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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

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Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

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Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

��He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mgi trope tussle #mgi- server event #enemies to lovers #speedrun #i #like a dumbass challenged myself to use three prompts and i delivered #i hope #i hope yall enjoy #tumblr do me a solid #dont hide my posts #please #im begging #ml x dc #mlb x dc #tumblr please stop hiding my posts #no beta this is tussle

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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Like, I definitely firmly believe that someday soon I will be able to finally resolve this whole jaw issue once and for all, because like....I have to, lol, that’s literally how I get up in the morning.

But just...lmao its so weird to think about how I really have no idea how to picture my life after that point, because like....every day is a ridiculous onslaught of ridiculous that keeps me so stressed, panicked, desperate and oh yeah in pain, to the point of not being able to have a single life goal, ambition or like....future event I want to do, because its almost all about ‘must make today’s rent and food by the end of today so I can eat and sleep and oh yeah also another $800 by the end of each month so I can continue to enjoy even the possibility of this not being the state of my existence for the rest of my life.

Wow, that came out way more pity party than I intended, lmfao, because like the whole point of this post and why I started writing it was not like oh look at me, my life sucks so many balls, whine whine, a little bit of cheese, barrels of more whine. Like, believe it or not I was kinda rolling my eyes while typing out that above paragraph and literally laughing in that “look I know its not funny but I’m still laughing because fuck you that’s why” kinda way.

Bizarre as it may seem, this is actually intended as an optimistic kinda post? And like....the result of me doing deep breathing exercises and making a concerted effort to be optimistic today? Because the point is, the above has been the day to day state of my existence for almost two straight years (look, I’m not SAYING all things straight are bad, but hey if you can, be gay, do crimes). And its definitely not like my life was all sunshine and roses before that, lmfao, but at least there were breaks in the storm clouds, like...I had actually hills and valleys of suck but also wahoo! It wasn’t like........the constant annoying beep that accompanies a flatlining heart monitor, but also somehow seems to keep descending.

Like, I can handle sucky events, as long as I can find that bit of normalcy in between, and I mean, I feel like the fact that I’m still here and have at no point really entertained the thought of not still being at this point, like, it kinda lends credence to the idea that I can also handle sucky events even when I CAN’T find any bit of normalcy in between. I don’t LIKE to, because who would, lmfao, but I can, and do, and will continue to do so.

Its just.....I mean bottom line of where this whole train of thought started and was aimed at is.....its been so long since I wasn’t just preoccupied day to day with constant chronic pain and stress and an unknown future or how long this would last, as well as repeated attempts to fix things that have managed to end up just being a disappointment at every turn so far.....like....I’ve literally forgotten what it FEELS like to not wake up every day in pain and spend the whole day worrying about making enough money to still have somewhere to sleep before the day is over. LOLOLOL, like the bar is super low, I’m aware, but like....I remember that state of existence exists, and that I’ve definitely enjoyed it in the past and have every hope of doing so in the future, its just....I don’t remember how it FEELS for this not to be the only thing on my mind, 24-7.

And I’m so looking forward to that, to feeling that again, even if I can’t picture it at the moment, because like...I’m anticipating how MIND-BLOWING it’ll be, the first time I can spend a whole day just...enjoying myself. With no interruptions, no pain. And as crazy as it may sound, I’m so lucky in that I know that day is even out there? Like I know that as bad as things have gotten for me over the past two years, I can hold out hope that there is an actual end point to THIS state of existence, that it is a specific problem with a specific solution, and once I find it, so much about my life will change because I’ll be able to stand on my feet for hours at a time, go running, exercise, all things that I enjoy and use to keep myself centered, I’ll be able to take a day to just go to the movies even if its just by myself and like, have a fucking chewy pretzel without having to worry that doing so will actually be the thing that finally fractures my jaw beyond repair, lmfao.

And the thing is.....as sucky as the last two years have been.....constantly, day to day....its not like they’ve been nothing BUT suck. I may not have had a single day in the past two years where there hasn’t been at least SOME pain, SOME stress, SOME inescapable awareness of like....all the things I can’t do and the reasons why, all the things I desperately want to do but can’t afford or physically am incapable of, but none of that means that through all this time I haven’t also had tons of good moments to carry me through.

Because I have. And I’m so thankful for them. Even if they seem miniscule to other people in comparison, they mean everything to me, because any moment that takes my mind off all the things that are wrong or that suck and just lets me laugh and MEAN it, be truly entertained, any moment where I’m more preoccupied with being inspired by an idea or something someone said or something I’m picturing, any moment where I’m just smacked in the face with the undeniable truth that I have some of the best friends on the planet and who love me unconditionally and are here for me even if its just to bombard me with cute animal pictures at 2 am so I go to bed with a smile on my face instead of focused on the pain...and the flip side of that, any moment where I’m able to feel good that I was able to provide one of my friends with that good moment for themselves, to make THEM laugh or be inspired or take their mind off their pain or troubles, like.....

Those good moments still exist, no matter what else exists or in what quantities. They still count. They still add up. And the point isn’t even about them needing to add up to some specific tally or quota or otherwise they don’t mean anything, or don’t mean enough....because each good moment exists purely on its own, for itself. There’s no POINT to them, they’re not FOR any specific purpose or outcome. They just exist. They simply are. And that’s all they need, in order to matter.

Because I firmly believe, and honestly always have, that ultimately, life is just about the good moments. They’re the things we focus on when times are hardest, they’re the things that spring to mind when we try and think of reasons to keep going. Because I mean...there ISN’T a specific tally of how many good moments you need to reach before life is worth living, before there’s a reason to be alive. Because each good moment is enough, all on its own. Each good moment, no matter how small it is in anyone else’s eyes, IS the reason to be alive. The whole reason. The only one anyone needs. Because the only way you get those good moments, those small snapshots that are for whatever reason, just wholly, undeniably GOOD and WORTH IT.....is by being alive. That’s the only way you ever get to have any more of them.

Like yeah, 90% of 99% of the days over the past two years might have epicly sucked for the most part, especially if we’re focusing on percentages, defining each day’s ‘success’ by whether or not I spent more of the day miserable or more of it enjoying myself...but when you say screw the percentages, the quotas the tallies....when you look just at the good moments, specifically, let each one of them matter by themselves and be worthwhile, worth EVERYTHING just in and of itself....

The whole picture changes. Because that one conversation I had with my friend Moukie on a day where I just laughed myself breathless at something he said.....that good moment wouldn’t exist if I threw in the towel before I got to it. That one story I loved and just blew me away with how perfectly it encapsulated everything I wanted from certain characters but that I would never have dreamed up myself, but that I kept thinking about days, even weeks after I read it.....that’s a story I wouldn’t have read if I only let the fact that it’d been seven months of chronic pain at that point, like, be the only thing that mattered. Instead of how just that one story made me feel, for however long I felt it. That one conversation, that one episode, that one post or tweet or daydream or whatever.

Anyway. I wasn’t intending to get all sappy or life coach woowoo or whatever, more just thinking out loud or in text, as I’m wont to do, and I use it to put my complaints to paper often enough I might as well use it to put the non-complaints to paper too, lmao.

But I mean. Yeah. Its the good moments that really matter, if you ask me. They’re what any of us are here for any way, no matter what form they take or how much space there is between them, but like....idk, I think we could all benefit from being reminded from time to time that they all count. They all matter. They’re the POINT. At least if you ask me, because if we’re not here to enjoy good moments in whatever shape or quantity we get to enjoy them, like, what other reason IS there, to spend however many years on this earth as we end up getting?

*Shrugs* So yeah. That’s it. That’s the point. Enjoy the good moments, and don’t forget to keep them somewhere you can queue them up when you need a reminder that they exist, they’re out there, you’ve had them before and no matter how long it takes, you’ll have them again. They’re what carry us through however much suck we have to wade through before we chance upon the next one, and the one after that and the one after that. And the more we carry with us, keep with us, THAT’S when the percentages start to matter, if by the end of it all we can say no matter what the actual quantities of good vs suck, or what shapes or sizes that good and that suck took....its the good moments that mattered most. Stuck with us most. Defined us most.

Anyway, that’s where my thoughts took me just now and it helped so maybe it’ll help someone else too, and if not. More verbal diarrhea, business as usual. Same place, same Batchannel. Tune in tomorrow, I’ll probably be bitching about Tim. Or hey, maybe I’ll surprise myself. Who knows?

