I woke up to the beginning of a new decade. My fourth. That makes me forty years old. There I said it: I’m fucking forty! And happy, if not the slightest bit nostalgic for what was the most delightfully surprising decade of my life.
The fact that someone can wake up on opposite ends of ten years and not recognize most of what they see in the mirror says as much about the simple act of aging as it does about the phenomenon of personal transformation: we don’t notice it daily, but birthdays let us know that things – time, perception, and even our sense of style - are constantly shifting.
Falling in love, getting married, finding meaning in work, adopting a dog, traveling around the world and finally finding the perfect pair of black jeans: how am I going to top all of that? I’ve got a decade ahead to give it my best shot.
Something for #throwbackthursday: celebrating my birthday when I was still about 5 going 6. . My sister Sorene is beside me to my right. My grandma Juanita was still with us. She stands behind my friend Francis, who is behind my sister. My friend Jean stands behind me while another friend, Hyancinth, is on my left. I can no longer recall who were those whose faces got cropped out. . Birthdays then were more festive, fun and memorable. And the world, at least from my perspective, was way much simpler. #tbt #birthdays #childhood #oldpics #CDO #80s #pastlife https://www.instagram.com/p/B8ggcFPHzGd/?igshid=mu2861vk4a15
Terkel moved to Chicago to attend University of Chicago, attaining a bachelor’s of philosophy and a J.D. there, but despite being admitted to the Illinois bar after finishing law school, he never practiced law. Instead, he found work in a writer’s project funded by theWork’s Progress Administration (WPA),which allowed him to write and act for radio (often taking on the role of the villain). It was as an actor that he was dubbed Studs, from Chicago writer James T. Farrell’sStuds Lonigan trilogy, reportedly because there was another Louis in cast and the director wanted to differentiate the two. Terkel happened to be reading Farrell at the time and the name stuck.
Radio work eventually led to a television show, “Studs’ Place” (1949 - 1951), where Terkel’s strength as not only an interviewer, but a conversationalist, was recognized. However, a combination of the changing television landscape and Terkel’s outspoken leftist views in the McCarthy era meant the show was short lived. Terkel found a new home as a radio host at the newly formed WFMT, a fine-arts station more tolerant of Studs’ politics, where his show would endure for 45 years. It was through his radio program that he attracted the attention of publisher Andre Schriffin, and his literary career took off. Terkel passed away at his home in Chicago in 2008, at the age of 96.
Studs Terkel insisted that everyone has a story, and everyone deserves to be heard. He is remembered as one of the greatest oral historians of the 20th century.
The Leo III period takes Leadership as its central image. This period can be likened to a time in the prime of one’s life when the right combination of experience, enthusiasm, energy, and knowledge can make one a strong candidate for positions of responsibility. Perhaps for the first time, taking over the reins of a business, club, or family and leading it to new heights can seem natural and appropriate. Such a leadership role may be a proving ground for assuming even greater roles of this sort later in life–for example, when a manager becomes a partner or owner, or a parent becomes a patriarch or matriarch.
The days that comprise Leo III picture the adult validating his/her skills and experience, learning when to rely on conventional wisdom and when to take risks, and discovering the most effective way to galvanize a team and lead it effectively, inspirationally, and tirelessly.
Leo III’s often assume a commanding role in their family and social or work group. They have highly developed instincts to lead, but not necessarily to dominate or to rule; it is simply that action comes naturally to these dynamic individuals. They are also good planners, well capable of organizing an effective plan of attack and seeing it through. Building an effective team is essential to their continued success, and learning to delegate authority is key to stopping them from shouldering unrealistic burdens alone, which can result in burnout or breakdown.
People born during this week have a heroic view of themselves. Aggressive, Leo III’s know what they want and how to get it. They may lack consideration for the wishes of others, arousing antagonism and getting them in trouble, particularly since they are not, in fact, insensitive to what others are feeling but may choose to ignore what they know and follow their own desires. By occasionally riding roughshod over the emotions of those in their lives, they arouse resentment, fear and anger. But they may also inspire tremendous loyalty, respect and love in others, so much so that their acquaintances and friends often overlook the more selfish elements of their character.
Individuals born during this week have an overwhelming faith in their own abilities. In extreme cases they see themselves as infallible, and seek to project a godlike demeanor. Obvious problems may result from this egotistical stance, not the least of these being the loss of faith that can be engendered in their children, mates and co-workers when they get tripped up. The fall from grace that inevitably follows may result in deep disillusionment; this can impair the relationship permanently, but it can also lead to a more realistic view of their personality.
Careerwise, Leo III’s specialize in breathing new life into an ailing business or social or family group. Their prodigious energy and single-mindedness may be just what is needed to get things back on track. These folks must see their endeavors bear fruit. Watching their restructuring and its implementation bloom is enormously satisfying to them; conversely, seeing their efforts fail is usually intolerable. Because they are not easily approached on an emotional level, striving shoulder to shoulder with them in such endeavors may be an effective means of getting close to them. Such working relationships may create deep ties of mutual feeling, which sometimes last a lifetime.
If they are to ground their self-image and bring themselves into closer everyday contact with others, it may be important for them to share quite menial tasks. In particular, they will earn greater respect from family members if they shoulder ordinary, everyday responsibilities at home on a daily basis. A refusal or inability to “lower” themselves to this human level may result in tensions, frustrations and arguments. More balanced ones will avoid such needless difficulties by getting their chores done quickly and efficiently, with little fuss, thus freeing themselves up for what they view as more important endeavors.
Their creativity often runs high. Although they are capable of selfishness and narrowness in their personal dealings, in their careers their imagination, philosophical perspective, and wide range of expression often result in artistic, financial and social creations of a very high order. Many of their friends, acquaintances and co-workers, in fact, are not really so much enamored of the person themselves as they are drawn to the aura surrounding them and the work they produce.
Other strong personalities inevitably clash with these folks, and relationships with them are likely to be stormy affairs unless the other party is willing to compromise or back down. But the more clever, and devious, of their partners and mates know exactly how to soothe this savage lion or lioness. These people are not unaware of their charisma, and consequently come to value the constant love and appreciation of that very special person. In fact, they may not actually be at all aggressive toward those they love. As long as they are honored and respected, they will be generous and kind, even to a fault: they will often refuse to see anything wrong in the behavior of a favored family member, a trait that can make them quite unrealistic. Having a thoroughly spoiled mate or child is their trademark. In love, they are subject to sudden, explosive, violent and passionate displays of emotion. Their feelings are capable of smoldering under the surface for a long period only to break out unexpectedly and volcanically.
