G-bless it, you are worse than cool. All my nail polish color comes from a time before the magnetic Bradbury time of Apocalypse Now. I have no idea how to deal with the modern methods of nail art.
I might have to consult you on saber technique for my fic, here. Did a lot of research, but it doesn't hold a candle to actual real-life detail.
OMG. I can't believe how cool you are, and, I'm not buttering up.
I'm ice cold and probably should be defrosted? :P Lol, I am the worst when it comes to nails. Seriously, I cannot paint them or anything, I bought this little kit years ago with specialty brushes and whatnot for nail art and it did not come with talent or the patience to practice. SO. (butternut squash btw is not thrilling me. it's like, nearly my flesh-tone with a bit more pink and I wanted more of a dusky mauve)
I was wrong above - I fenced foil, epee and sabre. I own several rapiers (and they are commonly what is seen in movies), hence the brain fart. But yes, I can tell you a little about sabre. The biggest thing with it is that it can be flicked, so welts happen. You want sword FIGHTING though and I did FENCING which are 2 completely different things. One has rules, structure, etc, the other has combat.
I'm gonna write down that you said I was cool and send it to my brother :P he won't believe me.
LOL, I don't even bother with my nails anymore. It seems stupid to decorate the things I abuse. Too much yard work and living, you know?
Flesh-tone is incognito mode. My mother used it for years, and I never understood why.
Actually, fencing and fighting have many similarities. The thing about leaving welts... That's interesting. Very interesting. You'd think a saber as not all that flexible. You took my brain down a different path there, for which I'm thankful.
Yes, do tell your brother I think you're cool. Then, show him. It needs pointed out!
Ugh. Incognito mail polish is stupid. Note to self: do not get butternut squash color again.
Sabres aren't flimsy, they just have a tiny bit of give towards the end of the blade. The most common place to flick a person is the inside of their arm near the armpit. You can also hit a person anywhere on their body with a sabre in fencing (foil is torso only and epee is waist up) and it is considered the height of finesse to touch the tip of a person's foot or their fingers/hand. Girls often wear chest protectors when they fence. I never did and would get tiny bruises on my chest above my boobs.
My favorite thing to do (when I had nails and cared), was a black and white French manicure. At one point I did have some claws. Claws, I tell you. But, they're unsanitary in the health or food industry, and that's usually where I ended up working. Latex gloves don't like nails. Having worked in a mortuary environment, you probably know that. Just as an aside, I've always wished empty bottle were sold so you could hand mix colors.
I've watched so many videos about fencing and saber fighting, which a lot of people think are the same, and they are NOT. That's good info you gave me, there. I will use that. Cas is going to have to use that big ol thing on someone, eventually.
Oh yeah, back in my mortuary days I got a basic manicure with just buffing, didn't even bother with polish at all. Now I get gel because I can and it lasts 2-3 weeks, which is awesome. It is a little pricier than a regular manicure though.
My friend has a friend who hand makes nail polishes on etsy. I can get her info if you want.
Of course Cas will. I think Dean should learn, too. Because he has options now, it sounds like. And hakama pants. Definitely hakama pants.
My mother always said to take care of my hands. As I get older, I wonder how better off I'd have been if I hadn't known everything, and ignored her advice...
(Eye roll)
Same. It would have been the same.
Yeah, give me her link. I'm all for supporting people who make their own way in life.
Hmm. You just made me think about the story a different way. A good way. How sexy would it be to have Cas teach Dean how to fight HIS way?
Absolutely, when I get off work I'll see if I can track the info down!
Well, it's not like Dean could do it in kimono. I'm not entirely sure how he can ride a horse in a kimono tbh, all the ones I've ever worn have been much too tight in the thighs-knees. There are different types of hakama though, including gendered differences. I've never worn hakama, but they are kinda pants like without being quite pants. I think Dean would see them as a reasonable compromise.
Oh! I just realized. With all the winter in fen taven he might be forced to wear shoes! Poor Dean, no one likes frostbite.
I have written a few scenes in Tor-Valen in which is wearing a hakama (his favorite, white&black outfit), and that was one of the things that hacked off an early commenter. Still.
He's got drawstring or button-down trousers on under the kimono most days. For security. Yes, that kimono will ride up!
Yeah, Dean's gonna have to eventually get over his shoe hatred, lol.
I'm stoked! The Goodyear Blimp just serenely sailed over my neighborhood!
I thought there was already hakama in the story, but my brain is swiss cheese. Awesome! Yay pissing off readers! Woo-hoo! I approve. They can get over it.
I knew he at least had on underwear! Smart boy. I regularly wear dresses with ladies boxer-briefs underneath because I might have on a cute dress, but that doesn't mean I always remember to move like a lady :p
I have an hour left and a friend having a personal crisis, so whatever. (Also, I assume you did not get my last message on tor valen since you didn't reply or acknowledge)
It does that. What's REALLY fun is when it goes out at work and we sit there twiddling our thumbs (quite literally. we can't so much as make a phone call without the internet)
Oh yes. I used to do that, too.
