"nisa tad-dar reali: Star ħass pressjoni tar-rappreżentazzjoni tal-Asja t'Isfel
Bejn il-ġlied, il-ħbiberiji u l-fama, il-ħajja ta’ Mara Reala tad-Dar tista’ tkun movimentata.
U b'The Real Housewives of New York City bħalissa qed jiffilmjaw l-istaġun 15, it-telespettaturi jistgħu jistennew li jagħtu ħarsa lejn il-ħajja tal-għonja u l-famuża tal-Big Apple.
L-istilla attwali Jessel Taank tkellmet mal-BBC Asian Network dwar l-esperjenzi tagħha li kienet l-ewwel membru tal-cast tal-Asja t'Isfel fuq ir-reality TV show.
""Ħassejt ammont immens ta 'pressjoni. Huwa tip ta' bħall-għajnejn kollha fuqek,"" tgħid.
""Irrid biss niffoka fuq li nkun jien stess u nirrappreżenta dak li jfisser għalija li tkun Indjan.""
Jessel tgħid li ma għenitx li ħassitha li ma kinitx mifhuma minn sħabha tal-cast.
In-nanniet tagħha twieldu l-Indja, aktar tard emigraw lejn il-Kenja u mbagħad marru Londra – xi ħaġa li tgħid li “kienet tassew konfuża” għal oħrajn fil-programm.
""Ħafna sħabi tal-cast ma fehmux dan,"" tgħid.
""Huma kienu konfużi għaliex kont mill-Afrika jew jassumu li minħabba li jien Indjan, trabbejt sinjur.""
""In-nies jassumu li l-Indjani huma riżervati""
Jessel jgħid li r-reġistrazzjoni tal-ispettaklu jista’ jkun stressanti, grazzi għall-pressjoni biex tinħoloq drama għat-telespettaturi.
""Qegħdin fuq programm televiżiv u naħseb li nara n-nisa jkunu super-sbieħ ma' xulxin mhuwiex verament divertenti, hux? Allura trid tgħolli s-sħana.
“Fil-wirja tiegħi lkoll għandna personalitajiet b’saħħithom ħafna u jista’ jkun hemm kunflitt kbir, allura jista’ jkun hemm tensjoni.
""Imma ovvjament irridu ngħollu u nkabbru dik l-emozzjoni għat-televiżjoni,"" tgħid.
Getty Images Il-kast tar-Real Housewives ta' New York City wieqfa mix-xellug għal-lemin - Brynn Whitfield, Erin Lichy, Sai De Silva, Jenna Lyons, Jessel Taank, Ubah Hassan. Qegħdin bilwieqfa fuq gallarija bis-skyscrapers ta’ New York viżibbli warajhom.Getty Images
Il-ħajja glamorous tar-Real Housewives se tkun tidher għall-istaġun 15
Bil-franchise ta’ Real Housewives ta’ Bravo magħrufa għall-klikks u l-ġlied tal-qtates, Jessel jgħid li l-midja soċjali tista’ tkun post tal-biża’ għall-kast.
“In-nies jinsew li l-ispettaklu huwa biss stampa ta’ ħajjitna,” tgħid.
""Pereżempju, fl-ispettaklu tkellimt dwar li ma ġejx minn sfond sinjur. U xi ħadd ħoloq websajt falza li ddikjarat li mort f'waħda mill-aktar skejjel tal-bniet elite f'Londra - li kienet gidba assoluta.""
Jessel tirrimarka li ħadmet bħala pubbliċista tal-moda u konsulent tad-ditta u issa tmexxi n-negozju tagħha stess - xi ħaġa li tiddistingwiha minn xi membri tal-kast preċedenti.
""Naħseb li n-nisa li dehru f'xi wirjiet l-oħra ta' Real Housewife ġejjin minn ġid ġenerazzjonali jew miżżewġin fih, u għalhekk jistgħu ma għandhomx kuntatt mar-realtà.
""Imma għall-ispettaklu tiegħi, waħda mill-akbar affarijiet li riedu l-produtturi kienet nisa li huma magħmulin lilhom infushom bi karriera eċċitanti u sfond interessanti,"" tgħid.
'Qisha Doctor Who taħt id-direzzjoni ta' Bugs Bunny'
L-ewwel J-Pop, imbagħad K-Pop - jista' jkun I-Pop li jmiss?
I Kissed a Girl kontestant dwar l-indirizzar tabù
Minkejja li jħoss sens ta’ pressjoni bħala l-uniku membru tal-cast tal-Asja t’Isfel, Jessel jaħseb li huwa pass importanti fl-industrija tad-divertiment.
""Naħseb li t-telespettaturi jħobbu ħafna d-dinamika li għandi mar-raġel tiegħi. Xi nies jassumu li l-Indjani huma riservati ħafna, iżda aħna verament miftuħa dwar ir-relazzjoni tagħna.""
Jessel tgħid li hi u l-familja tagħha rċevew kummenti dwar xi wħud mill-kwistjonijiet li tkellmet dwarhom fl-ispettaklu.
“Kif nitkellem dwar il-ġlied tar-riproduzzjoni u t-tqala u dawk it-tipi ta’ suġġetti tabù li mhumiex verament kondiviżi pubblikament u fi ħdan il-komunità tagħna.
“Naħseb li ħafna nisa Indjani jibżgħu partikolarment jitkellmu dwar suġġetti tabù fil-miftuħ.
