This year I went to my first major pride festival in a very queer-friendly city. Amongst the many groups and vendors being advertised I managed to find one solitary lesbian group. It was comprised of older women, just a social club, nothing political. I enjoyed speaking with them and moved on. Meanwhile I noticed many people who looked very much like me with organizations for transgender health and nonbinary awareness etc. This was also very good and I enjoyed speaking with these people, most of whom were closer to my age. I had a great time but I was left wondering where my people, the twenty something butch dykes, were.
For all its silliness, some good things have come out of modern queer politics in my book. With the huge emphasis on hyper-proliferation of new identities, it seems that many younger people feel more comfortable than ever expressing themselves. Self definition can be liberating. And I suppose that is the goal. But I must admit that I find it extremely isolating that no one who looks like me calls themselves a lesbian anymore. At least, not people of my generation. I meet female people who date women and who are gender non conforming and more often than not they are trans men, or nonbinary, or some other identity with considerable and deliberate distance from womanhood and from lesbianism. I would never want to take away someone’s ability to self define nor would I ever want to disrespect it. But there is no doubt that I have more in common with other female, gender nonconforming people who love women, regardless of whether they view themselves as lesbians or not, than I do with any other group of people. My main point of mourning I guess is not the new identities themselves, but that the proliferation of new identities for gender non conforming female people has made it near impossible (and a social taboo of sorts) for us to discuss and even admit our similarities. That is, in many ways, the purpose of these alternate identities. Delineate yourselves from womanhood and lesbianism to become something else, quite literally. I yearn for lesbian community but community with other gender non conforming female people would absolutely be sufficient if these people, my peers, were willing to admit how much in common we have despite our terminology difference. Denial of this viewpoint seems to be a priority. I am more than willing to respect their identities if we could just talk about our overwhelmingly shared experiences.
There is an added sting, of course, when I meet nonbinary and transgender female people who feel bent on letting me know that my identity as a lesbian is less radical than theirs. I can’t think of anything more radical than women wholeheartedly loving each other, what I consider to be the most central part of my lesbian identity, but at the end of the day I am not ultimately concerned with being the most radical (or interesting), just the most happy.
The whole ongoing fiasco with Chicago Dyke March made me realize more than ever that people, even those in the queer community, really do not believe that lesbians can exist. In straight society lesbians still just haven’t met the right man; in queer society they are simply proto-trans men, something not-quite a woman, or, just like in straight society, had better be waiting for and open to the right man. In this day and age, where the number of women who openly and proudly call themselves lesbians has dwindled, the illusion that lesbians do not exist is more threatening than ever. There is no doubt in my mind that pervasive attitudes of lesbian erasure and devaluation of lesbian experiences have a huge effect on us and play a role in the disappearance of the lesbian community.
Here is the thing though: I am real! I am a butch lesbian and I am real! I love women who are also real! I am dysphoric and I am real! I am a woman and I’m real! A full blown fleshed out set of stereotypes plus some added extras, a butch dyke! I exist and people like me will always exist!
Your comment about Chicago decaying made me think of the Dresden Files, & how Harry remarks that Chicago is built on Chicago, bc the swampy ground means everything is slowly sinking. How true is this?
100% true. Chicago is built on a swamp, predominantly between a river and a lake. Supposedly “Chi ka gua” means “swamp of the stinking onions” in a local indigenous language (I thiiiiiink the Potawatomi but I could be mistaken, don’t quote me).
Prior to the introduction of the grillage in Chicago architecture – again don’t quote me but I believe a Chicago architect invented the grillage to deal with Chicago’s unique challenges – high-rise (for the time) buildings would be constructed with a built-in “sink” measurement, usually between eight and eighteen inches. Ground-level doors were placed slightly above ground level with the expectation that over the course of a year or two, the building would sink as it settled into the swampy soil. If you go to the Rookery Building on a Wednesday and take the Chicago Architectural Society tour they will take you into the service corridors of the building, which is pre-grillage, and you can see the frankly fascinating ways in which the floor of the building warped as it settled.
A grillage is a series of steel beams layered across one another horizontally, which works a little like a raft, allowing a building to “float” on Chicago’s swampy soil; most buildings from the last century, including the one I live in, have a grillage underneath them. Someday a big earthquake is going to hit and it’s going to look awesome from somewhere other than inside Chicago.
Additionally, the “Streeterville” neighborhood is named for a pirate and all-round asshole named Streeter who basically salvaged and dumped any goddamn rubbish he could find around a sandbar in the lake until he had literally extended Chicago out into the lake in a large enough swath to create an entirely new neighborhood, which is now one of the most expensive areas to live in. That part of Chicago is very literally built on Chicago, as I believe one of the sources of his rubbish was haul-off from the Great Chicago Fire.