Those involved in love affairs with those born during the Week of Leadership may appreciate their searing intensity and almost total involvement, but at the same time may have difficulty with their often overbearing, combative and unforgiving attitudes. In personal relationships, although faithful up to a point, they are not particularly long-suffering, and will not hesitate to break things off if they are wounded or see little hope for the future. Coming to feel that they apply a double standard to their relationships, their partners, angry and disgusted, may rudely drop them, which can amaze the more unaware of them since they imagine things are going well. Indeed, such persons may show little interest in seeing things from the other person’s point of view.
The Leo II period takes Balanced Strength as its central image. This period symbolizes a time in the adult life when the need to adopt a heroic, protective, or nurturing stance comes to the fore. Usually such feelings emerge in family situations or in work with social groups. Adopting and playing a role fully is important at this time and to that extent, taking life seriously. Showing the courage to stand up for one’s convictions and not forsake one’s ideals no matter what are characteristic of this period.
The days that comprise Leo II symbolically reveal the mature adult developing poise and composure, maximizing effectiveness, exerting both power and influence in a variety of social roles, and commanding respect. Assertiveness, honor, dignity, and faithfulness are qualities stressed here.
Those born during the Week of Balanced Strength are solid and tough and do not back down from challenges; in fact, they thrive on them, and are often at their best when facing problems and difficulties. Although drawn toward experiences that hold an element of danger, they are usually not foolhardy enough to attempt the impossible. Realists, they are well aware of their limitations, which they may stretch to the limit if necessary but will rarely try to overleap. Fixed attitudes characterize those born in this period, so it will take a great deal of patience and persistence to get them to change their mind. Leo II’s pride themselves on their ability to spot phoniness and nonsense, and are particularly critical of metaphysical ideas not strongly grounded in the here and now.
Leo II’s generally exercise tremendous powers of concentration, but through their fixation on their object they may lose the peripheral vision necessary for keeping in touch with their surroundings. In a related problem, their reliance on logical reasoning can detract from what may well be their best suit—that is, their capacity for strong hunches and their intuitive strengths. These traits may lead them to get out of touch with reality while at the same time remaining convinced of their rightness— a dangerous combination.
Gifted with endurance and tenacity, these individuals hang in there for the duration. The upside of this character trait is their intense loyalty and devotion; the downside is a streak of masochism—a tendency, for example, to suffer while trying to hold a romance, marriage or business together. They can continue in an unhappy or stressful relationship for years without undue complaint, patiently seeking ways to make it work. Although they would sometimes do better by quitting, they will usually refuse to take the easy way out, and they may have little respect for those who lack their level of commitment. When long-standing relationships that have proven unsatisfactory finally do collapse, perhaps due to a stroke of fate, or to the partner’s unwillingness to continue, they have a tendency to sink into depression. Too often they blame themselves. A long period of grieving may be necessary before they are once again able to function well.
Leo II’s can certainly be their own worst enemies. They exude power and self-confidence when their prodigious energies meld, but these same energies also get out of control and can threaten to tear them apart. At such times they make a piteous sight. Alcohol or drug binges and borderline or outright criminal activities can all be the evidence of them running amok. Keeping balanced is less an ideal for them to attain than an absolute condition for their healthy survival. Their children and friends can be severely jolted if these normally reassuring presences disintegrate. Thus their desire to be a protector of the weak and a friend to the underdog can backfire.
Individuals born in this week do well in highly structured situations of their own making, situations in which they are at the helm. They periodically feel an acute need to withdraw into a private place, however, and sometimes to a strictly isolated one. The problem here is an accompanying tendency to nurse hurts and slights, and in extreme cases to manifest paranoia. Developing an accepting attitude and working to diminish dogmatic and intolerant thought are essential to their mental health.
For the most part, Leo II’s are extraordinarily faithful people. They see themselves as champions of the downtrodden and protectors of the weak. They despise exclusion and condescension and, for this reason, generally side with the common person rather than the privileged. It is not that they do not have an ability to mix well with a variety of social classes; rather, they dislike insincerity or pretension.
In their toughness, such persons are able to withstand many disappointments. They usually weather the storm and win out through knowing how to wait, “having the long breath.” They like being independent, but nonetheless tend to build a well-defined life in which they exert maximum power with a minimum of fuss.
Those involved with them, whether as co-workers, employees, family, mates or friends, know that they must not be pushed or prodded when in a negative frame of mind but, rather, must be left alone to work things out for themselves. They are also sometimes accused of insensitivity. This is more often a result of their being preoccupied than of a lack of understanding on their part, for many are psychologically astute; yet although they can comprehend another person’s emotional state, they may feel no need to sympathize with it. They are not especially empathic with those around them, and are capable of a stony detachment. Many Leo II’s find emotional matters simply too messy to get involved in, a response that is sometimes traceable to unpleasant childhood experience. When their parent, child or lover is of a more feeling type, conflict can result.
Being straightforward and unpretentious themselves, those born during the Week of Balanced Strength dislike people who put on airs. Nothing excites their often uncontrollable temper more than insincerity, lying or disingenuousness. Their anger and hotheadedness can weaken the psychological balance on which their strength depends. Those closest to these intense individuals know how to use sensual persuasion and a fun-loving outlook to keep their partners happy.
The Leo I period takes Authority as its central image. This period can be likened to the beginning of the mature adult life as an individual turns thirty. Confidence can run high at this point if the doubts and uncertainty of the first Saturn return (age twenty-eight or twenty-nine) have been resolved. Beginning the process of establishing oneself as an authority in a given field can be a focus at this time and an absorbing task. Some must assume the role of authority to their growing children, while others may look to an older, more experienced person who can serve as a teacher, a guide who can initiate them into broader understanding of the world. Other Leo I’s may strengthen their sense of confidence through what they learn from books, religious or spiritual teachings, philosophy, etc.
