#also its 1am and we know those hours are way shorter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

veridium · 4 years

Text

miss independent

COLLEGE AU DISASTER COMING IN HOT

I want to say that this chapter, even though relatively short and to the point, is a very important one in terms of content for me. Based on a lot of my experiences being a young queer person in activist/”social justice” spaces, and the ways in which people use those spaces for their own needs. This is all a eloquent way of me saying: gay drama, it sucks, and it’s real. The community isn’t a utopia!

So, uh, enjoy!

fic masterpost // last chapter

-- Theia The Gayuh: Hey

Read 8:04am

-- Theia The Gayuh: Can we talk, please?

Read 8:13am.

-- Theia The Gayuh: You turned on your read receipts just for this, didn’t you.

Message Delivered.

She sends the messages Tuesday morning, and Liv can’t decide whether she’s angry or thankful she’s left her alone for 48 entire hours. Usually they can’t stand to be upset with each other more than the length of one L Word episode. Oh how the turn tables.

Eventually, though, she does respond. After a whole day of classes, texting Cassandra about everything but the fact that Theia reached out, and seeing Ellinor in passing, walking hand-in-hand with Cullen. She’s glad they worked things out for now -- now being a day-by-day, sometimes even hour-by-hour kind of thing. They survived the first party saga of their respective relationships, and now she sympathizes with Cassandra’s desire for peace and discipline more than ever. Besides, it’s getting to be crunch time in the semester. They should be calming down.

Olivia: Meet me at Johnny’s at 6, then. I can’t stay long. I have to study.

Read 3:17pm.

-- Theia The Gayuh: Sounds good. Thank you.

If she scrolls up just a bit, she can find their last messages from before the war. Memes from gay instagram accounts, short threats of disownment and other heartfelt jokes. It’s not right being on the outs with her, but what can she do? She’s still angry, and that isn’t saying much. Olivia can be angry for years if she deems it necessary.

She touches base with Ellinor, the other half of her brain, before she shows her face at the pizza place they agreed to meet.

-- Ellinor: I don’t know, dude. Maybe she wants to apologize?

Olivia: I hope so because if it’s just more bullshit I’m going to be so mad.

-- Ellinor: Cullen says to hit her with the crushed peppers if she fucks up.

Olivia: 👀

-- Ellinor: Okay I said it

-- Ellinor: He says hope it works out. I said that was boring.

Olivia: Be nice!!

Before she locks her phone she looks back on the last messages Cassandra and her sent to each other from hours prior. They’re perfectly nice and sweet, not paragraph length like they used to be. The more they get to know each other the shorter the answers become and the less stressful it is to come up with what to say. She puts the car in park and turns the key, making one last wish that she won’t have to lose a friendship just so she can have a relationship.

Johnny’s is one of the most college-town holes in the wall there is. But, to be fair, their pizza is also the best in town -- or so Theia and Olivia swear every time they show up for the last by-the-slice orders at 1am. Now, in the socially acceptable hour of dinner for regular people, she’s reliving all the hazy memories when she walks in and sees Theia sitting back at a corner table along the wall, scrolling her own phone.

Ugh. Fuck.

She looks up and sees Liv standing like a scarecrow, and doesn’t smile. She just sits up and takes an anxious breath by the looks of it. Olivia tucks her head and walks over before it becomes a standoff in an old Western film.

“Hey.” Theia says it first as Olivia drops her keys and wallet on the table. She does a subtle head nod in reply and takes her seat. That is more than enough.

“Are you...how are you?”

The sound of her voice is enraging still. Its sobriety and measured diplomacy, too. Where was it when she needed it? When Cassandra would have benefited from it? Oh, that’s right, drowned in a gallon of rum and bud lite.

“I’m good. You?”

“Good.”

She holds back a glare. She shouldn’t be good. She should be far from good. But when she looks up, Theia’s face says as much.

“I...I thought it would be better if--”

“H-how is Josephine?’

Theia gives her a confused look, hands sliding back and into her lap. “Uh...she’s...good. You haven’t been in touch with her?”

“Not since Saturday. I was planning on texting her.”

“Oh. Uh, cool. Yeah, you should do that.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward pause, part one, hits. Olivia’s eyes wander around the place, to the chalkboard signs with the beer tap menu, to the awkward high school-aged boy behind the counter re-folding takeout menus. Man, he still does not look a day over 15 with that haircut.

“Liv.” Theia says it in a ‘let’s cut the crap’ kind of way, but she’s not ready to follow along. But she also can’t divert attention anymore so she keeps her mouth shut.

“Liv, come on.”

“Hm?” she offers, and locks eyes with her. It’s then she notices the coca-cola cup of water and ice she has in her hand, straw by her mouth.

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“Uh…” Olivia can’t hold it back anymore. This baiting and subtle nod to the issue is aggravating her bullshit meter. She smiles with impatience and shakes her head. “Uh, it’s not that I’m mad at you, Theia. It’s that you fucked up.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because you seem to be chilling with your ice water.”

“Ah.” Theia sighs, and sets down her cup. “So that’s how this is gonna go.”

So this is how this is gonna go? Ugh, she was right. It’s gonna be more bullshit. Not just the apology and explanation she deserves. No offer to apologize to Cassandra directly. No accountability. Why the fuck did she make this plan? Theia is never going to--

“Look, I know what I did was immature. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? What about Cass? You went full Mean Girls on her. If anyone should be here getting an apology, it’s her.”

“As long as I get one for the hours I spent talking to you and texting you about her when she was pulling her bullshit.”

“That’s not how that works!”

“Well it should!”

