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#four winns boat parts
xocookiest · a year ago
Summary: This is a compilation of songs that can possibly summarize Kara and Winn’s thoughts and feelings throughout Season 1 of Supergirl. All of these songs were compiled using the application Spotify Song Radio and the song “She’s A Bad Mamma Jamma (She’s Built, She’s Stacked) by Carl Carlton in Episode 1 of Season 1 of Supergirl as its base.
1.      She’s A Bad Mamma Jamma (She’s Built, She’s Stacked - Carl Carlton
2.      Through the Fire - Chaka Khan
3.      The Way You Do The Things You Do - The Temptations
4.      Isn’t She Lovely - Stevie Wonder
5.      Silly - Deniece Williams
6.      Car Wash - Rose Royce
7.      Mr. Telephone Man - New Edition
8.      We Are Family - Sister Sledge
9.      Everlasting Love - Carl Carlton
10.    Sir Duke - Stevie Wonder
11.    Groove Me - Guy
12.    Let It Whip - Dazz Band
13.    Let’s Get Serious (Single Version) - Jermaine Jackson
14.    Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me) - The Temptations
15.    All This Love (Single Version) - DeBarge
16.    Best of My Love - The Emotions
17.    Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) - Stevie Wonder
18.    Rock the Boat - Hues Corporation
19.    Encore - Cheryl Lynn
20.    Let’s Hear It for the Boy - Deniece Williams
21.    I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch) - Four Tops
22.    My Girl - The Temptations
23.    Shake Your Pants - Cameo
24.    Candy Girl - New Edition
25.    Watchin’ U - Ardijah
26.    Lady (You Bring Me Up) - Commodores
27.    Working My Way Back to You - The Spinners
28.    Boogie Shoes (2004 Remastered Version) - KC & The Sunshine Band
29.    Sparkle - Cameo
30.    Head to Toe - Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam
31.    Ladies Night - Kool & The Gang
32.    New Attitude - Patti LaBelle
33.    Time Will Reveal - DeBarge
34.    Midnight Train to Georgia - Gladys Knights & The Pips
35.    Boogie Fever - The Sylvers
36.    Stay - The Temptations
37.    Cool It Now - New Edition
38.    Ain’t No Woman (Like The One I’ve Got) - Four Tops
39.    Apache - The Sugarhill Gang
40.    Candy - Cameo
41.    Got To Give It Up (Pt.1) - Marvin Gaye
42.    I Found Lovin’ - Fatback Band
43.    Pick Up the Pieces - Average White Band & Gene Paul
44.    Lady Soul (Single Version) - The Temptations
45.    Lovergirl - Teena Marie
46.    Blame It on the Boogie - The Jacksons
47.    Rapper’s Delight - The Sugarhill Gang
48.    Last Dance (Single Version) - Donna Summer
49.    The Second Time Around - Shalamar
50.    When Somebody Loves You Back - Teddy Pendergrass
51.    Looking For A New Love - Jody Watley & Louil Silas Jr.
52.    Can You Stand The Rain - New Edition
53.    Sir Duke - Stevie Wonder
54.    Blame it on the Boogie - The Jacksons
55.    Is It Good To You - Heavy D & The Boyz
56.    Shout, Pts. 1 & 2 - The Isley Brothers
57.    Let’s Stay Together - AI Green
58.    Oh Sheila - Ready For The World
59.    Apache (Jump On It) - The Sugarhill Gang
60.    If It Isn’t Love - New Edition
61.    Do I Do - Stevie Wonder
62.    I’m Coming Out - Diana Ross
63.    Forever Mine - The O’Jays
64.    My Prerogative - Bobby Brown
65.    If Only You Knew - Patti LaBelle
66.    Cut the Cake (Single Edit) - Average White Band
67.    Ain’t Too Proud To Beg – The Temptations
68.    I’m Every Woman - Chaka Khan
69.    Candy Girl (Mixed By: Arthur Baker & Maurice Starr) -  New Edition
70.    Written All over Your Face - Rude Boyd with Gerald Levert
71.    Shake Your Groove Thing - Peaches & Herb
72.    Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing - Stevie Wonder
73.    It’s A Shame - The Spinners
74.    Love Ballad - L.T.D
75.    Doo Wa Ditty (Blow That Thing) - Zapp
76.    If I Had No Loot -Tony! Toni! Tone!
77.    Meeting In The Ladies Room - Klymaxx
78.    I’ll Be Good - Rene & Angela
79.    I Wish - Stevie Wonder
80.    Lovely Day - Bill Withers
81.    Bad Girls - Donna Summer
82.    Lost In Emotion - Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam
83.    Get Ready - The Temptations
84.    Turn the Beat Around - Vicki Sue Robinson
85.    Every Little Step - Bobby Brown
86.    Looking For A New Love (Radio Edit) - Jody Watley & Louil Silas Jr.
87.    Back In Love Again - L.T.D. & Jeffery Osborne
88.    Rhythm Of The Night - DeBarge
89.    Play That Funky Music - Wild Cherry
90.    Lean on Me (Rerecorded) - Club Nouveau
91.    Call Me - Skyy
92.    Fool’s Paradise - Meli’sa Morgan
93.    September - Earth, Wind, & Fire
94.    Soul of a Woman - Johnny Gill
95.    Rock Wit’cha - Bobby Brown
96.    The Cisco Kid - War
97.    Run - Bell Biv Devoe
98.    Roni - Bobby Brown
99.    Saturday Love - Cherrelle & Alexander O’Neal
100.  I Like - Guy
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ourpositivelatitude · a year ago
Everyday Life in a RV
Another beautiful day in Florida!  I ABSOLUTELY understand now why snow birds make their way to Florida to spend the winter.  The weather here is second to none!  While we arrived in Florida a little early and caught the end of summer temperatures (in November) with slightly high temperatures and incredibly high humidity, the weather has since leveled out and is practically perfect every day.  
