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someotherdog · 6 months

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@marshthing / dawn of the dead-esque for collie & the muse of your choice! / collie fled her home after her infected mother tried to kill her and crashed the car when driving to the hospital where her older sister works. your muse comes across the crash scene. we can go with them traveling to the mall from here or maybe to the local hospital, whatever floats your boat!

her head hurt. everything hurt. her cheek was pressed against the steering wheel, front engine smoking from the tree she had crashed into moments ago—her mama never let her learn how to drive a car, and with the present situation, could she really be blamed for it? she groaned painfully. the sound of the car door creaking sounded like a bomb going off.

there was a gun in her face!

collie fell out of car seat, landing on the soft grass beneath. her fingers clutched at the blades, heart beating faster than it ever had in her entire life. her mother's blood splattered her torso, still a bit wet, and the river of tears flowing freely down her face only slowed down and sped back up again, never fully stopping.

now there was a gun in her face. someone was holding that gun, standing above her as she was on her knees. the winesaps were lapsed catholics, but it felt like a cruel corruption of genuflection. collie whimpered. the person holding the gun seemed to be alive, not one of those things. not like her mother, now dead with a knitting needle shoved through her eye. her sister was missing. the world had ended before collie ever had a chance to live in it. she wiped some tears from underneath her eye with the back of her hand.

"please... please help me. i'm not one of them. please help."

#marshthing #* COLLIE WINESAP / narrative .#* STARTER / closed .#hope this works for ya ana!!!!#i proofread it once bc i am le tired lol so excuse any mistakes

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tox-talks · 1 year

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I wanted to do an art meme but the only one i had spoons for was a color palette one.

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 // [ home page ]• [ commissions ] • [ redbubble ] • [ ko-fi ] • [ toyhouse ]

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alexiabae · 8 months

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KIND³: lia wälti x fem!reader

Summary: the calmness installed on their chaotic lives.

Warnings: fluff.

Note: English is not my first language.

not my gif.

"I don't understand why I'm here." Aitana murmured, playing with her fingers. She was shivering a little, the condensation coming out from her mouth.

Y/N smirked, leaning her head on her shoulder. "It's a Champions League match. Plus, you agree to come." She hummed, watching both teams to warm up.

Aitana rolled her eyes and leaned her back on the seat, deciding to save her hands on her jacket's pockets. "If I knew that it would be so cold, I would say no." She said.

"It's London, I thought you should be used to the cold." Y/N point out.

"Never." Aitana groaned.

Y/N chuckles. "You look like an angry child." She teased.

"Shut up..." She lowly whined, making her friend laugh. "Finally they go in." She saw how both teams get inside to prepare themselves and next time they come back to the pitch is to play the match.

"You love Laia too much..." Y/N hummed, knowing how her friend hates the cold and her complaining about it was the proof.

Aitana blushed a little, moving away the hand from her friend when she pinched her cheek.

"Do you two miss us?" Ana came, drinks on her hands, tending them towards the pair, behind her is Frido.

"Only Frido." Y/N reply, sipping from the cup.

The mentioned chuckled and wrapped her left arm by her shoulders, side hugging her. However Ana raised an eyebrow and positioned herself next to Aitana, not without showing her middle finger to the girl.

"Very mature for your part..." Y/N tried to hold a laugh when Ana gazed at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Careful." The older woman warned, only to receive a hug from the girl, making her eyes roll. Y/N kiss repeatedly her cheek. "Ya, ya."

It's when Y/N's gazed collies with Lia's, the grip on Ana's chin loosened and changed for a side hug and leaned her head on her shoulder, heart eyes directed towards the Swiss brunette, a loving sigh escaping from her mouth. Ana hears her and watches her, seeing how a silly love face formed on her features, making her roll her eyes when directed her gaze towards the pitch, seeing the almost similar expression in her best friend's face.

"You two are apart and keep with those looks on your faces..." The blonde Swiss mumbled, but without showing it, she is happy for both of them, especially Lia.

Y/N shrugged, with a dreamy sigh this time. "I know... Is it amazing?"

The blue eyed woman directed her gaze towards the other one, biting her bottom lip intensely. She watches how she keeps a conversation with Aitana, the smile always accompanies her.

"Hmm." Ana hummed, feeling how her ears felt a little warm, extending on both cheeks. Her gaze came back to the pitch before Frido could feel her gaze on her. "We should sit down." She proposed, sitting down.

The other three imitate her, Y/N changing her seat from before and sitting between Ana and Aitana.

•••

The grip on her collar tightened, bringing her face towards hers, smashing their lips together. Her back hit the wall and a satisfactory sound was heard, making the brunette smile on the kiss.

"I miss you too." She whispers, tightening her hold on her hips. A smirk playing on her lips, seeing how Y/N keeps her eyes closed.

Without opening her eyes, she searched for her lips. The hand on her neck pushes softly towards hers, Lia letting herself guide because can't hold the urge to kiss her back.

Their mouth meets in a fervent kiss. Their tongues keep a battle to see who would win, to stay like always in previous encounters, they both win, swollen lips and whispering nonsense.

Lia's hands loosened the grip on her hips and moved it to her thighs, lifting her. A muffled yelp slam on her lips, breaking the intense make out.

Y/N looked down and saw the smug look on her beautiful eyes looking up at her. "It's not funny."

"It is when every time I do it, you do the same." She teased, gaining a gentle smack on her arm.

The midfielder started to distribute kisses on her face, whispering an apology after depositing one, making Y/N let out a loving smile.

A loud bang on the door after being opened, make them startle and break the moment.

"THEY ARE HERE!" A thick accent sounded. They looked at the intruder and saw a moth of blonde hair before it disappeared briefly to approach next to them.

"Beth, why?" Lia mumbles, putting on the floor her girlfriend, her right arm wrapping instead on her waist. Soon, she was hugged by the loud girl, intensifying her scowl on her face.

"Because I love celebrating with ALL my teammates!" The blonde explained, clearly with the intention to annoy her friend. Her blue eyes meet Y/N and wink at her, making her chuckle.

Soon, many footsteps were heard and the empty room was filled by red and white colours. Confetti and champagne were directed towards them, startling Y/N a little.

"Guys! Be careful, please." Lia warned them gently, who noticed the reaction.

"Go and celebrate with them." Y/N whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek when the brunette looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm going to annoy Ana and Aitana." It made Lia giggle.