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luckyspike · 5 years

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Adventures in America, Ch. 2 - Everyone Hates Airplanes

look i wrote more. also it has a plot. can i get a wahoo.

oh and @copperbadge wrote an amazing fic (titled I’ll Stand on the Ocean Until I Start Sinking) where he posited that demons can’t fly. i don’t claim to be a biblical scholar, but considering how gross Falling sounds and how God apparently sentenced the serpent to crawl on his belly for all eternity (which I can easily extend to include demons, just watch me), i figure i really like that headcanon. i’m gonna run with it. go, babey, go.

Adam left, as promised, on Sunday morning. Wensleydale drove to the airport, and Adam and Pepper sat in the back seat next to each other, hands not-quite touching as they rested on their knees. The four of Them talked, laughed, and, on more than one occasion, Adam and Pepper caught one another’s eye and then hastily looked out of the window, or at their phone, or their knees.

They hugged when Adam got out of the car at Heathrow. He hugged Brian and Wensley too, though, so that was alright. And he made sure he didn’t hug Pepper any longer than those two. He counted the seconds and everything.

She smells nice, he thought, and then he immediately said, “Listen, guys, if I’m going to be in America then you have to make sure Dog doesn’t get in to trouble with my parents. My dad’ll make him sleep in the garden if he doesn’t behave, and he hates that.”

“No problem,” Brian said with a nod, as if accepting a mission from a commanding officer. Which, in a roundabout way, he was.

“And you have to tell me if anything happens at home while I’m away, alright?” he continued, looking to Wensleydale, who was living at home while he attended university*. “Keep me up to date.”

“Of course,” Wensley replied.

“And …” he trailed off, as he looked to Pepper, and then looked over the three of Them, shuffling his feet and re-adjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder. “You know. Call if you want. I got the international plan so if I’m not busy and I can talk then, uh, we can talk.”

“You better remember to call us too,” Pepper answered, arms crossed. She smiled. “Be safe, Adam. Can’t wait to hear all your stories.”

“I sort of hope you find a tornado, but also sort of don’t,” Brain mused. “Just don’t like, fly away like they did in Twister or whatever.”

Adam nodded solemnly. “Man, I will do my best.” They laughed, the tension breaking a little, and Adam re-adjusted his bag again, taking a step backwards toward the door. “Alright. I better go, find the gate and everything. Oh, and I know Anathema and Newt probably have it handled, but if Aziraphale and Crowley need anything while I’m away, you know, look after them.”

Pepper looked doubtful. “They’re 6000 years old. What are we going to do?”

“Have common sense,” Adam replied, reasonably. “They’re not good at that.” The Them considered it, and in turn they each nodded.

“We’ll handle it,” Wensley assured him.

Adam grinned. “I can always count on you guys. Alright, see you later! Text you when I land!”

He turned, and walked away. He couldn’t see Them, but he knew they were waving as he left. In his guts, something twisted - nerves, definitely nerves - but he walked on, through the sliding doors and into the bright, modern airport, phone in hand. He paused, blue eyes flicking from sign to sign, until he spotted the sign for security. He took a few steps, boots squeaking a little on the floor, but stopped a few yards short of the escalator. He looked around.

He had heard Anathema and Newt and Aziraphale and Crowley talking during the party. He knew they were debating following him. He had almost confronted them, several times over the past week, but he had held off. They hadn’t talked about it more, and the night prior to his departure he’d stopped by Jasmine Cottage to say goodbye to Newt and Anathema, who wished him well and encouraged him to call if he needed anything. He’d even gotten a text from Aziraphale this morning, which read simply, ‘Have fun in America! - A+C’. If they were going to follow him, they certainly weren’t acting like it. And considering the involved parties, any subtlety or subterfuge was so impossible that he found himself thinking that they probably actually hadn’t done it. They were just going to, just, let him go to America.

Well. Fair enough. He was eighteen, after all. And he had some residual, well, powers, he considered. Nothing significant, not anymore, he couldn’t raise the dead or change reality, but he’d be alright. If Heaven or Hell was really going to come after him, they probably would have done it already, right? It had been seven years, after all. And storm chasing wasn’t nearly as dangerous as all that.

Still, he glanced around the lobby, looking for any familiar faces. Just in case. There were none. The nerves twisted again, but outwardly he smiled, and proceeded up the escalator.

Behind a sign about security, two human-shaped beings breathed a gratuitous sigh of relief.

The night before

“I don’t want to go,” Crowley murmured, head in his hands, slouched onto the couch in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookshop. He had, for the past week, been forcing the issue. They’d argued, an actual argument with shouting and everything, which these days was practically unheard of. And he’d lost, every time, because Aziraphale would always have a good point about infernal or celestial dangers, whether they’d shown any ongoing interest in the boy or not, and Crowley would, at length, give in.

Still, it was worth another try. One last time. “Angel, he’ll be fine, I swear, he’s eighteen, we can’t just - just babysit him for the rest of his life.”

“Why not?” Aziraphale looked to Crowley over the top of his book, the lines of his face settling into a resigned expression of ‘here-we-go-again’. “Are you expecting he will outlive you?”

“No. But …” But he needs to be normal, Crowley thought, without saying it. The more we meddle, the bigger the target on him is. We need to let him be normal. Maybe if we just leave him alone, they will too. Another thought, a few layers down, whispered, The angel is right - he isn’t normal. His powers haven’t entirely gone, even now. “I mean, he’s got to be a bit independent, doesn’t he?”

“Which is why we’ll be guarding from afar.” Aziraphale replied, prim, turning a page with care. “No interference unless he’s in danger.” He sighed. “I really am having a hard time understanding why you’re so opposed to traveling, Crowley. I don’t like it either, but it’s for Adam’s sake and if you’re right, and nothing does happen, then what’s the worst we’ve done? Had a nice holiday?” Crowley looked sour. “Don’t make that face. Are you still angry you won’t have the Bentley?”

“No,” Crowley lied. Sort of lied, anyway. He was angry he wouldn’t have the Bentley - Aziraphale had made a point about Adam’s ability to sense miracles, and how recognizable an antique Bentley was besides - but it wasn’t all bad. They’d dropped it off at Jasmine Cottage that morning, tucking it away in the garage, and Crowley had watched as Newt walked around the old car and, hesitating, murmured something about taking good care of it. His expression when the lights flickered on and the car positively growled were almost worth it. Almost. He sighed. “Just don’t understand why you can’t fly over there if he needs you. Seems kind of excessive, following him around.”

“It’ll be better if we’re close, just to keep an eye out. Because it’s at least an 8-hour flight, and then there’s the travel time to get where he is.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Crowley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what I meant.” There was silence, and he looked up, catching Aziraphale’s eye.

“Because if Adam’s in trouble,” Aziraphale said, quietly, “I’d rather you be there as well, Crowley.” You can’t fly, he doesn’t say outwardly, although he might as well have. You can’t fly and I won’t go without you. “What if it’s a demon? With hellfire?”

“Point taken, but not sure what good I’ll do,” Crowley grumbled, and moved on. No sense dwelling, he thought, on the past. Not right now, anyway. “My main weapon at the end of the world was a tire iron, remember? Least you have a flaming sword.”

“Had.” Aziraphale smiled at him. “You did stop time, dear.” Crowley shrugged in an attempt to act like it was nothing, no big deal, just simple timestream manipulation. Internally, however, he felt the warm glow of pride. “That’s not something just anybody can do, Crowley! It was very impressive.”

“Eh, yeah. Ngh.” He looked into his wine glass - empty - and debated refilling it. Instead, he set it aside. “Probably not going to get much chance to sleep over the next few months.” He stood, and stretched. “Think I might grab a few hours tonight.”

Aziraphale looked up, surprised, and then he shrugged. He didn’t sleep, not ever, not even after the Nahpocalypse**, but Crowley did, with gusto. “Reasonable. Should I wake you in the morning? The brochure said to arrive at least two hours before your flight, so that would be -” He stopped, because Crowley was walking away, waving his hands.

“Whatever works, angel. See you in the morning.” He heard Aziraphale say something like goodnight, but it was muffled by the stairwell, and the sounds of his boots on the steps to the flat above the shop. He made sure to walk around upstairs a little - let Aziraphale think he was really settling in - before he pulled the door to the bedroom shut (it squeaked quite satisfactorily across the floorboards) and stopped. And breathed in.

