#party

I think the ideal is being in a smaller city nearby a big metropolis. Like Cambridge / Boston, or Oakland / San Francisco. Far enough away that you don't feel crowded every time you leave the house, but you still have access to the jobs, nightlife, dating scene, etc of the big city. It's definitely overrated to pay a premium to live downtown somewhere that's super busy. Noise is constant, crime is higher, there's always some bullshit going on on the street, traffic sucks. If you're going to do it, do it while you're still young... the older you get the lower your patience for dense city living becomes. Find a mellow neighborhood with a good pub and a local bakery instead. I lived in a few larger cities in my twenties but in hindsight putting down roots in a smaller town earlier would have saved me a lot of time and money. With that said I had a lot of good experiences and gained a lot of experience working in a more competitive environment that I carried with me making the smaller city experience a breeze by comparison.
Living in a city was okay for a year or two, but afterwards I really just wanted to leave again. Too much constant stimulation, too many people, not enough nature, I couldn't stand it. I thought moving to a bigger city would help my dating and friend prospects, but if anything it was tougher because my manners and values were too different. Honestly I still can't stand city-native type people, idk what it is but 90% of the time they strike me as so weird and off putting. But I did meet my gf there (who's from the sticks herself), so that part worked out.
I moved from a small town to a bigger city a few weeks after I turned 18. Loved it, still love it, and would highly recommend giving it a shot even if for only a small amount of time. If you don’t like it, do the fun stuff and bounce after a few years. If anything you’ll appreciate your small town that much more. For me, being in the middle of it all is better than space and tranquility. But there’s not right answer and I self aware enough to know that I might not always feel that way.
Hell no, I've always hated Chicago, even the nice areas fucking suck to live there. Too much shit going on, no parking, and everyone acts like assholes. It was only a 20 minute Uber to go out and party over there anyway so its not like I missed out in my early 20s. My friends were always dragging me out to the bars and clubs at that age.
I know alot of people that do it for a social life. I had a good one while being in the burbs. Only trade off is I have to drive everywhere with the exception of some pools, a shopping area (with food, grocery stores, pharmacy, and gas in it), and woods/the river.

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Congratulations!
What subject was your thesis on and what was your conclusion?

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Indeed I do celebrate when I accomplish something significant in my life. When I graduated from Music School my father and I celebrated with a big party and invited all friends and relatives and my musician friends and I entertained the guests by performing songs.

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When I complete some construction project like building a house or brick patio or wooden deck, I might visit the local pub and celebrate by having a draft beer. My final example was when I donated my kidney. I celebrated the health of the kidney recipient by forcing myself out of bed and slowly walking to a well known coffee shop located about 1 mile away. My doctors were surprised that I would do such a thing, but to me, enduring pain was part of the recovery process, plus I was bored to death lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

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Oh.. and and a few times I rewarded myself by purchasing a guitar. Well... maybe a few guitars and amps. lol :)

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I had a sleepover party for my birthday in 7th grade. I had all of my friends over an we went to sleep. This one guy, new to the group, Mike seemed normal. Quiet, mild-mannered, nothing out of the ordinary. Then in the middle of the night, I woke up to screams of pain from my friend. Apparently, Mike couldn't get to sleep because of this guy's snoring, so he grabbed a stapler and beat my friend in the face with it until we got him off. My parents dragged him upstairs and his parents came to take him home. Never hung out with him after that.
The most striking example was my boyfriend's late mother who had a dis-associative episode where she forgot most of her memories. She was having hallucinations and talking to them, a lot of the time what she said was "gibberish". 999 were called and couldn't do much. I sat down and talked to her for about 20 minutes and managed to talk her back to a lucid state (this had never happened before and I was the first person to ever do so)...Really the trick was realising that what she was saying wasn't "crazy", it wasn't without reason. I empathised and in that moment it made sense to me. It was raw primal emotion, confusion and fear. I spoke to her as a person, not as a mental patient. I communicated through tone rather than logic. Apart from that tragic case, though, there was a guy who moved to my station a couple of years ago who I got on with initially because he was ex-Royal Logistics Corps and we used to swap stories on watch. He seemed a bit odd, but harmlessly so, at first and I could hardly complain, being considered a bit mental by the other staff myself. His attitude to the work, though, was a bit slap-dash which there isn't much room for in SAR and he took longer to train on station-specific stuff than most people, but my boss was a good egg and I felt a sort of loyalty to the guy as he was an ex-soldier so we really tried to help him.

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As he got to know us better he started to open up to us about his personal life, including his fights with his landlady, his rather creepy attempts to find a girlfriend by approaching waitresses at restaurants in town and a lot of other stuff that made me gradually less and less keen to talk to him. Manpower shortages meant there was a reshuffle of a few staff, though, and he got moved to a different watch whose boss was a bad-tempered old fart who'd spent thirty years shipping containers of 'rubber dogshit out of Hong Kong', as it were, and we just knew this wasn't going to go well. He started calling in sick all the time with really weird-sounding illnesses and he became increasingly aggressive. Eventually there was a stand up row in the ops room and he went off with stress. I didn't really hear from him again after that, apart from increasingly angry and incoherent posts on Facebook that I suspect indicated increasing alcohol consumption, drug use or something even more serious.