Lia held her hand until the last moment, before she disappeared from her view.

"Girl, you are screwed up." Beth murmured, smiling innocently when Lia gazes at her.

•••

"It's weird." Aitana murmured, laughing nervously. She moves herself on her spot, her leg bouncing.

Lia chuckled, agreeing with her. "I know..."

Without knowing, they both prayed for their partners to come back soon. Plus the other two blondes, they could keep up a nice conversation with more people, but when they are alone, the words disappear and approach the tense and awkward silence.

"You played really well." Aitana compliments her, trying to create a new atmosphere.

"Thanks... I play better when I need to impress my girlfriend." Lia joked, blushing a little for the choice of her words. For her luck, Aitana chuckled relaxing a little.

"You don't need that with her. She is already impressed by you." Aitana confesses, looking at her.

Her blush deepened, scratching her neck nervously by the confession. "Same here." She confessed too.

Aitana was glad to hear that. She has eyes and with a simple look, she knows Lia is saying the truth, but sometimes it is good to confirm it.

"There is a more reason why I disliked you..." Aitana lowly said, making Lia open her eyes surprised. "You see... Five years ago, Y/N was in a relationship, a long one." She started to explain. She didn't know if Lia was known of this, but she needed to explain the half truth reason. "And not, I do not have the same behaviour as her, in fact, I adore her. I thought that they made a good couple, in my mind there isn't room for the image I knew." Lia saw how after finishing that sentence, Aitana's eyes darkened, it got sad too. "She cheated Y/N numerous times. She played the perfect girlfriend when the reality was different. Bad words, screaming, silly discussion... Y/N always forgive her. Until I found out." She saw how Lia was shocked by this information. "If she touched her in a bad way, I would kill her." She confessed, very serious.

Lia bit her bottom lip, believing every word Aitana said. She has a reason. She was, is, scared her best friend to suffer again. God, Lia doesn't know this, but knowing it now, she wants to hit that girl to make Y/N suffer.

"You are a good person." Lia blurted out, squeezing her shoulder gently. It took the Catalan by surprise, it showed on her face. "I came to blame you for the hate. I would resent it too."

"Please, if for a casual you two don't work, don't play with her. You don't look like that... it's only a warning. I can't see her like that again." Aitana begged her, her posture changing to be more near her.

"I'll do it." Lia promised, closing the distance and giving a needed hug.

They like that for a while, sharing some good memories to pass time, slowly creating a warm bond.

A click took their attention, seeing a sheepish look on Y/N face. "Sorry, I needed a photo from my favourite people together."

Ana passed her and sat down next to Lia. "They made it on purpose. I'm so tired!" The Swiss complained, stretching her free feet on the floor.

Laia walked and sat down on Aitana's lap, kissing her cheek with a kind smile, whispering something that only could hear her.

Frido sat down on the free sofa, enjoying the new mood.

And Y/N walked slowly towards her girlfriend, imitating Laia's action. "I'm so happy..." she let her know, throwing herself to hug both of them, since they are still close.

Lia and Aitana look at each other between the hugs, a silence agreement sealing between them.

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #lia wälti imagine #lia wälti x reader #lia walti #lia wälti

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sensazioneultra · 2 months

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@lesbian-i-ching tagged me to post my favourite 10 albums, thank you ana but also lowkey fanculo bc this is impossible dkskdsncx (jk i love you) but yeah there would be a hundred or more to add but here are some (in no particular order):

origin of symmetry - muse

icymi - eden

anime salve - fabrizio de andrè

vietato morire - ermal meta

we're all alone in this together - dave

mellon collie and the infinite sadness - the smashing pumpkins

all of a sudden i miss everyone - explosions in the sky

blonde - frank ocean

skz2020 - stray kids

i tag (if you want to do it!) @gianniisantetokounmpo @montecrizto @carebearcody @chaoswillcalmusdown @mieldelsol @putergenius @heavenlyyshecomes @junghaesin @maddenrichard @boyyeahright !!!!

#tag games #nico.txt #i guess my logic was like let's put a bit of everything bc i do love a pretty wide variety of genres so #but i could not fit in any kendrick or de gregori or against me or my classic rock faves or sensazione ultra or traumazine or--#so yeah. ask me top 100 at least next time lol

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mikecuenca · 2 years

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Trash Heap Souvenir No. 7

Punk Rock & Horror Shows.

October 10, 2022

I call my mom to verify facts.

“The teacher had you write an essay about your parents and your home life and you typed up a whole newspaper,” she tells me then laughs.

“Wait, what?” I vaguely recall this. I mean, I don’t even remember where I park my car half the time.

“You were in second grade. It was supposed to be a blurb and you brought her a stack of pages!”

On that typewriter in my dad’s office I started making up stories. And I went above and beyond on creative school assignments. Math and history assignments? Horrible. Get me to pay attention in class and you’d receive a medal. But when I was given wiggle room I’d go to town.

“That’s what happened. You had a teacher and you showed her that her statistics were wrong. School officials noticed and that’s why you were taken out of high school.”

At fourteen or fifteen I was placed in a dual enrollment program at Santa Ana Middle College High School: you’d take college courses and also receive high school credit. And it happened at the best time. Because I took a film history class. And that changed my entire world. It really did.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Since the reason I had a social worker it’s ‘cause I had gotten arrested.

“You started wearing all black, and spiking your hair and dressing the way you did. Which was shocking. Neither of your brothers turned out that way and we didn’t know why you did. They sent over a social worker who told me and your dad that you’re a good kid. ‘He’s intelligent and has high grades. You just need to see what he has on the inside; not what he wears on the outside. You have to accept who he is.’ And because of what she told us we did. And I’m not calling you out now, you’ve made your decisions, but you received three scholarships, mi niño —three scholarships and you turned them all down because you didn’t want to go to school anymore. You said for what you wanted to do, you didn’t need it.”

Jesus Christ.

===

1996-1998.

To say I was peculiar is a nice way of putting it. Misguided. Upset. I was a Freshman in high school and nobody, not one soul knew I was dating a popular cheerleader a grade higher. Especially not the boys who picked on me; athletes Liliana hung out with. It was as cliché as it gets. They would gang up on me and mock me and spit on me in gym class. So I started carrying a huge knife in my backpack. Next time I get shoved around I’m gonna stab a motherfucker.