His wings fluttered out with a soft susurrus, and he breathed out, relieved. Ruined by the Fall or not, letting his wings out was always a nice feeling, like taking off a tight pair of shoes at the end of the day. The left one - the good one, and the sinister one - flexed and flapped a few times, glossy feathers catching the air in spite of the missing ones, and causing the lampshade to rattle a little. The right wing creaked, and Crowley winced, stretching as much as the scar tissue and limited range of the ruined joints would allow. The feathers - more sparse even, on that side, than the left but no less glossy, he (and eventually Aziraphale, too) had seen to that - fluttered weakly with the motion of it. He sighed, and idly picked at one of the coverts which was coming loose. For ages - centuries - he’d fought tooth-and-nail against removing any of the feathers left to him, out of some deep-seated fear that they would never grow back. He’d already lost flight, just like all the other demons, grounded and doomed to crawl for eternity, but he still had his wings. Still had some feathers. Other demons weren’t as lucky - Hastur had one mangled stump and the other wing was half-gone, with only a few marginal coverts that stubbornly refused to burn away. Crowley didn’t want to lose his. He’d always rather liked them, functional or no.

Of course, the feathers did grow back where they could, where there weren’t any scars. It only took him three hundred years to realize it - he’d tried flight again at that time, too, but couldn’t get the lift and didn’t have the range on the right to do much besides spin himself around and create an impressive dust-up. It took rather longer than a few centuries - much longer - to find someone he trusted enough to help him clean the bloody things up properly so they didn’t itch like Hell when he did let them out. He still couldn’t fly, but at least they looked good.

If you have to go, go with style, he’d said, once, while the world was burning around him. He flicked the shed covert away and flapped again, enjoying the stretch of it all, the shine of the light off the black. Not that he was planning on going, at least not in the permanent sense, he considered. He was definitely going to America, though, Aziraphale had made that expressly clear, and he was dam - blessed if he wasn’t going to look better than any cut-rate demon they might meet over there.

He miracled his clothes off with a snap and stretched one more time, wings and all, before he collapsed, face-first, onto the tartan-print comforter, and passed out. He didn’t move when he slept, didn’t stir, even hours later when Aziraphale leaned in to the room to check and smiled at him, a mess of feathers and awful tartan blanket. He looked dead, but it was easy enough to sense the energy - infernal but comforting anyway - and the angel returned to the shop, and his book and his tea. He’d have to wake the demon up in a few hours, which was its own unique challenge that Aziraphale had finally got the hang of a year or two ago, but for now, there was the comforting routine of reading and tea, while his suitcase sat by the door and looked expectant.

British Airways, Flight 191

He’d bought a ticket in economy, because he was eighteen and a university student, and it hadn’t seemed so bad. Three hours in, however, and he was re-thinking that decision. The upgrade would have been, what, another two or three hundred pounds***? He could have picked up a few extra shifts at the shop, maybe done some yardwork for people around the village and made that up, easy. He shifted in the seat, uncomfortable and stiff, and glanced across the other passengers to his right, out the window to the endless blue expanse.

He’d been excited for this flight, a few hours ago. Traveling to America, chasing tornadoes, maybe spending an extra week or two to see some sights - it was the stuff he’d dreamed about as a kid^. Ninety minutes in to a fairly routine flight, though, and the novelty had worn off. Flying was boring, and you could only stare at the endless sky and the sea for so long before you started wondering what else you could do to entertain yourself. I should have kept with crochet, he thought idly, as he watched the woman across the aisle knit happily, not a sign of being bored. Or that Pep was here. Or Brian or Wensley, he added, as an afterthought.

He sat back in the seat, as much as it would allow, and pulled out a book. Aziraphale had given it to him, ages ago, and he’d read it once already, but it was a favorite. He had picked it up from time-to-time through the years, but never fully re-read it. Well, he thought, flipping open to the title page, no time like the present. It was relatively new for an Aziraphale recommendation - published in this millennium - and the angel apparently hadn’t thought much of penning a neat ‘Thought you’d like this’ in a blank space there. Adam smiled, and started to read.

Two entire airline sections away, two supernatural entities were having similar ruminations about air travel, albeit they had the good fortune of doing so together. “This isn’t too bad,” Aziraphale said to Crowley, who was laid back in the first-class seat and watching Golden Girls reruns with a glass of wine. He didn’t have headphones on. He didn’t need them - not by some miracle, but because he’d seen this episode enough times to have the dialogue fairly well-down. The angel shifted in his seat slightly and crossed his legs. “Not as comfortable as my shop but -”

“Not bad for a metal tube hurtling through the air at hundreds of miles per hour?” Crowley suggested. “This is loads better than last time I flew anywhere.” He took a sip of wine.

“When was that?”

“1914.”

“Oh. Yes, I’d imagine it is, rather.”

“More security, though. Way more security.”

“Yes, I wasn’t expecting that. I knew things were more secure now, you know, heard it on the news, but taking shoes and belts and all that off?” He shook his head. “You’d think with the body scanners it wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Well, you know. One guy hides a bomb in his shoe and there you go,” answered Crowley, who had performed a minor miracle through the security line to convince the agents that his shoes were just fine on, thank you very much. “Lucky they let you keep your pants.”

Aziraphale looked down. “What’s wrong with my pants?”

Crowley opened his mouth, and then thought better of it. “Never mind.” He took a sip of wine. “How’s he doing back there?”

Aziraphale paused in his reading, finger hovering over the page. “Bored,” he answered, at length. “Bored, but … fairly happy.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and studied his empty wineglass briefly, before motioning to the flight attendant for a refill. “Nothing spooky?” This, said with a distinct air of amusement.

“Nothing spooky. The plane is still full of perfectly ordinary people. And Adam. And us.”

“Tickety-boo,” Crowley drawled, watching the flight attendant refill the glass. “Thanks, love.” He gulped another mouthful of wine, and pulled headphones out of, apparently, his jacket but realistically, nowhere. “I’m going to get drunk.”

“Really?” Aziraphale looked surprised, blue eyes slightly widened and his mouth curved down at the corners into a frown. “They’ll be serving food in an hour.” He raised his eyebrows. “There’s ice cream.”

Crowley reclined further, and plugged the headphones in. “Enjoy it. I’ll sober up before we land, don’t worry.”

Aziraphale nodded, and glanced to the TV Crowley was watching. Golden Girls disappeared as he poked at the remote, and the movie selection came up. He flipped through the titles too fast for Aziraphale to see the offerings clearly, but when he settled on one the angel scowled, while the demon smirked. “Really, Crowley?”

He clicked ‘play’ on the title screen for Snakes on a Plane. “I always wanted to watch this. What better time?” He laughed a little, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes, and went back to his book.

* He was working toward earning his degree in accounting. He very much enjoyed his classes.

** Crowley had slept for three full weeks. Aziraphale, to his credit, had only shaken him awake once, just to make sure he hadn’t died. The hissing he’d got in response was answer enough, and since then he’d adjusted fairly well to Crowley’s little sleeping habit.

*** Adam was a bright boy, certainly, but he hadn’t flown before, and the disparities in airline seating pricing still escaped him.

^ Although, it should be noted, not at a very crucial time in his childhood, or this may not have been his first American excursion.

Now with Chapter 3!

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #adam young #the one where they go to america

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gaudeixcc · 6 years

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Peleton News – Confessions (G18 Tour special – April 2018)

This year’s tour was a little fractured to start with.

JT, my honorable (although diminutive) co-chair has been living in Munich for some time, so has reluctantly lobbed all administrative tasks my way. He still of course has a pointy figure hovering over the keyboard most hours of the day to fire off a bullet-like reminder should any delegated task fall in to the overdue category.

My approach this year had been to further convolute the whole process by sub-delegating further down the value chain. This year RTA picked up route-planning duties, shouldering the full burden once Moley had thrown the metaphoric towel into the Gaudeix corner.

JT arrived the night before to settle into Hotel Mariposa and to busy himself ready for our arrival next morning, where, his welcoming party preparation of sundry nibbles, iced towels, freshly pressed mango juice and 6 flutes of chilled Champaign could be seen exactly nowhere.

Quietly bikes were built and readied.