“Uh, hey.” From above both their steaming heads, the boy from the counter interrupted, standing like a beanpole with two menus in his hand. He eyed them both with a look not unlike the way the little girl in the movie Matilda looks at Ms. Trunchbull, and sets them down between them. Olivia blinks away her hostility as best she can, but Theia just rolls her eyes and looks away. Classy.

“Thanks,” Liv says, but the boy is already halfway back to the counter. Talk about a way of saying ‘please hurry up with things so you can leave sooner.’

Theia sighs with dread and takes her menu, thumb pressing a corner bend as she stares at the lines of words. Olivia keeps hers flat on the table and retracts her hands, peering over it like a child. Maybe she should pull out a magnifying glass and also search for a will to live.

“I just don’t get what you see in her.” Suddenly, Theia sets down the menu and folds her arms. She’s really ready to be completely obliterated.

Olivia perks up fast, outrage in her posture as her mouth goes open wide. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Theia?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. I don’t get it. I didn’t get it in the beginning, I didn’t get it at the party, and I still don’t.”

“If you don’t get it, fine. You aren’t in the relationship.”

“It’s not that, Liv. You have always been a certain kind of person, and you have always been outspoken about what it means to be queer. You deserve someone who is as passionate about it as you, who won’t...like, I don’t know. Gentrify it.”

“Gentrify it?!”

The boy came back again. This time with a notepad and pen. Behind him an older man was peeking out from the window into the kitchen looking as if he had bribed him to return.

“I, uh…” Theia said, still mad as she nearly tossed him the menu. “I’ll have the Hawaiian personal, please.”

“Chill,” he replied, sliding the menu under his arm. Then he looked at Liv, one eye twitching a bit narrower than the other. What, was something on her face?

“I’ll have a Margarita. Medium, please...” she looks at Theia when she bends her brow. “I’m bringing back some for Ellinor. I owe her for stealing five of her easy-macs.”

She hands the menu back because the guy looks like he’s being held hostage, releasing him back into the wild. After that she folds her arms and rests them on the table, leaning onto the table.

“Oh. I thought…”

“You thought I was bringing some for Cassandra? What, that she’s waiting outside with sunglasses on and a sniper in case things go bad?”

Theia bites the corner of her mouth and looks away. Her fingers twist together as she takes in the wall painting hanging next to them of the old river bridge just past downtown. College town shops always decorated with images you could see by virtue of a 5 minute walk in any direction. As if it heightened the experience or the pride in a bridge of all things.

“You give her too little credit.”

Theia snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, asshole?” Olivia tilted her head, countering her feistiness. “You know nothing about her.”

“No one does! So she’s gay now. That mean she’s going to stop hanging out with those sexist, stalking assholes in her Bible study? The ones who campaigned for Prop 13 last year?”

“I never saw her out there with them!”

“It doesn’t matter, Liv! She still wasn’t against them!”

“You don’t know that!”

Theia scooted back in her chair but didn’t get up. She rolled her eyes so hard her head went with them, and she locked them on one of the tv’s on the opposite side of the room. Sports, or something, playing on the screen. Olivia stayed where she was, in the exact shape she was, though her flight or fight instinct trampled her willingness to stick around. This was the complete opposite of how she always wanted it to go, of how she always thought it would be. Her life had become a Dr. Phil special where the envious best friend was sat across from the happy but plain looking married couple, begging the best friend to stop egging their cars.

“Is she out to her family?”

Olivia scoffed. “Theia, you’re gatekeeping again.”

“I’m not, I just asked a question,” she corrected, looking back down at her.

“I...I dunno.”

“Really?”

“Probably not. She just came to the conclusion herself. I don’t think she’s had the time or reason to. Not until...well, I don’t know.” She grabbed the straw wrapper leftover from Theia’s drink and began playing with it.

“Pfft. Gotcha.”

“That doesn’t matter, though. Why should it? So she can be the “correct” form of real?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know what I’m worried about. The same reason you were concerned when Josie and I got together. The thing you saw fit to bring up that night, in public, in front of everyone. Remember how not-whispery your tipsy whispering is?”

Shit. She hadn’t thought about it like that. At the time, it was an empowering speech-and-run that she made to expel her rage. The kind of tell-off everyone dreams of giving when faced with someone’s traitorous actions. She hadn’t taken into account the volume, or the environment -- had Josephine heard her? Had other people? Oh God, that might have been completely humiliating…

Theia watched her, and shook her head. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, she does know what you said.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that was a wonderful fight to have at 3am. Thanks for that.”

“Theia, I--”

“Whatever, Liv. You know what I mean when I ask if she’s out. It’s different when we’re kids, when we’re poor...it’s not like that with you. You’re both adults, and she’s rich. What’s stopping her from doing what all those Beauty Queens do making out with our friends in the dive bars then running off to Mommy and Daddy’s house in the Dales?”

“She’s not rich, her fa--”

“Liv.”

Ugh, fuck. She rested back on her chair and ripped the wrapper in two. She caught her on something she would say was bullshit in any other context, and she hated her for it. Wealth wasn’t an individualistic thing, it wasn’t some easily-excluded condition. That was well-evidenced by her continued compliance with her Mom’s antics if it meant getting her tuition bills paid and health insurance secured.

“You’re still being disrespectful and showing your privilege. It doesn’t matter the age of when someone comes out, it’s still difficult and uncomfortable. The fact that she is doing it, and doing it with someone in her life, is brave. And she and her family aren’t white. Neither are Josie’s. We won’t ever know what it’s like to do what they do. Money or no money.” If only you knew what she’s gone through, what she struggles with. Shit, if only *I* knew.

“Ugh, you sound like those women’s studies harpies with all the buzz words.”