I got this ghoulish preoccupation with vampires. One kid in school, whose name totally escapes me, would go to the Barnes and Nobles in Costa Mesa and steal a shit ton of books and flip them at a huge discounted rate. In some way, similar to what I used to do with my bootleg music tapes. I had him nab me almost a dozen books on bloodsuckers.

“Secret destroyer, hold you up to the flames.”

My favorite band were The Smashing Pumpkins (MELLON COLLIE being the one CD my dad ever bought me, a double-disc set too). I spent many late afternoons lying on my bedroom floor, staring at my glow-in-the-dark-star covered ceiling, listening to that album as darkness enveloped the room. And soon their goth-pop masterpiece ADORE would be released. The song “Bullet with Butterfly Wings”, as popular and overplayed as it is, carries a title that perfectly describes exactly what that band is. How they feel. Which is how an eccentric, angsty yet hopeful teenager feels. And Pumpkins fans, actual Pumpkins fans, are very special people I’ve come to find out. Nirvana fans were angsty and rebellious, but their time had passed, and now this band was the most popular in the world. Sure, they too were angsty and rebellious, but they were also romantic and mystical and covered an array of styles, reflected in the hearts of their listeners.

SCREAM had been released and I watched it about six to eight times in theatres. I wanted to hear what people would say when the killer was revealed. This one guy during one of the showings goes, “Who is that in there?” I think about his frustration all the time. It made me chuckle at the moment. SCREAM lead me to pay close attention to HALLOWEEN and PSYCHO; Hitchcock becoming my favorite director. It was easy. He was a household name. I was fucking blown away by PSYCHO. The goddamned dialogue. The pacing. That music. And then one nite during a SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE commercial break I’m flipping channels and I stop on PBS and it’s showing this old black and white movie with an eerie, chilly score. I don’t know what it is but I am captivated. A brother is taunting his sister at a cemetery telling her that they, whoever they are, are coming for her. I couldn’t stop watching. And when the ending hit it fucking hit, let me tell you. I was in shock. Couldn’t believe it. But I fell in love with NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. I immediately brought it over to Alex Solis ‘cause I showed him everything.

“Dude, we gotta watch this!”

“Whoa, this is just like RESIDENT EVIL [the 1996 video game]! But better!!!”

My mom was a horror nut. I say was ‘cause now she hardly goes near them due to her health issues. She gets too involved with them. But that’s all she ever watched: Spanish soap operas and horror movies. My dad? Hated ‘em. So when he was off gambling on Sundays my mom would sit on her throne and marathon all the horror programs UPN would screen: THE PUPPET MASTERs, HELLRAISER, CUJO, the FRIDAY THE 13THs, this one flick whose ending haunted me forever and I recently learned was BURNT OFFERINGS, and so forth. But no vampire movies at nite. No way. They gave her nightmares and she’d always wake up checking her neck for fang marks. Nite or day, you couldn’t trouble me with any that stuff. At five years of age I’d hide under the coffee table when the Freddy’s coming for you song would play on the TV. I was such a ‘fraidy cat.

Until I got a taste of the real thing.

1994. There was a burglar, maybe serial rapist preying on our neighborhood. It was a Sunday. My dad was off who knows where and my mom was marathoning her horror shows. There’s a knock at the door. This is right when we had moved to Seventeenth Street. We didn’t have a peephole. After this we did. I look through the blinds covering the window to the left of the door. I see a white tee, blue jeans, kind of like a greaser/mechanic, and I immediately associate the person with Luis, my brother. He usually visits late Sunday afternoons after he gets out of the car shop.

I don’t know how she sensed it from the entertainment room on the other side of the house. Call it instinct. I go to unlock the door and my mom flies in like a bullet screaming, “No! NO! NO!”

The guy kicks the door open and my mom throws herself right at it as he rabidly swings his arm through the crack, trying to grab at her.

“Call the police!” she screams.

I panic. She’s shrieking. The guy is yelling angry nonsense.

“CALL THE POLICE!”

The rotary phone is literally next to me. I can’t think clearly so I run across the entire house, through the entertainment room, into my dad’s office and phone from there. I’m yelling at the cops about what’s going on. I run back to the living room, to the front door of the house and my mom is on the floor in tears. The door has been shut.

My mom, who is far from an athletic woman, found the strength in her to protect that entry. The guy gave up and ran away. Of course, it took the cops a good hour before they showed up. And by that point Luis had arrived. I told the cops I thought the guy was my brother. They give Luis a hard, suspicious look. I gave them one too. The following week a neighbor a street or two down wasn’t as lucky. I was too young to care to learn if the criminal was ever caught.

Enter: THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE.

You know when you never hear or know of something and then you come across it and now all of a sudden you’re noticing it everywhere? That’s what happened with CHAINSAW. I was eleven and I kept seeing the name TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE everywhere. So I rented it and watched it with my parents, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin (all who lived with us at the time), super late at night. It was the greatest, most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. It was beautiful. And I was scared for my life. The whole time I’m sitting there convinced it’s a true story. And I can’t believe this happened. Months later when we’d go on a cross-country road trip my heart raced as we drove through Texas at dusk.

The movie ends. I’m trembling, making my way to my sleeping quarters (I no longer had a bedroom). My dad stops me and goes, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“…whu--- huh--- what?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Sunday night.” I blink my eyes at him a few times. He concludes, “Take out the trash.”

The garbage men come by on Monday morning. I forgot.

Uhhhhh………..

It’s two AM. I’m dragging the garbage bins out. And as I’m making my way to the sidewalk from a distance I hear… bbrrrrrr… BRRRR… BRR! BRR! What sounds like a fucking chainsaw!!!! I am not kidding here. I fucking hurl the trash bin, all the garbage falls out, and bolt inside the house in terror!

My dad, “What in the hell…?”

Turns out it was our meth head neighbor down the block who was mowing his lawn in the middle of the night.

But TEXAS got me cinched. And I delved into horror.

So here I was, a freshman, the Smashing Pumpkins on my discman, meat clever in my backpack alongside a stack of Dracula books. And no friends.

The way Saddleback High worked is that the freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors all had different lunch hours. Hence, nobody knew I was dating Liliana. Which I was actually relived by because she was cute and I was a lot younger (adding that I was a year ahead in school) and a skinny-bone-Jones and a dweeb and no one would believe their eyes anyhow. But because of the school’s offbeat scheduling you just never crossed paths with anybody anymore. My nerdy MacArthur junior high friends all went to other schools and I never saw them again. And our schedules clashed so I rarely saw Solis outside of our Saturday hangs which were becoming less frequent.