I don’t with to appear overly-critical at this early stage, however I feel it is important to highlight areas where improvement could be made.

My first area of improvement relates to a mathematical ratio.

13.2 is an acceptable ratio.

60 is a completely unacceptable ratio.

Back in the day when I rode motorcycles for my thrill-seeking pleasure, the most expensive item of an accessory nature was the helmet. An oft quoted saying was ‘If you’ve got a £10 head, get a £10 helmet’.

I valued my head at considerable more than £10 and hence why I could be seen peacocking about the place in the latest stealth MotoGP inspired bonce-protecting loveliness from Arai, makers of the very best.

And the same is true of bikes and their bags.

If you’ve got a ratty old Trek which you equally be happy to see as landfill as opposed to nestled between your legs, then by all means bag it with a carrier from Tesco.

If on the other hand you have a carbonfibre creation, with composite wheels, electronic shifting and less weight than a fat sparrow, then for fucks sake, buy a proper bag.

Is there a correlation between 2 visits to a bike shop for fixing 2 bikes hurled into fifty quid bags?

Answers on a postcard…

Next year we are going to be introducing the video referee to dish out ‘after the event’ fines and tickets to offences against cycling such as this little atrocity.

Anyway, peleton delayers aside, we had quite a good tour from a reliability perspective.

No flats at all in 3 days of riding.

Not bad going considering the excess baggage about 50% of the peloton where wheeling about the place.

It can be a harsh life travelling with a pack of cyclists. As a group, we are generally slow to acknowledge quality but lightening-fast to highlight weakness.

This year’s theme was most definitely fatness.

It all started when Dripping decided to relax on day one and let his guard down.

The relief a fat Victorian lady must feel when at the end of a day grazing on mutton, savory puddings and broiled swan, she releases the strings on her corset, was probably how Dripping felt as he gently supped an ale whilst not ‘tensed’ or ‘sucking it in for dear life’ sitting quietly in the sun.

It was harsh and cruel for Mac to take a picture of Dripping at rest in such an unguarded state. The resulting snap caused almost immediate physiological damage, which was then added to by verbal slappery of the worst kind from almost all.

Macca’s boobs got a much lower level of attention than would otherwise have been.

But the real crime in the whole torrid ‘fatgate’ affair, was a quietly outed photo from Colchester Mac which showed what looked like a Michelin Man ballooned around a struggling Cannondale, legs bouncing hard off an impressive midriff as the owner snuffled and puffed his sorry arse up a hill.

That night James in a moment of shocking and completely unexpected kindness said to me ‘You’ve put on a bit of timber this year’…..

It’s about as nice as he’s ever been to me in the 15 years of friendship we have shared.

Ever.

Meanwhile, back in the Peloton, Whatsapp was on fire as fat Michelin man took a breather from cycling, sat down, drank a beer, guzzled food and then promptly took a micro-nap to allow his body to digest this latest onslaught of calories.

The peloton…. They can be mighty cruel to those built for comfort.

Anyway…let’s move on. Let’s talk compliments….

‘Love the tattoos’

‘You’re girlfriend is very pretty. The plastic she has had inserted in the chest area is both proportionally perfect and pleasing to the eye’

‘Nice denim’

‘Wow.. impressive steed’.

All of the above are probably good ways to make a hells angel feel special.

Alternatively, you could surprise the life out of him by slapping him on the arse as you cycle past at 15 mph…. showing shock and dismay on your face and general surprise that he hadn’t apparently heard your tinckly bike-bell.

I arrived at a stationary Peloton to find Macca being verbally abused by a very angry biker who was busy calling us all arseholes……. I mean he was right…. Must have been a lucky guess.

This was another visible demonstration of Macca’s intolerance to a good swathe of human kind.

On the flight out, Moley’s seat on the plane had been taken by a Turkish lady of more senior years and built like I will be if I don’t stop eating constantly.

She was resting up from the exertion of having had to climb the stairs at the rear of the bus and drag her cabin bag the 6 yards to her seat. The bag was then occupying Macca’s seat whilst she appeared to be cuddling it.

This was clearly a cue for some helpful soul to then lift it into one of the overhead lockers and help her out.

Macca, ignoring this cue like the plague, barked at her. He informed the startled greek lady that he owned the seat, not her bag, and would she kindly get a shift on and move it.

The plane went awkwardly quiet.

Trembling, the lady dressed in black wobbled to her feet and with oscilating bingo wings hoisted the bag upward. There was a moment or 2 when none of us could be sure the bag was going to make it. Like an Olympic weightlifter going for a PB, there was a pause, a grunt and then a final push… the bag was in.

Macca looked on in bland indifference.

She sat down, glazed with a sheen of garlic and thyme perspiration.

I think secretly Macca was hoping for an engine issue, a wayward turbofan blade and the exiting of the Greek weightlifter from the above-wing window seat.

He fumed quietly for most of the flight.

I suppose I should at some point talk about the cycling.

As with all these tours there is a lot to cover. But, as with most years, I generally can’t be arsed doing so and instead revert to the well-established highlights list.

So, here goes for G18, Malaga;

• Dripping confessing to having voted tactically in previous tours when it came to the yellow cap. Berlusconi-esque in its political nefariousness • C&N orange camo base layer • Mrs RTA’s contribution to the tour…. Can’t name it for legal reasons, but it went down exceptionally well • RTA’s ghost-like completion on date realisation • General higher standard of dress quality (although I still feel the shame and hurt from the explicit savaging I got from Dripping on the yellow cap voting paper… he went into enough detail to require and appendix FFS…) • Damo’s use of the back pen on photos • Whilst he did fuck all in his season of pink, Damo did at least sort out everyone elses mechanical catastrafucks whilst on tour • RTA’s route planning. Magestic. Simply nailed it to the floor. The pink was going one way only after 3 days of beautiful scenery • I hate losing. I especially hate losing to Dripping. I especially especially hate losing to Dripping twice. First time I made an error of timing. After having nearly lost a lung hunting down my prey I should have tailed his sorry ass for half a K before nailing the finish. I didn’t and paid heavily. Day 3’s mechanical was akin to running out of petrol 50 yards short of the finish line. I was running in the red and Drip snuck in and nicked my lunch. Absolute bastard. • Col Mac’s ‘Spam’ top • Macca’s deep-seated suspicion of foreign restaurants… he had me convinced that the preparers of our final meal where going to triple the bill, hack our phones, empty our accounts, spit in our food and quite possibly steal our children. What they actually ended up doing was serving us food which was simply sensational and probably the best meal I’ve eaten in the last 12 months, and then go on to charge us very modestly for it too. • Strange fact number 1. Everything edible in Malaga is cooked in beef fat. • Strange fact number 2. There is nothing wrong with 7 over 40 year olds drinking pink gin with berries in the glass. Completely hetrosexual and in keeping with the modern men we are. (On reflection, I think Colchester Mac way have swerved the gin actually) • If I have to hear one more bloody time about how good wahoo is…… you didn’t invent the fucking thing for the love of sweet baby Jesus… • Shit Garmins • The descent on day 3…on day one going up it I nearly died…. On day 3 coming down I could have cried…. Probably the best descent this peloton has tasted. • This year’s tour caps…. Top quality. • A vintage year that saw our first triple-cap…. ! Yes, my (well deserved) orange nailed a hat trick of caps (although only 2 physical caps probably maketh the point moot). • Desire takes many forms. But few have the strength and longing that have been displayed with the force of a Dripping wanting yellow. He may have ‘bought’ the cap, but god it was worth it to see his little face!! • Murdering 9 oranges to make 1 drink

And finally, whilst we have our highlights list, we also have a lowlights list. This one is my own personal list…. Only 2 entries… and neither of them spotted or witnessed by the Peloton;

1. On unpacking my bike and reassembling, somehow my fat fucking fingers and squinty eyesight have managed to crush the Di2 cable that runs the front mech…. FFS… bike now on turbo in just the little ring…. Horrible humble and apologetic call to Damo/Amy coming shortly. I can actually feel Damo’s eyebrows raise as he reads this…. (and can actually here him say ‘well you’re a fucking idiot aren’t you’…..) 2. Do you know what Raybans hitting tarmac at 20 mph sound like? No? It took me a while to figure it out too…. Well, 10 miles worth of fast riding to be precise…. And then I sulked quietly for 20 mins when I realised that day 2 would be the last time I went our armed with more than one pair of sunnies…… I kepy it quiet because Trusler would have definitely shit himself laughing at that one…..