She is flying to Peru tomorrow. Her mother lives there and is sick and the hospital won't release her without someone to care for her and IDK where her stepfather is or what is wrong with her mother. There's a language barrier, obvs. She spent most of the afternoon in the cube next to mine because our friend who works there is bilingual and he was talking to the hospital and whatnot for her.
It's alright. I just wanted to let you know my grandmother passed away (I know I mentioned her to you) 2 weeks ago tomorrow, on her 90th birthday. At her party between dinner and cake. 'Cause it's her party and she'll die if she wants to...
Jeez. Language barrier probably doesn't even cover it. People that don't get taught languages outside of English have NO idea. It might sound like Spanish, but it could be Portuguese, or any number of other languages with that tripping tongue. All poetic, IMHO, but wow, what a barrier.
Oh, dear heart. I suppose she died exactly how she wanted to live. That's honestly so awesome. Also, awesome of you, because you took her passing in the way most of us should. IOW, stop the selfish guilt, and celebrate the life.
That's why I choose to be happy-sad, if I can. It's harder, the closer that person was to you. I had to take a class called On Death when in my first year of college, and, though I did take something from it, I still have issues.
I don't think anyone is ever good with abandonment, even with the best excuse. Our view of things is so small, even when we try for otherwise. I guess that makes us all human.
I guess.
Some of us are better with it.
My g-ma died when I was in my twenties. She was born in 1905, and had seen telegraph, telephone, cars, trains, internet, yada-yada, by that time. And, you know? She never seemed surprised by human ingenuity.
But, I blame her for my fear of dying. Poor woman was so faithful, yet frightened, that one of the first songs she taught me was 'Put My Little Shoes Away'.
Yeah. It's exactly what it sounds like. Dead kid singing to Mamma.
Brrr.
To this day, the saddest thing I can think of, is children's shoes.
We did shots in honor of mine. And resurrected the story of her dancing on the speakers at my cousin Scott's Bar Mitzvah (baby Scott is being Bar Mitzvah'd next year so we threatened for his grandmother to reenact it!). My grandmother loved a party. So yes, she absolutely died how she wanted to.
I think for everyone, how close you are and the age you are when it happens plays a HUGE role in how you deal with it. For me, I'm well over 30, my grandmother was 90. Like...that's a good long life. She had 3 kids, 6 grandkids (4 married), 6 great-grand kids with another on the way....yeah, she did good, you know? It's sad because she's gone, but it's as I keep trying to explain to everyone - I was a Disney kid. It's the Circle of Life. I told that to the Rabbi (who is likely younger than me) and she laughed and thought that was awesome.
Oh, she was. She was. Good g-ma. I lived with her and my aunt for almost a year, to get away from the stifling atmosphere of being my twin's bodyguard. They were good to me. But, g-ma being obsessed with death, did a freakin number on me.
I would love to have the closeness of that religious, family contact that you have. My whole experience was a whole lotta superficial combined with dogma no one would explain with any vitality.
You get it? I mean, say what you mean, and mean what you say, but don't turn everything into an excuse to worship what you can't give me reasons for worshiping. It's why I am an Apologist. I'm not saying I'm right. Never that. I'm just saying, if you follow what your parents teach without being allowed to give a single, independent thought about it, then, your teachers aren't very secure in what they believe.
I'd really rather talk to a rabbi at this point, than a Protestant. Because, at least with a rabbi, I'd be ALLOWED to ask some questions.
Your cuz sounds a little cool. Actually, your g-ma sounds a LOT cool. 90 is, indeed, a good age to go. Mine was pretty close to that, when she went.
Circle of life. OMG. Yeah, I know. I was a Disney kid, too, sad as that is. That bigoted dude had a BIG influence on many generations.
When I was over 5 but under 10, my mom and dad slid us into a ditch to see the movie Sleeping Beauty. Snow everywhere.
I got to see the lame, bogus Lemmings movie Walt did, later.
I watched Old Yeller, and wanted to slit my wrists.
Bambi's mom!!!
I think we're better off without Disney. Yet, can't deny his impact.
Check out his Making of a Nazi film on YouTube sometime. It chills me to my freekin bones. I know I'm being manipulated, but it just DOES NOT matter.
Because, I think that's one of the WORST periods of our history. Hands down. And, even now, people like to ignore it, or say it didn't happen.
Obsession with death is Not Good. It prevents Living Life.
...I think I've misrepresented my family. This is my mom's family. Not very religious, TBH. I am sorta, but that's about it. And while we all live in 4 interconnected suburbs, I rarely see them outside of events like this. We're not that close. I don't even like them all that much really. One of my uncles in particular has been a special flavour of asshole these past several years.