“I sound like a compassionate human being. You would do well to try it sometime.”

Theia slurped her water, visibly calmer than she was at the start. Perhaps a little too calm. Her heart was in the right place, if only she would admit she was just feeling protective and possessive of her best friend. Instead she was dunking and deep-frying her concern in narrow-minded visibility politics. Olivia flicked the ball of remaining wrapper onto the table, giving up on it as a plaything. She was looking at the person who helped her come to terms with her sexuality, the person who listened to her cry in the middle of the night after she’d have another fight with her Mom about wanting to cut her hair or have a pride flag in her room when she’d come home in the summer. They had gone through so much, and she wants to hold onto it with the hope that if she can change, Theia can, too.

“Well. I guess I’ll be wishing for her to prove me wrong, then,” Theia allows, shrugging her broad lesbian shoulders with her broad lesbian skepticism. This isn’t the last of it, and she isn’t convinced in the slightest. By the looks of it -- and by the knowledge Olivia has in 2 years of friendship -- she’s choosing not to pick the battle anymore. Relieving, but only to an extent.

“Thanks, I guess. I still think you owe her an apology.”

“Fat chance.”

“Theia.” Olivia notices pizzas being brought out of the kitchen. Perfect fucking timing evaded them this far, why would it start now? “Apologize to her or I won’t let this go.”

“Oh come on.”

“I mean it--” she interrupts herself as the guy approached with Theia’s order and two pizza stands. She’ll have to wait until he’d do the second trip for her own meal. It felt like an hour, their stiff staring down of one another while Chad-Kevin-Trevor-whoever did his thing. Poor dude, he was annoying but he would get a good tip. No one wants to be at the mercy of gay drama. When at last everything was served, and the guy got out with his life, she pulled napkins from the dispenser and continued.

“I’m not going to apologize to someone who proves me right the next day. I’m just not going to have her put a rift between us.”

“You have no faith in her and you don’t even know her!” Her put a rift between us? Her?

“I have seen this happen too many times in this town to blink it away, Liv. I’m not going to watch it happen to you and pretend it’s some big surprise.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Theia chews away, dropping her slice down on the plate. Her greasy hands ate up the napkin she used to clean them off, finger by finger. “I can’t stop you from dating her. But you can’t stop me from having my gut feelings.”

Oh, fuck all.

After a tense pause, Olivia grabbed the infamous crushed peppers and generously sprinkled them onto her own meal. “You know, maybe it’s for the better. If she were here she’d say she wouldn’t want your apology unless it was sincere. Which, obviously it isn’t, because you are an asshole.”

“Psh. Fine, say it’s that. All I know is I don’t say sorry unless actions prove it warranted. And I trust you enough not to do that thing everyone does when they get together.”

You mean U-Haul and crawl up each other’s assholes never to see anyone else again. Cool, that’ll be fun to attempt, considering I intend to keep you two as far away from each other as humanly possible. For my sake, and hers. Olivia took a large bite into her first steaming slice and, as always, immediately squirmed.

“H-h-haw--”

“God dammit, Liv,” Theia grinned and slid her water to her side, which Olivia took and gulped from the rim. Fuck the straw.

“Gah,” she gasps, and slammed it down. “I’m such a dumbass.”

She met her glance, mouth lined with sauce and balsamic. Theia’s playful expression is her weakness. She chuckles for the first time all afternoon, pressing a crinkled up napkin to her mouth as she did so. Theia follows suit, leaning back and running her fingers through her down-and-tousled hair. She mutters a curse under her breath. It’s like opening a can of soda and letting the carbonation finally release.

“Ugh, Liv, you’re always going to be my girl.” She reaches for the parmesean shaker and began dousing her pizza in it. A Hawaiian pizza with parmesean sounds disgusting, but the way she ogles it with hungry eyes, you’d swear it was the most delicious thing to ever be invented.

Her statement though. Her statement makes Olivia’s heart creak. She wants so badly to nod and smile, fully believing in it as she always had. But the truth is -- and she hated herself for it -- the entire time she sits there she’s missing Cassandra. Missing her, the way she talks, the way she laughs when she had a mouth full of food.

She watches Theia take her first cooled-down and thus safe bite, and for that split second she lets her inner frown weigh on her face.

The pizza isn’t for Ellinor, she confesses in her thoughts, one which she wishes to say out loud. But everything said not to. Everything said it wasn’t safe. And for that, she is at a loss.

“Well, fuck her.”

Ellinor, having stolen a slice of the leftovers, thus proving Olivia’s fib somewhat obsolete, is adamant. Cross-legged in old basketball shorts and a tank with flannel on (peak pajamas aesthetic). All the while Olivia paces with a textbook in hand, trying to work out the anxious energy while also getting work done. A futile endeavor, a tale as old as time.

“Ellinor, please.”

“Nah, fuck her. She knows what she did was fucked up!” said with a mouthful of margarita goodness. She gulps it down and then burps like a truck driver twice her age. Olivia has to giggle.

“Ahh, fuck, this hits the spot. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, fu--”

“I get it, okay!” Olivia shut the book and tossed it onto her desk. Huffing with indignation. What bright idea did she have thinking she could just be friends with so many opinionated and crass women? Oho, feminism, blah blah blah, women’s empowerment, blah blah, empowered women empower women, blah blah BLAH.

“Well. Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to proceed as planned. Theia doesn’t feed me or pay my bills. Her opinion is purely arbitrary.”

“Uh huh, so that’s why you’re creating rubber burn marks on your carpet.”

“What?!” Olivia squeaked, looking back behind her bare feet. Oh, good one, Ellinor.