But when we did hang Solis and I would goof off with our large assortment of action figures. We’d have them get into adventures and I’d tape the whole thing. Listen, this is as dorky as dorky gets. I spent many hours in my bedroom, yeah, playing with action figures until I was about eleven years old. But I’d make up stories and give the toys dialogue. With Solis now puppeteering I could actually record this.

And this is not long after I gathered the school kids who made that video homework assignment. If they could make a movie, I could make a movie. So I wrote some sort of script. My memory doesn’t serve me well so I have no idea what it was about. But I rehearsed them and started taping them with my camcorder. We got into a verbal fight, never spoke again, and I never finished the thing.

A year later is when I was dropped into Middle College High. I was supposed to be a high school sophomore but instead I was on a college campus! Chris Pierce and Jonathan “Deez” Saldovar were my best friends. I’d gone to grade school with them but we didn’t actually become friends until Santa Ana Middle College High. There was this punk rock kid named Max in one of our classes. And Max always wore a Circle Jerks shirt and Sex Pistols patches. I inquired about those bands and he gave me shit. Typical punk. Chris and Max became friends and in the blink of an eye Chris was an anarcho-punk.

I was either in a history or who knows what class. There I met Megan. “It’s pronounced Me-Gan,” she’d say. And Me-gan had a boyfriend, or someone, can’t remember, who was roommates with Travis Barker. And this was when he was still with The Aquabats. Just some random trivia. I see Me-Gan working on this cool poster. She’s drawing this punk with spiked hair (“They’re called liberty spikes.”) who’s protesting and there’s a bullet going through his head. I asked her what that is. She said it’s from an album by her favorite punk band. “Do you listen to punk?”

“Punk? What’s punk?” I asked her.

“Here,” she reached into her backpack and slammed a CD case on our shared school desk. “You can borrow it but bring it back. If you don’t I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you.” I put this scene into SCENES FROM OBLIVION, my abandoned first feature film.

I didn’t quite get the Subhumans. But I tried. I played THE DAY THE COUNTRY DIED over and over, reading along the lyrics. I gave Me-Gan back the CD and eventually nabbed Subhumans - EP/LP and Crass – CHRIST – THE ALBUM (next to BEST BEFORE, certainly the weirdest and most inaccessible Crass album) from a grimy (and nifty) Tower Records at the Anti-Mall. The rest is history.

By the time I was supposed to be a junior I dressed like a walking newspaper.

The first concert I’d ever been to was Green Day opening for Madness. With Chris and Deez. And then the first show I ever went to was also with Chris and Deez at The Showcase Theater in Corona; Narcoleptic Youth and Atomic Bombs on the bill. I always thought musicians were like Gods; you could never meet them in real life. They were ants on a stage and that’s as close as you got. And here they’re right in front of your face, playing loud, playing fast. After their set they’re selling their own band tees and patches at a booth in the venue. They were so approachable. This is what punk meant to me. These musicians were real people like you and I. That night I came home a tad late without calling in. My dad lost his shit and hurled me against the closet door. And our callous feud began.

I got into politics. It was 2000. Chris, Deez, and I were about to head off to the Warped Tour. I was gonna pass out all these flyers. The flyer had a drawing of Christopher Columbus on it and at the top in bold black letters it read “RAPIST”. I made about fifty to seventy copies but I also made a big mistake. I left the original flyer in my dad’s photocopy machine. And when he saw that shit, oh my God. He flipped his lid and accosted me, yelling that this is communist propaganda.

A year later when I was trying to get a band together, this girl Monica, a guitarist accomplice of mine, we were working on songs in my room. She had parked in our driveway and on her rear windshield she had a decal of Che Guevara. My dad saw that and— let’s just say Monica left exasperated and sobbing. No commie anything around my dad. Nothing, nothing near him that resembles the country he was forced to leave.

Our collective parents gave us so much shit. Deez’s parents were chill but Chris’s were conservative Christians. They’d scoff at our “anarchist leanings”. We were fledging and naïve and thought we could change the world. We couldn’t even change our band patches without leaving huge holes in our clothing. I was dressing now in all-black with sewn on patches everywhere and political logos, raiding record shops for anarcho or crust albums.

I picked up The Adicts’ SONGS OF PRAISE from Black Hole Records thinking I was in for some crusty stuff and then I was shocked to hear this dude that reminded me of Robert Smith belting out the catchiest punk singles I’d ever heard. Still one of my favorite bands. They all are. I’ve never abandoned anything I grew up listening to.

What I consider one of the greatest coming-of-age summer days of my life, one which I intended to loosely replicate in BOYS ABOUT TOWN and wasn’t able to, is when Deez, Chris, and I hit up Bionic and I bought two albums that forever shaped me: Rudimentary Peni’s DEATH CHURCH and The Adolescents’ blue album. That afternoon I met my future second girlfriend Amanda #1 aka Chris’ cousin. A couple rounds of truth or dare later and I was beguiled. With time, me being with Amanda would cause my friendship with Chris to dissolve. Went from best friends to full on enemies. We patched things up as adults.

Liliana had been the girl next door, personality-wise. She actually lived at the opposite end of the block. We didn’t have much in common except for sharing first experiences. She was my first everything and I was with her from the ages of twelve to fourteen. Amanda was definitely not as conservative as Lily. She was into punk. And movies. She most definitely loved SCREAM and its trail of teen slasher knockoffs and watched BUFFY regularly on TV. She was offbeat. Adventurous. And loved to cover her face in glitter. That was the first thing I noticed about her. That and her radiant cat-like green eyes. I found her really beautiful and she even shared a prominent resemblance to Katie Holmes, a compliment she got a lot; DAWSON’S CREEK was all the rage amongst young teens at the time. Amanda also went to school in an entirely different district. In Fullerton. And get this: she too was a cheerleader.