Among the most powerfully authoritative of the year, Leo I’s are intense, hard-driving, individuals dedicated primarily to their own personal activities, growth and development. Asserting themselves and being taken seriously is what appeals to them. Also, much of their energy is channeled inward rather than outward, toward developing their own strengths and abilities. Yet they do not view themselves as the be-all and end-all either– far from it. They believe in ultimate higher authorities, which they worship and serve: usually the abstract truths and principles embodied in the practice of their principal endeavor, whether it lies in the arts, business, sports or philosophy. Although they have their heroes, it is usually these principles rather than to people that they accord the highest value.
Many Leo I’s can be highly competitive, and geared to coming out on top. Others don’t really care that much for worldly success, being more interested in bettering their own personal best. It may be difficult for Leo I’s to work for a boss, especially one they do not respect. Yet when they runt heir own company or business, they also encounter problems, since their capacity to dominate is often greater than their capacity to lead. They may work most easily with people who have been drawn to them as admirers, students or disciples; then the relationship is clear from the start. Another solution can be working on their own, perhaps as freelancers. Leo I’s can best become team players with co-workers and associates when it is clear that they are all working together for a common, usually higher cause.
Leo I’s are highly physical individuals, magnetically drawn to exciting and confrontational experiences. Those born in this week need to prove themselves repeatedly, whether in the sports arena, the wild world of nature, the jungle of corporate finance or the intimacy of the bedroom. So intense is this area of their personality that intimates and enemies alike may feel a bit ignored, for much of their striving is impersonal in nature, and basically an expression of the Leo I will to overcome. Even in more mundane, everyday activities, mates and loves periodically feel the Leo I’s detachment.
Being involved with such individuals is rarely an easy task. Their standards are extremely high, and they too often want others to show a similar intensity and devotion. In the end, however, they usually do expect more of themselves than of others, and do show an understanding of their colleagues’ and intimates’ limitations. Realistic Leo I’s will not have disproportionately high expectations of co-workers and mates but will only expect the best of which they are capable. This in itself can be a heavy enough load for them to bear.
Leo I’s can make loyal and faithful friends. It is usually only from such intimates that a Leo I can accept advice, particularly of a personal nature. Leo I’s will not usually accept help from a colleague, professional counselor, or stranger. Perhaps once in a lifetime, however, those born in the Week of Authority may put themselves in the hands of another person to whom they ascribe almost godlike status, often a kind of teacher or guru. Such trust is not given easily, and should it fail, tremendous disillusionment will surely follow.
Most of those born in the Week of Authority would do well to work on their treatment of their fellow human beings, particularly in the areas of kindness, patience and understanding. Those involved with these tough customers must themselves be prepared to show these three traits in abundance. When the high expectations of Leo I’s are not met, they can become unusually frustrated and bitter. Also, they do not react well to negativity, nagging and constant criticism. Those who live and work most successfully with Leo I’s, then, are those whose attitudes are open, determined and optimistic.
Family life works out well for some Leo I’s; for others it is a great mistake. Rarely, however, does a Leo I deeply need it. Should they choose to be parents, they will have a lot to give; they have much to teach, are protective and inspire confidence. But their children and mates must quickly come to appreciate their need for their own space, and for time away from home. Trying to get the undivided attention of a Leo I can be a frustrating experience. Too often their idea of caring and attention may be limited to intense encounters, rather than steady displays of understanding and sympathy.
As lovers, Leo I’s are usually passionate rather than sensuous. They may also exhibit a certain detachment, or a preoccupation elsewhere. Predictable and routine circumstances often dull sexual gratification for those born in this week. More often than not, their most pleasurable sexual experiences come not with their mates or partners, but in casual, chance encounters, or in clandestine affairs of longer standing. Successful spouses of Leo I’s know how to keep the romantic flame alive through a combination of variety, skill and imagination.
Leo I’s must learn to relax and have fun or risk burnout. Those who can seduce them away from their work and their intense preoccupations will play important roles in their lives. Casual friends who can do this often experience the best that those born in this week have to offer.
This quick video sums up my 4 days blessed weekend. Love being with family and friends. From Chicago, Texas, Vegas, and BIRTHDAYS!!! Thai food, seafood, Filipino food, Vietnamese food and the best part HOME COOKED MEALS!! I have every photo except the Easter Sunday today. I feel like I’m 10 months pregnant lmao! When you’re around with Filipinos there’s always FOOD AVAILABLE! Yeah and of course I got my ELOTE! #Family #friends #filfam #filipinos #pinoys #birthdays #hbdloloelmore #hechanovas #calderons #mansos #thankful #foodporn omg I sound like a broken record. HOW MANY TIMES IVE SAID YAASSS in this video?! #fatass (at California)
Things have been ok for the last few months in respect to mental health. My mother had been on pretty good behavior, at least for her anyway.
Though around the holidays she had a meltdown while driving and purposely tried to crash the car b/c we’d disagreed on something. Clearly that was terrifying but it’s not like it was the 1st time she’d done that. And thankfully she did not succeed.
It scares me that I can write that out with a straight face.
The last week she’s been acting like a complete gremlin. I know it’s because my birthday is coming up b/c she does this every year. She’s wicked for weeks and then enters all-out torture mode on my bday.
But I won’t give her the satisfaction. I have simply elected to no longer have a birthday. Or–at least not one I will tell anyone about.
And i don’t mean a party. I mean the actual date. It’s become a trigger for me. I have so many trauma anniversaries on or around it, that the whole month of February is something of a psychological mine field.
I get stressed out by seeing the days count down on the calendar. So I have decided that it’s just any other day and I will move my birthday, a day for celebrating being alive, elsewhere.
Gyrgan made sure to acknowledge each of the paladins’ (and Coran’s) birthdays. In other words, he made a very big deal about it and made their favourite foods and sometimes organised surprise celebrations (even if Zarkon had reacted kind of violently once or twice and Trigel startled so badly the first time that they didn’t see her for a quintant). They all appreciated it, even if some (read: Zarkon) were bad at showing it.