“Liv.”

“Oh stop it! I’m doing my best. Theia is one of my first and truest friends. She’s the only one I’ve known as long as you.”

Ellinor slouched and scowled with bitchy apathy -- a talent she knew best. Sliding herself off her friend’s bed, she put her hands on her hips and stood toe-to-toe with her.

“Yeah, Liv, and only one of us isn’t being a dick about something that’s making you happy.”

Olivia frowns and slides her hands into her hoodie pocket. “It’s...it’s not the same. It’s different in the community versus out. I can’t--”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ellinor…”

Ellinor dragged her feet as she headed towards the door. “Last I checked, Liv, there isn’t a Hayley Kiyoko song about being gay meaning you get to step over boundaries like they’re hopscotch squares!”

“Ell--”

“Nah-ah!” she yelled, sliding in through the door’s narrow opening. Her finger went up in the air as she lingered. “I can cite sources, too, Ruth Gay-der Ginsburg!”

“...I hate you.”

From the hall, the same sarcastic voice echoed: “LOVE YOU TOO!”

She’s going to be saying that for the rest of the week. Fantastic. Olivia resigned herself and fell back on her bed, hands across her stomach as she wished to be anywhere else but there. She had always swore she would tape stars and planets to her ceiling but never got around to it. Truth was she wasn’t tall enough to reach, and Ellinor has no advantage in that department, either. But...she could ask Cassandra. She could do that now. She could do a lot of things.

But first, she can do one right thing, for someone who didn’t deserve the heat she got. She unplugged her phone and held it above her head.

Olivia: Hey, Josie. I talked to Theia about the party. I’m sorry I made an ass of myself at your expense.

Read at 8:55pm

-- Josie: It was not the funnest thing. I appreciate your apology, though. Theia was being ridiculous, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.

Olivia: It’s not your job to apologize for her choices.

-- Josie: I know! Is Cassandra okay?

Olivia: Yeah. A lot has happened. I’m feeling really overwhelmed.

-- Josie: Oh, dear. You want to get coffee tomorrow?

Olivia: 😭

-- Josie: Lol, okay. I’ll meet you in the Hub.

#fic update #day & age #friendship fic #college AU #college!ellinor #college!olivia #modern thedas au #hot mess express

18 notes · View notes

mccblogger-blog · 7 years

Text

MCC April 2017 Trip to Mallorca by Thomas Few

MCC’s intrepid band of rascals departed for the fair isle of Mallorca (or Majorca if you’re English and want to spell it incorrectly) earlier than I thought humanly possible on a Friday morning at the beginning of April. The bus began its rounds at roughly 1am, meaning not one of us had an ounce of sleep that night. The party contained myself (Thomas Few), Chris and the world famous Jack Lee, David Nicholas, Blaine Phelps, Adrian Sullivan, Gareth Jehu, Nigel Jones, Mark Andrews, Anthony Swiss Jam-Boner Big Ring Cowdry and Phil Pryor. A more quality band of men has never been seen.

We arrived at Bristol airport in good spirits considering the lack of sleep and proceeded to the newly refurbished restaurant in the departure lounge, named after the famous engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel. With a name like that he was always going to do well in life. The true men’s men of the group, myself, Adrian and Gareth opted for a pint of the finest Guinness, whereas most of the other lightweights stuck to non-alcoholic fare. An embarrassing way to start the tour I thought to myself. On my recommendation a few of the boys decided to order the Eggs Benedict. A fine choice indeed and no doubt they will thank for me the recommendation one day, as I feel even before we left the UK, I had improved their lives for the better.

We arrived at our hotel in Puerto Pollensa at around 11am and after a quick and easy check-in, we headed to Palms Bar for lunch before our first ride. In my opinion it was madness to even contemplate riding after a full 24 hours plus with no sleep, but not wanting to appear weak, I went along with it. The bikes were delivered bang on time and we were greeted by what looked like half decent Eddie Merckx bikes. Over time we came to realise they weren’t great. Rumours are flying that the bikes cost a fraction of what we paid for them and Chris embezzled the rest to pay for Jack’s Rapha addiction, but I’m saying nothing.

We headed out to Formentor lighthouse for our first ride, which was a total of 38 miles and plenty of climbing. The views were nothing short of spectacular and after just this one ride I can see why people come back here to ride year on year.

With our first ride out of the way it was time for our first meal at Pollensa Park’s all you can eat buffet. The ride incidentally was a walk in the park for what was to come! The buffet, which featured nearly everything you can think of, was ideal after a long hard day. In my opinion the food may have been too good and too plentiful, as while I may have cycled over 350 miles in Mallorca, I went home weighing 5lbs more than I did at the start of the week! While I did my fair share of eating, it was noted by all that Gareth Jehu knows his way around a plate of food. Underneath that lean physique hides the soul of a fat man. Following a monster feeding session, we headed to Palms for a few pints. Some drank more than others over the course of the week and while I may not set the world alight on my bike, I certainly feel my drinking skillset made up for this.

I shared a room with the one and only Mark Andrews. I had heard many negative stories about Mark’s exploits as a roommate, mostly focussing on his powerful snoring. While I cannot dispel these allegations, as Mark does indeed snore like a mule, it was not as bad as I was led to believe and I did manage to get to sleep. Our room was kept nice and tidy and Mark showed me how to hang my bib shorts over the balcony to dry. Key attributes of a strong tourist. Would I share with Mark again? Yes I would.��

Our first ‘proper’ ride of the tour started with a big climb up somewhere called ‘Lluc’, which everyone pronounced as ‘Look’. I came to quickly learn this type of long, gradual climb, with switchback upon switchback is typical of Mallorca. After a descent of the ‘Big Pig’ we eventually made it to lunch at the port of Soller, which was yet another stunning setting with impressive views. Seemingly at the top of every climb and around every corner in Mallorca you’re greeted with incredible views and breath-taking scenery. I’ve said it before, but what a place! After lunch we headed back to Pollensa via some places I can’t remember the names of clocked off with an 88 mile ride to our names. Stirling work. The evening proceeded exactly the same as the previous evening. If you’re interested just read the above bit again.