""Allura l-fatt li kont qed nagħmel dan u li għamilha pjuttost miftuħ kien nisperaw li iġjeniċi u għen ħafna nies,"" tgħid.
linja
Logo tan-Netwerk Asjatiku
Isma 'l-ispettaklu ta' Ankur Desai fuq BBC Asian Network live minn 15:00-18:00 mit-Tnejn sal-Ħamis - jew isma' lura hawn.
https://www.bbc.com/news/newsbeat-69004896 —
L-Amazon Deals tal-lum (Afljat) -
https://amzn.to/3FeoGyg Li ssir Kattoliku jagħtik pedament sod għad-destin etern tiegħek. Il-fidi Kattolika tirrappreżenta l-aktar sistema ta’ ideat kumplessa, konsistenti u kompleta fost il-filosofiji kollha tal-umanità li jikkompetu. Huwa katidral veru tal-ħsieb uman. Il-Knisja Kattolika tgħallem li Alla tant iħobbna li bagħat lil Ibnu l-waħdieni biex imut għal dnubietna u jqum mill-ġdid għas-salvazzjoni tagħna. Billi nemmnu f’Ġesù Kristu bħala l-Mulej u s-Salvatur tagħna, nistgħu nirċievu l-grazzja t’Alla u ngħixu miegħu għal dejjem fis-sema. -
https://www.vaticannews.va/en.html Familja Dinjija ta’ Radju Marija -
https://www.radiomaria.org/world-family/ - “Radio Maria huwa rigal tal-Madonna. Permezz tal-programmazzjoni, kull prodott editorjali, u l-attivitajiet kollha tagħna, irridu nkunu radju ta’ talb u evanġelizzazzjoni b’impronta Marjana qawwija u sejħa għall-konverżjoni.” (Fr. Livio)
Radju Marija jwieġeb għall-istedina kontinwa ta’ Ġesù: “Mur fid-dinja kollha u ħabbar l-Evanġelju lil kull ħlejqa” (Mk 16:15).
It-temi ewlenin tal-ipprogrammar tagħna huma:
Talb;
Is-sejħa għall-konverżjoni;
Evanġelizzazzjoni;
Formazzjoni umana u soċjali;
Aħbarijiet mill-Knisja u mis-soċjetà.
VisitMalta: Ikseb l-informazzjoni kollha li għandek bżonn għall-vjaġġ tiegħek lejn Malta! Ibbukkja biljetti, skopri postijiet ġodda biex iżżur, sib affarijiet aqwa x'tagħmel u aktar! -
https://www.visitmalta.com/ Ċaħda ta' responsabbiltà: Dan is-sit huwa għal skopijiet informattivi biss u m'għandux jitqies parir legali [saħħa, taxxa, professjoni]. Aħna m'aħniex responsabbli għal kwalunkwe telf, ħsarat, jew obbligazzjonijiet li jistgħu jinqalgħu mill-użu ta 'dan il-blog. Dan il-blog mhux maħsub biex jissostitwixxi parir mediku professjonali. Il-fehmiet espressi f'dan il-blog jistgħu ma jkunux dawk tal-host jew tal-maniġment.
https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews https://sinomaltanews.freeforums.net/board/1/sinomaltanews "
"真正的家庭主婦:明星感受到南亞代表性的壓力
在爭吵、友誼和名譽之間,真正的家庭主婦的生活可能會很忙碌。
《紐約市的真正家庭主婦》目前正在拍攝第 15 季,觀眾可以期待一睹紐約富人和名人的生活。
現任明星 Jay Taank 向 BBC 亞洲網絡講述了她成為真人秀節目中第一位南亞演員的經歷。
「我確實感受到了巨大的壓力。就像所有人的目光都集中在你身上一樣,」她說。
“我只想專注於做我自己,並代表印度人對我意味著什麼。”
傑塞爾說,她覺得自己被劇組成員誤解了,這也於事無補。
她的祖父母出生在印度,後來移民到肯尼亞,然後去了倫敦——她說這對節目中的其他人來說「真的很困惑」。
“很多演員都不明白這一點,”她說。
“他們很困惑為什麼我來自非洲,或者認為因為我是印度人,所以我從小就很富有。”
“人們認為印度人是保守的”
傑塞爾說,由於要為觀眾創造戲劇性的壓力,錄製節目可能會有壓力。
「我們在電視節目中,我認為看著女人彼此超級友善並不是很有趣,對吧?所以你必須把氣氛調高。
「在我的節目中,我們都有非常強烈的個性,可能會發生大規模衝突,因此可能會出現緊張氣氛。
「但顯然我們必須提升和強化電視的這種情感,」她說。
《紐約市真正的家庭主婦》的演員陣容由左至右依序為:布林·惠特菲爾德、艾琳·利奇、賽·德·席爾瓦、珍娜·萊昂斯、傑塞爾·塔安克、烏巴‧哈桑。他們站在陽台上,身後紐約的摩天大樓清晰可見。
真正的主婦的迷人生活將在第 15 季上演
傑塞爾表示,布拉沃的《真正的家庭主婦》系列以拉幫結派和爭吵而聞名,而社群媒體對演員來說可能是一個可怕的地方。
「人們忘記了這部劇只是我們生活的縮影,」她說。
“例如,在節目中我談到自己並非來自富裕家庭。有人創建了一個虛假網站,聲稱我就讀於倫敦最精英的女子學校之一 - 這絕對是謊言。”
傑塞爾指出,她曾擔任時尚公關和品牌顧問,現在經營自己的企業 - 這使她與之前的一些演員有所不同。
「我認為其他一些《真實家庭主婦》節目中出現的女性確實來自世代財富或嫁入財富,所以她們可能與現實脫節。
「但對於我的節目來說,製片人最想要的事情之一就是白手起家、擁有令人興奮的職業道路和有趣的背景的女性,」她說。
“這就像兔八哥導演的《神秘博士》”
首先是 J-Pop,然後是 K-Pop - I-Pop 會是下一個嗎?