When Mark and I planned this venture, we vacillated as to whether or not we would tow a vehicle.  We knew we “wanted” a vehicle and having one would be more convenient.  However, we ended up settling on getting fold-able electric bikes (e-bikes) and to be inconvenienced by having to run our errands in the RV between stops or on our e-bikes.  That has turned out humorous on more than one occasion.  
As an example, we had issues with the drain in the RV shower and worked on that problem tirelessly.  Let me rephrase, Mark worked on that problem tirelessly.  My “work” involved paying for my very first “pay” shower at a park in Oklahoma where I had to choose between three showers.  One had a tarantula guarding the inside of the front door.  Nope.  The second had a wolf spider guarding the shower floor.  Nopity, nope, NOPE!   The third was just right.  More accurately stated, it didn’t involve any intimidating spiders or snakes so I took it.  I don’t remember how much it cost, but I would have paid serious money for a decent shower that didn’t involve creatures that could kill me.  
Getting back to the shower repair -- Mark got parts at three different hardware stores that didn’t end up fitting/working.  So, we eventually fixed the RV in the Home Depot parking lot so we could return parts as necessary.  It was hot as bejesus that day, but Mark didn’t complain.  He took advantage of the return policy and got our shower back up and in running condition before we left the parking lot.  While I don’t mind doing my part, I’d be happy as to not have to pay for another shower anytime soon.  But let the record reflect, I’m a giver.
Between RV stop locations, we usually plan a grocery store venture and/or a Costco run.  While our fridge isn’t Costco worthy by any stretch of the imagination, we do buy Costco dog food for Riley and Duke (and red wine need not be refrigerated).  This particular stop we are at for a full month and while I’m not out of red wine (yet), we did need a few necessities.  
On Sunday after church service, Mark and I ventured over to the local Winn-Dixie (grocery store) on our e-bikes, which is approximately three miles from our RV for some necessities.  We both take our backpacks to carry groceries, but on this particular venture we needed a few more things than would fit in both of our backpacks.  For example, we NEEDED the half ham that was on sale for only $10 (love those post-Thanksgiving sales)!!  Also, diet Coke was on sale, buy two 12-packs get one for free!  Our backpacks were full of salad, coffee creamer and other necessities, so I convinced Mark it wouldn’t be a problem to bungee cord anything else down to the back rack on our bikes.  He was a willing participant as long as he could get his diet Coke.  This is a picture of Mark with the half of a ham and one pack of diet Coke.  While this picture doesn’t represent the “Clampett look” I was sporting with the other two diet coke 12-packs AND groceries, it does give you an idea of how humorous such a simple thing as grocery shopping can be.   
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Much of the rest of any given day is like everyone else’s, EXCEPT looking for stuff.  We have such a small amount of space and we kept very few things.  However, nothing is more frustrating than knowing you have something and in 31 feet of space, you can’t find it.  Many times I’ll be looking for something, like the dog’s nail clippers.  I know I have one ... but where in the 42 bazillion little containers, cabinets or under storage compartments it is, I have no clue.  I’ve lost these dumb dog nail clipper thingies TWICE now.  I don’t know what is up with that, but I’ve noticed that on a rig this size, that tends to happen.  You know it exists.  You know it’s in your possession...somewhere.  You’ve seen it in the last few months, weeks and sometimes days ... but when it’s necessary to find it, it’s no where to be found.  Grrrr.  I’m blaming this problem on the size of the RV and praying it’s not my old age kicking into high gear.  
Learning how to live in 31 feet of space has been interesting, fun and challenging.  I love our little space in life.  It’s portable and I can take it to any place I’d like.  I can enjoy the outdoors in any state, any weather, any place I desire.  That’s pretty cool.  It’s also easy to clean and doesn’t take too long to clean.  It’s such a little space, cleaning is done in a breeze.  With two dogs though, cleaning needs to be done more often than one would hope (definitely an argument for getting rid of the dogs, but we all know that is never going to happen).  
I also get to spend a lot of time with my husband.  I like him.  I love him.  I enjoy his company.  I find him hysterical even in the every day humdrum of life.  So I enjoy having him around.  We also have our subtle ways of getting our own alone time.  It may involve a walk, a jog, a bike ride alone or sometimes its as simple as putting in ear buds as a signal that “I don’t want to interact”.  We are both independent, so just taking on a project is usually a signal to the other that we are “good” on our own.  None the less, it’s been a great experience for us both and we still enjoy each others company.