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When I was growing up, we'd wake up to a stocking on our beds that we could open as soon as we woke up. Which had lil stocking filler gifts etc in from santa. And then we would get ready for church. We'd go pick up my nonna, and go to the Christmas Mass that morning. Then go back home after and mum would start cooking the Christmas meal. We'd have music playing and we'd open the gifts that were under the tree from mum and dad, any other gifts from family members sent to us. And also more gifts from santa haha (obviously all by mum and dad but we saw them as seperate because we didn't know any different haha). Then we'd have the Christmas meal, and relax, or play games etc :). Usually my older siblings would travel down and spend it with us, or come down on the boxing day to spend it with us. And we'd have more gift exchanges.

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My dad was also a part time DJ so every Christmas was party time to the max haha. Lights, lazers, bubble machines, you name it haha. And then again on new years :). I have many lovely memories at Christmas growing up.

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Ich plane die Rauhnächte noch nicht, ich habe gerade genug Mühe, bis Weihnachten zu kommen und die Feiertage zu überstehen.

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Aber: Das ist für mich eine Zeit, die ich mit viel Ruhe verbinde, die witzigerweise aber auch ruckzuck vorüber geht. Es ist eine Zeit des Reflektierens für mich und des Blickes in die Zukunft. Jede Nacht (oder Tag?) steht ja sinnbildlich für einen Monat des neuen Jahres und soll einen Ausblick über diesen geben. (Wenn man daran glaubt natürlich).
Ich bin über den Jahreswechsel idR recht verschlossen, in mich gekehrt und nachdenklich.
Aber alter Schwede, so schlecht wie gerade ging es mir schon lange nicht mehr, deswegen erstmal abwarten, wie weit ich dieses Jahr komme…
An sich liebe ich die Zeit zwischen den Jahren irgendwie. Kann nicht mal genau erklären, warum das so ist. Das fühlt sich für mich einfach immer an, wie verschluckte Tage, die sickern einfach so weg, man hat gefühlt keine Verpflichtungen mehr, weil das alte Jahr gegessen ist. Ich bin zwar auch traurig, wenn mir auffällt, was im alten Jahr so alles 💩 war und was noch nicht geklappt hat usw., aber Silvester ist einfach nur eine riesen Party und bis auf Silvester erwartet einen in dieser Zeit eben NICHTS mehr.
Das finde ich auf gewisse Weise irgendwie befreiend.

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Sua madre detestava il colore viola. "Porta disgrazia" diceva,ma Hope non ascoltava mai i discorsi di sua madre. E compiaciuta all'idea di contrariarla prese dalla spalliera della sedia il maglione a collo alto color melanzana che avrebbe indossato come costume per il party di Halloween. Per realizzarlo aveva cucito lame di coltelli arrugginiti lungo le maniche in modo che, allargando le braccia, esse sarebbero sembrate macabre ali.
Un improvviso black out fece precipitare la stanza nel buio totale. Hope inciampò mentre si stava vestendo e cadde. A tentoni tentò di rialzarsi cercando la sedia per appoggiarvisi. Le girava la testa. Le mani bagnate di un liquido ignoto, tiepido e denso si appoggiarono a pareti inaspettatamente molli, soffici e calde. Non poteva essere il pavimento della sua stanza. Tuttavia si trovava all'interno di qualcosa: una luce fioca le consentiva di distinguere in quell'antro il soffitto fatto di fili di lana intrecciati in trama e ordito. C'era qualcosa di familiare in quel posto sconosciuto. Déjà vu. Sentiva una sostanza tiepida colare dalla sua tempia e dal viso.
Ma si stava facendo tardi.
Ricordó che gli amici la stavano aspettando in auto per andare a festeggiare la notte dei morti viventi e si avvicinò a quella che sembrava essere l'uscita: un cunicolo stretto in fondo al quale la flebile luce appariva più intensa.
Dovette contorcersi per assecondare l'angusto passaggio a forma di imbuto solcato da scanalature a costa inglese ma finalmente sgusciò fuori. Un bagliore fortissimo la inondò, spalancò la bocca affamata d'aria e pianse per aprire i polmoni.
Mentre tutti intorno a lei gioivano per il tanto atteso arrivo, dal piano inferiore dell'ospedale salivano le urla strazianti della madre di Hope. Giunta per il riconoscimento di una ragazza col viso trafitto da lame di coltelli arrugginiti. Con indosso un maglione viola a collo alto (dolcevita lo chiamano, ironia lessicale). Che non aveva mai raggiunto gli amici che l'aspettavano in auto

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⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ꜱ ᴏ ᴛ ᴇ ɴ ʙ ᴏ ʀ ɪ, 09:XX ᴘᴍ.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀【🍾】⠀ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⠀
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⠀⠀⠀⠀History repeated itself when the night began to show its presence, bringing out the madness in people in so many ways, but never putting an end to the fun. This is how it happened in that party club where everything was rumbling disco music, drinks everywhere, women and men feeling like experiencing an adventure of an unforgettable night... everything being so scandalous and ordinary.