Day 3 saw us take on the legendary climb of Sa Calobra. Obviously, in Mallorca to get to a climb, you also have to do many other climbs first, the biggest of which was up the Selva gorge. Chris had previously told me this was his favourite climb on the island and I’m inclined to agree. Not too steep a gradient and plenty of shade. Perfect for someone as terrified of the sun as me. I attacked the climb with reckless abandon, finishing ahead of accomplished warriors such as Blaine, Phil and Mark. I was thinking, ‘is this the turning point? Is this my time to shine?’….turns out it wasn’t. After Selva the group split, with Adrian, Mark, Nigel and new recruit Tony heading back down ‘Look’ with the rest of us heading to Sa Calobra.

The road down into Sa Calobra has to be seen to be believed. Just over 6 miles of snaking hairpin bends. Lovely descent, not so lovely climb. One road in, one road out. Following the descent into Calobra we enjoyed lunch at a restaurant overlooking the beach, eating not too much, but not too little. These decisions are critical. Following my big performance up Selva I was excited about the prospect of taking on Sa Calobra. Alas, it did not go well. The first group of myself, Blaine, Dai and Phil set off first, with the racing snakes giving us a bit of a head start. The first two miles went well. Blaine and myself side by side, chatting away, but then it hit me and my world came crashing down around me. Blaine continued on up the road and carried on talking, oblivious to the fact I was now about 50 yards behind and going backwards. He flew up Sa Calobra like a man possessed, all his training paying off big time. The KM King has earned his crown. First Jack and Chris flew past, then Gareth and then Phil. I was in a dark place. 3 miles down, 3 miles to go and I can barely turn the pedals. I am broken. The bonk is real. Next to pass me is Dai. Luckily for me, Dai took pity on me and slowed to my crawling pace and talked me up the rest of the climb. I strongly believe if it wasn’t for Dai I’d still be somewhere on the road halfway up Calobra. What a guy. About an hour later I rolled into the café at the top of the climb a broken shell of a man. I can’t remember what was said to me or what was happening. I don’t know how I managed to get back to Pollensa, but somehow it happened. Another 80 miles in the bag and a lesson in the art of bonking. Later that night we headed in to town to meet Tony for a few beers. Tony is a mate of Blaine’s and is a cycling mad businessman from Basingstoke. He rode a Pinarello. Unfortunately for old Tony it didn’t make him any quicker up those climbs!

Day 4 and some of us decided to take this as a bit of a rest day. The group headed out as usual at 9.30 ish and 25 miles later found ourselves in the beautiful town of Petra. After coffee and cake in the square, myself, Dai, Phil, Nigel and Tony decided to turn around and head back to base. Just 50 miles today thank you. Phil and myself did our best taking turns on the front to get us back in time for a delightful spot of lunch in Tolo’s on the seafront at Pollensa, the place with Bradley Wiggins’ TdF winning bike up on the wall. After lunch Adrian and myself decided to relax by the pool with a beer. One thing led to another and by the time the rest of the group got back I found myself six pints in and apparently slurring. I don’t believe a word of it though and enjoyed a few more at Palms later that night, while presenting an EC Cycles jersey to the owner. While I took all the glory and was centre stage on the Facebook post, in actuality it was Swiss’ jersey. Sorry mate!

Day 5 and we had a big one lined up. The day started with a husband and wife from Cardiff Ajax complementing us on our fabulous new club kit. They were dazzled by the fiery coral (raging pink) and were green with envy at the concept of our ‘home and away’ kit variations. I’ll try to keep this bit far shorter than the ride itself, which was 105 miles or so. It was long. It was hilly. It was hard. We didn’t have lunch until about 4pm. We only just got back before dark. Orient, Deia and Valdemossa were impressive. Swiss swanned off to do Big Pig and Sa Calobra on his own with no food. All in the big ring. Easy. What a day. Myself, Gareth, Blaine, Adrian and Nigel decided to leave the hotel to find a restaurant for a steak. We settled on ‘Hotel Romantico’ which was an ideal location for a bottle of fine red wine. Clearly we were the sophisticated raconteurs of the group.

Day 6. Mark awoke complaining that his backside was sore after yesterday’s ride. I took this with a pinch of salt as most people would. However when Mark showed me what he was talking about I took it all back. Red raw is an understatement. It’s safe to say I’ve never seen anything like it. My attempts at treatment failed, but luckily Dai was on hand with some magic cream to save the day. How Mark got on a bike that morning I will never know, but he only lasted so long before him, Nigel and Adrian headed back early to put their feet up.

The rest of us ploughed on to the monastery atop Sant Salvador. We flew through the lanes chain-gang style at what felt like 40mph and we made it to the base of the climb in no time. I was feeling good so attacked the climb with vigour. I will never learn. After lunch we headed back toward Muro for a coffee. The pace was yet again relentless and Dai was heard to shout from his position at the back of the group ‘Slow down, it’s hard work at the back’. The logic being that the wind goes over the top of the group and then drops at the back, hitting Dai full tilt. I am inclined to agree as I was struggling as well. After a coffee at Muro we headed back to Pollensa. I mentioned earlier that I never learn…the bonk was real and yet again I was broken. This time it was Swiss’ turn to nurse me back onto the group. Eventually we got back to Palms some 95 miles later. A few select Trojans decided to head back out to do some more miles to hit 100. I was not one of them. A few pints at Palms and that was our last night over and done with.