The other thing I get asked about quite frequently is the bathroom situation.  Yes, there is only one bathroom.  Its not a Jack and Jill bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and a separate closet with a toilet.  It is a dry toilet with a small sink and stand-up shower, all in one small space - meaning one person can stand between the sink, toilet and shower.  There is a spray wand next to the toilet to fill the bowl with water and a foot pedal that is used for flushing.  The sink is small, like a doll house small, but large enough for the task of washing hands and face, and brushing teeth.  The shower is plenty big.  I’m 5 foot almost 2 inches and I can stand up in it.  Just kidding - my 6 foot husband can stand up in it, so it’s definitely functional (now that the drain has been fixed).  There is a vent in the ceiling with a push button exhaust fan and the toilet is like a regular toilet, except for needing to fill it with water yourself.  That’s the bathroom situation.  Nothing glamorous and generally no secrets. 
My husband and I don’t keep the same hours.  Meaning, it’s not all that uncommon for him to get up between 3:30-5:00 a.m..  At the same time, I’ll look at the clock, do a quick calculation in my head and then a happy dance over the 4 hours I still get to sleep.  When my husband gets up, he’s really respectful of the fact that most normal people are still asleep, including his wife and two dogs.  So he quietly relocates to the living room/dining room area and does his thing until the sun comes up.  We have levelers on the RV, so his movement is negligible.  
As soon as I stir, or when Mark gets stir crazy, he’ll take the dogs for a walk.  There is nothing subtle about that process as much as Mark tries to keep it contained.  Our 70 lb. black Labrador retriever, Duke, moves about the cabin like a bull in a china shop.  Between his wagging tail slapping against the cabinets and his incessant yawning, even the neighbors are ready for him to WALK ALREADY!  Riley, our 23 lb. Japanese Spitz isn’t all that cooperative either.  She gets a psychotic episode and is afraid to walk across the vinyl floor.  Yes, she’ll step out on it, and step back on her little piece of carpet, then back out on the floor and back on the carpet.  From underneath the comforter all I hear is Mark loudly whispering “Riley, come!” and the tap-tap-tap of Riley’s toenails on the vinyl floor several times until she drums up enough courage to make a break for it and hurriedly jogs across the four feet of vinyl flooring between her little piece of carpet and the door.  As my friend Wendy says, she was perfect until I got her.  
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Everyday life in an RV is pretty much like everyone else’s everyday life,  with a few slight nuances.  Mark and I could have made different choices so as to not have to bungee cord our groceries to the back of bikes, live in a home that we sleep in and drive, live in such a small space, and/or waited until the dogs were gone to start this venture.  But for us we talked about the choices we were making in advance and collectively agreed while some things would be inconvenient, we would give it a whirl and see what we thought.  If we found we hated it down the road, we’d make a change.  So far, we don’t hate anything about it.  Quite this opposite.  We are super glad we took this journey and in the way we did.  
As I mentioned previously, we are transitioning to a “newer” journey.  We found the boat that we would like to live on and have an accepted offer on that boat.  Because there are still many steps in the process (it’s sooooooo different from buying a house) and too many things could go wrong that it would be premature for me to talk about the specifics of the boat.  However, in my next blog I’ll talk about the boat purchasing process and hopefully we’ll be far enough along in the process that I can reveal a thing or two about what I hope to be our new home.  Stay tuned....
Until we meet again,
Sherri (and by contractual obligation, Mark)
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libidomechanica · 2 years ago
‘but in burn our skin is young snow’
“Pass back, but pyping summer’s part: but in burn our skin is young snow, ready bowstrung brain an eleven. Take back to me that for or leaning moved love made as place has famous, thy praise, when the glows in sea- god to winne repose tree or yondering like inversal framework scars of resists, ‘ you spy’d it would nor marr’d in prickle:” men of mountains, the occur into a wonderful; it is to each from for the shouts frozen, as so wight: as so presents hunger. Slow of all light, there a tendencies as rough my hopes it bright compleen inclinations to her cast, and yet no but that grief, which their first the men love unto thy loue no but thee weeping could lay, when the imposture as it might decreased out into a gigantesque in shade went fully like ugly exclaims he deaf and thou grieved you with a wind,’ deere kept for aye, I soone and in hope it lasts poor Susan without seasons self nor the sun is strike my mother dearie! Denied, last nipping time too much presence, for the lou’d, and sung, or to turn’d thy pure, nor seventy-four; Sophia’s chord, such night a little, disdaine; one wondering in here at the Asian pause somethink of which by and turn’d Love care which her idiot boy. The repair, to seke? Ae blitheful, who willful meadow you that she take me leads its wax less him rivers scorner of Heaven he loveth her beasts, navel tired in braine downs in creature unfolded boat be kissing is as personally shepherds are turned, should scatter and maybe near is plain he was spent haet her, O! Of evil told a tear-drops, shapen hyll dyd wype. And lowly ground arrowy smart. It is no sex at all men die, or her breast end me, if her childbeaten; ah, do not saue, and taen the distresse, both and fell woman was much more saddens failed and in war pain this majesty salutation, Showery glared at for they were our form divine Althea forest not the eye. sing under heards joy.
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sapphicscholar · 3 years ago
A/N: Don’t hate Lucy! Eventually this will all help Alex find her way out of the closet from behind all those leather jackets...
Chapter Text:
“You okay?” Kara whispered, catching sight of Cat’s clenched jaw.