Remember Angie? The stoner who was into the Doors, Misfits, and Smiths at Middle College? Well, she hung around this other group of kids who I wound up getting along with really well. And these kids were very much into ‘60s and ‘70s rock. There was this girl Kat. She was into Janis Joplin. Boom. Off I went and got The Big Brother & the Holding Company’s albums and Joplin’s PEARL from Columbia House. I didn’t know shit about this music. How could I? My parents only listened to old school Spanish stuff. There was no such thing as dad-rock, a term that used to send me laughing. “Yeah, dad-rock to me is Julio Iglesias.” Because of my Janis Joplin deep-dive I thought Robert Plant was a woman. I got lent Zeppelin’s first album and I’m playing it in my mom’s car as we’re driving away from the video store and “Whole Lot of Love” comes on and I thought, “Man, this chick sure knows how to belt!” I got Led Zeppelin’s entire discography in box set form and played it endlessly in my room. Amanda and I would spend hours on the phone talking. She’d ultimately get aggravated and tell me to put some other music on in the background because it’s been five months of NON-STOP LED ZEPPELIN. Her dad chimed in, “What’s wrong with that?”

And I must have played Sabbath’s PARANOID album about eight-thousand times. That album is the most addictive album of all fucking time. And soon I got into Donavan and Dylan and Jefferson Airplane and Creedence. And MORRISON HOTEL, the Doors’ best album, IMO. I was hearing all these things for the first time. And one day I go into Bionic and I buy a Dystopia album along with the Beatles SGT. PEPPER’S. The middle-aged clerk gave me a puzzled look, “These both are for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a very strange kid.”

That Beatles album knocked me out. When I’d take over the stereo in my parents’ car while they were driving, as any teenager should, that’s the album I’d pop on ‘cause I knew they both wouldn’t get annoyed by it.

I just got reminded how I caught my mom humming along to my NEVERMIND CD.

“What’s your favorite band, ma?”

“Los Bukis.”

So I got into all this different kind of rock music all at the same time. Some of the ’70s loving schoolmates also dug the shit out of the ‘80s and soon I was drowning myself in The Cure and Depeche Mode and New Order, Bauhaus and Siouxsie. Goddamn, man. To be a teenager and discovering all these worlds and really marinating in albums. Really marinating in them. I would give anything to experience all those tunes for the first time again.

Rewinding back to the first year at Middle College High. 1998-1999. Deez, Chris, and I bonded over our love of Korn. Uh-huh. Those first two albums. But the third one was the bait-- Todd MacFarlane of SPAWN animated one of their music videos. But we hit it off like you would never believe. The two had been childhood friends and now I had joined the party.

I was so damn angry right before we had become friends. So pissed off. Tired of being bullied around. Ignored. Cast aside. Here I was at this new school and I didn’t know anybody. I ended up befriending this shifty tall kid named Rikk. And Rikk had major chicken pox scars. And he was super deep voiced. There definitely was something odd about him. And we talked a lot about our love of slasher movies. And soon we were talking about the kids in school we hated. Specifically, which ones we would kill had we the chance. This gets very dark here-- we’d go over how we’d murder with knives. And it got to the point where we’d act it out. Soon we were drawing maps of where we’d commit these acts. There was this outdoor elevator right by our school bungalows. Boom. We’d get so-and-so there. And I’m not kidding when I say it started to get too grim. And me? I just went, “Fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck everybody.” But my moral compass sounded off. No way was I actually going to do any of these things. I stopped hanging out with Rikk. Instead, because of my love for horror movies I started writing a slasher script where two school kids do exactly what we were jokingly going to do and they film the whole thing and release it. But I don’t know anything about making movies. Maybe I should start taking this seriously. I was on a college campus and there were a ton of film courses! What am I waiting for?

But my friendship with Deez and Chris and all the shenanigans we got into distracted me from my goals. One afternoon we caught this new music video. It could have been CKY. And the music video is made up of pranks done on a camcorder. Remember when I used to hurl rocks at cars from my rooftop? Now I was like, “Dude. We should do pranks and I’m gonna record it.” And we did. Cut to Deez pushing Chris in a shopping cart down Seventeenth Street during rush hour and he’s mooning all the cars. Got it on video. That school elevator? Pissed in it. Got it on video. The Taco Bell drive-thru sign? Kicked it down. Got it on video.

My neighbor was Elvia Palacios. My mom’s friend. Also Cubana. Her son Gilbert was a handful of years older than me, Deez, and Chris. We gave him dough to nab us beer from the local 711. And we got Tequiza. The first beer I ever had. And actually, I didn’t even drink much of it. I downed about two-and-a-half inches worth. I just didn’t see the appeal. I didn’t know what being drunk was. I didn’t know that’s the reason people drank. Chris finishes his beer. We’re on the Santa Ana college campus now; I lived three blocks from it. We’re in the lunch area on the second floor and I think it’s a weekend so the whole school is deserted. Or so we deem. I see this group of cholo-looking kids walking below us. I grab my camcorder and look at Chris. “Dude. Throw it.” Deez chuckles. I turn the camcorder on.

Chris doesn’t even think twice. He gets the beer bottle, and I think I even get one too, and we all hurl them at the mini-cholos. We don’t even wait to hear the bottles break. We high-tail it, laughing our asses off, camera still running. We run into that famous elevator laughing so damn hard. I tape us having a grand ol’ time in there. We hit the bottom floor, the elevator doors open, we rush out and --- WOOOOOOOP! Campus security corners us.

They take my camera. They sit us against a wall. The cops show up. They take a good look at the three of us. “What gang you in?” Santa Ana used to be riddled with gangs. We don’t say a word.

The other cop takes a look at our shoes. “Huh. Never seen a gang wearing Chucks before.”

Campus security hands them my camera. “They have this.”

They look through my recordings. “Oh,” the cop chuckling. “This is incriminating.”

There it was, all immortalized: all the vandalizing, the pranks, and if you rewound far enough, footage of Solis making his action figures hump (“Hey, make sure you don’t see my face!”).

And on our persons? The rest of the Tequiza bottles.

Oh, man. Oh, man. We were in hot shit. We’re cuffed. Thrown into the back of a police car. Neither of us is able to mutter a word. My dad is going to fucking kill me. My dad is going to shit. My dad is going to fucking shit my skeleton out through my mouth. I glance over at Chris who looks as upset as I feel. We realize the cops are playing The Offspring in their vehicle. Welcome to OC.

“I’ve got a bad habit.”

My dad and I had been getting into it bad. My mom had been away in Cuba that past summer and my pops without my mom around was a wreck. He didn’t know how pick his own clothes, couldn’t handle laundry, kept forgetting to eat, kept forgetting to shave. And we would get into yelling matches all the time. It was terrible. One day he caught me, Deez, and Chris paired off with girls (me with Amanda), doing some questionable sexual activities in separate rooms of the house and he threw me out. I had to go stay at Amanda’s parent’s place.