In Judaism though, you are taught to question and are taught to understand WHY. It's important. Because like you said, blind faith without allowing questioning, is a very insecure, fragile thing. IDK if there are any synagogues where you live, but if so, check their websites for adult learning classes or lunch and learns. A lot of them have various ones and they're either free or do not cost very much to attend. We've had quite a few Christians come to the classes I went to.
I take Disney for what it was to me - cute, funny movies growing up. I know there is more to it than that, but I don't delve deeper and I am not one of those people who are obsessed with Disney as an adult. I've been to Disney World once when I was 11 on a family trip. That's about it. I'm good.
Let's not discuss the Holocaust deniers. I tend to get...shouty. And ragey. and really, it is already past my bedtime. I am a descendant of survivors. It will not be forgotten. Nor should any atrocity, lest it be repeated.
Not in my wildest insanity would I EVER ask you to face the survivor aspect of your heritage's tragedy. So SORRY if I that ever came across. OMG, not ever. And, this is NOT the PC version talking. Oh, wow. My family has so much Cherokee and Irish blood.
I am an American. I am a dog's breakfast of blood. My horse-stealing great, great grandfather, came here as a stowaway from England to escape persecution. I have tried and tried to find where he came from, but, he apparently either changed his name, or, lied about it.
I can't find much fault. I really can't. He's buried 2 miles from me, in an unmarked grave, in the back of a big old cornfield. Can't even visit the site, right now, because Monsanto owns it. Makes me want to kill.
My twin sent a cheek swab test to my dad a few years ago, coming back with the results that he's 4 % more European than modern Europeans. Which tells me quite a lot about my downward tines fork grandma on his side than I would otherwise know.
She died when I was 4.
Mom's side was always so much more accessible. Spaced out heavily, but more interested in reunions...
Dad's side is, and was, so invisible. Yet, his side was German, and ashamed of it. No mystery, there. They served as translators between the POW's that settled here, and their captors. For instance, those POW's loved American cigarettes, and would happily sing and work all day in the local gardens if someone would trade their harsher, German smokes, for the smooth, rich smokes from the tobacco that came from Virginia.
Not WV. No. But, the trade was in effect.
God, I weep at night when I think about those young boys, those boys who had no idea of the ideology they fought for, finding purpose in growing turnips. Because, they were happy to be away from blood and guns.
And, here, where I live right now, every time I dig to plant something, I am digging out Native American arrowheads, spear-heads, or dead bullets. Twice, now, I've had to call in the local authorities to assess bombastic crap in the garden. Two years ago, I had to call the authorities in because we dug up gasoline reserves buried in the ground in glass jars. OMG. Imagine hitting something like that with a plow.
So, no. I don't take light. I can't. My mom's side of the family had very little White heritage. For all they say...
But Dad's side?? Fucking horror show. And, old as he is, he's worse than aware. He's guilty. Can't help him, either. Happened prior to my birth. Can't even know where he's coming from, in the long run.
Mmmm. Cereal. I hate waking up. sleep is so wonderful.
Do not worry, you did not upset me, nor did I think you were making light. You know a lot about your family, for good or ill. It's impressive. A lot of people, they don't know/don't want to know. They sort of gloss over the bad stuff. I do not believe you should take responsibility for the actions of generations past if do your best to not continue oppressive behaviours, but EVERYBODY has a responsibility to do better than the previous generations and to acknowledge the mistakes of the past.
Some of my fave sayings are "sometimes you have to suck before you succeed" and "you can do everything correct and still fail" which is I think incredibly important to remember.
I will be thinking on that last one the entire time I mow today. Which is a good thing, because the monotony of mowing an acre of grass makes my brain... "Pudding!"
I have to wear a straw hat and carry water, or it would kill me to be out in this. Grass is the biggest waste of water, fertilizer, gasoline, and time, EVER. Status symbol, or whatever. Left to me, I'd plant clover and let the bees have all this grassy glory.
This is why I want a townhouse. Homie don't mow grass.
Growing up, it was my dad's chore and then later my brother's. Once, my dad had surgery and couldn't mow the yard and my brother wasn't big enough to do it yet so my mom did it. The following week, she hired a lawn service.
LOL. I was a tomboy, and I WANTED to mow the grass. I followed my dad around, helping him with the yard work. He, however, thought it would look bad to the neighbors if I mowed the grass, so he wouldn't let me.
I had to move in with my aunt for about 8 months, and she taught me how to mow. Independent woman, taking care of my grandma. I mowed a big old heart into the yard, and grandma's name under it.
I think your mom had the right idea. Good for her.
Yes. Feed the bees. The bees I used in Tor-Valen were based off of real bees discovered in an old church in England. Church bees, lol, for angel Cas.
Basically it's a fanfic in movie form. Channing Tatum is a human-dog hybrid disgraced soldier in eyeliner who wants his wings back. Jupiter is the poor immigrant house cleaner who dreams of a better life. In outer space.
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