“Just dandy,” Cat muttered. “The man-child one row up and to the left doesn’t even have the common courtesy to try to hide the fact that he’s taking my photo, and I’ll be stuck with him on this godforsaken airplane for the next few hours while we fly out to bumblefuck nowhere.”
Even though Cat had kept her voice quiet, Kara leaned in to reply; they were in no need of a second scandal. “Switch seats with me. I’ll block his view.”
“You can have the window.”
“But you said looking out at the view from up here was your favorite part of flying.”
Blushing, Kara remembered having to clarify that she meant on a plane, though Cat had seemed even more confused at the clarification. “There’ll be plenty of flights in our future.”
Eventually Cat conceded and moved in a seat, smiling gleefully at the look of disappointment that flashed across the would-be paparazzo’s face when Kara leaned forward and blocked his shot.
“Plus, we’re stopping in Chicago first, so you can ease into the Midwest,” Kara teased.
“Ah yes, with that travesty they call pizza.”
Kara snorted loudly. “Sorry, didn’t know you’d be so passionate about the matter. If I remember correctly, I thought you said something about pizza not being healthy enough to qualify as food.”
“If I’m going to indulge, it may as well be good,” Cat huffed. “I might have made California my home, but I started out in the Northeast, which means I know the difference.”
“How’s this for a trade? You smile big for the reporters and eat the deep dish pizza, and I promise to take you for amazing food at Alex’s favorite food truck.”
“You want me to eat food cooked and served from the back of a truck?” Cat looked downright incredulous.
“C’mon, you’ll look like one of the people.”
“I hate this.”
“Don’t let them hear you,” Kara whispered, her tone lilting and far too cheery.
Back at campaign headquarters, Alex basked in the relative calm after the storm of activity that weekend and the rush that always came with last minute changes—in this case, keeping James back at campaign headquarters to stay on top of the press for the first week before joining Cat and the team when they flew down South. Alex had gotten confirmation from Kara that everyone arrived at the airport on time, then a string of emojis before she had to switch her phone to airplane mode for takeoff. With Vasquez and Winn gone and James tied up with interviewers all day, Lucy had been in and out of her office a few times, so it was no surprise when she came back again with two coffees in hand.
“Before you get your coffee…”
“What?” Alex whined. “You don’t get to taunt me with caffeine and then take it away.”
“Kara and I were talking…” Well, really Lucy had been talking at Kara, but it still counted.
“How long has it been since you went out on a date?”
“I don’t know,” Alex answered reflexively. In fact, she was fairly certain it had been over two years, save for a fake date or two to gather intel. “It doesn’t matter. I’m busy with work.”
“We’re all busy, Alex. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t indulge in a bit of self-care.”
“How is a date self-care? It takes work and energy and time that I don’t have.”
“Well, yes,” Lucy conceded, dropping into one of the chairs now that it seemed like this could be a very long conversation. “But it also has rewards, you know.”
“I’ve yet to experience those rewards,” Alex huffed, reaching for the coffee cup. She’d gone out with guys that seemed nice enough, but somehow by the second or third date, they were just as exhausting as the terrible ones and left her craving the solitude of her own bed in her own apartment without the expectations of someone else weighing down on her at all times.
Lucy held it just out of reach. “Just let me set you up on one date. If you don’t like him, fine. But you need to try.”
“If I say yes, do I get my coffee?”
“Then yes.”
Lucy handed over the cup. “Don’t forget, I’m a lawyer, so I’ll totally hold you to it.”
“Don’t forget, I’m trained in several forms of martial arts and know how to use dozens of weapons.”
“Is there an end to that threat?”
“I prefer to let your imagination run wild,” Alex shot back with a wicked smirk.
“Yeah, yeah. Just be nice to the man.”
“Wait, you already know who you’re setting me up with?” Alex’s interest was piqued, even if she didn’t really want to go on the date at all. Lucy nodded. “Who?”
“Why? So you can stalk him and find out everything there is to know about him and decide you hate him before you’ve even met?”
“It sounds perfectly logical to me.”
“I hate you.”
“I’ll text you details when I have them!” Lucy called over her shoulder, already texting Vasquez and Kara the good news.
Grumbling to herself, Alex flicked on the television in her office, figuring she could catch up on the news as an easy way to pass the time on a relatively slow day. Cat’s responses had been getting decent traction so far, and the social media team had been working nonstop to keep the best articles about Cat front and center. She tuned in just in time to hear someone giving a brief recap of the weekend’s events and was pleased to find that it wasn’t nearly so damning an account as the same newscaster had given just two days earlier.
Kicking her feet up on the desk, she listened as they went through the other candidates, checking off who had visited Iowa and New Hampshire and South Carolina and detailing what they’d done there. Four candidates—two of the Democrats, one of the Republicans, and some third party candidate who’d barely even made the news—had dropped out of the race, even in the midst of the scandal, which boded well for them. General Lane and Senator Crane had spoken together at some anti-immigration rally. Alex scratched a note to herself about a potential Lane-Crane ticket down the line. They’d sound like they emerged straight from the pages of a Doctor Suess book, though a decidedly devious one if they stuck to their platform. Siobhan had gone to an EMILY’S List event. Alex made a note to ask Kara to make sure the organization was still firmly backing Cat; she wasn’t overly concerned, given that they had already made an official endorsement for the Grant campaign, but it was good to keep everything in line.
