I am secluded and extremely private.

I'm still trying though? Like I don't even know why. Today I signed up for usertesting sites because I already do contract tests for consumer reviews so maybe I'll make some money but at the same time I feel like its another dead end. Just go work at McDonald's.

Art wise, there is so much I could do to revamp my shop. All new, well made jewelry. I need all new photos including ones of my art with close ups and stuff. I want to "graduate" my art skills a bit. Like really make nice well cut paper with borders for matting and start to sign my work and like all of this means higher quality so a higher price. I can do fucking better. And honestly I'm not doing anything else right now. My mind is completely disabled and to consider working is laughable now. I know I'm not going to so I can stop being anxious about it. Fuck em. I've been doing a depression project for charity cuz that's what I did earlier this year too but this one is more personal. I have 3/5 of what I wanted for my goal but at the same time what I made is so.. Average. It's not great at all. It's just iok and does the job and I tried my best but maybe I didn't? The fact 3/5 have all turned out with fairly major issues makes me feel less inclined to continue and the whole thing pointless cuz why give something to the homeless that sucks. So u can feel good?

I don't want therapy or medication. I deeply hate society and most of humanity. I used to be OK with it and I wanted to be apart of it but I was so shit on by so many people that I can't do it anymore. It's not worth it. 30 years of shit for like 30 y3ars of average? Cool.

Still trying tho. Still asked for money for food and I'll go hungry today but I'll havevmoney tomorrow I guess. That's life. Me and the 45 ppl on main St homeless. Somedays you eat Somedays you don't. He will probably realize at some point he made a mistake - hopefully. Because if I have to chase him for it, I'm probably going to hang out by myself tomorrow too.

I'm now worried I have no good winter clothes and my boots have holes in them. I'm already in super debt. I have to get a new jacket and boots before it snows. I could've gotten an extra 10 if I braved the cold for 25 min tonight but I'm just so tired I don't care enough. I can't talk to anyone about this. Then I'm just poor and a burden cuz I have no job and spend money on weed. And I did. I put myself far into debt just for weed. I'm now working on this plan that since I've quit smoking I must be up some money so I'll slowly build funds back up by not smoking and not spending crazy. Which even now sounds bullshit. But I'm trying the testing thing as well. If I get my shop up before Xmas rush. These are reasons to try but I'm only trying because d3pression put me in debt. If I wasn't this sad I wouldn't spend this money. I wouldntvlive like this.

Honestly until I get this money I don't even have funds for the bus to get my birth control. At the same time tho I was willing to sit all of this out and wait but I have like 7 days to be paid and I can't go 7 days without eating at all.

I spent myblast 3$ on cat food and honestly just this run down alone describes how insane I am. Like there's no way it's OK for me to be on my own to this degree. No sound psychologist would say yes 100% clearly functioning on their own in need of no assistance. If someone described this to me in my moments of sound mind I would be like this bitch is dead in atleast 5 years. Prob less. Meds aren't enough. Therapy is not enough. And I don't deserve to be in a psych ward because my capacity for reasoning and logic is fully there and it's unfair to have success in q team monitored to be released into the same conditions you know.

What am I doing when my father's gone? This because no one recognized that in a Co dependent relationship there are two people who are d3oendent not just one and instead of really assessing the situation people chose to think I was lazy and living off my father (even tho I was not) ignoring severe depression and suicidal t3ndencies. Thanks.

I am the abandoned house.

Today I was trying to get ready to leave when he said he still wanted to smoke from my bong and ohh where do I have to go that's so important. And it's not just him. It's anyone who knows myclife. They d3cided my time has less value because someone who's not them d3cided to pay me money in exchange for menial tasks. Since I don't have that my time is meaningless and they can not show up to qppts or show up late or leave late or make me wait X amount of time cuz I have all the time in the world. They work u know. But I no longer care. For the people who know me I'm no longer accepting this and just going about my lif3 without them. For those who don't, I'm no longer going to share anything about my life with anyone. I'm just as valuable as you. My time is equally of worth. Fuck you for ever thinking different.

Just remember - anyone else alive, not your problem.

[nancypullen]

Wake Up and Make Up

A couple of days ago my sister and I were talking about makeup.  We’ve been talking about makeup since I was in kindergarten. No lie.  Those tiny Avon sample lipsticks were our gateway drug and we’ve had a monkey on our backs ever since.  Here’s the thing though,  I’m not one bit sorry.  Trust me, I’ve heard all of those passive-aggressive remarks like, “Oh, I never wear makeup, who has the time?”  Me, I do.  It’s not for everyone and I’d never dream of telling another woman what she should or shouldn’t do with her face.  That said, I get asked A LOT what I use/wear/recommend.  Not because anyone wants to look like me (I’ll be 55 next month, I’m no one’s goal) but because people know that I am a Sephora junkie who absolutely loves to play with cosmetics and find out what’s new, what works, what’s wonderful, and all that.  They’d probably be surprised to learn that this is my daily face.  Super quick and super easy.

Disclaimer:  I am not a photographer and this was not a glamour photo shoot.  I pulled these items out of my makeup bag and snapped them on the bathroom counter. Deal with it.  First things first.  I love this IT Cosmetics CC cream.  It’s nourishing and it’s got 50 SPF, so that’s kind of fabulous. The tube has a pump which is really nice and a little goes a long way. I’ve had this tube since May and it’s easily got another two or three months worth in it. There’s not a huge shade range, but because it’s a CC cream it tends to blend well and I think most people could find a match.  I wear medium in the winter and medium tan in the summer.  This tube is $38, but if you check the Sephora website you can purchase a little travel tube for $15.  I’m sure it’s sold elsewhere, but I’m a loyal Sephora customer.

Next up is this fabulous little multi-tasker.  It’s Bobbi Brown’s Pot Rouge and it’s for cheeks AND lips.  Score!  I use the color Blushed Rose and I love it.