《我吻了一個女孩》參賽者挑戰禁忌
儘管作為唯一的南亞演員感到壓力,傑塞爾認為這是娛樂業的重要一步。
“我認為觀眾真的很喜歡我和我丈夫的動態。有些人認為印度人非常保守,但我們對我們的關係非常開放。”
傑塞爾說,她和她的家人收到了有關她在節目中談到的一些問題的評論。
「我如何談論生育和懷孕鬥爭以及那些在我們社區內沒有真正公開分享的禁忌話題。
「我認為很多印度女性特別害怕公開談論禁忌話題。
「所以我正在做這件事,而且是相當公開地做,這一事實希望能讓人耳目一新,並幫助很多人,」她說。
線
亞洲網路標誌
週一至週四 15:00-18:00 收聽 BBC 亞洲網絡直播 Ankur Desai 的節目 - 或在此處收聽。
https://www.bbc.com/news/newsbeat-69004896 —
今日亞馬遜優惠(聯盟)-
https://amzn.to/3FeoGyg 成為天主教徒將為您永恆的命運奠定堅實的基礎。天主教信仰代表了人類所有相互競爭的哲學中最複雜、最一致、最完整的思想體系。這是名副其實的人類思想大教堂。天主教會教導說,上帝如此愛我們,以至於祂派遣祂的獨生子為我們的罪而死,並為我們的救贖而復活。透過相信耶穌基督為我們的主和救主,我們可以接受神的恩典並與祂永遠生活在天堂裡。 -
https://www.vaticannews.va/en.html 瑪麗亞廣播電台世界家庭 -
https://www.radiomaria.org/world-family/ - 「瑪麗亞廣播電台是聖母的禮物。透過節目編排、每一份社論產品以及我們所有的活動,我們必須成為帶有強烈瑪麗亞印記並呼籲皈依的祈禱和福傳電台。 (利維奧神父)
瑪麗亞廣播電台回應耶穌不斷的邀請:「你們往普天下去,向萬民傳福音」(谷16:15)。
我們節目的主題是:
禱告;
呼籲轉變;
傳福音;
人類和社會的形成;
來自教會和社會的新聞。
VisitMalta:取得馬耳他之旅所需的所有資訊!預訂門票、發現新的遊覽地點、發現令人驚奇的事情等等! -
https://www.visitmalta.com/ 免責聲明:本網站僅供參考,不應被視為法律[健康、稅務、職業]建議。我們對因使用本部落格而可能產生的任何損失、損害或責任不承擔任何責任。本部落格無意取代專業醫療建議。本部落格所表達的觀點可能不代表主持人或管理階層的觀點。
https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews https://sinomaltanews.freeforums.net/board/1/sinomaltanews "
Here we are again in the shit stew that is the Fallowveil trailer park. We’ve got soul eating strippers, jobs that kill us, and plenty of weirdos, both the trailer trash and the potentially paranormal variety. It’s the place where even your own computer sometimes threatens to kill you. I can’t tell if I should be worried, or annoyed that all my neighbors have such irresponsible web habits. I know it’s not me that brings in all these machine wiping viruses.
So even though I got a system error that literally said “you’re useless and you should die” I’m less interested in that. Stupid thing. Like I don’t already know I’m useless. That’s not what I’m depressed about.
Well… I suppose it's tangentially related.
I hope anyone reading will forgive me. I’m feeling the sting of rejection right now. It was really stupid of me to ask. Especially now. Nobody here really likes me. They’ve only been nice to me as a courtesy because I was almost involved in a god damn shootout. And my idiot self decided that was the perfect time to push one of my few friends all the way away. Never ask your friends out on dates. It ruins everything.
So there’s this woman. I’ve talked about her in the past. Trista Ramone. She lives in the far back corner of the trailer park. You can instantly tell which unit is hers because she’s covered every square inch of the property with gardens and a rabbit hutch. The place usually has beads and colorful flags hanging on its walls as well. She’s kind of a right winger’s nightmare. I know some of those flags represent various lgbtq plus communities.
She and I have been friendly in the past. We’re both night shift workers. We crossed paths quite a bit going to and from work so we struck up a friendship over the years.
Let’s just ripped the band aid off. Recently I’ve started thinking I had… stronger feelings for Trista. I got stupid and decided to tell her about them. She wasn’t interested. I get why. We have very different lifestyles. I like meat, and she thinks the meat industry is murder. I’m not willing to give up meat, and she’s not willing to give up her beliefs. It's as simple as that. Now things are incredibly awkward with one of my closer friends and I’m still spiraling into self loathing, where I belong.
She swore up and down that she absolutely still wants to be friends with me, but I’m not sure I believe her. The look she gave me when I told her I’d like to ask her out. It looked like sadness, but a small part of me is convinced it was pity, or worse, disgust and loathing, and that small part gave me ever shuts the fuck up. But anyway, she gave me permission to write about her.
She is one of the creepy fixtures of our little neighborhood after all. She told me to make her seem as insane and scary as I possibly could and that she should get to kill me at the end. She also handed me a few of her high school yearbooks, advised me to chat with another neighbor of ours who she went to school with, and to only use creepy rumors for the rest.
Part of me is really willing to describe her as awful, but that’s just my anger. I don’t like that part of me. Trista’s not a bad person at all. She’s just weird and she doesn’t want to date me. God damn it, Petunia’s right. I need therapy.