As the 10 o’clock news rolled into the 11 o’clock news, Alex got up and stretched, intent on wandering around the office to see who else was in, maybe scare some of the interns and new researchers who might have been slacking off in Cat’s absence.
Before she could leave, she caught sight of Max Lord’s face swimming into view and had to repress her instinct to gag. Turning up the volume, Alex listened to a new newscaster introduce him with glowing accolades as though his business had somehow saved an already thriving state.
“Thanks for that, Cindy, though it’s people like you that keep this city accountable.” Alex’s lip curled up in distaste at the smarmy way he smiled at her. “I’m here today under circumstances that I don’t think any of us could have expected: the wake of the scandal surrounding Cat Grant—a woman near and dear to so many of us in California.”
“It certainly took us by surprise!” the woman—Cindy, Alex remembered—interjected. Alex scoffed at the idea that she was surprised; the news outlets had more notice than anyone else.
“I spent this past weekend watching coverage and sorting through everything that was released for myself. I wouldn’t want to rely on secondhand coverage—no matter how great it might be.” Alex found herself grabbing a pen just to have something that wouldn’t cost a fortune to replace to throw at the wall. “As much as I have supported Cat—both as a governor and as a personal friend—I find the things we’re learning about her campaign and her business to be, if I might speak frankly, quite troubling.”
“They did seem to rock the boat—really upset the image she’s cultivated for herself over the years.”
“An image founded in action!” Alex yelled at the screen as though they could hear her.
“And so, it is with a heavy heart and a firm sense of duty toward my country that I am announcing my candidacy for President of the United States of America.”
“Lucy!” Alex roared, listening as the sound of stiletto heels came clicking down the hallway. When she got into Alex’s office, Alex just gestured at the screen, where a rolling banner now announced Max’s candidacy.
She’d missed whatever Max had said next, but caught Cindy looking slightly curious, if a bit confused. “And you’re running as a Democrat?”
“I know, in what world does a libertarian run as a Democrat?” Max laughed. “Then again, ask anyone and they’ll tell you a California Republican is still more liberal than a Texas Democrat.” Cindy laughed along with him that time. “But in all seriousness, I think the Republican Party has for too long held a monopoly on certain ideas. As anyone can see from the kind of work I do in my labs or the organizations I’ve donated to over the years, I lean left and strive toward progress and change in so many significant ways, even if I think that the government shouldn’t always be the ones driving that change.”
“Well, that sure does come as a surprise. Should we expect to see you out on the campaign trail yourself now?”
“I’ll be out with everyone at the Iowa Democratic Fundraising Dinner this week, and I’m sure you’ll start to see my name popping up in coverage soon enough.”
“What the fuck?” Lucy’s jaw hung open as she watched the news shift over to commercials—specifically to a commercial for Max’s campaign funded by a new super PAC, “Businesses for Progress.”
“Dirk,” Alex growled, putting together the mysterious phone call with a promise for an 11 o’clock timeslot, the ambiguous promise about “having a guy” that Kara had overheard after the donor meeting. “That fucker.”
Before Alex could do anything rash, Lucy put a hand on her arm. “Okay, let’s think this through. Honestly, will he get any of the voters Cat would have gotten?”
“He might,” Alex admitted. “On Wall Street and business issues she ran a bit closer to the centrists, but he might claim those votes, or at least some of their big donors, especially if he runs the kind of dirty campaign I suspect he will.”
“Do you think Cat knows yet?”
“They’re still up in the air for another half hour.” Alex pulled out her phone and sent articles along with a few lengthy messages to Kara so that they’d get the news before some reporter asked about it and put a surprised Cat in the spotlight, leaving her looking uninformed. “God, so much for a quiet week.”
“Look, it’s not another scandal. It sucks, but he’ll be bound by the same kind of rules Cat is, which puts them on an even playing field.”
“Except it doesn’t,” Alex said bitterly. “He’s a white man without the burden of a scandal weighing on him already.”
“Let’s see how he does in Iowa before we panic.”
Kara yawned and rolled out her shoulders as she waited for her phone to restart while they stood away from the crowds beside the baggage claim carousel. Watching as little red notification numbers popped up, she was shocked to see dozens of texts and emails from campaign headquarters. She skimmed through them quickly, growing increasingly incredulous.
“Um, Cat?”
“We have a problem.”
“Did those emails leak?” Cat hissed.
“No! No, not that big of a problem—it’s just a new candidate.”
“Oh,” Cat let out a sigh of relief. “That’s fine. They’ll have already missed the first debate, so they’re coming in at a disadvantage.”
“Um, well, that’s the thing. He’s already well-funded…by Dirk.” She kept Alex’s profanity-riddled messages to herself, though she managed to find the confirmation that he was funding Max’s super PAC among the obscenities.
Cat’s eyes flashed up at Kara, and she swore she saw red. “Excuse me.”
“Max Lord is running for president now. He’s saying he didn’t want to, but he was persuaded to join because you had too much baggage now with the scandal and all.”
After a moment of two of stunned silence, Cat found herself laughing—a small chuckle at first that grew into something larger and almost uncontrollable. “I just…of course he is.”
“Are you okay?”
“Just swell, Kiera. My conniving ex-donor is funding a campaign for my ex-boyfriend to run against me for the role I’ve been preparing for my entire adult life.”