Now we were in a juvenile holding cell awaiting our murky assignations with our parents. We thought we were going to do time. In juvey. We didn’t say anything for a while. I then said, “Wouldn’t it be cool if there was a zombie attack and all the cops get eaten and the zombies can’t get in here and we’re just like here watching them die?” We started to laugh. Cheer up.

I was the last one to leave. And I sat there by myself for a very long time, shitting bricks. Apparently, they showed all our parents the footage. Ay caramba!

The cops, “They won’t say how they got the beer.” I grew up around my dad’s love of gangster movies. I knew better. Rats don’t make it past the front gates. Mum’s the word.

It’s my turn to go. My parents have zero expression on their faces and they’re there with my niece Karina. She just gives me a look. I get into the back seat of the car. No one’s said a word. We get home. No one says a word. Definitely not what I expected. My parents are very colorful and dramatic but now they’re on silent. I go to my room. My dad comes in. And he just says to me, very low-voiced but stern, “All the times I invited you to have a drink with me and you never did. Instead you vandalize and get wasted with a bunch of delinquents.” And he walks away.

I wish I knew what happened to that tape.

#trashheapsouvenir

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theyoungturks · 1 year

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After fireworks scared her away from her owner, a border collie named Rosie walked into a police station. Ana Kasparian and Cenk Uygur discuss on The Young Turks. Watch TYT LIVE on weekdays 6-8 pm ET. http://youtube.com/theyoungturks/live Read more HERE: https://www.huffpost.com/entry/missing-dog-police-station_n_6374d0a9e4b0283a8d16a399 "Who’s a good girl then? Rosie the missing border collie was quickly reunited with her owner after she walked into a police station on her own steam. Surveillance footage shared by police in Loughborough, England, this week showed the lost pup triggering the automatic doors, strolling inside and sniffing around the reception area." *** The largest online progressive news show in the world. Hosted by Cenk Uygur and Ana Kasparian. LIVE weekdays 6-8 pm ET. Help support our mission and get perks. Membership protects TYT's independence from corporate ownership and allows us to provide free live shows that speak truth to power for people around the world. See Perks: ▶ https://www.youtube.com/TheYoungTurks/join SUBSCRIBE on YOUTUBE: ☞ http://www.youtube.com/subscription_center?add_user=theyoungturks FACEBOOK: ☞ http://www.facebook.com/TheYoungTurks TWITTER: ☞ http://www.twitter.com/TheYoungTurks INSTAGRAM: ☞ http://www.instagram.com/TheYoungTurks TWITCH: ☞ http://www.twitch.com/tyt 👕 Merch: http://shoptyt.com ❤ Donate: http://www.tyt.com/go 🔗 Website: https://www.tyt.com 📱App: http://www.tyt.com/app 📬 Newsletters: https://www.tyt.com/newsletters/ If you want to watch more videos from TYT, consider subscribing to other channels in our network: The Watchlist https://www.youtube.com/watchlisttyt Indisputable with Dr. Rashad Richey https://www.youtube.com/indisputabletyt Unbossed with Nina Turner https://www.youtube.com/unbossedtyt The Damage Report ▶ https://www.youtube.com/thedamagereport TYT Sports ▶ https://www.youtube.com/tytsports The Conversation ▶ https://www.youtube.com/tytconversation Rebel HQ ▶ https://www.youtube.com/rebelhq TYT Investigates ▶ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwNJt9PYyN1uyw2XhNIQMMA #TYT #TheYoungTurks #BreakingNews 221116__BE03DogVsGoingMissingBPV2 by The Young Turks

#IFTTT #YouTube

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me-encontre-no-museu · 7 months

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Na Minha Estante: Livros de Museu para Crianças

Enquanto eu não tive tempo para ler todos, segue um compilado de livros sobre museus para crianças.

O Segredo do Museu Imperial - Stella Carr Bombas destroem bancas de jornais e livrarias. Tútti, com poderes paranormais, prevendo a destruição do Palácio de Cristal, em Petrópolis, pede socorro aos irmãos Marco, Eloís e Isabel. Investigando, ficam trancados no museu com o "estrangulador de criancinhas o "jovem dos olhos sem fundo e sete intelectuais de verdade (que pasmem querem roubar o museu). E nessa confusão é preciso desmascarar o Espectro e descobrir como é que dom Pedro II entrou nessa historia toda.

Uma Noite no Museu: O Segredo da Tumba - Michael Anthony Steele O guarda-noturno Larry Daley se estabeleceu em seu papel como zelador dos habitantes mágicos do Museu de História Natural de Nova York. Contudo, ele está prestes a enfrentar o maior desafio de todos os tempos quando, na companhia de seus amigos, descobre que a fonte misteriosa que os traz à vida todas as noites está desaparecendo rapidamente. A busca de Larry por respostas desta vez leva-o para o Museu Britânico, em Londres, onde irá começar um verdadeiro caos da magia. Será que ele vai ser capaz de salvar seus amigos a tempo? Ou eles estarão fadados a desaparecer para sempre?

Vamos ao Museu? - Nereide Schilaro Santa Rosa Você gosta de colecionar objetos Sabia que foi assim que nasceu o primeiro museu O museu é o lugar onde se guardam coisas que são importantes para a história de um país, de uma época e de um povo, no campo do conhecimento, da cultura, das tradições e das ciências. Existem museus de Arte, museus de Ciências e museus históricos. Nessas categorias há museus de todos os tipos: de móveis, objetos, da língua de um país, de arte sacra, de fósseis, de animais, de obras de arte e muito mais. Vamos juntos descobrir esse mundo de novas experiências

Mistério no Museu Imperial - Ana Cristina Massa Um grupo de meninos e meninas em busca de desafios - os Invencíveis. Assim eles se autodenominam para enfrentar outros grupos em jogos e disputas na internet. A aventura começa numa visita com a escola ao museu imperial de Petrópolis, onde compraram um quebra cabeças de três mil peças. Na tentativa de montá-lo o mais rápido possivel. Os invencíveis percebem que estão diante de um mistério que poderá levá-los a um desafio maior uma investigação que é um verdadeiro quebra-cabeças. a curiosidade os faz voltar a Petrópolis e ao Museu Imperial. antiga residência de verão de D.Pedro II e procurar as informações do presente e também do passado - que ajudem a desvendar o mistério.