So, I’ve told the story of the sexy, scary lady living in a polycule here in the trailer park. I think she’s got a bigger heart than she lets on. I’ve talked about the stories surrounding the Schroeder Slaughterhouse. Now let’s talk about the hippy everyone thinks is a vampire.
She’s a taller woman, maybe five-seven or eight, and she’s skinny. Her typical wardrobe is… interesting. Try to imagine your typical new-age hippy/stoner girl, wearing colorful sarongs, crop-tops, beanies, baggy sweaters, T-shirts with colorful sayings on them, sandals, boots woven from some sort of exotic plant, beaded necklaces, bracelets, a few too many piercings and some intricate tattoos. Can you picture that kind of person? Well, take that and dip them in “goth” dye. Everything is black, and contrasts to her pale white complexion, her eyes are this unusual violet color, and then make the woman wearing all that seem kind of depressed about something. That’s the look Trista has going on. Like if Wednesday Addams was forced to dress up for Hippy Day.
I’ve heard people call her an emo vampire, but as a former emo myself, she doesn’t fill out all the criteria. She doesn’t typically wear any super tight pants or cake on the eyeshadow. I guess she’s just Trista. It might sound weird (and it is) but the whole thing suits her. Her style, tattoos, and complexion all create this image of skinny vampiric waif with a mysterious past and a freaky sarcastic attitude and I found the whole thing… kinda hot.
Trista keeps to herself. She’s made the most out of her little corner of the trailer park. Like I said, she decked out her unit with garden squares, and a Rabbit pen. No idea why she’s allowed to do that. A lot of these places don’t allow pets. I heard she was also trying to put in a beehive too, but her neighbors are fighting her on that one. Our park is a bit too condensed for bees. She has a permit to grow hemp, but of course it’s not for recreational use. She treats it and uses it to weave things like handbags, clothes, and other stuff. There’s a consignment store in town that sells all kinds of things Trista has crafted herself. So she’s handy and self sufficient too. She paints, she carves wood, she weaves, she crochets, she sews, and who knows what else. She’s so good at her little crafts that apparently she’s able to support herself just selling them and working part time at the Moonlight Inn outside of town.
She’s also relatively friendly. I almost feel bad calling her weird, but here’s the thing, I’ve seen some REALLY weird shit. People jokingly call her a vampire, and she seems to embrace that, but part of me seriously wonders. The big clue is, like I mentioned, she’s completely nocturnal. She’s always asleep during the day, and every blind and curtain is drawn tight. The one time she came out during the day, she had on this full body suit with a helmet with UV glass and everything. Even then, she only showed up to give Petunia a hug, before leaving again.
That was the first time I saw Trista, come to think of it. I was kind of intrigued. It was kind of hard not to be when someone shows up to a community cookout in a freaking astronaut suit. I approached Petunia after she left.
“Who the heck was that?” I wondered.
“MASON! I’m so glad you could make it! You’ve been here about three months now! How’d that job interview go?”
“Oh. It went well. I might be doing janitorial work soon.”
“Night shift?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“If it’s the night shift, you’ll definitely meet the person who just left. That’s Trista. She’s the girl with the rabbits in the far corner. Poor girl. She’s got a really bad skin condition. Can’t let sunlight touch her.”
“Oh. Is she like… albino or something?”
“No, she’s got pigment. I don’t remember what the condition is called. I guess it started in high school or something. You’d have to ask her. And hey! If you work the night shift, you’ll probably get to chat with her!”
Petunia wasn’t wrong. I started working as a nighttime janitor for a number of local businesses. That was when I first started noticing the pale goth hippy. She rides around on a moped, with her dark hair and her sarong barely billowing behind her. I couldn’t see her face through the helmet, but she waved to me as she passed by.
The next time I saw her, she was jogging, but here’s where it gets weird. When I first stepped outside, all I saw was a blur. It actually startled me as I whipped toward it, but then there was this skinny tattooed pixie, somehow still looking like a stonehippy/vampire in jogging gear. I swear she was moving inhumanly fast when I first noticed her. That was when we introduced ourselves. She actually jogged over to say hello.
“Hey! You’re the new guy right?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. My name’s Mason!” I reached out to shake the pretty girl’s hand, like an awkward loser. She smirked and shook my hand. Her grip was weirdly strong, and a bit cold.
“I’m Trista. I’m the weirdo in the back with the rabbits.”
“Trista… oh, are you the one who has a thing with sunlight? I think Petunia mentioned you.”
“Yup! That’s me. Xerodoma pigmentosum. Sunlight hurts. I hate that it hurts.” She lamented.
“That’s gotta be rough,” I said sympathetically.
“You get used to it. You work at night?”
“Yeah. Works better for me.”
“I get that.”
And so on and so on. She’s pretty cool, with a bit of hilarious snark in there. And she secretly procured recreational weed she was willing to share. I kept working the night shift just hoping for another chance to talk to her and possibly buy a joint. Eventually she invited me over to share a joint. The inside of her place was actually pretty sparse and spartan compared to the outside. Though she was a fan of hanging beads. Most of the main room was taken up by her various crafting projects and supplies. Hemp weaves, some paintings, and even a wood carving of what I think was a rabbit, but it wasn’t anywhere near complete.
I followed her to her kitchen where she reached into the very back of her pantry and pulled out a shoebox. Inside was her stash, but there was something else which I found very strange. It was a pack of syringes and a thing I assume is to sterilize syringes. I know what you’re thinking, and that was my first thought too. It’s a poor neighborhood, the woman already smokes weed illegally, it’s not that big a shock that maybe she was involved in other drugs too. I decided not to ask at the time. We shared our joint, and we laughed, a lot. She made fun of me for being a lightweight, while I got completely hypnotized staring at the patterns of a shawl she had woven.