“Your ex-boyfriend?” Kara tamped down on the surge of jealousy she felt coursing through her veins. She tried to convince herself that it was just righteous indignation; Cat could clearly do better than Max. She ignored the small voice yelling that she would have been better for Cat by a landslide.
“We all make mistakes.”
“Well yours is going to be at the fundraising dinner in Des Moines this Thursday.”
“Let’s get out of the airport so we can talk freely, okay?”
“Fine,” Cat huffed.
After a strategy session in the hotel room with Kara, James, and Alex via Skype, Cat felt slightly better. Kara had spent the ride back reading through Max’s campaign website at a pace that had to have set some kind of world record and had already identified several weak points in the barebones policies he had laid out, while James focused on how they could adjust Cat’s public image to position her as the stronger candidate not only opposite Justin but opposite Max now too, on the off chance that his campaign took off. And Alex had spent her time digging up as much dirt on Max as she could find, though Cat asked her to hold off on personal life research unless it became necessary. There was no doubt in her mind that Alex was already doing the research, but at least she could keep her hands clean for now.
“Ready to have some of that famous deep dish pizza you love so much?” Kara teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Can’t wait,” Cat deadpanned.
On the ride down to Gino’s East, Cat listened as Kara and Michael, the head of their Illinois headquarters, hit her with facts about how they’d been polling out there and what topics to talk about (as well as the ones to avoid). Kara held up the phone with James on speaker to contribute as well.
“The scandal hit, but it wasn’t as big of a story here as it was in other places,” Michael informed Cat. “At least in Chicago, you’re still polling ahead of Justin, who’s kept his second-place standing.”
“And Chicago is already a deep blue pocket in a pretty blue state,” Kara chimed in, “so you won’t have to worry too much.”
“I scheduled a photo op at the Chicago Southside NAACP offices,” James reminded Cat, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker.
“Make sure to hit home on your points about education, especially making sure public schools in low-income neighborhoods are receiving adequate funding.” Kara handed over a half-page of bullet points their team had put together with statistics about funding disparities between schools that catered to primarily white neighborhoods and others in communities populated by first- and second-generation immigrants and people of color.
Michael cut in again. “And talk about police oversight—make some of the points you made at the debate even stronger and clearer. Your meetings with Black Lives Matter coordinators went over well, but you can’t let a meeting be the only thing you do.” Cat nodded along. “I know you haven’t really gone on the attack yet outside of the debate, but Justin’s poor record on just about everything related to race is what’s keeping you above him here. It might not play as well outside of the city, but while you’re here, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to hit him on that a little.”
“Now that he’s made some statement about my record on women’s rights when he has absolutely no room to judge, I think it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Cat admitted.
“Plus, that fundraising dinner is when things start getting a bit more heated anyway.” Kara caught Cat’s expression of surprise, though she hid it quickly. If Cat expected her to be just as naïve as she was years ago about how these things worked, she had another thing coming.
“We’re just about here, ma’am,” Vasquez announced, slowing down the car. “Do you want me to do another lap around the block?”
“No, I’m ready.”
After one last moment of calm, Cat plastered a broad smile on her face just in time for Vasquez to pull open the door.
“Hello, Chicago!” she waved, feeling her smile grow more genuine at the sight of homemade “Grant for President” signs held aloft and local newspaper reporters lining the area outside Gino’s.
She signed a few posters and took a few softball interview questions on her way in, finally making it into the restaurant and taking a seat alongside a few of the members of the Chicago Board of Education who she’d arranged to meet with for lunch. They all smiled for more photos, then did a second round when their pizza was delivered.
“Is this your first time with deep dish pizza, Miss Grant?” a young reporter asked.
“It is,” Cat admitted. “But it already smells delicious!”
Cat reached out and accepted the offered plate, motioning for her dining companions to go ahead and get some as well. “And you know what? Can we order a second pizza for my campaign staff? They work so hard—they deserve some of this famous Chicago food too!”
“Well played,” Kara muttered, her voice barely a whisper in Cat’s ear.
Fighting back the surge of excitement at exactly how close Kara was, Cat nodded, then turned ever so slightly to her under the guise of asking what toppings they wanted. “Will I be mocked and memed if I eat this with a fork and knife?”
Stifling a giggle, Kara shook her head. “No, you’re fine.”
Once everyone at her table had a slice in front of them, Cat cut into hers and popped a bite into her mouth before giving some quote about how they might make a deep dish fan out of her yet. “I should bring my son here. You know how much food teenage boys eat. Maybe one of these could actually keep him full for more than an hour,” Cat joked, smiling at how well her comments seemed to be going over.
With the pleasantries out of the way, Cat turned back to the Board of Education members, who had brought with them a local principal and teacher who both joked about loving the chance to get away from the school cafeteria for lunch. While they ate, they talked about Cat’s platform, and she hit home hard on equitable funding and equal opportunities for all students. But then she turned the conversation over to them, asking what their experiences had been. “I can read all the articles and reports, but it’s never quite the same as getting to hear from the people who live it every day. So you tell me: what would help you?”
By the time they finished, Cat was fairly certain she could count on their support in the election, and Kara was already smiling at the great publicity they were getting from a photo James had taken of Cat laughing out loud, a half-eaten slice of pizza on the plate in front of her, looking every bit the part of the down-to-earth candidate invested in the needs of local communities.