Day 7. Some rode, some didn’t. I certainly didn’t. Our flight didn’t land in Bristol until 1am and I had a wedding to attend the following morning so I didn’t think I needed to add any more fatigue to the equation. Instead a day of shopping, coffee drinking, massages and sitting by the pool was in order. Why we didn’t do all that sooner I have no idea. We departed the hotel later that evening, leaving Gareth behind to spend a few days more in Mallorca with his wife. Incidentally, after 7 hard days on the bike without any damage, Gareth managed to sustain a back injury while relaxing by the pool for a few days with the missus...feel free to insert your own innuendo based pun at this point.

All in all, the trip to Mallorca was a resounding success. No injuries, barring Mark’s backside and no arguments. Miraculous considering Anthony slept on the balcony as Phil’s snoring was so bad! We got in a very solid block of training, had a great time with plenty of laughs and looked like pros in our new kit. What more do you want? Personally, I can’t wait until next year. My plan was to follow Gareth’s lead and stay on for a few days with Alice, but then again I don’t want to come home with a bad back, so maybe it’ll be a boys only trip for me again next year! Thanks for a great week lads and a big thanks to Chris for organising. Bring on Mallorca 2018.

1 note · View note

blue-bread-on-toast-blog · 4 years

Text

My first kiss

One of my biggest regrets so far is that I have never loved who I am. I’ve never even liked who I am.

You point to something on my body and there is something that I would change. I know that everyone is like that as well, (and I blame social media for this) but I literally crave to look like the models and the social media influencers. I wish that I had a hairless, toned, tanned body. I wish that I could consider the way that my body looked was perfect and desirable. That’s what I think I most want. Is for my body to be desirable.

I am 20 years old and I had my first kiss two weeks ago when I was drunk in bed with some who I used to consider a best friend. My friend and I were as close as we could be when we were thirteen and fourteen. Both being bullied for being short and since I had a high pitched voice, they always would call me gay and ask if we were dating. I never even thought of him as anything other than a friend until we were sixteen. I moved high-school at fifteen and our friendship was slowly deteriorating. We went through a four month period when we didn’t hang out or talk until school started back up again when we were sixteen. He ended up dating one of my best friends from the new high school I went to, but that’s another story. But I ended up developing a crush on him once he grew taller than me. He had always been shorter so I always saw him as a friend, but when I started realising my sexuality, that was when he grew taller than me and that’s when my attraction started. Then when we were in our final year of high school we talked maybe four or five times that year and after that, there was no contact for three years. I had lost my feelings towards him and just saw him as a past high school friend. Until two weeks ago.

I went on a trip to the North Island of New Zealand (I live in the South Island now, but grew up in the North) with my best friend from my high school (the one he dated) and this other girl that we met at a festival and instantly clicked with. It was just supposed to be us three, but then my high school friend suggested that we should get him to come along as well. I thought, well why not? I hadn’t talked to him for three years and it would be good to catch up. It was a good catch up, it was almost as if we were still good friends again. That night we all decided to get drunk off our faces. The two friends I had gone with and I had been drinking all day and he arrived around 5pm. He started drinking not too soon after he arrived. Fast forward to around 10pm, my two friends decided that they were tired and they were wanting to go to sleep, so it was going to be just him and I. I was still wanting to party and drink so I said that I would stop drinking at 1am (13 hours of drinking is a not a good idea folks). He had made no advances towards me throughout the day at all. When it hit 1am I said that I was gonna hit the hay and I said that I would sleep on the couch and he could sleep in the bed. He said “What? You don’t want to share a bed with me?” and I said, “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed.” Once the lights were out I can’t remember how or who initiated but I was suddenly being pulled towards him to cuddle with him. He ended up lifting up my chin and (me being slightly naive and also drunk) thought that he was just readjusting my head so that it was more comfortable. He then lifted my chin a second time and quickly kissed me on the lips. I was quite drunk that I couldn’t actually process what was happening, so I just pretended that I was asleep and didn’t move away or initiate more. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the lights went out so I didn’t know if it was convincing or not. Turns out it wasn’t because he did it for a third time but this time he kissed me for longer. And from there my drunk brain let things happen, but we didn’t get far because he didn’t have any lube or a condom (and I hadn’t cleaned myself out) so i said no to having sex. I’m also a virgin, so the lube and condom were necessary.

So that’s the story of my first kiss and the reason why I told it was because the more I think about it, the more I regret it happening, and the more I realise that none of this would’ve happened if I was sober. I hate my body. A lot. There are multiple times where a thought passes through my brain of “I wish I could restart and get a better body”. Obviously that is impossible and I can’t change the body that I was born with. I should learn to love myself but I can’t. I’m 20 years old and no guys had ever shown interest in dating me, and I don’t count the guys from dating apps. I’ve never had a guy say to me in person that he was attracted to me or even have a guy say that he wanted to get to know me better. But part of me knows that I can never date someone until I learn to love myself for who I am otherwise it’s not going to be a fun relationship if they have to constantly reassure me that they are actually into me and aren’t doing it as some sick joke, or that they aren’t cheating on me. Part of it is because I have never dated anyone, and the fact that no one has shown interest in me, and that I have a lot of insecurities about my body and the way I look. I wouldn’t say that I have a bad body, but to me there is something wrong with every part of my body. Something that I wish that I could change. I always wear baggy clothes because it helps to hide the pockets of fat that I have on my body. I always seen these attractive and fit guys that don’t even work out and they have abs. Like why couldn’t I have some of that! I do have a naturally skinny body which is why I’m able to hide it quite easily, but I’m nowhere near the way that they look. And since I’m not attracted to myself, I consider myself unattractive. It’s a problem that I want to get over. I want to be able to love myself and I think: To be able to love myself, I need to have someone love me to show me that I am loved, but I can’t get someone to love me unless I have learned to love myself. So, my brain is stuck in this loop that I can’t get out of. I want to work out, but since I don’t have anyone to impress or improve for, my brain just says “what’s the point of doing it?”. The point of me doing it is to be doing it for myself, not for someone else. Even after all this word spillage, I don’t know what to do. I have no motivation to make myself better, but I have all the want in the world to wish that did have the motivation. I just can’t find it.