Months went by and we got closer, but I couldn’t forget those syringes. After a while I got worried. I’ve seen what heroine does to people. So the next time I went over to smoke and eat (vegan) pizza with her, I asked.
“Trista? Are you using anything other than weed?”
“Drugs?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Why?”
“You can tell me if you are.”
“Mason, sweetheart, I’m a stoner. I don’t fuck around with anything else and I never have.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay. Can I ask what that set of syringes are for?”
“Oh. In my stash box? Those are… part of my condition. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh. Is it like… embarrassing?”
“Yeah. So don’t ask. Can we just watch a movie?”
So I don't ask anymore. But I still have no idea what she does with those syringes. Based on what I read about that Xerodoma Pigmentosum thing she says she has, I have no clue what she would need to inject herself with.
Another time she asked me to check on her rabbits for her during the day, as her usual “sitter” had something come up. All I had to do was chop up the lettuce and carrots she left out. As I was enjoying the adorable fluffy faces, one of Trista’s neighbors, a woman named Bridget, poked her head outside her door.
“Hey. Do you know what Trista injects those rabbits with?”
“I… what?”
“I’ve seen her use syringes on those rabbits. She said she was just giving them medicine, but I swear I see her inject them every week.”
“I… I wouldn't know. She just asked me to feed them.”
“I love Trista, but that always seemed so weird. She has to know vaccines are a hoax!” I tuned the woman out after that one. My mind was on that set of syringes. Why would she be using them on rabbits? These things were her pets.
I was starting to crush on her by then. But I couldn’t help feeling weirded out by that. I was actually going to confront her, but the next time I came to visit, she was literally inside the Rabbit hutch, on her back, squealing with delight as her rabbit friends nuzzled and played with her.
“Bonnibelle! That tickles! Marcy! No chewing. Finn? Watch where you’re sticking that foot! Jake? Where are you? EEEEE Lumpy! Not the neck!”
It was as silly and adorable as it sounds. She was forced to whip herself upright when two of her little friends tried to burrow under her dress. She finally stood up with a laugh, cradling a rabbit in her arms and cooing at it.
There was just no way in hell this woman was doing anything that would hurt these animals. Bridget is a paranoid antivax weirdo anyway. If Trista was using syringes on the rabbits, I was convinced it was only for their benefit.
So life went on. I got more and more reclusive over the years. Petunia, Trista, and my next door neighbor Fred were the only things keeping me remotely connected to the outside. And so we get to now. So let’s see. What are the stories about the weird vampire woman?
Well, there’s the fact that she jogs at night, solo, in a poor neighborhood. Petunia keeps the shitty people contained and behaving for the most part, but I still wouldn’t exactly call it safe, especially for a young skinny woman. But she does it without a care in the world.
There’s one strange event that some people like to connect to this. I never knew this guy, but from what I hear he was a total weirdo who leered at anyone even remotely female. And this is despite the fact he was married. His name was Josh.
I remember him a bit. He’s the guy that Petunia chased away from one of her barbecues. Supposedly he was heard saying inappropriate things to the groups of ten year old girls that were playing in the bounce house Petunia rented. Telling them how pretty they were. Trying to coax them to take off their jackets. Police reports were filed but ultimately nothing could be proven. The guy's wife, Carole, always defends him for some reason.
But anyway, I remember hanging out with Trista one night a little over a year ago. She hadn’t gone jogging like she normally did. I asked her what was up with that.
“That weirdo, Josh has started catcalling when I pass his place. It weirds me out.”
“There aren’t other people who do that at night? I’m still shocked you jog alone.”
“Not like this. I can flip off a wolf whistler. But this guy… he keeps trying to get me to stop and talk to him, and when I don’t? He shouts about my ass. I’m gonna have to talk to Petunia about that shithead, if anybody can reign him in, it’s her.”
I’m gonna guess she never got a chance. Two days later, the whole town was awoken by sirens. I was getting ready for my shift when I heard them. I walked down the road a bit to see if I could figure out what was going on. The cops were heading toward the other side of the park, so I couldn’t see much. But I did notice Trista, in her jogging gear, skulking in the shadows. I wondered if she was in trouble. But before I could call out to her, she sprinted straight to Petunia's house and banged on the door. Petunia welcomed her inside, and that was all I saw. I still wasn’t sure what was going on, so I just shrugged and headed to work, figuring I’d text Trista later.
I didn’t learn till later that Josh was found dead. He was lying prone, face down, partly hidden by bushes at the edge of the park. His neck was cut open. He’d bled out rapidly. He had a knife in his hand, and officially it’s believed he fell on it and accidentally killed himself. There was a cocktail of drugs in his system so most people accept that explanation. But others swear they saw Trista out for her jog around the same time Josh would have been bleeding to death. She got questioned, and she swore she didn’t see anything. Without evidence, there was nothing else that could be proven.
Trista’s a friend. I know that guy was being creepy to her. So I’m happy to take her word for what happened, even if my seeing her going to Petunia’s pokes a bit of a hole in that. I can’t be sure it was Trista though. So I’m not saying a word. But if a certain creep attacked a certain lady who is rumored to be a vampire, it’s not that surprising to me that he ended up dead after bleeding to death. I’m not all that broken up about it.
I’m not the one spreading that story. Josh’s wife was the one who started the rumor. So now some people are even more convinced that the weird nocturnal hippy chick is secretly a vampire.
She’s no killer. No matter what they say. She would only have defended herself.