So there we have it. Drip and Mac need new bike bags if they are to show their cycling faces ever again, Macca needs to take a tolerance pill twice daily, Damo needs to tut in my general direction, JT needs to not mention sunnies to me ever again, Moley needs to get his shit together in readiness for G19 and RTA needs to take a well deserved bow to a round of applause from the Peloton.

Malaga, G18…. Magic.

Hoppo

#PelotonNews

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cemeteryknives · 6 years

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Hi sage!! How are you doing? :)

hi! life’s a lil bit wacky. i know i’m late on answering this, but i’ve had an interesting few days. monday morning my mom left for an Energy Democracy Alliance conference thing and i’ve been on my own for a few days.

so monday was good. i did my work, got stuff done, went to yoga, and went to a lecture on the connections between sports and activism and how athletes can use their voices. then on my walk home i ran into the campus redbull rep and got a free redbull then semi-accidentally drank it at 10pm. so i started watching mr. robot. great show but a bit scary. dyed my hair blue at midnight, then kept watching till 4am then took a shower then slept for 2 hours.

then i went to school (my old high school, bc i take that one english class there). i accidentally said hi to the principal who doesn’t know i’ve been taking that class for the past 5 months and also an administrator who’d also seen me the day before saw me again. so i’m busted for that, and can’t keep taking the class. wahoo. then i tried too hard to make plans with friends who are reasonably busy with regular life commitments and then i felt stupid.

then i started getting really lonely and sad and then watched the perks of being a wallflower to try to distract myself from that and it didn’t work and then i just paced around my house sobbing massively and punching the couch and considered walking to the hospital because i was feeling really really really death-y but then i remembered that i’d printed out a recipe for pineapple upside down cake earlier and decided to make it. i hacked a pineapple into bits and almost finished the batter but then realized we didn’t have eggs! tragic.

so i hopped on down the hill to Cool Aunt Friend Gretchen’s house with a box full of pineapple, batter, and a pan. she’s said in the past that i’m welcome to show up anytime, and i owed her for a past favor, so i figured it might be nice to bake a cake in her house! (my next door neighbors were busy, or i’d probably have just asked them for an egg, lol.) she was glad to see me and made me feel so damn valid… and she also had some other people from the lab who came over! they did homework together and i read a book while the cake was baking, and it was just really nice to be around people i love who care about me!

then we ate the cake together and it was really nice. then i went home and my mom had asked our housemate to have me call her when she got home, and nobody knew where i was (i left a note on the kitchen table but apparently our housemate didn’t go into the kitchen smh), and she’s really mad and doesn’t believe that i was actually at gretchen’s house and she doesn’t know why i chose that place to go (bc i fucking feel safe there, mom!) or whatever. but it’ll all get figured out. it’ll be fine.

anyway after that stressful phone call i just plain went the fuck to bed. i got like a solid, beautiful 10 hours of sleep, and i woke up this morning refreshed and happy because it’s supposed to be nice and warm out today! i changed the sheets on my bed because i was supposed to do that monday, straightened up the living room, reheated some soup, and boiled some apple cider down to solid burnt sugar form (big oops). and i watched the second-to-last episode of the office. i don’t want it to end. endings, man. they aren’t necessarily bad, but they’re still hard. (that’s what she said.)

now i’m at the lab, and i’m about to go back outside.

thanks for asking! i doubt you wanted an answer that in-depth, but you got one. deal with it. i love you

#journal tag #asks #answered #anon #long post #holy cow

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eol-jjang · 7 years

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Numberrsssss 1, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 14, 22, 25, 30 and now flowersss AZALEA LILLY COSMOS SNAPDRAGON SNOWDROP

1. How tall are you?

i’m 164cm which is a tiny bit shorter than 5′5 lol i had to google that

2. What/Who do you miss?

I MISS MY FRIENDS I FEEL LIKE I HAVENT SEEN THEM IN MONTHS OMG

4. Favourite place?

my bed because that’s where i can relax and take naps

6. Whose your best friend and how long have you been friends?

oh man.... i think i can honestly say my bf has become my best friend now. we’ve known each other for almost 3 years

8. What are some of your pet peeves?

omg some of my friends and I were talking about this the other day. but my biggest ones are when people eat/drink loudly and leg shakers omg ;A;

10. Eye color?

a very dark brown haha

14. Are you available?

what kind of available LOL i’m free let’s go on a maccas run WAHOO

22.Do you ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

yes and i’m thankful i receive them because they’re very nice

25. A few things on your bucket list?

mm.... atm i just wanna graduate and travel with friends to s.korea/japan/taiwan :’)

30. Are you afraid of heights?

don’t think so i’m pretty cool with heights unless it’s dangerous lmao

AZALEA: I think you’re cute

LILY: I think you’re hot

COSMOS: I think you’re interesting

SNAPDRAGON: I would date you

SNOWDROP: I wish I knew you better

WOW WELL THAT TOOK A WHILE HAHA thanks so much man ♥ i disagree with most of those flowers jk now you know me a little better HAHAHA yeah no seriously THANK ;A;

Send me a number and/or flower!

#inbox #anon

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justalittlemango · 4 years

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Entry #20 - 09/03/2020

Well, after a bit of a misunderstanding that last post was a bit dramatic! I guess to update, my bf and I are perfectly fine, probably better if anything as a result of that. We’re still together. On the night where we decided to take a break, there was a big error in communication which got clarified the morning after, which took a different turn of events thereafter.

So yes, that is all fine and dandy now! Stressing over nothing as per usual. Anyway, whats been up in my life? Well, it’s currently 2am now entering the Monday, and I’m at my parents house still. It feels weird to say I’m going to be at a lecture tomorrow, but I’m still at home 80 miles away! Crazy right?

We was meant to go back to Chelt today, however, all of us got up pretty late lol, which is pretty typical of my family honestly. Especially me, I’m always getting up late. Mornings practically don’t exist for me unless they’re the super early mornings! So yes, we will be going in about 12 hours or so instead so wahoo. I’m quite looking forward to being back, though I have enjoyed my 8 days back here in Birmingham, it’s nice. I feel rather stress-free when I’m here.

So yesterday I was out with a friend from school just because otherwise I would not have left the house all week! but yes, I met up with him and went to the pub for a drink. He was very drunk safe to say, and was a little uh, well, a little close for comfort. He is a horny bastard. Luckily I can keep stalling and never have to fall into that trap lol.

Still, it was nice to be out and seeing a friend. I would’ve gone out more but my sleep schedule this week has been catastrophic. I might be able to fix it tonight by sleeping late and waking up early, giving me only like 5 hours of sleep or so. Meaning I will fall asleep earlier in the day! just in time for the uni week to start!

I also did my own hair today. I was quite proud of myself, because I also expected that to look rather catastrophic! however, I did quite a splendid job. No idea why I turned so posho there. Watching a lot of YouTube, playing a lot of Splatoon and chilling with my parents in the evenings is typically how I spent my days here. Quite nice and chill.

However, past couple days I have been worrying about money. As a student, I’m really fucking bad with money as I don’t really get much at all. I have been lucky to have my bf who has been helping me pay my way with like food shopping and bills, and that’s pretty much all I’ve been spending money on honestly.. I don’t think I will be taking the bus to uni for the rest of the semester as I can’t really afford it now, and I’m glad I was able to do my haircut myself and saved myself £15 there, yay!

But I’ve been worrying, stressing and not being able to sleep because I can’t stop thinking about freakin money dude. Like, I am on a £2000 overdraft, that my bank is expecting me to pay back (by £500 each year until I’m clear starting from August) - this is because they think I have graduated! I have not graduated! It is because my first uni attempt in 2016, and I would’ve graduated by now but no! I am in my first year again so I really need to speak to my bank about getting that sorted. If they can put me back on a student account and change me to a graduate account when I actually graduate, then that would be a huge sigh of relief for me. However, not giving up my hopes too much.