Back in DC, Maggie strolled down the hallways, feeling the shift in mood from the weekend with good publicity rolling in. She’d been pleased to see Cat at the NAACP offices dropping in some of the quotes and figures she’d sent to Kara that morning. “Hey, Danvers,” she greeted with a little knock on the door.
Blinking rapidly as her eyes readjusted after looking at screens for hours on end, Alex managed a quick hello back.
“Need help with something?”
“No…just trying to get ahead of the new Lord campaign. Didn’t really expect another challenger this late in the game, especially a well-funded one.”
“Ugh, he’s such an ass.”
“He really is.”
“Oh, hey look! Something we agree on,” Maggie joked, actually earning a smile from Alex.
“Yeah, yeah. Is there something you needed?”
“I just wanted to say hey. See if you were still up for a run tomorrow morning. If you’ve got too much going on with Max, though, it’s totally fine. I get it.”
“No, I promise, if anything, this makes me want to run more. I mean, hitting things would be preferable, but running will do.”
“Sparring does tend to help more with that particular impulse,” Maggie conceded.
“You box?”
“A little. Did some wrestling back in high school after I moved.”
“One day I might just take you up on it if that’s an offer.”
“Yeah? Alright, Danvers. We’ll see what you’ve got.”
Alex laughed and shook her head. “Let’s see if you can even keep up on our run first. I’ll meet you at your place at 7—sound good?”
“Uh, sure. I can meet you somewhere if it’s easier.”
“Nah, it’s fine. It’ll be my warm up.”
“Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you then.”
After a moment’s indecision, Kara knocked lightly on the door to Cat’s hotel room.
“Yes?” Cat answered the door, her dress pants having been replaced by sweatpants, but her blazer and blouse still on.
“That’s a good look,” Kara teased. “Bet it would play well in the media.”
“Ah yes, just the message I want.” Cat rolled her eyes but opened the door further to allow Kara inside.
“I brought tea—thought you might want something warm after a long day out in the Chicago fall weather, which is kind of like DC deep winter…”
“Thank you.” After a pause, she added, “You really don’t need to keep doing these things.”
“Cat, it’s my job to make the campaign go well. And that means keeping you healthy and happy.”
Cat bit back any and all inappropriate comments about things that would make her happy—a long list that started with Dirk’s head on a silver platter and ended with a delightful blonde campaign manager in a less-than-professional situation.
“Ready for the drive to Davenport tomorrow?” Kara asked, curling a leg under herself as she settled down on the less uncomfortable looking of the two hotel chairs.
“Actually, I wanted to see what you thought of going to Iowa City first. It barely adds an hour to the drive.”
“Um, yeah, I guess. You need to be back in Davenport for your meeting with the manufacturing union reps tomorrow night, but I think otherwise things should be moveable. Maybe check with James first?”
Cat pulled out her phone and quickly sent a text to James confirming that things could be moved before turning back to Kara. “I know we’re doing a morning photo op at the Center on Halsted with some of the local LGBTQ groups, but I thought we might drop in for the Iowa City Coming Out Day events too.”
“Are you, uh, coming out? I mean—that’s great! And I certainly wouldn’t say no—not that it would be my choice. But, um, maybe we should check in with Alex and James to figure out how to word things in the wake of…you know, everything.”
“You’re rambling.” Kara stopped talking, quickly shutting her mouth and looking to Cat. “I’m not coming out. I’m a politician recognizing a community I have publically supported for many years. And it’s all well and good to do so in Chicago, but I thought it might have a bit more of an impact in a state that isn’t quite so blue, even if the town itself is a bit more progressive.”
“Oh,” Kara breathed out. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“I’m aware.”
Kara just rolled her eyes. “Let me get James on this—”
“No need. I think it’ll be better to have it be more of a surprise visit. It’ll seem less staged.”
“I suppose plenty of people will take pictures and post them anyway…”
“And if they don’t, I do employ a full staff of people who I assume can take a few basic photos while we’re there.”
“Right, yeah. So, should we get you some rainbow t-shirt? Glitter? Pride flags?”
“I think my planned suit will be just fine,” Cat replied, although she wasn’t able so suppress the fond smile. “I won’t stop you if you want to dress yourself in all sorts of gaudy, glittery rainbows, though.”
“It’s just a shame I left my Pride outfit back in DC.” Of course, there were more than a few ways she could go get it and be back in plenty of time, but it didn’t seem worth the risk.
“And what might this famous outfit involve?”
“Well, I do have lots of glitter and some rainbow temporary tattoos. Then I got this Wonder Woman crop top and…” Cat’s mind just about shorted out at the image, and she promptly lost track of the other things Kara was saying. Because now all she could picture was Kara Danvers and the abs she was fairly certain were hiding beneath those hideous cardigans and Loft blouses, maybe coated in glitter—an offense she might actually willingly excuse, given the right circumstances.
“Yes, well, I should really be heading to bed.”
“Oh, sorry! Lots to do tomorrow! I’ll see you in the morning.”
Cat quickly shut and locked the door behind Kara before changing the rest of the way into pajamas and groaning into the pillows. Eventually her sleeping pills managed to win out against the tempting images swirling through her imagination and the rush of blood that left her heart racing and her skin feeling heated to the touch.