As  *ahem*  a woman of a certain age, I find that creams are kinder to my skin than layers of powders.  I tap my middle finger on this rich color and just sort of dab it on the apples of my cheeks.  Then I repeat for my lips.  It provides lasting color and it feels good on my lips.  This compact will run you $32, but remember that’s cheeks and lips. Let’s talk eyes.  I’ve never been one to wear a lot of cosmetics on my eyes.  Maybe it’s because my brother always called me “bug eyes” when we were kids and I’m still a little self-conscious about them, or maybe it’s because I find one color on my lids to be plenty.  If we’re going out for a fancy-schmancy evening I might add a little navy blue smear to the crease on top of my standard brown shadow.  I think nearly every eye color looks fabulous with a little dark blue accent.  But my go-to is a little pot of cream shadow from MAC.

Here’s the thing about eye shadow (in my humble opinion).  Most women already have pretty eyes, and you really don’t want to hide them, you just want to frame them.  Again, just my opinion, if you feel best with seven colors of glitter on your lids, then you go rock that.  I’ve almost always just worn a subtle shade of brown, sometimes a plum brown, because I once read in Seventeen magazine that’s what you should wear if you have green eyes.  The shade you see above is Constructivist from MAC Cosmetics.  I also have a lighter brown that I wear in the winter, Groundwork.  As we age, that space between the eyebrow and the lid starts to look heavy.  What do we do when we want something to recede? Color it dark!  My loyalty to brown eye shadow has paid off because a swipe of color that’s a couple shades darker than your skin tone can make that droopy upper lid recede.  Or at least give the illusion that it does. These Mac Paint Pot beauties run about $19 and they last for-ev-er.  Seriously, you’ll get your money’s worth out of every product I’m listing.  Besides, people think nothing of dropping $30 for a pizza dinner that literally turns to poop, or twice that much on garden mulch that they’ll rake up at the end of the season.  I have a friend who will only use scented garbage bags and special orders them (newsflash, your garbage still smells like garbage) but wont splurge on a good foundation.    I used to justify my cosmetics because I cut and color my own hair, I rarely spend on clothes, I don’t have expensive hobbies, and blah,blah,blah.  Now I just admit that I like makeup and I think it’s okay to use good quality products on your FACE.  No apologies.   And that brings us to my favorite product of all... The cheese stands alone.

 This, my friends, is Giorgio Armani’s Black Ecstasy mascara.  It is made with the tears of angels and unicorn fluff.  I don’t know what sorcery is involved in the making of this stuff, and I don’t care.  It’s $32 and worth every penny.  I’d give up every other product but this one.  Over the years I’ve tried drugstore mascaras and they always irritated my eyes.  I graduated to Clinique and Estee Lauder and they were fine.  In fact, for years I used whatever was on sale or in the “gift with purchase” at my local department store cosmetics counter...and they were all fine. Just fine.  Then Sephora sent me a sample of Armani’s and that was all over.  One swipe, honestly just one swipe is all it takes to coat and separate my lashes.  You don’t have to go all Tammy Faye to get lush lashes. I dip and swipe on my right eye, then dip and swipe on my left eye, and finish by running the brush horizontally across the bottom lashes of each eye with what’s left.  It doesn’t flake and get in my eyes, and there’s nothing in it that irritates.  It’s my true love. My soul mate. So that’s my makeup routine, 4 products.  My look rarely changes.  I’m pretty boring.  These photos are all spaced about a month apart.  *YAWN*

 Don’t judge me.  I’ve never taken a great photo in my life.  Or maybe I really do just look goofy all the time. The last picture is my norm.  I somehow always manage to look like a cocker spaniel who needs to go out. I’m not wrong.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t add my other favorite lipstick to this list.  I’ve been buying it for several years, since it made its debut, and I’m still in love with it.  

Bare Minerals Liquid Lipstick in the color XYZ.  That’s the color I’m wearing in the first two pics and the Bobbi Brown Blushed Rose is in the third picture.  There’s not a huge difference, but the XYZ is a warmer color and the Blushed Rose is obviously pinker and cooler.  This Bare Minerals lipstick is fantastic.  It goes on super creamy with a little doe foot applicator and dries down to a matte finish that will last alllll day. When I wear it I always pop a spot of gloss on my bottom lip, or at least a little Carmex - I think I’m too old for a super matte lip, but maybe I’m too old for gloss.  Maybe no one cares. Either way, this tube is always in my makeup bag. Don’t think for a minute that just because I’ve listed only a few products here that I don’t have drawers upon drawers full of palettes, winter colors, summer colors, fancy night out colors, that one red lipstick that I really want to wear but I look like Cruella de Vil when I do....and more.  This list is my automatic, never-fails-me, done-in-5-minutes face.  None of these things will hide all of the crinkles I’m getting around my eyes.  I’ll let you know right away if I find that miracle product.  I use a cleanser and moisturizer from Paula’s Choice.  They run $10 or $11 dollars and the bottles are large and will last months and months.  I love and trust Paula’s Choice - Paula Begoun is the woman who wrote my bible, Don’t Go to the Cosmetics Counter Without Me.  You can read about that here: https://www.paulaschoice.com/who-we-are/about-paula.html I hope that these ramblings answer a few questions.  What works for me might not work for you. Hopefully the products I’ve shared here are universal enough that they’d be a nice addition to anyone’s war paint.  If you want to expand your inventory, stop at any Sephora and ask for samples.  I’ve had them pump two or three foundations at a time into little sample pots. They’re happy to do it.  They have an exceptional return policy where they’ll take back a product (with the receipt), no questions asked - so they’d much rather you take home a sample than return a full-sized item.  Another bonus, Sephora employees do not receive commission. You won’t get a hard sell or a pushy employee trying to fill your bag for their benefit.  I like that.  Now, if you go to your local Sephora and encounter a snotty girl who acts like assisting you or providing samples is a bother, ask for a manager - that’s not okay.  I’ve never had that issue, but I’ve also not been to every Sephora.  I take that back, the super models in the Sephora  on Champs d'Elysées in Paris were kind of rude - but that may have been a combination of a language barrier and the fact that I looked like a Hobbit who’d been caught in the rain.  Still, not okay. Wear it, don’t wear it, be as natural or as glamorous as you like. But whatever you choose, do it for yourself.   I paint my face for me.  I like it.  I don’t do this for other women, and I sure as heck don’t do it for men.  I’m not spending money on a lipstick for someone that I wouldn’t trust to pick a paint color.   Mine is the only opinion that matters when it comes to my face, my body, my hair, my clothes, etc.  Get that set in your mind and you’ll enjoy your days. P.S.  Even though I mentioned Sephora a million times and shared specific brands, this is not a sponsored post and I’m not promoting or advertising for anyone.  But hey, if Sephora is listening I wouldn’t get mad at a gift card.  My husband would probably appreciate it. 