The two girls who I went on the North Island trip with both said to me the next day that they thought he was trying to get with them. Literally the next morning after what happened between him and I had happened and because they both said it to me, part of my thought that maybe the only reason why he tried to have sex with me was because I was just there to satisfy his needs. if it had been either of the other two in that bed with him, he would’ve done the same thing. And that’s what fucked up a part of my brain. I didn’t know what to think, and I couldn’t talk to him about it because he wasn’t talking to me about it. The morning after, I was too scared to talk about anything that had happened the night before. Half of me wanted to pretend that I was so drunk that I couldn’t remember what happened, and the other half of me wanted to talk to him about it. Ask him if the reason why he did it was because he had feelings for me and wanted to go somewhere further than friendship or because I was just in the same bed as him, he knew I was gay, and thought that he could get himself off using me. I think I didn’t want to talk to him about it because I didn’t want to hear the answer. If it was either of those I would’ve had too much to think about and I would’ve had regrets. If he had feelings for me, I’d start thinking about why I hadn’t tried to initiate something earlier on in our lives, and we wouldn’t be able to date or anything because I don’t think that I could do long distance relationship as my first relationship. And if he just did it because I happened to be in the same bed as him, I think that would’ve just crushed my self-esteem. That to him I was just someone that he could use to get himself off and then leave me in the dust, never to be talked about again.

I’m glad that I never asked him and I’m glad that I never told anyone about what happened. To everyone I know, I’m still the boy who hasn’t been kissed or been in a relationship. But to me, I’m the boy who had his first kiss while drunk and refused sex because I was drunk and we weren’t prepared. But I still can’t help but think that people know and that my friends would pester me as to why I stopped him and that I should’ve just gone all the way because I’m getting too old to still be a virgin. It’s not my fault that for my whole life I have been extremely insecure. I don’t even know what caused me to be so insecure. I can barely remember anything that happens unless its got big significance to me. I can hardly remember what I had for dinner the night before. I can barely remember what happened throughout high school, and I can’t remember what happened during Primary and Intermediate. I think that this is enough ranting for now. It feels better to be able to get this out even though I have no idea who will actually end up seeing this and even who made it all the way through this. If you made it all the way through this, I thank you sincerely for reading and spending your time listening to what I have to say.

#journal entry #journal #diary entry #diary #rant #spilled words #spilled thoughts #first time #first kiss #insecurities #insecure #insecurity #regrets #regret #thought process #thought stream

0 notes

kharoleamysblog-blog · 6 years

Text

MY FIRST SOLO TRIP

The Journey so far...

The long awaited trip finally came!

I had only 3 hours of sleep. Punishment for sleeping late I thought! My bus was scheduled to set off at 6:30am so you can imagine the time I had to wake up. After not so much deliberations made on which transport to opt for, I finally decided to use ABC Transport. Read a couple of good reviews about the bus, and the one which informed my decision to use this transport was that it was an 'aeroplane on land.' Unfortunately, it was one of their old buses and so the air conditioner wasn't functioning properly. But me that I don't like to feel cold I was happy while people complained. At least it was airy. Aside the air conditioner not functioning properly, the bus also had a water closet which I thought was really cool but was meant for peeing only. If you wanted to take a dump you had to alert the bus attendant. (yes bus attendant) Having bus attendants on board is one of the reasons I believe people call it an aeroplane on land. They also served us with a pack of rice with chicken and a bottle of water. I must say I was impressed. There were so many empty seats but fortunately and unfortunately the seat next to mine was taken by a man who should be in his 60s.

I've stayed in Grand Popo, which is just about 20 minutes from the border. It is a small village in Republic of Benin so atleast I had a fair idea what crossing borders would be like. (that had been my only fear) Okay back to where I was talking about the man in his 60s. Most of the time I like my space; to be alone and lost in my thoughts but for that day I had to make a friend and I found one in this 60 something year old man.

We didn't talk much. We just exchanged pleasantries with smiles and then had some one or two convos when it mattered. He helped me recline my seat so I could be comfortable and then picked up my tablet when it fell on the floor. I had so much going on on my lap that I couldn't even pick it up myself. There was my hand bag which was so full (a laptop, a phone, 2 bottles of water, a bottle of Milo drink, 2 sandwiches, a power bank, a journal, pens, camera and the list goes on and on. In another plastic bag there was a pair of shoes I was going to wear when I arrived in Cotonou.

All in all it pays to be friendly. Just saying hi or asking someone where they are headed goes a long way to making your solo trip not so lonely after all.

Blocked my ears with headphones almost the entire journey. Took them off when I saw the bus attendant stand in front to talk. He told us he was going to update us on how the journey was going to be. Honestly I was so impressed. I'd never seen anything like that happen in a bus. Indeed it was an 'aeroplane on land'.