Comic Book Review: Forbidden Worlds Vol. 15 edited by Richard E. Hughes
Forbidden Worlds started as a horror anthology comic book series from American Comics Group in 1951. In 1955, it ran foul of new restrictions on horror in comics, but soon retooled as “stories of strange adventure” which conformed with the Comics Code and kept being published until 1967. This volume reprints #89 (August…
It’s been a while…..With my baby boy’s birthday being just around the corner the sappy me thinks back to the day that he was born. March 10, 2014 will forever hold a special place in my heart. On that day I became a mama and I met the most beautiful baby boy. We named him after my husband (John) but decided that he would live his life as “Johnny”. Being a Johnny Cash and a Dirty Dancing fan I was sold. For anyone that did not get the dirty dancing reference, Patrick Swayze’s charecters name was Johnny. If you have not seen this movie, put your phone down and watch it now! You will not be disappointed! On the day that i had my son, my heart learned a new kind of love. The kind of love that is unconditional, pure and consuming. It’s amazing how becoming a mom trumps just about anything I have ever done. I complain about motherhood as much if not more than the next mom. I work full time, I am always tired and I go days with out washing my hair (today is day 6) I lied it’s actually 7. I should be a spokesperson for dry shampoo! In just a few short weeks my 1st born will be 6 years old. It flew by so fast, too fast. He’s smart, opinionated, strong, stubborn, energetic, kind, thoughtful, funny and most of all the biggest pain in my ass. I am so proud of him and I hope that he goes through life and never questions my love for him. Happy almost birthday Johnny!
The AMAZING cookies and birthday cake my sister in law made for me! Sooooo delicious! Thank you @y00_sun, your baking is incredible! #cookiesandcream#cake#birthdaycake#homemade#bakedgoods#sweets#dessert#delicious#yummy#foodporn#birthdays#special#instayummy#instagood#instalove#instagood#instadaily#instalove#love (at Lewisville, Texas)
Since it’s November now i’d like to suggest a great christmas gift to my followers :D Not because i’m affiliated with them or anything i just think they’re neat!
let’s you adopt and name a lobster, you get a birth certificate and can even track when it’s gonna be released. It’s absolutely affordable and a very fun gift for an animal lover because it supports marine education and research. I adopted a few lobsters in the past aswell, it’s just cute and you’re supporting a great thing. Think about it!
The next little part of my Darkside Logan series! Enjoy!
…
He wakes to a wild screech, glitter and party popper streamers raining from the ceiling, an incredibly loud noise maker going off, fireworks exploding against the ceiling, in pops of deep indigo and silver sparks. He raises an eyebrow as he sits up, stretching, lips twitching into a smile at Remus whooping and cartwheeling around his room, finally coming to a stop in front of him, clapping his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Good morning to you as well, Remus. That was quite an impressive show.” He says evenly, the last of the glitter settling on the ground around him. “I do hope you’ll clean that up later, otherwise it’ll get everywhere.” He yelps as Remus pulls him to his feet and into a waltz, disembodied music drifting through the room, laughing as Remus spins him quicker than his mind can process, dipping him low to the ground. Then Remus swears, and he feels the balance shift, and they’re both on the floor, Remus landing atop him in a tangle of limbs, both of them erupting into startled laughter.
“Not that you need a reason, but this seems like extra effort, even for you. What’s the occasion?” He asks, once they both get their laughter under control, untangling from each other as Remus helps him back to his feet, grin wide and wild, practically vibrating with energy.
“Cygie! You really don’t know!?” Remus exclaims, linking arms with Cygnus as they leave his room, slowly walking down the hall to their kitchen.
“Hmm… nothing comes to mind?” Remus squeals, pulling him faster towards the dark commons, Cygnus’s breath leaving him in a rush as he takes in the state of the room.
It’s decorated with indigo and silver streamers draped in intricate knots across the ceiling. There’s an archway made of black and blue balloons over the entry way to the kitchen, sparkling silver stars dotting the walls, glittering tape tracing constellations in them. And across the wall, above the couch, is a hand made, hand painted, beautifully caligrohpied sign.
“Happy birthday, Cygnus.” Janus says, echoing the sign, emerging from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, watching him appraisingly.
He can’t seem to find his words.
“Cyg?” Remus asks softly, coming around his front, taking both of his hands, and he realizes his eyes are watering, on the verge of tears. “Oh shit, did we fuck up? I’m sorry, was it the glitter? Was it the penis I hid in the happy bday sign?”
“WHAT?!” Janus squawks indignantly at that, and Logan lets out a laugh, shaking his head, because he loves these two, so much, and he’s trying to regain his composure enough to explain.
“No, I… it’s wonderful. I just… I’ve never celebrated, my birthday before. I never… kept track, with them. I… it’s been a year, already?” He asks, looking between Remus and Janus, who are sharing slightly horrified and slightly concerned looks.
“You never… they never did anything for you? Not even Patton?” Remus asks, his voice so high it’s nearly at a pitch only dolphins can hear. He shakes his head, looking away.
“There were more important things to attend to. I didn’t want to distract everyone. No one… remembered, anyway, so I just… stopped, keeping track.” He explains, not protesting as Remus pulls him into a tight hug.
“Well. Your happiness and self worth are very much more important than having a productive day. If Roman gets a full week of birthday shenanigans, the least they could have done was give you a day, sweetling.” Janus adds softly, joining the hug for a brief moment, before pulling back, wiping away Cygnus’s tears, a soft smile on his face. “you deserve it, Cygnus. You work so hard, darling. You deserve to be pampered and fawned over for at least a day.”
“Every day must be my birthday then.” He answers, smiling at Janus’s soft laugh, who ruffles his hair as he passes by.
“Oh, you haven’t seen nothin yet, my starry night! Today is going to be a nonstop orgy of Cygnus appreciation! To Breakfast!” Remus screeches, sprinting into the kitchen, from which loud crashing emerges a moment later, along with a muffled “I’m okay!” That has Janus shaking his head with an exasperated smile as he follows Remus into the kitchen, ready to manage whatever mess he’d made.
…
A year.
It has been a year. One whole year. Three hundred and sixty five days. Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes. Thirty one million, five hundred thirty six thousand seconds.
It hasn’t felt like that long. Or maybe it has felt longer, with all the changes taking place in the mindscape. He’s not really sure, but it sure is giving him a bit of a strange sense of vertigo, right now.
It’s almost impossible, to compare where he is now to where he was a year ago, two years ago. He’s… happy. He’s so much happier than he’s ever been before, he feels appreciated, he feels loved, he feels listened to. He’s not working himself to near death every single day without giving himself any breaks. He’s not pretending to be a machine, not denying his emotions anymore. He’s smiling, he’s laughing, he’s crying, he’s… learning, how to express himself, to understand his emotions, and always, always, Remus and Janus were patient and considerate and there for him.