[soul-in-the-bowl]

Mrs Tuat banh can are a must in Hoi An!

EDIT |pl| Pani Tuat zmieniła miejsce + pojawiła się równoprawda druga królowa banh can - napiszę o tym wkrótce. |eng| Mrs Tuat has changed her location + there is a new, equally good banh can queen in the city - I'll share more info soon. |pl| Trudno w Wietnamie o miejsce, którego nie pokocham, a to za sprawą jedzenia i ludzi, którzy to jedzenie serwują. Nawet w najmniej ciekawym, najbrzydszym miasteczku, przy wielopasmowej ulicy pełnej trąbiących, pędzących ciężarówek, skuterów i busów, wśród kałuż i stert śmieci, można znaleźć malutkie stoisko, gdzie spracowana wietnamka wyczaruje specjalnie dla Ciebie dodatkowy plastikowy stołeczek, obdarzy wyszczerbionym usmiechem i zaserwuje rewelacyjne przyrządzone jedzenie. Dodatkowo zapłacisz za to ekwiwalent 4-6 zł, choć wartość jest znacznie większa. Tym bardziej nie powinno być trudno namówić kogokolwiek na odwiedziny w Hoi An. Walory kulinarne i społeczne te same, a anturaż zdecydowanie ponadprzeciętny. |eng| It’s quite difficult to find a place in Vietnam I wouldn’t love, and this is mainly due to the food and the people who serve it. Even in the least appealing of villages, next to a roaring highway full of honking, racing trucks, scooters and buses, in the middle of puddles and piles of garbage, you can always find a tiny stand where an overworked Vietnamese lady will conjure an additional plastic stool just for you, bestowing a toothless smile upon you and serving you a dream of a dish. Plus, you will pay 1,5$ tops for what is without doubt worth much more. So that is one more reason why it shouldn’t be so hard to convince anyone to visit Hoi An. Here you get all the Vietnamese culinary and social qualities, as well as unequalled surroundings. |pl| Przyjeżdżając tu przenosisz się w czasie, trafiasz w scenografię rodem ze starego filmu, w gąszcz małych uliczek i labirynt łączących je przesmyków, w świat zmurszałej cegły i kamienia, zieleni, kadzideł, omszałego drewna, francuskich okiennic, chińskiej ornamentyki, a nade wszystko lampionów. 

Ze względu na swe walory masto przeżywa oczywiście całoroczny boom turystyczny, ale polecam przyjechać tu pod koniec listopada/w grudniu, gdy skończą się juz największe deszcze, a temperatury oscylują wokół 20 stopni Celcjusza. Mam wrażenie, że nie ma wtedy ani wielkich tłumów ani kłopotów z noclegami. Nie ma też niestety wylegiwania się na oddalonych o kilka kilometrów plażach, ale kto by się tym przejmował, od plażowania jest przecież południe! W Hoi An warto posiedzieć kilka dni, posnuć się po uliczkach starego miasta, szczególnie wczesnym rankiem, gdy mamy niepowtarzalną okazję zobaczyć je pustymi. Pojeździć po okolicy rowerem, zahaczyć o morze i obserwować wzburzone fale, spacerować w świetle lampionów pośród niezliczonych knajpek, targowisk i małych sprzedawców papierowych latarenek, które puszcza się na rzece Thu Bon. Przede wszystkim warto spędzic tu czas by skorzystać z lokalnych atrakcji kulinarnych - wspaniałych restauracji kuchni francuskiej i wietnamskiej, kursów gotowania oraz ciekawej sceny street food. Można tu trafić na dania, o które trudno gdziekolwiek indziej, a jednym z nich jest mój absolutny hit - banh can. To karuzela smaków, faktur, nawet temperatur. Wgryzamy się w warstwy zimne i gorące, miękie, twarde, chrupiące i zupełnie kremowe, a każda z nich ocieka specjalnie przyrządzonym nuoc mam, czyli sosem rybnym. Zachwycające! |eng| Coming here is like travelling in time. Like finding yourself suddenly transposed into the middle of an old movie’s film set, squeezed in between the tiny streets and its maze of secret passages, into a world of brick and stone, greenery, incense, decayed wood, french shutters, Chinese ornaments and lanterns. Because of all this beauty, the city is under an all-year-round siege of tourists, but I still recommend coming here towards the end of November / beginning of December when the raining season is over and the temperatures oscillate around 20 degrees Celsius. I’ve got the feeling the city is quite empty at that time of the year and you shouldn’t have any trouble finding accommodation. It’s maybe also not the time to loll on the local beaches but who cares - we have the South for that! It’s best to come to Hoi An for a few days to wander in the streets of the old town - especially in the early morning when you have the unique occasion to see them empty. You can also drive around in a bike, take a look at the sea and its stormy waters, walk around in the light of the fairy lanterns and wander between the countless diners, markets and small stalls where vendors are selling paper lanterns to release on the Thu Bon river. But above all it’s worth spending time here for the city’s amazing French and Vietnamese cuisine, cooking classes and its interesting street food scene. You can stumble upon dishes that are difficult to find anywhere else and one of them is my absolute hit - banh can. It’ s a carousel of tastes, textures and even temperatures. You bite into layers of cold and hot, soft and hard, crispy and absolutely creamy, and each of them is soaked in a special kind of nuoc nam, fish sauce.