So that’s all the stories I’ve heard that have any credibility to them. There’s more people who swear she and Petunia perform weird rituals, and people who saw her moving “inhumanly fast” and such.
But now I have to share what I found in the yearbooks Trista gave me. I wasn’t really expecting much. I checked her senior yearbook out first. She looks about the same. Pale, goth, hippy, and sort of sad. She kind of looks even sadder in these photos if I’m being honest, but that’s high school for you. She graduated in the top half of her class, no sports or extracurriculars. I’m left wondering how she managed to go to school at the time of sun was so bad for her. I’ll have to ask her about that. So nothing really new there.
It was the yearbook from her junior year where things got really interesting. I was in shock when I found her. Trista is somehow impossible to miss, but unrecognizable all at once. She’s full of color! She wore more typical tie dye hippy attire. Bright vibrant pinks, reds, blues, greens, and yellows, in every photo, and holy shit was she busy. Captain of the soccer team, first chair flutist, president of the “green living” club and the “vegan alliance,” top ten in her class, it was all incredible. I think the main reason I didn’t recognize her was her skin. It was tan, as though she were out in the sun a lot. Furthermore there were photos of her playing sports and standing outside in bright sunlight.
It was like her disease wasn’t there, which confused me. She told me it was something called Xeroderma Pigmentosa. But that’s a genetic condition. She would have had that from birth.
I sent her a text, wondering about this.
- Hey! Just went through your yearbooks. What happened? You had color? Did you discover Linkin Park? - My disease happened. Right at the end of Jr. year. That’s why I wasn’t there for the final class photo. - But your disease is genetic… isn’t it? - I guess it was dormant in me. - So it just… happened? - Pretty much. - I’m sorry. - I got over it. Mostly. It was hard. My parents were both hardcore vegan naturalists and we lived in a place that was all natural light and such, so I had to live in a shed for a bit while they built a space for me. But in my family? We kinda lean into whatever life throws at us. It took months of depression to come to terms with it. All of a sudden I couldn’t be out in the sun, and I had new dietary needs that absolutely required non-vegan sources. So I leaned into it. I was a vampire now. I can dig dark colors and “vampire style.” I could make it my own by avoiding leather. And I’d be as vegan as I possibly could. - You’re kind of awesome. - Damn straight. So I learned to love the night too and now, here I am. I gained new respect for her after that. Frankly I feel kinda shitty about making fun of her for being a vampire. There might not be anything paranormally weird about her after all.
She sent me one more text telling me I should talk to a guy named Frankie. She’d gone to school with him. He’s a decent enough guy. Works in the Bicounty mall in town.
I had to wait a day or two for another of Petunia’s get togethers to talk to him.
“Hey!” I said awkwardly as I tried to figure out how to strike up conversation with someone I haven’t really spoken to in a long time. “Frankie, right?”
“Oh. Yeah. Been a while. How are you Mason? You okay after that whole thing at Red Nights?”
“I’m trying to be. Look, I’ll cut to the chase. You went to school with Trista Ramone, right?”
“Ol’ Boho Ramone? Yeah. We were sort of friendly. But I was a jerk to vegans back then. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been hanging out with her. She’s being all mysterious.” He chuckled at that. “She said I should talk to you to learn more about her… weirdness? Everyone thinks she’s a vampire now.”
“She’s totally a vampire. I have no idea what else to call her?”
“Why do you say that?”
“What did she tell you about school?”
“Nothing. She just showed me two yearbooks. Between Junior and Senior year she went from colorful club president, to lonely vampire, because of her disease.”
“Nah man. I don’t want to talk bad about her. But she was kind of a bitch, junior year. She wasn’t just a colorful vegan. She was one of those “holier than thou” types who scoffed and talked down to anyone who dared to eat meat. Her “hippy” thing meant she never hung out with the popular girls but still, she acted like she owned the place at times. I was friends with this weird guy named Steven Jones. He was just kind of a weirdo. Skulking around in the background, you know? He HATED Trista. For a while I totally understood. I thought she was kinda stuck up. But this guy was like… irrationally enraged by that girl’s existence. I guess he tried to ask her out when he was a freshman and she politely declined. But he took that shit personally.”
“Huh. So like… why’s that matter?”
“Because Steven kept saying to anyone who gave him a second look, that he was gonna ‘ruin’ her. Never elaborated. But then the last month of school rolls around, Trista gets assaulted by an unknown assailant and a week later she’s got this new disease. Meanwhile, Steven spent a week strutting around the school looking smug, and saying ‘she got what she deserved.’ Then he disappears too. Teachers said he moved away.”
“She was assaulted?”
“Yeah. Someone in a face wrap tackled her while she was at one of her protests at the meat factory. The dude freaking BIT her.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. I was there. I came to the protest. I’ll admit I was trying to hit on Trista or one of the other girls there. But yeah. Dude dressed in all gray with a face wrap just charged in and went right for Trista. Knocked her down, bit her like a freaking zombie, then ran away before anyone could stop him. Didn’t even take his face wrap off. It was freaky, man.”
“What the actual fuck.”
“That’s what we all said. Trista needed a stitch. But while she was at the hospital, I guess she started getting more symptoms. She was out for the rest of the year. From then on, she was like she is now. Total vampire.”
“Was Steven a vampire?”
“I dunno. Probably. Little dickhead is what he is. Must have been him that attacked Trista, but nobody could prove it. Bite mark didn’t match or something. So why are you asking? You hang out with her at night right? You asking her out or something?”
“Oh. No. Just a friend.”