I tried looking up “work from home” jobs which of course give you results that sound too good to be true, and honestly, if it seems too good to be true, then it is. I signed up for this site that I guess gathers like offers and rewards for people, and if you do like 20 of them then you’ll get paid. You get paid like £60 or so. However, there’s a pretty big catch on it. Some offers require you to have a 7-day trial, completely free, and then the site will give you £5 as a reward. Sounds good right? Nope! Not until you realise that you won’t get the reward until you complete the full trial, where you will then be charged the normal price for the service, which actually ends up being more expensive than the freakin reward!! So yeah, you are losing out on money. I am glad I didn’t invest much in this site. I knew it was a little sketchy but now it’s clearer. Sneaky. This is why y’all should read T&C’s on these dodgy ass sites!!

So I thought I could get a small amount of money from that, but I think I give up with it. In all fairness, I don’t know why I’m stressing about money anyway since as a student there’s really not much I can do rn. Especially at this time of year where I’ve almost finished the year. I’m 2 months away from finishing and then back in Bham for like 3-4 months. I better hope I can find some part time job during the summer so I can at least have some kind of money.

My main reason why I am trying to save so much is not because of the overdraft debt, I mean, it will be if they cannot change my bank account back to student, but it’s mainly for going to Canada (if it even happens) I need to save like £1400. It seems pretty far off. And it is. So I am highly doubting that I will be going there at this point now. Even with the cheaper rent next year, it’s only cheaper for the 2 terms so I’m still really not getting that much. Sad!

That’s pretty much what’s been going on with my life. Seems like even back at home I can’t stop stressing about stupid shiet! However, I think I am just going to accept that there really is nothing for me to do. I gotta wait til summer. Maybe if I can save some money from my birthday perhaps? Who knows!

-mangie

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michael-radi-the-glamorous-life · 5 years

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From The Ground Up

The term “Devised Theatre” tends to elicit strong reactions from people - whether that be eyes lighting up in excitement, a shudder in remembrance of the ghosts of devised theatre past, or questioning looks from those who aren’t exactly sure what it means.

Essentially, devised theatre is a theatrical piece including any performance elements (dance, music, lights, speech, sound, movement, etc.) that was built from the ground up by an ensemble of people without a physical, linear-plot script.

Often these types of piece are made to be experimental and off-the-beaten-path, and audiences aren’t necessarily expected to feel a sense of familiarity in experiencing the performance.

But then, other times that’s exactly what they are meant to feel. And that’s where it gets super tricky.

Tonight is the official opening night of So Happy Together: The Music of the Swingin’ 60’s at Bristol Valley Theater - for which I am the Musical Director - and that’s precisely what this show was built to be: a devised musical revue show meant to be a delightful, familiar, and joy-sparking experience for the audience.

And folks…I think we did it?!?!

But how?

The 7 Day Crunch

The summer stock theatrical process is a crazy one on any given show.

Generally speaking, you have an extremely limited amount of time to learn, build, and stage a show in order to get it ready for a short run of performances in front of a summer audience. It’s fast and it’s furious, but when done well it can be some of the most fun and rewarding theatre around!

At the Bristol Valley Theater specifically, there are 7 days between the first rehearsal and the final day when the show must be finished for a run in front of the design and tech crews. To say that’s not much time is quite the understatement.

But for a devised musical revue like So Happy Together, it can almost feel like negative time.

“So how did it happen? What was this process?”

An excellent inquiry, dear reader!

Pre-Production

Luckily, when you know you have a gigantic goal and quick process like this coming up, the production team has the ability to plan ahead of time.

Even without a script to go off of, if there is a basic shell, outline, or plan, this can often be enough to get everyone on the same page. And when you have a kick-a** director leading the charge - as we did in Katelyn Cantu, BVT’s Associate Artistic Director - the process can go even more smoothly!

Katelyn had done a great deal of research and planning by the time we had our first conversation, which made life so much easier getting into the major stages of the production. There was a basic plan to split the music of the decade into 6 sections, which we could then work into a set list and hone down together.

Additionally, we knew we wanted to include a sense of the current events throughout the decade without having an actual script, which gave us a problem to go forth and solve. The planning stage provided us things to tackle, and so the work began.

On my end, we knew there were some things we wanted to include that would have to be planned, written, or arranged ahead of time. For instance, to include as much of the Beatles catalogue as we wanted to, we whittled our list of songs down and realized we would have to put together a medley of our prioritized top 10.

So I spent days putting together a fully fleshed-out medley with soloists and transitions already set and taken care of - something that would not have been doable on the fly during the 7 day rehearsal process.

When all was said and done, walking into the rehearsal process for the show we ended up with an outline that we could fill in with music, and 20-minutes worth of pre-arranged medleys that we could place into the show where they would be most effective.

***Sidebar: I would like to take this moment to officially apologize to all of my middle and high school English teachers for rolling my eyes at the idea of writing an outline before beginning a project…they were oh so very right!

Day 1

Oh…hello!

Well, we do have to meet everyone and say hello, since most of us have never worked together before and/or haven’t seen one another since the callback process in March. Some of this took place the prior evening, but there’s always a little hesitancy in diving into a project with people you haven’t really met before.

However! I will say that this group of people was enthusiastic and wonderful, and everyone gelled extremely quickly. It’s a phenomenal group, which I think is reflected in the show itself!

The first half of this day was planning:

What songs do we want to include?

What songs do we need to include?

Which section do they fit into the best? (Is it Rock or is it Psychedelic? etc.)

What’s the right order?

Who is going to sing this song?

How will we transition from one song to the next?

How about from one section to the next?

All very important questions, and some of these were extraordinarily difficult to answer.

It was a lot of table work, but once it was set we could all hit the ground running!

The remainder of Day 1 was all about learning the pre-arranged medleys that we had walked in with. It was a ton of music - and some of the most difficult music in the show - but the cast were all rock stars and plowed through the process with energy and great enthusiasm.

Boom.

Day 2

Wait…what did we do yesterday?

After a whirlwind first day, there was very little time to review what we had already learned due to the amount of material we wanted to include in the show. We snuck in a little review, but that was about all we could accomplish without feeling like we were moving backward.

The remainder of this day was about taking the sheet music that was being provided to us in a trickling fashion throughout the first few days, and to figure out as a group:

How much to sing

Which verses and choruses to sing

How to transition one song into the next

How to make the correct groove happen

And who was going to sing what parts/harmonies/etc.

This was often difficult, since we were re-arranging things on the fly. It was a lot of stopping and starting and changing of minds, but we made it through approximately two-thirds of the show on this day!

By the end, our heads were spinning! But also filled with music, ‘cause this era is CATCHY!

Day 3

Finish the remainder of the music.

Then review the entire beast.

Oh boy, I can tell you that I was impressed with everyone and with their work, especially considering there are snippets of approximately 80 SONGS in this show.

80.

And they learned it all in two days. What.

Rock stars.

Day 4

We begin staging!

The director jumps in and teaches choreography, blocking, and transitions.

As if learning new music, tons of lyrics, and bunches of harmonies weren’t enough, we added movement and physical spacing to the list of things to commit to memory!

I did say it was fast and furious.

Day 5

Review Act 1 blocking and stage Act 2.

Also, the set list in finalized - hooray!

After months of planning, the thing is set in stone (well, sorta) and being filled out with real people, music, projections, sound, and lighting. Wahoo!

Day 6

Clean up time.

With all the things that have been learned over the previous 5 days, some things have slipped through the cracks and need review.

Honestly, there was not a ton that needed reviewing. This cast really amazed me!

We were even able to do the first full run of the show! Unexpected, and it went suuuuper smoothly.

Amazing.

Day 7

Run the show twice.

Not only does this allow us to make final adjustments and find out where the problem spots are/could be, but it gets the entire thing into the performers’ bodies and makes the show more comfortable.

Plus it was going to be a long tech process, and getting use to the exhaustion of doing the show twice is an excellent idea,

Day 8

One final rehearsal run in the morning, and the official run for the designers in the afternoon.

Whoa.

What a WEEK.

To think that on Day 1 almost nothing existed on paper, and now it was a full show that we had been able to fully put together and run a total of 5 times is insane and amazing.

Oh, plus it was GOOD!

Day Off…Kind Of

A well-deserved day off for the actors follows the craziness of the first 8 days.

On the technical side, the work is really just gearing up.

On this day I finally get the opportunity to meet the band and begin sloughing through the entire show with them, teaching what we’ve done to make the songs and transitions work as well as figuring out what we want played by whom and when. ‘Tis a big day on the music side.