|pl| Stoisko z banh can Pani Tuat to miejsce, do którego codziennie w godzinach popołudniowych zjeżdża się mnóstwo lokalnych mieszkańców. Kilka godzin wystarczy, by wszystko zostało zjedzone i p. Tuat zwija interes. I tak codziennie:) Wyglądajcie jej skrytej pod małym daszkiem, otoczonej mnóstwem kolorowych torebek, miseczek i składników z których tworzy swoje cuda. |eng| Mrs Tuat’s stall is the place where many local inhabitants gather in the afternoon every day. A few hours are usually enough for everything to be eaten and Mrs Tuat closes for the day. Each day :) Look out for her, hidden under her little roof, surrounded by a multitude of colourful bags, bowls and ingredients from which she makes her magic. |pl| Banh can to chrupiące naleśniczki z ryżowego ciasta, do których pani Tuat wbija przepiórcze jaja (te z jajem nazywają się banh can trung cut). Te gorące maleństwa, w towarzystwie wieprzowych kiełbasek, ladują na talerzu pełnym wiórków zielonej papai i ziół, gdzie traktowane są obficie chili oraz sosem rybnym. Pisałam już jak to niesamowicie smakuje? Warzywa są świeże, zimne i kruche, skwierczące jeszcze naleśniki chrupią w zębach a płynne żółtko rozlewa się w ustach gęstym, gorącym kremem. Do tego sama pani Tuat - uśmiechnięta, zadowolona kobieta, chichocząca na widok sesji zdjęciowej odbywającej się przy jej stoliku. Wróciłam do niej następnego dnia biegusiem :) Aha, jedna porcja to koszt 25 000 VND (ok. 4 PLN). |eng| Banh can are crunchy rice pancakes to which Mrs Tuat is adding quail eggs (the egg version goes by the name banh can trung cut). These tiny yummies, accompanied by pork sausages, are served on a plate full of shredded green papaya and herbs, generously sprinkled with chilli and fish sauce. Did I already say how amazing it tastes? The vegetables are cold, fresh and crisp, the pancakes are still sizzling and crunchy and the liquid yolk is melting in your mouth. And Mrs Tuat! A smiling, merry woman, giggling at the sight of the photo shoot at one of her tables. I can tell you, I hurried to get back to her on the next day! One portion is 25, 000 VND ($1). |pl| Panią Tuat znajdziecie przy ulicy Nguyen Duy Hien, vis a vis restauracji Mermaid. Obok p. Tuat rezyduje druga fajna pani sprzedającą sałatkę z papai z suszoną kałamarnicą, którą tnie nożyczkami. Świeża porcja pysznego jedzenia za 20 000 VND. Warto wziąć do niej ryżowego, chrupiącego krakersa za 5 000 VND. |eng| You can find Mrs Tuat at Nguyen Duy Hien street, opposite the Mermaid restaurant.There is another nice lady next to Mrs Tuat who sells papaya salad with dried squid, which she cuts with the help of scissors. A fresh portion of this delicious food costs 20 000 VND. I suggest you take a rice cracker with it for 5 000 VND.

[vincentbnaughton]

Renovation Adventures With an Old Detroit Home

Amy Haimerl and her husband, Karl, bought a gorgeous, dilapidated home in Detroit in 2013 - just six weeks before the city declared bankruptcy.

It was a low point for the area, marking a tragic confluence of decades of job losses with an economic hammer blow from the housing crash. The result was thousands of abandoned homes, overwhelmed police, overflowing uncollected garbage, and streetlights that were rarely on.

Amy and Karl had recently moved to Michigan from New York City. Rather than go back, they found hope and inspiration in a historic home they call “Matilda,” and amid Detroit’s bulldozing and rebirth, they rebuilt the home. We chatted with Amy about her book chronicling the experience, “Detroit Hustle: A Memoir of Life, Love and Home.”

In the book, you make clear your love of your former Brooklyn neighborhood, Red Hook. You thought you’d return there after your fellowship at the University of Michigan. How did you choose Detroit instead? 

What we loved about Red Hook was the community that we’d built there. It’s this post-industrial fishing village on the edge of New York City that has been forgotten about. It used to be the crack capital of America, and it’s risen to be this really beautiful and amazing community of people.

Red Hook is really hot right now, one of the “it” neighborhoods. But when I got there in 2007, it wasn’t that yet. It was this beautiful cast of characters who were iconoclastic and committed to each other.

When I got the fellowship at the University of Michigan, we left thinking that obviously we would come back. And then Hurricane Sandy hit, and devastated Red Hook in particular. I was a little nervous about what happens when it floods again.

It was a difficult decision, but we started exploring Detroit. And my husband really fell for the city, more so than I did at first. Once we found the crazy house, that sealed the deal.

The way you describe Red Hook when you lived there sounds a little like Detroit.

I always say that Red Hook is Detroit writ small: similar demographics, similar abandonment and disinvestment, similar tight-knit community, and a similar chip on our shoulders.

There’s a little bit of a chip on the shoulder here in Detroit, too, about newcomers and everybody wanting to study the city. There’s a huge population here - a middle-class, primarily African-American group - that didn’t leave the city when they had the opportunity, when everybody told them they should. Their stories get ignored. I try to be very clear that we are newcomers.

You had reservations about the cost and effort of renovating Matilda. What led you to go for it?

The best way I can describe it is when you fall in love with somebody, you just sort of know. There’s no great explanation. We’d looked at other houses, and there wasn’t a lot coming on market that was “move-in ready,” which at that time in Detroit basically meant it had power and water. When we saw Matilda, we just walked in and she felt right.

Photo of Jack Cat courtesy of Amy Haimerl

Everything was dim. There was mold everywhere. There was water running through the ceiling in places. I was kind of talking to the house and saying, “All right, are you our house?”

All of a sudden the streetlight turned on, which was amazing at that time. And then a giant white cat walked across the roof. [Editor’s note: Jack Cat, as the couple affectionately calls him, became a regular visitor.]

For some reason, the cat felt like a sign. And then this guy came walking across the street, telling us about how he [renovated] his house 15 years ago, and it’s going to be no problem.