His relationships with the others are also probably better than they have ever been before. He was right, when he told Patton so long ago that they would do better as friends than as family. That the distance would be good for them.
Everyone is making progress, in leaps and bounds, in acknowledging their own faults, in realizing their own shortcomings, in accepting their flaws and reaching out for help. It helps, he supposes, that there are now two sides who can, in a way, sense lies. Neither him nor Janus will let the others get away with denying their needs or wants, not when it’s important, anyways, and slowly, everyone is getting into the habit of simply… not hiding.
Patton is open, about his bad days. The days he calls ‘gray days’, where the world doesn’t seem to shine, where nothing feels right or good, and he can’t see a point to getting out of bed. He’s devised several signals, clear markers with everyone that show a day is gray, so he doesn’t have to say it, to speak it out loud, because even that is too hard, somedays, it’s easier to just leave a frowny face sticker on his door, and the first one to see it tells everyone else, who take turns spending time with him, coaxing him into activities, or at least out of bed, slowly driving the apathy away.
Roman is still trying to find himself. To rebuild himself, from the crushing defeat and existential crisis of the wedding, and everything it resulted in. He still struggles to admit when he’s struggling, still finds it hard to portray anything other than the happy, peppy persona, but he doesn’t pull back, run, anymore, when someone calls him out. If someone asks how he’s feeling, how he’s doing, Roman won’t paste on a smile and chirp out an answer. He’ll let his mask fall, and answer honestly. It’s too hard, yet, to bring it up himself, so the others are learning to ask, making sure to ask, making sure to not simply brush Roman’s worries or frustrations aside. He’s happier, too, Cygnus knows, the time spent writing with Thomas has him happier than he’s been in years, and more and more days the answer to how he’s feeling is on the okay side of the scale.
Virgil… has stayed much the same, outwardly. But he spends more time, now, with Remus and Janus, and… himself. They’ve talked, quite a lot, actually. He explained his history with the other two dark sides, why he acted how he had towards them, had explained too about his old, unhealthy, habits, how he still struggles, every once in a while, though he hasn’t given in and done it in years. He’d hugged Virgil then, it was maybe the bravest thing the anxious side had ever done, telling him that, telling him everything, apologizing for how he’d reacted, the first time he had appeared to all of them, as Ambition. He’d found it impossible, not to forgive him. Overall, he’d handled it the best out of any of them.
And Thomas.
He’s so proud of Thomas. He’s taken everything in stride. He’s making time for himself, making time to spend individually with every side.
He’s writing with Roman, and also with Remus, working with him to express his horrifying ideas in darkly comedic ways, countering Roman’s fairy tale quests and happy endings.
He’s watching movies with Virgil, or swapping music with him, listening to him spout off about his favorite bands, favorite lyrics. They’ve broken out the karaoke machine a couple times, singing at the top of their lungs, dancing like fools around the living room until they’re breathless from laughing. Virgil’s smile is becoming a more and more common sight.
He’s crafting with Patton, the fatherly side teaching him how to knit and crochet, which Patton is an expert at, fawning over every one of Thomas’s haphazard attempts at a scarf or pot holder. While their hands are busy, they talk, about anything and everything. They’re even attempting to learn how to cook together, though that often ends with the smoke alarm going off. They’re not allowed to cook unsupervised anymore, usually Virgil or Janus keeping things from getting too out of hand from the living room couch.
He’s playing video games with Janus, who loves to pick out the strange, indie games, the ones with ambiguous story lines, twist endings, choices that affect the game, affect the people in it. They discuss undertale for hours, Janus going on an hour long monolague of Flowey’s morality, his take on how much influence Asriel actually has on Flowy, when he’s soulless, surprised that Thomas pays attention the whole time, just as into the game as he is. They play A Way Out together, and Thomas actually throws the controller at the plot twist, shock on his face, as he’s forced to battle Janus, who is laughing the whole time at his indignant spluttering and shocked expression, Janus absolutely annihilating him.
And himself. Thomas hadn’t been lying, when he said nothing changed, between the two of them, just because he is now Ambition. Thomas hasn’t shied away from him, hasn’t excluded him. He’s made time for him, as well. He’d bought a telescope, and set it up in the backyard. They go stargazing together, Cygnus pointing out the planets, when visible, the constellations, passing comets, relaying their history and myths, Thomas asking questions at every turn, until their conversation was somewhere else entirely, talking about anything and everything. They’d also started a bit of a book club, as Thomas called it, though it was really just the two of them. Each month they took turns giving the other a book to read, and then they’d discuss it. He usually sticks to the classics, the three muskateers, moby dick, the jungle book, and he was a bit surprised at how fast Thomas took to them, how much he enjoyed them, enjoyed discussing them. Thomas’s choices surprise him sometimes, too. It’s not always another adventure novel, sometimes it’s the original book of Wicked, or a nonfiction book about the history of cartoon animation, he varies more than Cygnus would have guessed, and he’s surprised at how… entertained, he is, by Thomas’s choices, the ones he would never have picked to read himself.
But most importantly, most incredibly, were the others. Patton, Roman, Logan, Virgil. They had all, individually, apologized, for the way they had treated him, talked over him, ignored him, silenced him. And they were proving they meant it. Every day, they were proving they meant those apologies. They were listening to him. Listening to each other. Everyone has an equal voice, now, and everything feels… good.
So why, does it having been a year, make him feel so… strange? It’s not sadness, not even nostalgia, really, it’s… something melancholy. Something a bit happy, something a bit sad, something a bit wistful.
“Cygnus? Are you alright?” He blinks away his thoughts, realizing he’s been staring at his plate of pancakes for a solid five minutes without taking a bite. They look delicious, topped with sugared berries and warm syrup.
“Just… lost in thought. These are from your garden, correct? Hopefully the non venomous section.” He answers, looking up at Remus, who’s shoveling pancakes topped with caramel and rainbow sprinkles into his mouth, who swallows hugely, nodding.
“Yuppers! And I did pick the ones that won’t kill you, just for your b-day, cygie! At least, they should be mostly non toxic. Let me know if your tongue starts tingling.” Remus answers, and Cygnus chuckles, cutting into his pancakes.