That was all I really learned from Frankie. It’s quite a story, and it’s full of unknowns that Trista refuses to explain. So I guess I’ll let readers be the judge. Is she a “real” vampire? Or just a weirdo? All I know is, she’s totally standing behind me right now and now I’m dead. Bleh.
I did come back to life to talk to Trista once I finished writing this. She enjoyed it. I may as well include that interaction.
I went to her place on my night off. She read my take on her and what the neighbors thought and she grinned. “Ha! I’m a total monster!” She chuckled. “So. What do YOU think, Mason? Am I a vampire?” She cocked an eye and playfully gnashes her teeth at me, making a pleasant little click.
I sighed. “No idea. You’re Trista. And… you’re my friend. I’m sorry if I made things awkward.”
She looked surprised by that. “Aw. Thanks Mason. You’re my friend too. It’s okay. I’m flattered.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“So we’re cool?”
“Absolutely not. We’re both weird shut ins.” She laughed. It was good to hear her laugh. It made me happy.
“Yeah but I got the ‘mysterious vampire’ thing going.”
“You have dirt in your hair from rolling around with bunnies. And you’re a vegan.”
“Bite me.”
“Says the vampire.”
“You know, if I were a vampire, I could have bitten you when we both went to the slaughterhouses a few weeks ago.”
“That just makes me stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Mason. You’re not a loser either.”
“So. You know of any other good spooky town stories that I can do next?
“Oh, sure. You ever heard the tale of Salome? She was a witch who would mash up the seeds of a Sinapis Alba plant to make a diabolical potion she’d dump on herself. They called her the ‘Witch of the Sands.’”
I’m embarrassed to admit it took me four days to realize Trista was just fucking with me. I only figured it out when I looked up Sinapis Alba and learned that mashing the seeds just makes mustard. “Salomi the sand-witch.” Well played, vampire hippy…
Sexy Neighbor Haunted Slaughterhouse J'ai besoin de partager. J'étais un enfant( 0-12 ans) joyeux, sociable, curieux et touche a tout. J'essayais pleins d'activité extrascolaire comme le foot, les roller , le basket, le handball, tire a l'arc, poterie, saxophone, skate etc etc.. Tout ces activité on eu le même schémas, J'étais très bon très vite mais, après 6 mois ou 1 ans j'abandonne a cause d'une difficulté rencontrée ou je ne satisfaisait pas mes attente de progression. A l'école j'essuyais échec sur échec a cause d'un grosse dyslexie dysorthographie non diagnostiqué a cette époque, même si je travaillais des heures et des heures mes notes restaient catastrophique. Puis, l'adolescence est arrivé (13-17ans) Et avec elle des comportements autodestructeurs. Je ne travaillais plus du tout a l'école car même si j'essayais, j'échouais, encore et encore. J'ai commencé à fumé à 13 ans (weed et tabac), à 14 ans je buvais de l'alcool fort avant d'aller en classe. C'est aussi a cette époque que les idées noir on commencé a germer dans ma tête petit à petit en même que mon éstime de moi disparaissait. J'ai encore essayer d'autre activités elle ont suivis le même schéma. Mais j'étais encore heureux, j'avais une copine et des tonnes d'amis. A la fin de ma scolarité obligatoire (15 ans j'ai redoublé) tout a changé, mes notes ne me permettait pas de continuer les études. Je devais donc me former un métier manuel. Menuiserie, cuisine, vendeur, pâtisserie, j'ai commencé pleins de formation et j'essuyais autant d'échec, encore et encore. Les idée noir grandissais, les amis disparaissait, j'était seul désespéré et incapable de faire quoi que ce sois. J'ai commencé a me renfermer sur moi-même. Je ne sortais plus, je jouais a des jeux tout le temps, je buvais et fumais de plus en plus. J'étais en dépression, avec une image de moi détruite je pensais a ma mort plusieurs fois par jours pendant environ 2 ans. Vers 19 ans tout a changé subitement ou presque. Mes parents qui s'inquiétait grandement, m'on inscrit a un cours de théâtre. J'y est rencontré pleins de nouvelle personnes petit à petit ma dépression c'est entrée et j'arrivais de nouveau a sortir a rire et a avoir un semblant de bonheurs, mais quelque chose avais changé, j'était souvent anxieux avec les gens, je me voyais en permanence comme la pire des merde. Un ans plus tard a 20 ans donc, l'atelier de théâtre prends fin, je n'ai toujours aucune foutue idée de ce que je vais faire mais je me sentais un peux mieux, principalement par ce que j'avais une copine génial et a nouveau des potes. Mes parents me soulais. J'ai claqué la porte pour aller faire une colloc avec mes nouveau pote et ma copine. S'en ai suivi 2 année de débauche et de petit job pour payer les débauches. la découverte de pleins de nouvelle drogue de grosse soirée tout les week-end et en semaine, je buvais de plus en plus et ma consomation de drogue devenais vraiment énorme. J'ai une tonnes de souvenir incroyable de ces soirée.. C'était des dingeries, tout les soirs. Tout a explosé en un mois. Mon colloc pétais mes plombs a cause des drogues. Ma copine allais bientôt changer de pays. A 22 ans j'allais me retrouvé a nouveau seul sans aucun plan d'avenir. J'étais de plus en plus anxieux socialement. J'ai renoué contact avec mes parents avec la réel volonté de trouvé ma voie et de ne pas mal finir. A force de faire des petits jobs, j'avais peut-être trouvé un nouveau métier à essayer après 2 ans de divers stage. J'ai commencé une formation dans la technique de spectacle. J'ai passé la première année pour la toute première fois sans essuyer un echec puis la 2ème etc. Aujourd'hui je suis sur la fin de mes 26 ans. J'ai encore du mal a rire conscient d'avoir pas tout régler. Mes examen finaux commence dans un mois. Je suis absolument terrifié de mon futur si j'échoue. Je me renferme a nouveau sur moi même, je ne révise pas, persuadé que je vais encore échouer. Je suis au moment clef de ma vie, et je suis paralysé par la peur.