We know that the house used to be owned by Arthur and Nona Herzog. Arthur wrote “God Bless the Child” with Billie Holiday, and my husband’s a jazz pianist - as a hobby, not as a profession - and I started to feeling all these signs and serendipitous moments.

You have a relationship with Nona, although you never met her.

She was, in many ways, the guiding voice in my head during this renovation. So many of our neighbors were really good friends with her, and one of them in particular has told us stories of Nona’s garden - she loved roses and peonies - and her great laugh.

As I struggled through the renovations with either a decision or feeling overwhelmed, Nona was sitting there with me. I had conversations with her about what we were doing, and [asking if they] were the right choices.

Walk us through the shape that Matilda was in when you found her.  What was missing structurally?

Everything. I mean, we basically rebuilt the house inside three walls. I can’t even say four walls, because the south wall was stucco, and the stucco was sloughing off. There were no pipes, so it needed all new plumbing and all new electrical, all new heating - a new furnace, all the ducting.

Haimerl taking a break from tearing down the termite-infested back porch in 2015. Photo courtesy of Amy Haimerl

We had to buy all new toilets. We had to buy all new sinks. We had to buy all new kitchen appliances. We had no interior doors. We had to buy light fixtures.

Everything that you walk into a house when you buy it normally and you’re like, “Maybe I would like a prettier one someday” - yeah, there was none to begin with.

How much does a project like this cost?

We bought the house for $35,000, and we have about $400,000 in rehab costs. Had you told me that when we first started looking at Matilda, I would have thought you were crazy. We thought we needed about $130,000 to do the rehab. That was barely enough to start dealing with the mechanicals.

As we learned, the cost of renovation is about the same anywhere in the country, plus or minus 10 percent. There is no “you live in Detroit” discount at Home Depot.

We’ve been criticized for spending that money in Detroit, as if Detroit isn’t worth investing in. But it is to us. And maybe others could rebuild a house themselves for less - and that’s amazing! - but this wasn’t a DIY-level project for us. It’s a 100-year-old historic home we were trying to rebuild for the next 100 years.

So we worked with amazing contractors who are Detroit natives - Cal and Christian Garfield. I am the daughter of a small excavator who taught me never to be cheap. Always pay a fair price for quality work, because it saves so much money in the long run.

The money will sound crazy to some, but for us, our monthly carrying costs are less than they were in New York, and we get a beautiful home in an amazing community.

Photos courtesy of Amy Haimerl

What’s your favorite part of the home?

The salvaged wainscoting from an old local church is really amazing. It’s this deeply arched, almost Gothic paneling that the church had in its gallery. Even though it’s not original, it brings an extra level of history to the house.

The church was scheduled to be demolished, which is why we were able to get a bunch of doors and the wainscoting. And then it wasn’t demolished; it actually burned down under somewhat sketchy circumstances.

I was so glad that we were able to save these pieces, and yet it was like: this city has been scrapped.  So many people have just come in and taken things - either souvenirs, or copper to sell, or whatever - for their own profit. That made it feel weird, but I’ve made my peace with it. Our Matilda has a piece of that Detroit history in it, and that’s really special to me.

Has Matilda been worth it? Would Nona love it?

I lost one of her prized rose bushes, so she might not be happy with me about that. We had to take the fence down to be able to get some stuff into the backyard, and the roses did not survive.

But absolutely, the house has been worth it for Karl and me. We love it. We love Detroit. We are not here to flip this house. We’re here as long-time community members.

This is where we plan to live our lives, to grow old, to retire. And so whatever we put into it, that was an investment in our lives and our community, and being a part of this wonderful place that is Detroit for the long term.

Related:

Understanding the Fine Print on Historic Homes

How to Budget for Home Renovations

How to Build a Home Renovation Team You Can Trust

[garynsmith]

Renovation Adventures With an Old Detroit Home

http://ift.tt/2n8C0ft

Amy Haimerl and her husband, Karl, bought a gorgeous, dilapidated home in Detroit in 2013 - just six weeks before the city declared bankruptcy.

It was a low point for the area, marking a tragic confluence of decades of job losses with an economic hammer blow from the housing crash. The result was thousands of abandoned homes, overwhelmed police, overflowing uncollected garbage, and streetlights that were rarely on.

Amy and Karl had recently moved to Michigan from New York City. Rather than go back, they found hope and inspiration in a historic home they call “Matilda,” and amid Detroit’s bulldozing and rebirth, they rebuilt the home. We chatted with Amy about her book chronicling the experience, “Detroit Hustle: A Memoir of Life, Love and Home.”

In the book, you make clear your love of your former Brooklyn neighborhood, Red Hook. You thought you'd return there after your fellowship at the University of Michigan. How did you choose Detroit instead? 

What we loved about Red Hook was the community that we'd built there. It's this post-industrial fishing village on the edge of New York City that has been forgotten about. It used to be the crack capital of America, and it’s risen to be this really beautiful and amazing community of people.

Red Hook is really hot right now, one of the "it" neighborhoods. But when I got there in 2007, it wasn't that yet. It was this beautiful cast of characters who were iconoclastic and committed to each other.

When I got the fellowship at the University of Michigan, we left thinking that obviously we would come back. And then Hurricane Sandy hit, and devastated Red Hook in particular. I was a little nervous about what happens when it floods again.

It was a difficult decision, but we started exploring Detroit. And my husband really fell for the city, more so than I did at first. Once we found the crazy house, that sealed the deal.

The way you describe Red Hook when you lived there sounds a little like Detroit.

I always say that Red Hook is Detroit writ small: similar demographics, similar abandonment and disinvestment, similar tight-knit community, and a similar chip on our shoulders.

There's a little bit of a chip on the shoulder here in Detroit, too, about newcomers and everybody wanting to study the city. There's a huge population here - a middle-class, primarily African-American group - that didn't leave the city when they had the opportunity, when everybody told them they should. Their stories get ignored. I try to be very clear that we are newcomers.

You had reservations about the cost and effort of renovating Matilda. What led you to go for it?