“I will take that into account.”
…
He doesn’t know what he’s doing, when he wanders up the stairs, towards the light side living room. He doesn’t even intend to go there, really, it’s just… where he’s drawn.
“Ambition. We, uh, didn’t expect you, so early.” Roman says, peeking out of the living room, moving to lean against the doorframe, blocking his view of it before he could see anything.
“Roman. You are acting… strange?”
“Me? Wha? No, I’m being perfectly normal! Because you, Ambition, is here!” He sputters, saying the last sentence far too loud to be normal. He’s about to reply, when Patton’s head appears, shooing Roman out of the way.
“You, go finish the… the project! Ok, Roman?” Roman nods, scurrying back into the living room, Patton taking his place blocking the doorway.
“Is everything alright, Patton?” He asks, slightly amused, and only mildly concerned at a distant curse from Virgil.
“Uh huh! Just finishing up something! What brings you here, Ambition? Not that it isn’t good to see you, and you’re of course welcome here all the time, but why on this particular day at this particular moment have you chosen to come visit?” Patton squeaks, his tone rising in pitch until it was nearly above human hearing.
“Are you alright, Patton?” He asks, trying to gauge what exactly has everyone so on edge.
“Yup! Just waiting for the ok!”
“The okay for what?”
“We’re ready!” Roman calls, and Patton steps aside.
“The ok for this.” Patton says softly, stepping aside and ushering him into the living room. For the second time this day, all the air escapes his lungs, and his hands cover his mouth to stifle whatever noise is trying to escape, he can’t tell if it’s a sob or a laugh or something in between.
The room is decorated with glow in the dark stars, blue and white flowers climb the walls on deep green vines, blooming from the cracks in the plaster, filling the room with the sweet smell of summer. On the table sits a cake, carefully air blown a blue ombre, constellations carefully traced across it in silver gilding, it must have taken hours. He can feel the tears slipping down his face, knows everyone is trying to figure out what to do.
“Ambition. Can I hug you?” Virgil asks, stepping into his field of view, and he nods, letting Virgil wrap his arms around him, surprising even himself as he hugs back, face buried in his shoulder. He feels Roman’s arms wrap around him from behind, Patton’s joining a moment later, surrounding him in warmth.
“you remembered. I… you’ve never…”
“We know. I know, Amby. And we’re so sorry.” Roman murmurs, pulling back.
“I know this doesn’t make up for that, for all those years… but we thought maybe, maybe this could be part of starting over. Of being better.” Patton adds, smiling through his own teary eyes as he pats Ambition’s shoulder, before pulling away as well, Ambition finally emerging from Virgil’s embrace, swiping at his eyes.
“Yes. I would… like that.” He mumbles, still a bit awestruck.
“Oh, let’s get Janus and Remus, for presents!” He frowns slightly at that, stepping back.
“Did they put you up to this?” He asks, voice trembling, and he hears Janus’s soft laugh from the doorway.
“No, sweetling. This was all them. We didn’t tell them a thing.” Janus murmurs, appearing with a swish of his cape, Remus thundering up the stairs behind him.
“Nice digs! Not nearly as sweet as our decorations of course, but you tried!” Roman splutters indignantly at that, squaring off against his twin.
“Please! I bet I could plan a party better than you, any day!”
“Maybe if it was for babies. Can you even make a cocktail?”
“Of course! I know how to mix drinks, Remus.” Remus grinned, eyes swirling.
“I was thinking more of an entrée.” He replies with a smirk and shoulder shimmy.
“Remus.” Janus says, exasperated, glancing at Patton.
“It’s alright. He’s just excited! I’m sure you’d throw very interesting parties, Remus. If… if you promise not to make it too scary, maybe you and Virgil could team up for a Halloween one.” Patton suggests, laughing as Remus squeals, launching himself into Virgil’s arms, who catches him instinctually in a Scooby-Doo like hold, before dropping him like a hot potato.
“What the heck, dude!?”
“Can we? It’ll be like old times, you and me, creating horrors and monsters and creeping lurking things? Pleaaaaase?” Virgil snorts as Remus bats his eyelids at him, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He mutters in agreement, trying to contain his own grin as Remus whoops, spinning him around in a circle, already babbling about ideas. It’s good, to see them laughing together.
“I believe someone said something about presents?” Janus drawls, resting a hand on Cygnus’s back, gently leading him to sit down on the couch. Instantly, everyone else crowds around, clamoring over who gets to go first, and he’s crying again, because not only are they giving him attention, they’re fighting for his attention, and he supposes he should feel guilty about liking it, but Janus has rubbed off on him, a bit, so he just smiles, instead.
Before anyone else can, Roman shoves a box into his hands, grinning at having gotten in ‘the first gift’, everyone settling as he stares at the shimmery blue wrapping paper. Tentatively, he peels back the paper, removing the cardboard top of the small box, eyes widening.
It’s a large, blue star sapphire, embedded in a silver filigree, hanging from a silver chain. He lifts it, slightly awestruck, turning it over as his thumb feels grooves against the back, tilting his head to decipher the writing, discovering it’s his name, Ambition, in circular galifreyan.
“Did I get the spelling right? I looked up several guides, but there’s a lot of rules and such.” Roman asks, no doubt nervous at his silence.
“It’s… it’s perfect, Roman. Thank you.” He says softly, slipping the chain over his head, the pendant resting just above his heart. He looks up in time to see Roman’s blush, his expression so tenderly soft, looking at him, that he clears his throat and looks away.
“Me next! Ours are a set!” Remus interrupts, shoving another box into his hands, slightly larger than the previous one, though much the same weight. “Ro had the idea, and we coordinated our results!” He chirps, as Cygnus pulls open the box, a soft grin already on his face.
It’s a silver circlet, with a teardrop blue diamond that will sit in the center of his forehead, and engraved along the inside of the circlet is more galifreyan, this time that reads ‘cygnus’. The band is thin and light, but sturdy, and he knows the engraving must have taken a long time, to do by hand, requiring a lot of patience and focus.
“It’s wonderful.” He murmurs, slipping it onto his head, finding the weight odd, but rather comforting. His past self would have scoffed, at these items, said he didn’t desire to play pretend, to play dress up, and what was the point of them? But he knows better, now, has more confidence in himself and expressing himself, now, and he knows he’ll rarely be seen without them on, he loves them already.