Last year in April, my friend (Mary) and I attended a conference in Benin for 5 days. We didn't know so much about buses. We made someone suggest a bus and they told us about Chisco transport so we went with that. Infact when we got back I'm sure we made a promise never to go by road. But here I am going by road again! Chisco was the worst experience ever. No one spoke English in the bus. (not to say that's the case everytime) Not even the driver or perhaps he pretended he didn't. I had to tell him where we would get off using the little French I knew. Aside this, there was no form of communication at least to newbies traveling by road for the first time or even going to Benin for the first time. My friend and I had to be alert the whole time. It was work! I couldn't sleep properly and worst of all the bus was scheduled to take off at about 11pm but took off at about 1am. It was really a terrible experience, more so it being our first time going to Republic of Benin and by road.

We set off at 8:16 in the morning. Our journey was committed into the hands of the Almighty God and a little message was shared by a preacher who I believe is Nigerian. People who hadn't given their lives to Christ were also admonished to do so.

For my friends who thought I'd be on road for 2-3 days, this is how the journey is from Accra. The bus goes through to Tema to Ada then to Volta Region through to Togo and then Benin. It's this simple! It takes about 4-5 hours to get to Togo and then about 2 hours to get to Benin. The entire journey is about 6-7 hours. But due to traffic and delays at borders the journey usually gets longer. This is even shorter than going from Accra to Tamale. So the next time someone tells you they’re going to Benin, do not panic. It’s a harmless journey my friends.

When we got to the Aflao border, (the border that divides Ghana and Togo) we remained seated in the bus while our passports were taken from us and sent to the immigration office for stamps to be put in them. This took about 20-30 minutes. We got to somewhere in Lome and the bus stopped to pick up other passengers going to Nigeria from Togo. This took close to an hour as tickets had to be checked and bags packed in. This was also an opportunity for people to shop. A lot of vendors entered the bus to sell their wares ranging from African prints to slippers to lip balms to perfumes to bags. I was tempted to do a little shopping considering that they were all at affordable prices. Knowing what a spendthrift and 'shopaholic' I am I tried very hard not to else by the time I arrived at my destination I would have finished up all my too much money.

A bus attendant announced that all vendors get off the bus. One woman, (Nigerian) could tell from her accent was happy by this action taken because she was worried someone would steal something in the process of selling to passengers. Me on the other hand I was a bit sad because I was enjoying the 'window' shopping. But all the same I got to save my money and flee from temptation.

The last time I saw Togo it was quite dark so I wasn't able to see its beauty. Togo is a very nice tiny country. I was shocked and marvelled throughout the journey. I was able to capture a few places through the bus windows and it's a place I'd definitely love to stay someday.

We finally got to the hillacondji border which is the border that separates Togo from Benin. Here, we had to get off to cross the border by foot. Trust me this was the moment I dreaded the most. The last time I did this with my friend, we were miserably lost. As I made mention earlier, going with Chisco transport was a terrible experience. No communication whatsoever. You should see the terror on our faces when we thought our bus had left us after we came out of the immigration office. And then we also had to pay so much money at each border. Refusing to pay meant you'd be there till God knows when.

This time, the bus attendant told us exactly what to do and where to go.

ABC transport handled all the processes so though we crossed by foot the immigration officers let us pass without paying a dime. Usually those with virgin passports (people traveling to Benin for the first time) pay a fee and those who have even traveled to Benin before pay lesser. Probably ABC transport officials handled all of that. Those who didn't have their yellow fever cards were already told before hand in the bus that they would pay 5gh and this I felt was understandable. We didn't waste time at the border at all.

What was supposed to be only a 6-7 hour journey became a 13 hour journey. Our bus had a problem with I don't know what. All I saw was the driver got down and operated under the bus. People started hopping off for fresh air and I joined. This took several hours till we were good to continue the journey.

The beginning of Benin from the Hillacondji border was just vegetation, and small villages which reminded me of my hometown. (Ada) For about 2 hours that's all I kept seeing. Now I began to wonder if this was all Benin had to offer. As I stated earlier, I stayed not so far from the border so there was not much to see during my previous visit.

And then finally there were buildings, overheads, busy streets, people, cars, motorbikes etc... For passengers getting off in Cotonou, the bus was to make a stop at the ABC terminal which was at the stadium (Stade de L'amitie) and then continue to Nigeria which was the last stop.

For a small country like Benin, I didn't think my drop off point was so far away from the border. At a point I felt the urge to alert the bus attendant and confirm if the driver knew he was to make a stop in Cotonou because it seemed most of the passengers on board were all going to Nigeria. I began to feel uneasy when I couldn't see the bus attendant in sight. When I remembered the words of my mother I got scared more and more. Earlier at home, she told me not to fall asleep so not to end up in Nigeria. Obviously she also didn't know the drivers knew they had to make stops. Earlier I found this hilarious but it was not the case this time around.

My sitting mate moved to sit somewhere else. I could tell he noticed I had so many things on my lap, because anytime he got up to use the washroom and he got back he saw I always put my bag on his seat. Now I wished he hadn't moved so I could ask him if the drivers knew they were to make a stop in Benin. When I still couldn't see the bus attendant I started consoling myself with the fact that at least I'd be able to see Nigeria. But on second thought, I remembered all the terrible things people said about the Seme border (the border between Benin and Nigeria) and then this time around I gathered courage to get up and look for the bus attendant. I was just about to do that when the bus attendant showed up and said we had gotten to Stade de L'amitie. Oh what joy!

To be continued...

#solotraveler #africa #TriptoBenin #roadtrip #GhanatoBenin #travel

0 notes