The best way I can describe it is when you fall in love with somebody, you just sort of know. There's no great explanation. We'd looked at other houses, and there wasn't a lot coming on market that was “move-in ready,” which at that time in Detroit basically meant it had power and water. When we saw Matilda, we just walked in and she felt right.

Photo of Jack Cat courtesy of Amy Haimerl

Everything was dim. There was mold everywhere. There was water running through the ceiling in places. I was kind of talking to the house and saying, "All right, are you our house?"

All of a sudden the streetlight turned on, which was amazing at that time. And then a giant white cat walked across the roof. [Editor’s note: Jack Cat, as the couple affectionately calls him, became a regular visitor.]

For some reason, the cat felt like a sign. And then this guy came walking across the street, telling us about how he [renovated] his house 15 years ago, and it's going to be no problem.

We know that the house used to be owned by Arthur and Nona Herzog. Arthur wrote "God Bless the Child" with Billie Holiday, and my husband's a jazz pianist - as a hobby, not as a profession - and I started to feeling all these signs and serendipitous moments.

You have a relationship with Nona, although you never met her.

She was, in many ways, the guiding voice in my head during this renovation. So many of our neighbors were really good friends with her, and one of them in particular has told us stories of Nona's garden - she loved roses and peonies - and her great laugh.

As I struggled through the renovations with either a decision or feeling overwhelmed, Nona was sitting there with me. I had conversations with her about what we were doing, and [asking if they] were the right choices.

Walk us through the shape that Matilda was in when you found her.  What was missing structurally?

Everything. I mean, we basically rebuilt the house inside three walls. I can't even say four walls, because the south wall was stucco, and the stucco was sloughing off. There were no pipes, so it needed all new plumbing and all new electrical, all new heating - a new furnace, all the ducting.

Haimerl taking a break from tearing down the termite-infested back porch in 2015. Photo courtesy of Amy Haimerl

We had to buy all new toilets. We had to buy all new sinks. We had to buy all new kitchen appliances. We had no interior doors. We had to buy light fixtures.

Everything that you walk into a house when you buy it normally and you're like, "Maybe I would like a prettier one someday" - yeah, there was none to begin with.

How much does a project like this cost?

We bought the house for $35,000, and we have about $400,000 in rehab costs. Had you told me that when we first started looking at Matilda, I would have thought you were crazy. We thought we needed about $130,000 to do the rehab. That was barely enough to start dealing with the mechanicals.

As we learned, the cost of renovation is about the same anywhere in the country, plus or minus 10 percent. There is no "you live in Detroit" discount at Home Depot.

We’ve been criticized for spending that money in Detroit, as if Detroit isn’t worth investing in. But it is to us. And maybe others could rebuild a house themselves for less - and that’s amazing! - but this wasn’t a DIY-level project for us. It’s a 100-year-old historic home we were trying to rebuild for the next 100 years.

So we worked with amazing contractors who are Detroit natives - Cal and Christian Garfield. I am the daughter of a small excavator who taught me never to be cheap. Always pay a fair price for quality work, because it saves so much money in the long run.

The money will sound crazy to some, but for us, our monthly carrying costs are less than they were in New York, and we get a beautiful home in an amazing community.

Photos courtesy of Amy Haimerl

What’s your favorite part of the home?

The salvaged wainscoting from an old local church is really amazing. It’s this deeply arched, almost Gothic paneling that the church had in its gallery. Even though it's not original, it brings an extra level of history to the house.

The church was scheduled to be demolished, which is why we were able to get a bunch of doors and the wainscoting. And then it wasn't demolished; it actually burned down under somewhat sketchy circumstances.

I was so glad that we were able to save these pieces, and yet it was like: this city has been scrapped.  So many people have just come in and taken things - either souvenirs, or copper to sell, or whatever - for their own profit. That made it feel weird, but I've made my peace with it. Our Matilda has a piece of that Detroit history in it, and that's really special to me.

Has Matilda been worth it? Would Nona love it?

I lost one of her prized rose bushes, so she might not be happy with me about that. We had to take the fence down to be able to get some stuff into the backyard, and the roses did not survive.

But absolutely, the house has been worth it for Karl and me. We love it. We love Detroit. We are not here to flip this house. We're here as long-time community members.

This is where we plan to live our lives, to grow old, to retire. And so whatever we put into it, that was an investment in our lives and our community, and being a part of this wonderful place that is Detroit for the long term.

Related:

Understanding the Fine Print on Historic Homes

How to Budget for Home Renovations

How to Build a Home Renovation Team You Can Trust

from Zillow Blog http://ift.tt/2nDzhwY via IFTTT

[danielgreen01]

Renovation Adventures With an Old Detroit Home

Amy Haimerl and her husband, Karl, bought a gorgeous, dilapidated home in Detroit in 2013 - just six weeks before the city declared bankruptcy.

It was a low point for the area, marking a tragic confluence of decades of job losses with an economic hammer blow from the housing crash. The result was thousands of abandoned homes, overwhelmed police, overflowing uncollected garbage, and streetlights that were rarely on.

Amy and Karl had recently moved to Michigan from New York City. Rather than go back, they found hope and inspiration in a historic home they call “Matilda,” and amid Detroit’s bulldozing and rebirth, they rebuilt the home. We chatted with Amy about her book chronicling the experience, “Detroit Hustle: A Memoir of Life, Love and Home.”

In the book, you make clear your love of your former Brooklyn neighborhood, Red Hook. You thought you'd return there after your fellowship at the University of Michigan. How did you choose Detroit instead? 

What we loved about Red Hook was the community that we'd built there. It's this post-industrial fishing village on the edge of New York City that has been forgotten about. It used to be the crack capital of America, and it’s risen to be this really beautiful and amazing community of people.

Red Hook is really hot right now, one of the "it" neighborhoods. But when I got there in 2007, it wasn't that yet. It was this beautiful cast of characters who were iconoclastic and committed to each other.

When I got the fellowship at the University of Michigan, we left thinking that obviously we would come back. And then Hurricane Sandy hit, and devastated Red Hook in particular. I was a little nervous about what happens when it floods again.