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At least one thing seemed to be new on a day like this.

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That peculiar lady with strong red hair who could easily captivate too many interested glances. Even the bartender who was supposed to keep the composure behind the bar was inevitably attracted to her. However, nothing seemed to go to majors, passing normally. She would soon receive a cocktail, a choice that surprised the bartender himself.

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And when the drink reached its owner, a new individual came to the side. He gave off an intimidating aura with a distinctive eyepatch and a fancy suit, but also looked... defeated? with trampled pride? his expression of disbelief was quite visible.

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⠀⠀ ❝...Give me the best you have,❞ a thick male voice came out asking for something close to what Nova was greeted with; a strong drink that might be able to send the human mind soaring. He seemed want to try to forget about something.

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Hola, buenas noches !! 🍃🥀🌹
Free space, pondré una canción.
Cyndi Lauper 🇺🇸 - Christmas conga
https://youtu.be/rhCTGkc-UCQ
🎄🎅🎁⛄🛷🎄🎅🎁⛄🛷🎄🎅
It's time to make the Christmas punch
Let's hang the streamers from the ceiling
Bring out the old cheer
Ring in the new year
And get that Christmas feeling
🎼🔊🎼🔊🎼🔊🎼🔊🎼🔊🎼🔊
I wish you joy that never ends
Happy times with all your friends
Come on and hold my hips a little longer
As we do the Christmas Conga,
Bonga, bonga, bonga, bonga
Do the Christmas Conga
🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄
The old white tree still looks good
And Grandma's angels got me thinking
String up the new lights,
Brighten the cold nights
And get those baubles blinking
♦️🎄♦️🎄♦️🎄♦️🎄♦️🎄♦️🎄
I wish you joy that never ends
Happy times with all your friends
Come on and hold my hips a little longer
As we do the Christmas Conga,
Bonga, bonga, bonga, bonga
Do the Christmas Conga
🌱🌹🌱🌹🌱🌹🌱🌹🌱🌹🌱🌹
And then we'll put on party hats
As the year comes to a conclusion
Turn on the yule log
Spike up the egg nog
And break those resolutions
🍀🥀🍀🥀🍀🥀🍀🥀🍀🥀🍀🥀
I wish you joy that never ends
Happy times with all your friends
Come on and hold my hips a little longer
As we do the Christmas Conga,
Bonga, bonga, bonga, bonga
Do the Christmas Conga.

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a little late to the party but well ^^’

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Mir ist bis gerade kein Charakter eingefallen, der ZU spezifisch wäre. Dann wurde in dem Podcast, den ich gerade höre, erwähnt, dass ein indonesischer Heiler und Mörder in den 80ern per Erschießungskommando getötet wurde und eins hat zum anderen geführt…

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Ich würde sehr gerne einen Charakter erstellen, der in einem Land aufgewachsen ist, in dem die Todesstrafe noch aktiv durchgesetzt wird. Der Charakter wäre im Teenager-Alter und gerade in einer Entwicklungs- und Findungsphase, die vor allem auch durch sein sehr eigenes Verhältnis mit dem Tod geprägt ist.
Dieses eigene Verhältnis stammt daher, dass der Vater als Vollstrecker der Todesstrafe immer wieder zuhause positiv darüber sprechen würde, dass er die Welt von dem Bösen befreien würde.

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Der Charakter würde dadurch eine Art Ziel-Perspektive entwickeln, in der er zum Ziel hat, das Böse auszumerzen und seinen Vater dabei nicht nur zu unterstützen und in seine Fußstapfen zu treten, sondern ihn auch zu übertreffen.

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Aus Gründen (über die ich mir noch keine näheren Gedanken gemacht habe) würde der Charakter jedoch keine Laufbahn als Vollstrecker einschlagen können, sondern nach und nach in eine Rolle rutschen, in der er der Meinung ist, dass ihm die Boshaftigkeit anderer Menschen das Recht geben würde, etwas gegen sie zu ‚unternehmen‘.

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Im Endeffekt würde sich die Entwicklung des Charakters in eine Richtung entwickeln, in der er ‚the villain in another mans story‘ wäre.

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Das fände ich super interessant, aber wahrscheinlich ist der Plot nur dann angemessen aufzuarbeiten, wenn der Charakter alleiniger Protagonist der Geschichte ist… daher müsste ich es wohl selber schreiben x3x

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