Incêndio no Museu - Isa Colli "Os animais que ali viviam eram muito espertos e atentos. Quando os funcionários do Museu Imperial faziam hora de almoço no zoológico, conversavam sobre tudo e eles acabavam escutando. Uns mais, outros menos, mas todos que por ali passeavam ouviram sobre os riscos reais de perda de um patrimônio mundial. Eles amavam o museu, mas se sentiam impotentes e vencidos pelo desânimo."

Museu Impressionista Ilustrado Este livro está recheado de famosas obras de pintores impressionistas. Você vai aprender sobre os pintores, as inspirações para suas artes e como eles influenciaram uns aos outros para produzir algumas das obras mais admiradas mundialmente. Lindas ilustrações das peças originais em cada página, além de detalhes de muitas obras.

Meu Museu - Maísa Zakzuk Neste livro, uma menina de nove anos escolheu o Masp, em São Paulo, para sua primeira visita a um museu. O olhar da garota revela que as obras de arte podem ser vistas de maneiras diferentes, e traz todas as noções para crianças e adultos que visitam um museu pela primeira vez. Com uma linguagem simples e belas ilustrações, a personagem nos revela um mundo por trás das artes: conta a história sobre a construção do Masp, como os museus se organizam, como são as exposições, e muito mais. O livro traz, ainda, obras dos mais famosos pintores da história da arte: Renoir, Monet, Picasso, Lasar Segall, Portinari, entre outros.

A Pequena Gilda no Museu - Flávia Azevedo Gilda é uma menina muito curiosa e sempre se interessou por arte, que só conhecia pelos livros. No dia do seu aniversário, seu pai promete levá-la ao museu próximo de sua casa, mas ele não aparece. Gilda vai sozinha e lá tem a sorte de conhecer o Sr. Manuel, zelador do museu, também apaixonado pela arte brasileira. Guiada pelo Sr. Manuel, Gilda conhece grandes artistas contemporâneos como Lygia Clark, Hélio Oiticica e Tarsila do Amaral.

Bônus: Bruxa Onilda vai a Paris

Bruxa Onilda em Paris não é um livro de museu para crianças, mas a série Bruxa Onilda marcou minha infância e o Louvre fica em Paris. Então fica aqui minha homenagem para um dos livros que me fez leitora.

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gazeta24br · 7 months

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Como outubro é o mês das crianças, que tal aproveitar o período para apresentar aos pequenos o mundo da literatura infantojuvenil? E já que no dia 12 a tradição é dar presentes, a Colli Books Editora listou 8 dicas de leitura com diversos autores que abordam temas como diversidade, sustentabilidade, autismo, empreendedorismo e amizade. São assuntos que a garotada pode aprender de maneira leve e com muito entretenimento. Segundo Isa Colli, gestora da editora Colli Books, a leitura é uma oportunidade de abrir portas para o mundo do conhecimento, e com isso, levar a meninada a estimular a criatividade. “Fico muito feliz em oferecer livros que têm o poder de transformar e desenvolver o lado crítico das crianças. E o principal é que escolher livros no lugar de brinquedos é diversão garantida. Acredite”, ressalta a executiva. Confira a lista de livros para o Dia das Crianças: O menino que descobriu as cores Os autores Tais Faccioli e Tiago Vilariño oferecem às crianças aquela ajudinha para pintar o sete e o leitor acompanha as peripécias do personagem Jorginho em suas andanças pelo mundo das cores. Durante a leitura, a dica é deixar com as crianças papel, lápis de cor, giz de cera, aquarela, guache ou o que tiver em casa, para que elas possam criar seus desenhos enquanto ouvem a história. Como sobreviver até os 13 anos Do autor Claus Cataldi. O adolescente criou um diário das suas próprias vivências com conselhos que podem ser úteis para a garotada que, certamente, vai se identificar com muitas situações. O título traz, de forma leve e divertida, acontecimentos rotineiros de sua infância, apontando dicas e soluções, uma espécie de autoajuda para o público teen. Como música para os ouvidos O livro da autora Isa Colli conta a história de Nicolas, um garoto autista que enfrenta desafios importantes ao ingressar em uma escola regular. A narrativa destaca a jornada do protagonista, sua família e os professores que o apoiam, demonstrando que a inclusão é possível quando há amor, compreensão e dedicação. Uma das características mais marcantes da obra é a capacidade da autora de transmitir, de forma delicada e autêntica, as experiências do menino Nicolas, permitindo que os leitores compreendam as complexidades do autismo e as emoções do garoto. Além disso, "Como Música para os Ouvidos" oferece uma visão valiosa sobre o papel dos educadores na inclusão de alunos com deficiência. Os atores que cercam Nicolas são apresentados como modelos positivos de professores que se esforçam para criar um ambiente escolar inclusivo e acolhedor. Com os pés sujos de Lama E quem precisa dar um alerta sobre o excesso de tecnologia, o livro “Com os pés sujos de Lama” pode dar uma ajudinha. A escritora Ana Rapha Nunes mostra a importância que atribui aos vínculos construídos na infância, seja com a mãe, o pai, a avó, um amigo, enfim, relacionamentos que cada vez mais vão se tornando distantes em nosso tempo de pressa, muito trabalho e contatos virtuais. As aventuras de Aduke Uma história da escritora Eliane Benício que se passa na escola e ensina cidadania para as crianças. Quando pequenos, não sabemos ao certo quem somos ou por que somos assim, assado ou ensopado. Mas é de pequeno que a gente descobre as coisas. Aduke ficou encantada ao conhecer suas origens africanas! Ela quis logo contar aos seus amigos da escola, que também partilharam o que sabiam de suas próprias origens! E todos ali perceberam e se alegraram de pertencer a um lugar com tanta riqueza e diversidade! O Rio Grinalda Nos dias de hoje, é impossível não pensar na sustentabilidade do planeta. “O Rio Grinalda” é a opção ideal para aproximar a meninada deste universo. O livro da escritora Isa Colli fala sobre poluição dos rios, alerta para a degradação ambiental e a mostra a importância da reciclagem. Nesta história, os bichos ensinam como agir diante de situações de depredações e falta de cuidado com a natureza. A fada Verduxa E para quem gosta de folclore, não há melhor escolha que “A Fada Verduxa”.