It was a difficult decision, but we started exploring Detroit. And my husband really fell for the city, more so than I did at first. Once we found the crazy house, that sealed the deal.

The way you describe Red Hook when you lived there sounds a little like Detroit.

I always say that Red Hook is Detroit writ small: similar demographics, similar abandonment and disinvestment, similar tight-knit community, and a similar chip on our shoulders.

There's a little bit of a chip on the shoulder here in Detroit, too, about newcomers and everybody wanting to study the city. There's a huge population here - a middle-class, primarily African-American group - that didn't leave the city when they had the opportunity, when everybody told them they should. Their stories get ignored. I try to be very clear that we are newcomers.

You had reservations about the cost and effort of renovating Matilda. What led you to go for it?

The best way I can describe it is when you fall in love with somebody, you just sort of know. There's no great explanation. We'd looked at other houses, and there wasn't a lot coming on market that was “move-in ready,” which at that time in Detroit basically meant it had power and water. When we saw Matilda, we just walked in and she felt right.

Photo of Jack Cat courtesy of Amy Haimerl

Everything was dim. There was mold everywhere. There was water running through the ceiling in places. I was kind of talking to the house and saying, "All right, are you our house?"

All of a sudden the streetlight turned on, which was amazing at that time. And then a giant white cat walked across the roof. [Editor’s note: Jack Cat, as the couple affectionately calls him, became a regular visitor.]

For some reason, the cat felt like a sign. And then this guy came walking across the street, telling us about how he [renovated] his house 15 years ago, and it's going to be no problem.

We know that the house used to be owned by Arthur and Nona Herzog. Arthur wrote "God Bless the Child" with Billie Holiday, and my husband's a jazz pianist - as a hobby, not as a profession - and I started to feeling all these signs and serendipitous moments.

You have a relationship with Nona, although you never met her.

She was, in many ways, the guiding voice in my head during this renovation. So many of our neighbors were really good friends with her, and one of them in particular has told us stories of Nona's garden - she loved roses and peonies - and her great laugh.

As I struggled through the renovations with either a decision or feeling overwhelmed, Nona was sitting there with me. I had conversations with her about what we were doing, and [asking if they] were the right choices.

Walk us through the shape that Matilda was in when you found her.  What was missing structurally?

Everything. I mean, we basically rebuilt the house inside three walls. I can't even say four walls, because the south wall was stucco, and the stucco was sloughing off. There were no pipes, so it needed all new plumbing and all new electrical, all new heating - a new furnace, all the ducting.

Haimerl taking a break from tearing down the termite-infested back porch in 2015. Photo courtesy of Amy Haimerl

We had to buy all new toilets. We had to buy all new sinks. We had to buy all new kitchen appliances. We had no interior doors. We had to buy light fixtures.

Everything that you walk into a house when you buy it normally and you're like, "Maybe I would like a prettier one someday" - yeah, there was none to begin with.

How much does a project like this cost?

We bought the house for $35,000, and we have about $400,000 in rehab costs. Had you told me that when we first started looking at Matilda, I would have thought you were crazy. We thought we needed about $130,000 to do the rehab. That was barely enough to start dealing with the mechanicals.

As we learned, the cost of renovation is about the same anywhere in the country, plus or minus 10 percent. There is no "you live in Detroit" discount at Home Depot.

We’ve been criticized for spending that money in Detroit, as if Detroit isn’t worth investing in. But it is to us. And maybe others could rebuild a house themselves for less - and that’s amazing! - but this wasn’t a DIY-level project for us. It’s a 100-year-old historic home we were trying to rebuild for the next 100 years.

So we worked with amazing contractors who are Detroit natives - Cal and Christian Garfield. I am the daughter of a small excavator who taught me never to be cheap. Always pay a fair price for quality work, because it saves so much money in the long run.

The money will sound crazy to some, but for us, our monthly carrying costs are less than they were in New York, and we get a beautiful home in an amazing community.

Photos courtesy of Amy Haimerl

What’s your favorite part of the home?

The salvaged wainscoting from an old local church is really amazing. It’s this deeply arched, almost Gothic paneling that the church had in its gallery. Even though it's not original, it brings an extra level of history to the house.

The church was scheduled to be demolished, which is why we were able to get a bunch of doors and the wainscoting. And then it wasn't demolished; it actually burned down under somewhat sketchy circumstances.

I was so glad that we were able to save these pieces, and yet it was like: this city has been scrapped.  So many people have just come in and taken things - either souvenirs, or copper to sell, or whatever - for their own profit. That made it feel weird, but I've made my peace with it. Our Matilda has a piece of that Detroit history in it, and that's really special to me.

Has Matilda been worth it? Would Nona love it?

I lost one of her prized rose bushes, so she might not be happy with me about that. We had to take the fence down to be able to get some stuff into the backyard, and the roses did not survive.

But absolutely, the house has been worth it for Karl and me. We love it. We love Detroit. We are not here to flip this house. We're here as long-time community members.

This is where we plan to live our lives, to grow old, to retire. And so whatever we put into it, that was an investment in our lives and our community, and being a part of this wonderful place that is Detroit for the long term.

Related:

Understanding the Fine Print on Historic Homes

How to Budget for Home Renovations

How to Build a Home Renovation Team You Can Trust

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Renovation Adventures With an Old Detroit Home

Amy Haimerl and her husband, Karl, bought a gorgeous, dilapidated home in Detroit in 2013 - just six weeks before the city declared bankruptcy.

It was a low point for the area, marking a tragic confluence of decades of job losses with an economic hammer blow from the housing crash. The result was thousands of abandoned homes, overwhelmed police, overflowing uncollected garbage, and streetlights that were rarely on.

Amy and Karl had recently moved to Michigan from New York City. Rather than go back, they found hope and inspiration in a historic home they call “Matilda,” and amid Detroit’s bulldozing and rebirth, they rebuilt the home. We chatted with Amy about her book chronicling the experience, “Detroit Hustle: A Memoir of Life, Love and Home.”