“Wow, ok, well, way to make a side feel wholly inadequate. Um, here, I guess.” Virgil mumbles nervously, depositing a tissue paper wrapped item in his lap. “It’s not much, compared to, that, but-“ Virgil cuts himself off with a shrug, toeing the floor nervously as he unwraps the paper.
It’s a photo. He’s in the kitchen, head thrown back, laughing. Remus is a blur of green movement in the background, chasing a blur of red, a pot is boiling over on the stove, Patton frantically stirring it, trying to scold the twins from over his shoulder, and somehow Janus is hissing from atop the fridge, clearly having climbed up there to escape the shenanigans below. He smiles, running his thumb over the frame, touched that Virgil had thought to capture that moment, one of the first moments of happiness since everything had happened, one of the first times they’d all been together, and all let themselves go.
“I love it, Virg. I… thank you.” He murmurs, low and sincere, and a small smile creeps across Virgil’s face as he nods, tension leaking out of his shoulders.
Janus is next, his simple, a book Cygnus has been meaning to read for ages, but he knows it’s really an invitation for a debate, or perhaps to set up a lecture in the mindscape theater, an open invitation for a day spent ranting and raving and arguing and debating, until they’re both too tired to continue, losing their thoughts mid sentence, trying to string together coherent points at three am. He sets it aside with a small nod and smile, all Janus needs, to know he’s understood, and appreciates it.
Patton is last, but not least, not in the slightest, as he sits down on the couch beside him, nervously running his hand up and down the couch.
“Mine’s a bit… a bit of a group project, I suppose.” He says, handing the package to Cygnus. It’s bigger than the others, with a bit more weight to it, as well, a card taped atop the paper wrapped package. The front has a rough drawing, of all of them together, holding hands. Inside it says ‘Ambition. You’ll always be a part of my heart. Happy birthday, kiddo. Love you.’ With doodles of butterflies and stars and planets.
He’s already smiling warmly at that, as he carefully sets it aside, opening the package to find a large book. On the cover is space for a photo to be inserted, and he recognizes it immediately, it’s a selfie Thomas took with all of them. The cover is patterned in silver constellations, the background a deep blue, and curiously, he flips it open, finding the cover is signed by Patton, Virgil, and Roman, who have all written short notes to him, expressing their support, their love, their pride, in who he is becoming, in his own self. His hand is shaky as he turns the page, finding it decorated with stickers and intricate doodles outlining the edges of the pages, the edges of the photographs, each of the three of them recounting what was going on in each picture, leaving their own commentary, witty and sarcastic and heartfelt, on each photo of him smiling, them as a group, him stargazing with Thomas, Him and Janus in the debate room, eyes flashing as they argue, him on stage, wearing safety goggles, Remus helping him with an experiment, him and Patton, decorating cookies, Roman dragging him through the imagination, to search for dragons, a thousand memories and moments and smiles, genuine smiles, all put in one place, all outlined with drawings, all filled in with their words and laughter and remembrances, and he’s shaking, again, a hand over his mouth as he puts the book aside, not wanting tears to stain the pictures, to smear the ink, he wants it to stay perfect and pristine forever, he hadn’t realized they were taking pictures, hadn’t realized they’d cared to memorialize his happiness, hadn’t realized that those moments meant just as much to them as they did to him. Hadn’t realized how much they meant it, when they said they truly, deeply, cared.
“Oh, kiddo. Can I?” Patton asks, arms open, and he nods, letting Patton sweep him up into a hug, letting himself squeeze back, breath hitching. “I love you so much, Ambition, and I’m so… I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of all you’ve done, and how far you’ve come, and much you pushed all of us to be better, you’re so good, Amby, you’ve always been the best of us. And I’m just… I’m so glad, to see you so happy, kiddo. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, for any of you, is to be happy. You’re a part of this family, kiddo, and we love you, we all love you, so, so much.” Patton murmurs, as he feels others joining the hug, surrounding him in warmth and arms and soft assurances from all sides, overwhelming him, with their support, their love, their affection. It’s everything, this is everything he’d ever hoped for, been too afraid to ask for, been denied, as Logan.
But this… they’d done this. All by themselves, they’d done this, they’d remembered, they’d gone out of their way, to do this for him, they’ve been doing it for the entire year, every day, and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s started trusting them again. That he wants this to truly be a new start, this, today, here, is the last bit of proof that he needed, to show him they mean it, they mean their words and promises about doing better, they mean their I love you’s and affection, they put weight behind their words, and followed through, and he thinks maybe it’s time he does the same.
So despite himself, he pulls away from the hug, smiling at the mild cursing that comes with the twins trying to disentangle themselves from around him, taking a moment to wipe away the tears from his eyes, to take a deep breath, to compose himself. His heart is pounding, irrational fear biting at his heels, and he thinks Janus understands, the leap of faith he is about to take, can sense what he is about to do, and he slips his hand into his to steady him.
“I… have something, I would like to say.” He says, softly, voice a bit tremulous, but the others all give him encouraging nods, and once again, he’s shocked at the difference between now and then, everyone staying silent, giving him space to speak, willing to listen. “I know this hasn’t been easy. I know… I know it hurt, in a lot of different ways, everything… everything that’s happened. But instead of pulling further away, this pulled all of us closer together, and I’m… I’m proud, of everyone, for it. You’ve all grown, so much, and I just… just thank you. Thank you for meaning it, when you said you would work harder, listen more, be better. Thank you for doing it, for showing it, for giving me, for giving each other, the room to grow. The support that was necessary, for that growth to happen.” He pauses, taking in a deep breath, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.
He realizes suddenly he’d never gotten a proper name reveal before. Before, when they all chose names, he just picked the easiest one to remember, he hadn’t seen a point, to personalizing it. And Patton had called him Logan in front of Thomas, thus accidentally stealing that moment from him, that choice, to share it or not. He’s never had to worry, about a reaction, about the weight of it, about the consequences. Then Janus squeezes his hand, and he exhales, looking up at each of them for a long moment, seeing the question, the hesitation, the dawning understanding where this is going, in Virgil’s eyes.
“So I think… I think it’s time we start over, properly. No more hiding. No more secrets. No more… titles. My name… my name is Cygnus Ambition Sanders.” He’s barely finished the sentence, when Patton is barreling into him once again, wrapping him in a tight hug, tears falling though he’s grinning hugely as he pulls away, eyes shining behind his glasses.