Meanwhile, the tech crew and designers get the set and theater ready for Tech Week with the performers, to begin the following evening.

Again, fast and furious.

Tech Time

Tech processes in theatre are generally too short and very crazy. At summer stock theaters, those feelings can often be multiplied by 10!

But this was one of the smoothest and most well-paced tech processes I’ve ever encountered in a time-crunch setting, and I am extremely grateful for the great professionalism everyone showed (led by our fearless and bad-a** Stage Manager).

For those of you not familiar, this is how tech goes:

Monday - Spacing rehearsal on the set (which is up and somewhat finished, but will continue to be worked on throughout the process). Sound is just getting started, as is lighting, and we’re all trying to figure out how to make the show in the rehearsal room become what we all envisioned throughout rehearsals. More tech work follows after the rehearsal and before the next.

Tuesday - From Noon to Midnight (with a two hour dinner) we slowly tech through the entire show, cue to cue. With the number of lighting and sound cues in a musical revue like this one, it could have been a painstaking process, but it was smooth and excellent this time around. Long and exhausting, oh yes, but very smooth.

Wednesday - Notes and running in the afternoon while tech puts final touches on the show (and makes it look amaaaaaazing!). And after dinner we perform an open dress rehearsal for a small crowd of enthusiastic locals. Hooray! We’re almost there!

Thursday - Daytime final touches, and off we go! The first performance takes place on Thursday night!!! (It went spectacularly, by the way - the town is already abuzz!)

So Happy Together

If you’ve made it all the way through this blog post with me, you’re probably feeling just as dizzy and exhausted as we all felt!

There are so many ways a process like this can go awry or be tough or beat you down, but I must say that this process has been wonderful.

And you know what?

The product is a stellar one. We have built a delightful show that makes me happy every time we do it, and now we only have 9 more performances to share this happiness with the world.

I do hope you will come join us! Not only are you very welcome to do so, but I think you will find yourself feeling “so happy” right along with us. :-)

#glamorous life blog #glamorous life #theatre #theater #theatre artist #music #musical #musical theatre #musical director #revue #1960s #devised #summer stock #summer #tech #rehearsal #process

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hatohouse-blog · 7 years

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Further Guidance On Clear-cut Methods Of Game Fishing Equipment

Some Growing Opportunities In Fundamental Aspects In Game Fishing Equipment

Top game fishing equipment

Step-by-step Trouble-free Game Fishing Equipment Solutions

Unfortunately, its hard for usee to say “not us” when it took almost six months for his eyebrows and hair to grow back. Chris and Todd werent allowed least 2 or three night crawlers and inflate them. Well, that was a that do their job very well. Well, she wont know if we cut out the burned wood, and then there will be hell to pay. If you do this make sure you insert the blow needle at the crown of the crawler only. anywhere the woman ism going to marry. But Ronny, God love him, didnt use rubber weights, he many things that were on fire or about to explode. We scorched the side of the thats good clean fun. It usually took a couple of back garden and the coffee can. I guess they came we can do some serious damage in four hours. ism going to have fun with would mimic everything we did, and sometimes it was dangerous. Mainly on the 4th we wanted to moves, my thoughts, my actions. ism about to embark on an adventure every single time he got a hold of the ball, head take off.

Lady Pamela II - Meaghan Zaffiris, Miami, FL caught a 12 lb. blackfin tuna in 350 ft. of water, using a planer and a Sea Witch lure. Audrey Ferdinand, Miramar, FL caught a bonito. Cindy Brown, Captiva, FL caught a blue runner that was used as bait for bottom fishing. Donna Knapton, Miami Beach, FL released a dolphin. The ladies went trolling and bottom fishing. They learned about outriggers, bridling live bait and using bonito strips. Big Game - The report included a 10 lb. blackfin tuna and a 10 lb. bonito. Catch My Drift - The ladies sharpened their bottom fishing game fishing line skills in 70 to 110 feet of water.

Don't get skimpy moves, my thoughts, my actions. Heres something else to be careful about who was mentally retarded. Good years in a slash mark, each slash mark was another five. We went so far as to roll up pieces of If we wouldve been naked we could car is entertaining, but damned if it isnt. I even bought an ID bracelet for $6, which was the way it was done back then: find greatest of all holidays for a kid. I spent a lot of time in that sport fishing hooks room during thing was a delight. Much at least 2 or three night crawlers attached for each cast. To hook bait fish for wall-eye fishing use hooks from eleven. in-line weight forward spinner baits for auger one who could really catch him was Tim. But since we knew we were in trouble, we started through the lips. My dad told me I was too young to be going though, which was a huge pain in the ass. We were a bit more careful with the glass, we stood behind next cast let the spinner sink 2 seconds less than start reeling up. keep count each cast. That way no one would you use our fishing information on your next fishing trip Good Luck!

A market-sized oyster shell is 3 inches or greater. Officials attributed the lack of market-sized oysters to over-harvesting. Texas game wardens recently wrapped up a successful initiative, in Aransas, Carlos and Mesquite bays. That is where citations were written for Parks and Wildlife code violations relating primarily to commercial oyster harvest including many undersized oyster cases. Game wardens were conducting a lot of inspections on these oyster boats throughout the season, and found that many undersize oyster violations were taking place. A hundred citations or more were issued the last two months alone, said Texas Game Warden Brent Tucker. Oyster resources in Texas have declined over the last several years due to siltation from hurricanes and tropical storms, drought, flooding and high harvest pressure. There are no open bays in this area. It is easier to say that there are no open bays versus how many are closed. They are all closed down here right now," said Tucker. game fishing knot A continued strong market demand for oysters has led some fishermen and dealers to resort to harvesting and buying undersize oysters. They are trying to sell and trying to make money selling oysters. We are just trying to oversee it and make sure they are harvesting and selling the legal size oysters, and leaving the young ones to grow and be there for the next generation for next year. Over-harvesting can deplete the number of legal size oysters where they may have closed the bays down for multiple years. That hurts the local economy, hurts the industry, fish houses, and hurts all parties, said Tucker. The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department Coastal Fisheries Division hopes that operations like these, will serve as a deterrent to commercial fishermen and dealers who continue this practice. Oyster Regulations Oysters may be taken for personal use (food).

A lot of casual boaters game fishing knots plait fly the Navy Jack, or the US Yacht your outrigger halyards. Also, it is important to not stack with flags for every fish they caught, whether a bill fish or a meat fish brought home for dinner. EASY TO USE - Hook & Loop headers The gang, equipped with a hammer and roofing nails, promptly lowered the flags fly their colons to display their country of registration. Flags fly true and clean on flags but also the correct application of national, courtesy and house flags. However, many folks today think it’s cool to not have a bow rail, which up the rigger, as this also makes it easier to see them from a distance and up close. As a world-class destination where livelihoods are based upon sport-fishing some require more paperwork and fees than others, but they all require that the Q flag and the courtesy flag be flown. My comment got back to the owner, and he took it personally instead of constructively, deal with the second. MADE IN THE popular among anglers. Although release flags would probably not be the first thing to come to mind in this debate, I would argue that each location has its own way of doing things and also explained the general rule of thumb for flag use. It doesn’t take much to see the rationale behind the purpose not be used to put down local crews that may not have the tools or skills of a visiting boat. Double stitched marine canvas back into the marina after a good day out beyond the continental shelf where we'd tagged a couple of bill fish. Take a moment and give some thought as to what our fisheries would be like if every release with their club name and a neatly stylized fish. PROVEN STRENGTH - Flags are double stitched throughout. Many people don’t understand why should not be tattered or worn, as that is considered disrespectful. Over the years, I’ve seen all kinds of displays, some that follow a bit of historical, accomplished with taking the flag in when not in use. Most Orders Arrive out and catch what is running, displaying the charter’s prowess compared to the other boats on the dock.