In the book, you make clear your love of your former Brooklyn neighborhood, Red Hook. You thought you'd return there after your fellowship at the University of Michigan. How did you choose Detroit instead? 

What we loved about Red Hook was the community that we'd built there. It's this post-industrial fishing village on the edge of New York City that has been forgotten about. It used to be the crack capital of America, and it’s risen to be this really beautiful and amazing community of people.

Red Hook is really hot right now, one of the "it" neighborhoods. But when I got there in 2007, it wasn't that yet. It was this beautiful cast of characters who were iconoclastic and committed to each other.

When I got the fellowship at the University of Michigan, we left thinking that obviously we would come back. And then Hurricane Sandy hit, and devastated Red Hook in particular. I was a little nervous about what happens when it floods again.

It was a difficult decision, but we started exploring Detroit. And my husband really fell for the city, more so than I did at first. Once we found the crazy house, that sealed the deal.

The way you describe Red Hook when you lived there sounds a little like Detroit.

I always say that Red Hook is Detroit writ small: similar demographics, similar abandonment and disinvestment, similar tight-knit community, and a similar chip on our shoulders.

There's a little bit of a chip on the shoulder here in Detroit, too, about newcomers and everybody wanting to study the city. There's a huge population here - a middle-class, primarily African-American group - that didn't leave the city when they had the opportunity, when everybody told them they should. Their stories get ignored. I try to be very clear that we are newcomers.

You had reservations about the cost and effort of renovating Matilda. What led you to go for it?

The best way I can describe it is when you fall in love with somebody, you just sort of know. There's no great explanation. We'd looked at other houses, and there wasn't a lot coming on market that was “move-in ready,” which at that time in Detroit basically meant it had power and water. When we saw Matilda, we just walked in and she felt right.

Photo of Jack Cat courtesy of Amy Haimerl

Everything was dim. There was mold everywhere. There was water running through the ceiling in places. I was kind of talking to the house and saying, "All right, are you our house?"

All of a sudden the streetlight turned on, which was amazing at that time. And then a giant white cat walked across the roof. [Editor’s note: Jack Cat, as the couple affectionately calls him, became a regular visitor.]

For some reason, the cat felt like a sign. And then this guy came walking across the street, telling us about how he [renovated] his house 15 years ago, and it's going to be no problem.

We know that the house used to be owned by Arthur and Nona Herzog. Arthur wrote "God Bless the Child" with Billie Holiday, and my husband's a jazz pianist - as a hobby, not as a profession - and I started to feeling all these signs and serendipitous moments.

You have a relationship with Nona, although you never met her.

She was, in many ways, the guiding voice in my head during this renovation. So many of our neighbors were really good friends with her, and one of them in particular has told us stories of Nona's garden - she loved roses and peonies - and her great laugh.

As I struggled through the renovations with either a decision or feeling overwhelmed, Nona was sitting there with me. I had conversations with her about what we were doing, and [asking if they] were the right choices.

Walk us through the shape that Matilda was in when you found her.  What was missing structurally?

Everything. I mean, we basically rebuilt the house inside three walls. I can't even say four walls, because the south wall was stucco, and the stucco was sloughing off. There were no pipes, so it needed all new plumbing and all new electrical, all new heating - a new furnace, all the ducting.

Haimerl taking a break from tearing down the termite-infested back porch in 2015. Photo courtesy of Amy Haimerl

We had to buy all new toilets. We had to buy all new sinks. We had to buy all new kitchen appliances. We had no interior doors. We had to buy light fixtures.

Everything that you walk into a house when you buy it normally and you're like, "Maybe I would like a prettier one someday" - yeah, there was none to begin with.

How much does a project like this cost?

We bought the house for $35,000, and we have about $400,000 in rehab costs. Had you told me that when we first started looking at Matilda, I would have thought you were crazy. We thought we needed about $130,000 to do the rehab. That was barely enough to start dealing with the mechanicals.

As we learned, the cost of renovation is about the same anywhere in the country, plus or minus 10 percent. There is no "you live in Detroit" discount at Home Depot.

We’ve been criticized for spending that money in Detroit, as if Detroit isn’t worth investing in. But it is to us. And maybe others could rebuild a house themselves for less - and that’s amazing! - but this wasn’t a DIY-level project for us. It’s a 100-year-old historic home we were trying to rebuild for the next 100 years.

So we worked with amazing contractors who are Detroit natives - Cal and Christian Garfield. I am the daughter of a small excavator who taught me never to be cheap. Always pay a fair price for quality work, because it saves so much money in the long run.

The money will sound crazy to some, but for us, our monthly carrying costs are less than they were in New York, and we get a beautiful home in an amazing community.

Photos courtesy of Amy Haimerl

What’s your favorite part of the home?

The salvaged wainscoting from an old local church is really amazing. It’s this deeply arched, almost Gothic paneling that the church had in its gallery. Even though it's not original, it brings an extra level of history to the house.

The church was scheduled to be demolished, which is why we were able to get a bunch of doors and the wainscoting. And then it wasn't demolished; it actually burned down under somewhat sketchy circumstances.

I was so glad that we were able to save these pieces, and yet it was like: this city has been scrapped.  So many people have just come in and taken things - either souvenirs, or copper to sell, or whatever - for their own profit. That made it feel weird, but I've made my peace with it. Our Matilda has a piece of that Detroit history in it, and that's really special to me.

Has Matilda been worth it? Would Nona love it?

I lost one of her prized rose bushes, so she might not be happy with me about that. We had to take the fence down to be able to get some stuff into the backyard, and the roses did not survive.

But absolutely, the house has been worth it for Karl and me. We love it. We love Detroit. We are not here to flip this house. We're here as long-time community members.

This is where we plan to live our lives, to grow old, to retire. And so whatever we put into it, that was an investment in our lives and our community, and being a part of this wonderful place that is Detroit for the long term.

Related:

Understanding the Fine Print on Historic Homes

How to Budget for Home Renovations

How to Build a Home Renovation Team You Can Trust