“Thank you. Cygnus, thank you.” Patton says softly, practically bouncing in excitement, the air radiating with his joy and delight and heart stopping love.
“It suits you, teach.” Virgil says simply, though he wears one of his rare, open, lopsided grins, eyes warm and soft as he looks at him, somehow warming his heart more, because he knows Virgil understands, what it means, how much it means, that he’s shared his name. Virgil has been there, in much the same position he himself is now in, and he relaxes slightly at his approval.
“Cygnus.” Roman murmurs, seemingly a bit dazed by the revelation, though the name sounds like music on his lips, making Cygnus’s ears burn red, as Roman sweeps him up, spinning and dipping him, a mirror of Remus this morning, god was it only this morning? And he remembers once more just how similar the twins are, though they’re both loathe to admit it. He laughs as Roman sets him upright once more, pressing close in a moment long hug, steady and firm and grounding. “thank you, Cygnus. You’re so brave, and we’re so, so lucky, to have you with us.” He murmurs, before stepping away. “See Remus! That’s how you do a dip!” He yells at his brother, who’s grinning ear to ear, laughing.
“But it’s so much more fun to drop them!” Still, Remus sweeps him into a hug as well before skipping off, trying to steal frosting off the cake, if Virgil’s indignant screech and subsequent pounding of footsteps chasing is anything to go by.
Janus pulls him close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head before leaning forwards until their foreheads touch, resting against each other, his hand stroking back a stray piece of hair, lingering against his cheek in a pleasant warmth.
“Proud of you, lovely. You’ve done so well, Cygnus, you really have.” He smiles, not pulling away.
“You know this doesn’t change anything, correct? I’m not moving back. I’m not leaving you and Remus. I will never.” He murmurs back, a promise, ringing with truth, and he feels some of the tension washing out of Janus.
“Of course. Now, let’s cut into that cake before Remus decides to shove the entire thing into his gaping maw.” He laughs, stepping back, letting Janus lead them back into the fray the party has become, smiling at the single candle atop the cake, Patton struggling with the lighter, before Virgil gently pries it away, lighting the candle in one go, despite muttering about it being a fire hazard and the whole house going up in flames, Janus wrangling the twins out of their chase to sing happy birthday, both of them trying to outdo each other with riffs, though they finally do actually finish the song together, harmonizing the last few lines.
Staring at the lit candle, at the joyful, expectant faces around him, Cygnus realizes he only has one single wish, as he blows out the candle.
As online content farms mature and their precariously-employed workforces grow up a little, there’s a whole rash of articles about being 29, and being about to turn 30.
Which is funny, because I’m turning 30 tomorrow. How on trend! (You’d expect nothing else, dear reader.)
“For my thirtieth, I orchestrated a madly glamorous celebration at the hottest restaurant in town, one of those downtown McNally places. It was a seated dinner for 20 at a table behind a pulled-back curtain on a slightly raised platform, which gave the diners a sense of being in a play. This was deliberate: In those days, restaurants were considered another form of New York theater. It was the height of the ‘80s, when New York was known as Fun City. In retrospect, it’s a bit astounding how decadent the party truly was. Each person at the table had had sex with at least two other people at the table; at least six people had cocaine in their pockets. Everyone smoked. No one was worried about the tab. I’m sure I wore something sequined and fantastic, because I remember feeling so happy that night.”
I AM NOT DOING THIS. AM I A FAILURE?
Though actually I totally could wear something sequinned. And I’ll construct the social graph of tomorrow night after the party.
“The physical symptoms of ageing don’t suddenly escalate when the clock strikes midnight on your birthday. And there’s no objective reason it should feel so much worse to reach a goal – to still be single against your will, say, or not to have bought a flat – the moment your age flips from 29 to 30.
Yet frequently it does”
Oliver Burkeman reports on research that shows you’re more likely to have an affair, run a marathon and commit suicide in birthday years that end in '9’, in some desperate attempt to tackle your increased awareness of your own mortality.
“My 29th year was when things started to click for me, personally and professionally. I finally found the courage to quit a job I’d long hated and leave a city I liked even less. I was still working really hard, but felt like I was finally gaining some traction. It was around age 29 that the number of fucks I gave about other people’s opinions dipped to critically low levels.”
[…] Writer Alice Munro once described your early 30s as “an age at which it is sometimes hard to admit that what you are living is your life.” I think that’s hard at any age. What gets easier with each passing decade, I suspect, is not comparing yourself to how other people are living their lives. As I age, I fully intend to give fewer and fewer fucks about how I’m supposed to be, or when I’m supposed to accomplish certain things. It frees up head space for the sort of creative thinking I’d rather be doing.
SHUT UP OKAY THAT MADE ME REALLY FREAKING SAD OKAY LOOK HOW SWEET AND CUTE HE LOOKS POOR BABY
i don’t even know this snake and i feel guilty for not being there
“It’s my birthday next week. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to organise people in London. We’re all so… not just busy, but tired. I can’t blame my friends but I feel for the snake. You and me both, mate.”
(Wrote this in August 2014. Saw it again today - and it happens to be my birthday tomorrow. The above still stands. Though my friends are now more busy than tired, I think. That’s better? Though they still never RSVP.)
Fingers crossed for no #snakefeels tomorrow, right?
Tracy Marrow, better known as Ice T is mostly celebrated for his rap songs concerning street life & violence. He has been an influential figure for the gangster rap genre. Highly controversial songs such as Cop Killer brought much fame to Ice T. He also pursued a career in acting, his most noteworthy character being […]
Today is Alfred E. Neuman’s birthday (1 April) and to celebrate this auspicious day I thought I would do a photoset with him as Robin with all the covers of MAD Magazine I could find, which wasn’t much, but more than I expected.
![neiru2013: Happy Birthday, Ai/kawa! (June 30) by 天鼠 [pixiv] [twitter] [website]*permission to repo](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0709ab4d7a64e40585d50d6905da795a/tumblr_ofbkhaG6o91r9xqnno1_1280.jpg "neiru2013: Happy Birthday, Ai/kawa! (June 30) by 天鼠 [pixiv] [twitter] [website]*permission to repo")