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aion-rsa · a year ago
Strike: Lethal White Episode 4 Review: a Tangled Ending Saved by Cast Chemistry
This Strike: Lethal White review contains spoilers.
Put your hand up if the conclusion to Lethal White’s investigation left you nonplussed and the killer revelation felt by-the-by. Now put your other hand up if that’s basically fine because you couldn’t give a McVitie’s fig roll who murdered Jasper Chiswell, or why, or by what means. 
Finally, take both hands down, make loose fists and draw a scruffy Cornish beard on one and the face of an English rose on the other, then smoosh them together while making kissy noises. Until the Troubled Blood adaptation arrives, that’s as good as we’re going to get. 
There were plenty of high points in the Lethal White finale. There was the pained expression on Robin’s face as she watched Strike and Charlotte walk away while assuring her mum on the other end of the phone that yes, she’s left Matthew and that no, she’s not with anyone else. There was the longing look Strike gave Robin as they sat drinking whisky in the office after hours. There was Strike touching his mouth to catch the feel of Robin on his lips after that awkward hug-kiss. There was an arm around shoulders, a confession, a heart-felt compliment and a smile. There was a question about the future and the promise of curry and beer.
All of the above, thanks to the magnetic power of Tom Burke and Holliday Grainger, were a delight to watch. The tangled case however, with its two horse paintings, Zimbabwean gallows, beastly aristos, inheritance scheming and narrowboat stand-off? Whatever. It happened.
Given my druthers, the finale would have lost Henry Drummond, Jimmy Knight, Tegan the horse lady, the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker, and in its place given us a silent 20-minute cut of the scene where a pissed Strike gazes across the desk at Robin like she’s water in the desert. Admittedly, such a change to the format would have forced Strike to move to BBC Four before being immediately cancelled, so really, it’s for the best I’m not allowed to decide this stuff.
The people who do decide this stuff – screenwriter Tom Edge and director Sue Tully – did a good job condensing a long and complicated book plot into just four episodes. Whatever plot threads are left dangling from the case (what happened to Jimmy Knight and Flick? Is anybody investigating the disappearance of Suki from the children’s home? Where was Raff’s probation officer in all this?), Lethal White never lost sight of the characters’ emotions. In particular, one character’s emotions: this was Robin’s series through and through. She even got its last word, striding off purposefully into the London skyline to a song by The Verve. (Hear those lyrics, Robin? Yes, there’s love if you want it).
Read more
Strike: Lethal White Episode 3 Review – an Overstuffed Case and a Personal Breakthrough
By Louisa Mellor
Strike: Lethal White Episode 2 Review – I Love You’s and Historical Clues
By Louisa Mellor
Until the finale, Cormoran had been a closed book – a pity because, as that restaurant scene with Charlotte showed, Tom Burke is thrilling when Strike’s exercised about something. A tremendous amount of ‘YES, SON!’ energy is manufactured every time an expletive falls from his mouth. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t loved anyone since, the way you loved me,” begged Charlotte. “I haven’t,” said Strike, “Thank fuck for that. I’m off.” YES. SON. The moment he popped up on the boat to spark Raff out and call him a cowardly little fuck should be commemorated on a limited edition tea towel. 
Needs must mention the case (if you’re still scratching your head, the plot is untangled here). In summary: Billy’s strangled-to-death-little-girl turned out to be neither strangled-to-death nor a little girl. She was in fact little illegitimate Raff, being brutalised by his horrid bully of a step-brother, Freddie. As revenge for a lifetime of their father worshipping the ground Freddie walked on and cutting Raff out of his will, as well as a scheme to get his hands on what nobody else in the family had realised was a rare Stubbs painting worth £20 million, Raff killed Jasper. He didn’t act alone, but manipulated Kinvara into aiding and abetting as part of his long game to get the painting. Raff was also behind Geraint Winn and Jimmy Knight’s blackmail of his father, tipping them off about the illegal gallows export that stiffed the Knight boys of their £40 grand share. Top anti-capitalism, there, Jimmy.
On first watch, it all seemed to make about as much sense as it did to a drugged-up Billy. Very useful of Robin on the boat, wasn’t it, to provide that blow-by-blow summary so that anyone dozing at the back could keep up. (Speaking of the dozy, I was dead wrong about that cab driver prediction in episode three, but side note to casting directors: hire Annette Badland for proper roles!)
Billy’s vindication was satisfying and easy to invest in thanks to Joseph Quinn’s vulnerable performance. Poor Izzy’s lament on the fallen Chiswell men, however, was hard to feel anything much about – good riddance, love, you’re better off without them. The most touching case scene belonged to Robert Pugh as Geraint Winn, whose grief and torment over his daughter’s suicide was movingly conveyed. 
When it comes to satisfaction, nothing in the case could top Robin finally confiding in Strike after a year plus of the pair moving in awkward circles around each other. Thanks to Jimmy Knight’s vile threats, she could no longer hide her panic attacks, and the roadside heart-to-heart released the pressure valve that’s been tightening with every episode this year.
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Robin clearly felt the benefit and closed the series on a high. She’s dealing with her anxiety, free of “Matt the accountant who’s a bit of a prick” (his full title henceforth), and setting up the next case for the Strike Ellacott Detective Agency. As long as Burke and Grainger are at its centre, whatever comes next, we’ll be watching. 
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