Merci d'avoir lus, et désolé pour les fautes
J'ai (F28) toujours eu cette image des séries américaines où les parents interdisent toute relation amoureuse à leurs enfants tant que ces derniers n'ont pas quitté la maison. Vous savez, l'obligation de laisser la porte de la chambre ouverte, voire interdire aux personnes de genre opposé de monter à l'étage.
Comme je n'ai jamais eu de relations amoureuse et que je n'avais pas d'amis qui auraient pu en avoir, je n'ai jamais pu observer le comportement des parents pour ces choses là dans la vraie vie. Actuellement, je vis toujours avec mes parents mais nous n'avons jamais abordé ces sujets là. Ma sœur a clairement dit à notre mère que si elle avait une relation amoureuse, elle refuserait de nous le faire savoir. Comme mes parents sont du genre à dire "Vous avez le droit de faire ceci en théorie, mais en pratique là c'est différent", je ressens toujours une forme d'interdiction, vu que les séries ont toujours été ma seule référence.
Je voulais donc savoir quels ont été les avis de vos parents sur ces sujets, s'il vous demandaient de faire comme vous vouliez à condition qu'ils restent ignorants de la situation, qu'il n'en aient pas la preuve et qu'ainsi subsiste le bénéfice du doute.
Hi! I look at very large excel sheets and I’m looking for a way to automate a process. Basically the sheet is a before and after for code locations. I will link an example image of the sheet. I’m looking for a way to identify lines in red that do not have a corresponding green line (the code was removed but not added anywhere). Is there a macro that I could write to help me identify that? It’s not the same as a de-dup because there will be codes that are green with no red counterpart and that is fine.
Thanks in advance!
I am 62, my wife is 58. We have both worked with our bodies most of our lives, and are in great physical shape. We have been married since youths in a high control, culty religion. We have both since left that group. I love my wife dearly, we rarely have any arguments, and get along well. I have never held the patriarchal view of woman. I always viewed her as an equal partner in all aspects of life. She gets my full attention, and respect, as she should. We are both still non denominational Christians. We have good sex more than 3 days a week. We have never defiled our marriage by stepping out, so no betrayal whatsoever, strong emotional bond between us. Our bedroom has a series of no-no's. No cunnilingus, no toys, no missionary (she panics being enclosed), no fingering her beyond 5 minutes. She likes on top, and will do doggy style, but doesn't like me looking at her asshole. Her only attempt at masturbation was falling asleep with a carrot inside her. Broke my heart when I heard about it years later. She also told me she got one of her older phones infected with porn, again years later. Never masturbated, never orgasmed. I can see the exact moment the clit rubbing is over, on her face. She says it's a panic attack/image of me touching her!? she gives oral on a regular basis, but is disgusted by the idea of me returning the favor, I have practically begged. Shit, bringing her to finish with my hand would be very satisfying to me. I don't want any other woman, only her. Even old make ego's are tender, it feels like rejection, and my feelings for her are changing. We have not been physical since I spoke my mind again on the subject nearly a week ago. I asked her "if she masturbated since the above carrot attempt". She replied "no" I opined "How can I be expected to satisfy you, if YOU don't know how to"? I said in anger "you are like a dead fish down there". She knows my touching her is a huge turn on to me, and is part of our nearly always successful forplay routine. She wants to go back to our old routine!!! I don't want to touch her vagina, it went from the most beautiful thing in the world, to a source of pure frustration and rejection. I NEED A WOMAN'S PERSPECTIVE ON THIS!
I am 62, my wife is 58. We have both worked with our bodies most of our lives, and are in great physical shape. We have been married since youths in a high control, culty religion. We have both since left that group. I love my wife dearly, we rarely have any arguments, and get along well. I have never held the patriarchal view of woman. I always viewed her as an equal partner in all aspects of life. She gets my full attention, and respect, as she should. We are both still non denominational Christians. We have good sex more than 3 days a week. We have never defiled our marriage by stepping out, so no betrayal whatsoever, strong emotional bond between us. Our bedroom has a series of no-no's. No cunnilingus, no toys, no missionary (she panics being enclosed), no fingering her beyond 5 minutes. She likes on top, and will do doggy style, but doesn't like me looking at her asshole. Her only attempt at masturbation was falling asleep with a carrot inside her. Broke my heart when I heard about it years later. She also told me she got one of her older phones infected with porn, again years later. Never masturbated, never orgasmed. I can see the exact moment the clit rubbing is over, on her face. She says it's a panic attack/image of me touching her!? she gives oral on a regular basis, but is disgusted by the idea of me returning the favor, I have practically begged. Shit, bringing her to finish with my hand would be very satisfying to me. I don't want any other woman, only her. Even old make ego's are tender, it feels like rejection, and my feelings for her are changing. We have not been physical since I spoke my mind again on the subject nearly a week ago. I asked her "if she masturbated since the above carrot attempt". She replied "no" I opined "How can I be expected to satisfy you, if YOU don't know how to"? I said in anger "you are like a dead fish down there". She knows my touching her is a huge turn on to me, and is part of our nearly always successful forplay routine. She wants to go back to our old routine!!! I don't want to touch her vagina, it went from the most beautiful thing in the world, to a source of pure frustration and rejection. I NEED A WOMAN'S PERSPECTIVE ON THIS!