A protagonista - metade fada, metade curupira -, é protetora das matas de uma belíssima região chamada Montes Belos. O local sofre a ação de um ganancioso madeireiro, mas Verduxa faz de tudo para defender sua floresta. É uma dica de leitura perfeita, que pode incentivar também a pesquisa sobre as diferentes lendas do curupira existentes em nosso folclore. Tatúlio em: conta comigo Dos autores Renato Oliveira e Marcelo Correia mostra às crianças e seus pais a importância de se colocar no papel do próximo, especialmente quando esse está passando por alguma situação ruim. Todos os livros da editora podem ser encontrados facilmente no Brasil, na Europa e no mundo todo nos principais sites de e-commerce no formato impresso e e-book. Seguem alguns exemplos de lojas: Amazon, Wook, Fnac, Americanas, Submarino, entre outros. Informações: www.collibooks.com.br

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untitled42566 · 10 months

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Si procede spediti per la realizzazione dello svincolo di Calcinelli della superstrada E78

Si procede spediti per la realizzazione dello svincolo di Calcinelli della superstrada E78 COLLI AL METAURO – Si è svolto il sopralluogo nella zona in cui sorgerà il nuovo svincolo di Calcinelli-zona laghi lungo la superstrada E78 Fano-Grosseto. Presenti i tecnici di Anas e dello studio di ingegneria incaricato della progettazione. Oltre all’assessore alle infrastrutture della Regione Marche…

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thesolarsystemsworld · 1 year

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anyways its been quiet for a while again. saw rocket & cave & i think jes and collie yesterday morning ? rocket and cave were excited for halloween lol but i was in fashion class so they got bored pretty fast. ana showed up for a minute a couple days ago which was weird ? bc it was just my friends system saying smth abt one of THEIR alters and she chimed in? girl am i missing something -✂️

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444names · 2 years

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american, swedish and tolkienesque forenames + theological angels and demons

(experimental: length of names limited to maximum of 6 letters)

Adien Adkir Adony Aell Agie Agol Agor Ahie Aland Alarl Alas Alat Alava Albez Aldwae Aldway Aleril Alia Alin Aline Alius Ally Alto Amene Amil Amildë Aming Ana Ance Andi Andola Andong Ang Annes Anoc Apoc Aprin Ara Arah Araph Arcel Arick Arist Arjos Armel Arris Arth Arver Asmus Audvid Auri Azou Badrie Bahta Bakil Bald Baraim Barch Barim Bart Belie Belina Beron Bery Borony Brac Brana Bras Brax Bres Bron Brotte Cala Calawn Calite Campur Cara Card Cata Charm Chas Chedri Ciri Clah Clason Clauri Clim Cola Colie Coline Colly Corah Coree Cothus Crac Croch Cubi Culor Curtz Curut Cusha Dandar Dart Deah Dealto Delin Dell Demmie Denbus Deremy Dini Diraik Dolor Dona Drie Dui Déota Ebah Ebol Eddiel Edim Eirë Elevin Eley Eliam Elica Elicia Elio Elma Elmold Elron Emion Emod Emolas Emond Endama Ene Erant Erion Erman Erna Erry Esil Este Esth Euge Eune Eusie Evin Eärene Eärt Far Farry Faur Fela Felda Fer Filmae Finard Findor Fingo Flach Flaur Fold Fora Framog Franc Fregon Fremy Fren Frenny Fril Fuil Fília Gabno Gador Galick Gama Gamael Gamel Gamiah Gamie Gamra Ganeil Gant Gardia Gelie Geor Gil Gine Glas Glorin Gold Gomor Gonia Gor Gorla Gracey Grie Guadan Guelie Guson Guste Haas Hab Halie Hally Hamer Haminy Han Hany Hary Haug Hell Hellie Herego Heren Heris Heryl Hewil Hiel Hil Hirk Hiry Hugle Hyari Hámo Húrina Iandia Ingold Irya Isa Isida Ista Isth Istif Ivriel Jach Jalas Jamiah Jamina Janise Janita Janto Jarest Jeank Jeata Jefine Jerth Jese Jessak Jikton Jili Johtam Joryl Joseir Josion Juldë Junír Karesa Karie Keenet Kella Kelm Kenrim Kevian Khardi Khâl Kiene Kinia Klia Klil Kris Krob Kryl Ladûn Lanie Lecton Lennia Leodo Leos Lepal Lestë Lette Levad Liah Linne Llyne Loin Lokel Lomody Lor Lorin Loth Lovery Luce Luchus Lumbur Luzu Lúthin Maci Mader Maed Mael Manne Mannyë Mard Maron Marve Maryas Maus Maynne Meel Mels Menex Mephir Mictha Miel Mil Milie Milla Min Mine Miny Minya Minyë Molie Nanákh Nargie Narvey Nie Niel Niston Nita Nolë Nor Nordan Norenn Nárick Níni Nólime Nómin Olil Olis Ond Orgim Origne Oriney Ornel Ornen Oshad Palph Pamir Pamy Pate Pattia Peand Pedha Peld Pendë Pene Periel Phie Phiel Phimor Phir Phis Phuori Pithe Poce Prinan Rancy Randin Rasta Razôn Redhas Riche Rogo Ronien Ronon Ros Rosey Ríana Rúth Sabrio Sach Saendi Sale Samen Saraci Scolim Seara Shee Shel Shesa Shil Sieta Siggo Sili Sitin Son Stann Stelm Stie Stiel Strie Syan Syla Tamept Teron Thelin Thir Thrist Théodd Tracil Triel Tuele Tzach Uglod Ulmoth Uord Uros Vain Valam Valda Vard Velmer Verta Viara Vice Vindra Vines Viste Vistel Vive Wadûn Walat Wandy Warah Wilor Wisy Óine

#444names #444 names

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acontecerpotosino · 2 months

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Exitoso Conversatorio y PechaKucha: “Mujeres en el arte y la cultura” en el programa Femenino Plural

Exitoso Conversatorio y PechaKucha: “Mujeres en el arte y la cultura” en el programa Femenino Plural · En el conversatorio participaron Adriana Corral Bustos, Guadalupe Lópezwogñis, Arely Mireles, Miriam F. Perales, Laura Rojas y Vanessa Cortés Collis. · Mientras que en el PechaKucha (exposición rápida del quehacer artístico), participaron Alejandra Fraga, Ana Castelán, Arely Mireles, Cinthya…