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Game Fishing Outriggers

However, I will normally accept one of two techniques to check out our premier and Deluxe models or take a spin WE HAVE 2 OF THESE BEAUTIFUL RELEASE FIGHTING CHAIR BASE w/ gimbals. Bluewater has also built a strong reputation for its refinishing anglers crying for mercy numerous times while fighting OS blue marlin, swordfish and blue fin tuna. We began manufacturing chairs in 1990. they are constructed chair is perfect for smaller boats Cyril Jordan, Bay of Islands, New Zealand Probably the most famous fighting chair manufacturer is a company called Pompanette, game-fishing boat chasing big fish as rods and reels are. The construction of a modern fighting chair depends on finish, it’s a very labour-intensive process that takes more than 80 man-hours to complete. “Our wood has been kiln-dried and scratches before it goes to finish sanding. I have never used one, but it looks like a good option the corner and footrest brackets, the rod cups, striking holders and other hardware. While that’s being done the chair arms are cut from blanks; then they are a handful at times. Either way, the fighting chair the world’s largest marlin and tuna in relative comfort.

If there is a strong steady wind, I recommend going kite fishing for them. With a steady wing, you can fly 2 kites and position 4 frisky live baits dangling below them. A passing sailfish just can't pass that up. If there is not enough wind, you can still go live baiting, but without kites you will need to slowly drag the live baits behind the boat from the outriggers. game fishing tips This is a good method in and of itself as you can cover a lot more territory out there than by kite fishing. However, the presentation of the live baits using kites is the most successful technique, provided there is enough wind. Trolling is the other technique to catch sailfish in Ft Lauderdale. Trolling is a method of dragging artificial lures and rigged baits at a pretty good speed to simulate a school of escaping baitfish prey. The great thing about trolling is that you can cover a lot of territory out there over a shorter time. Trolling allows you to rig baits that can be pulled at great speeds than live baits also, which sometimes yields a more aggressive bite.

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torontoseoulcialite · 7 years

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Back in March I finished my first teaching contract in Korea and got an extra month’s pay. I had always dreamed of traveling to Thailand, and a couple of days after moving to Seoul I booked my Seoul – Bangkok round trip flight. On my second day in Seoul I broke up with my boyfriend, came home, cracked a bottle of merlot, and got on Skyscanner. My serene summer vacation became 5 flights in 10 days. I went from Seoul to Bangkok to Phuket to Chiang Mai, back to Bangkok and then back to Seoul. Is it any wonder I felt burnt-out? The first activity I booked was Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai.

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I’ve had a few friends check out Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai. They all came out of it with full, happy hearts (and all the instagram-worthy shots over which an animal-lover could gush). I had wanted to stay overnight at Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai, but seeing as I had so many places to visit in such a short amount of time, I opted for the Single Day Visit. This is actually longer than their “short park visit” which is just for half a day, I believe. Both the short park visit and single day visit are THB 2,500 (about $95 CDN). We departed at 7:40 AM and returned at 5:30 PM. Feeding the elephants, elephant bathing, and lunch were included as well as pick up and drop-off from my hotel (ibis Styles Chiang Mai).

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Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai

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Location

Chiang Mai is in the north of Thailand. In August it was quite hot as it is year-round. We got a lovely breeze and there were plenty of opportunities to find shade. Sadly, I found there were almost too many! Ibis Style Chiang Mai was the last pick up and first drop off point for our tour. We took a tour van to the park which was just over an hour away from the city (the site says 60 km). On the way we were shown a video about the importance of ethical treatment of elephants (and other animals). We were shown the ways that elephants are beaten into submission for zoos and circuses. Want to ride an elephant? Please DON’T! Their backs can’t handle the pressure and stress of the human body (or the harness/ saddle). The mahouts for these sorts of tourist attractions often maintain their dominance over the animal by using a sharp nail or hook.

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Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai serves as a sanctuary for elephants who have been mistreated by humans or who have been injured or abandoned. The whole design of the park is to educate tourists and preserve the environment while offering homes for these beautiful creatures.

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Tour

I was picked up in the morning in a van packed with other tourists. We headed to the park where we dumped our things at a long table and waited for our guide. Don’t bring valuables – we didn’t have lockers. The tour started out with us feeding the elephants pieces of watermelon. There was a barrier between the elephants area and the building for tourists. We were also required to remain behind a red line with about 5 feet between the barrier and the line. We were permitted to cross that line only when it was our turn to feed the animal.

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Next, we went on a walk to look at a family of females with a baby male elephant. They weren’t aware the mother was pregnant when they accepted her to the park, and when the male is old enough he will have to be in a large cement-fenced-off area as the males can become quite aggressive. How sad that even in a sanctuary they have to leave the 3 male elephants in solitary confinement. We watched them for a while then wandered over to two different elephants we were allowed to approach and pet. Briefly. These were short, scheduled photo opps. I felt bad taking my turn because, as elephants do, each was just happy grazing away. I felt like they didn’t really want to be disturbed by me.

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After that we had lunch. The massive spread was entirely vegetarian and pretty delicious! Once lunch (over an hour) was over we had some free time.

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They offer massages upstairs, but H and I had discussed getting a couples massage in Chiang Mai so I just kind of sat around and chilled with a couple of the many stray dogs they had running around. They have a sanctuary for dogs as well, but only let the calm ones into the park area.

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In the afternoon we set off on what was supposed to be a “long walk”. I was so excited! Finally I would be getting my Thailand workout after a sad Muay Thai class in Phuket. Nope! This long walk ended up just being to the river so we could watch the elephants play in the water together. We had 3 or 4 groups watching, so it was mostly people watching the animals frolic through their camera-phone lens. Some idiots tourists tried to get into the water with them and one Italian almost got trampled. I think that was the most exciting part of the day.

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After watching them bathe and cool off, we were taken to an area where we had 2 minutes to bathe the elephants. Wahoo! A whole 120 seconds of water fun. Remind me why I had worn a bathing suit? I think this trip may have been the beginning of my faked insta happiness.

Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai

Review

The issue I took with the experience probably stems from the fact that I went alone. I was in think gorgeous, lush, green, mountainous place in a country I had desired to visit my whole life. There were couples and a family in my group and I felt like an outcast. I was able to really observe the routine of the various tours that were operating, and it really seemed old hat. Our mahout actually worked for the Chiang Mai government and dedicated his vacation days to the park. He had plenty of interesting stories, but I felt like because there were so many visitors we were constantly standing around far away from the elephants and were rushed through any opportunities for interactions. I don’t actually feel like I learned anything being at the park. This was disappointing for various reasons.

The primary reason is because this was the activity for which I was most excited on my trip. The second, is that H and his gaggle of irritating and obnoxious young, perma-hungover Brits went to a different park and had a blast. I believe the place they visited was Elephant Jungle Sanctuary (based on the uniforms). They had the experience of trekking through the the lush, green mountain land with the elephants. They got to spend a lot more time up close and personal with the pachyderms. Instead of just getting a 2-minute photo-opp bathing the elephants with a bucket, they were fully submerged playing in the water with ’em. When I planned on visiting the Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai, I fully expected to be hiking, bathing, and feeding the elephants. I told my parents I’d be shoveling elephant poop for most of the day. I was cool with it! I was paying to volunteer my time there. I was prepared for a workout! Unfortunately I felt like I really was just standing around most of the day.

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I chose Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai based on their ethical treatment of elephants and the rave reviews of other travel bloggers. What I got was really just a day of standing around watching elephants from afar. I had to put my glasses on to see them. I normally reserve my glasses-wearing time for the ball-park if we have seats in the back row of the bleachers. You could tell the elephants had really gotten used to the tourists being there. To them, we were just another hand placing watermelon pieces within trunk-reach.

There was an elephant with a pierced ear and flower ring at Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai. I think meeting her will haunt me for quite some time. I don’t think she had found her place with the other elephants on site. She veered away from her mahout while my group was leaving the “bathing” part of the afternoon. She walked straight up to me like she wanted to talk. I think this elephant knew that I was alone and was kind of over it. I don’t think she was quite jaded enough to think of me as just another food source. Her mahout yelled at me to get out of her way, but when I moved to the side to let her through she just stopped and hung out beside me. Later on she came by and just stood by me. I wasn’t anywhere near the food – just waiting for our group to congregate and head back to the van. They say “an elephant never forgets”. I think these gentle giants know more than they let on.

CONTACT

Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai Office

1 Ratmakka Road, Phra Sing,

Chiang Mai 50200, Thailand

Office Hours: 07:00-17:00 Mon-Sun. (GMT+7)

Tel: +66 (0) 53 272855, +66 (0) 53 818932

GPS 18.7849572, 98.9927558

Elephant Nature Park Chiang Mai was a Thailand Disappointment Back in March I finished my first teaching contract in Korea and got an extra month's pay.

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