And to conclude there are parts of Chicago, just south of Streeterville, where factories creating very toxic byproducts dumped industrial waste, so part of Chicago is literally radioactive and you can’t build there without extensive soil studies being done to make sure you won’t kick up the radioactive dust and poison everything in the immediate vicinity.
Chicago’s municipal motto, by the way, is “Urbs in Horto” which translates as “The City in the Garden”.
Unique made it back to the US! I just received her call telling me that she landed safe and sound and is on her back back to the city of Chicago. We made it a ritual to call or text each other the moment we land after a flight and switch our phones back on. It’s always a relief to know she is alright and has had an easy flight. It’s 58 more days from now. I guess we’ll never get used to separation because you can’t train it or prepare for it - when the person you love the most leaves it’s weird and makes you feel incomplete. All you can do is count the days and work as a team towards your reunion ❤️
Once in a while there’s this old trump supporter woman who walks into our store ( she always wears her MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN hat) and the whole staff dreads it when she comes. Every time she asks us to check every item in the store to see if it’s made in the US. We tell her every time that she can check herself but all of our wrapping papers are made in Chicago. Whenever she finds something she likes, she wants us to read to her where it’s from and if it isn’t made in the US she goes on a rant. She would always complain to us that we should tell the company to have more US made products and that trump is going to make more jobs. Lady this has been the 16th time and I’m sorry your favorite planner is made in Korea but please don’t do this every fucking time you come. And it’s rude to interrupt us when we’re helping other customers just so you can complain about the lack of American made items in store and we can’t do shit with where our products are being made !!! You’re wasting our time and every visit you never buy a thing!
Ever since I found the Facebook group for our local Pokemon Go players, I have never had so much fun playing this game. It’s amazing to have such a concept that can bring so many people together. i’ve made lots of new friends and met so many people playing and I’m so happy about it.
I’m looking forward to Niantic’s next Pokemon Go Fest. After the first one under their belt, I hope they’ve learned from any mistakes made in Chicago, and the next one is even better whenever that may be.
The raid system was a huge success and has brought so many people back to the game and I’m so happy about it.
Takes place during and after season 2 episode 12, named after it as well. (if you haven’t seen it before you’ll be confused, so please watch it.) beginning of this is all about the episode, but if you don’t want to read that you can start at the first page break. just make sure u understand what happens in the episode. this was anonymously requested.
In which Derek reveals his past to his team and his girlfriend, and she wants to help but doesn’t know what else to do besides be there for him.
warning! mentions of sexual assault. pleaseread at your own discretion.
“He’s been what?” you asked in disbelief, staring at Hotch with a blank expression on your face at the news he’d just told you. Morgan had been arrested?
Hello! I'm not sure how much you know about the 1848-50 California gold rush, but as a native Californian, I've always been fascinated by the topic. My question is multifaceted. For one: how big would miners plots of land along the various rivers be, and would people actually live on the same plots that they mined for gold? Also, what would it be like for a young woman and/or young men and children in an area like this?
Hello there! Well, aren’t you in luck because we have the Archivist from @scriptlibrarian answering this one! The Archivist has also studied history and has got your back so just read on!
There is gold in them darn hills!
Quick history of the California Gold Rush. In 1848, John Marshal found flecks of gold in the American River, just below the Sierra Nevadas, in Coloma California, while building a water powered sawmill for John Sutter.
The discovery of Gold shaped California into the state is today. California saw the largest migration influx in the history of the United States. In 1848 there was roughly 157,000 people in California (150,000 Natives, 6,500 Spanish/Mexican, 700 American/Non-Native). Within 20 months the Non-Native Population soared to 100,000 and by the mid 1850’s was past 300,000. This massive population influx put California on fast track to Statehood, and with the Compromise of 1850 California was allowed into the Union, just two years after the land was acquired, as a Free State - leading a imbalance in Free vs Slave States.
So now that we got background history established let’s look at your questions.
How big would miner’s plots of land along the various rivers be…
I admit, I dug around for this information and beyond going into deep dark storage and digging out (pun intended) my books from school … the best answer I could find is - depends.
Yeah I hate that also.
A miner would first have to Staking a Claim, which involves first the discovery of a valuable mineral in quantities that a “prudent man” would invest time and expenses to recover them. Then mark the claim boundaries, with wooden posts, capped steel posts, both of which must be four feet tall, or stone cairns, which must be three feet tall. Then filing a claim with the land management agency (USFS or BLM), and the local county registrar.
There are four types of Land Claims, a miner could make:
Placer (minerals free of the local bedrock, and deposited in benches or streams) - This would be your typical visual of Gold Miners. Bent over a stream with a pan, looking for flexs or small nuggets of gold.
Lode (minerals in place in the mother rock) - next stage up. The Miner has a section off shoot of the river, and is breaking up the rocks looking for veins of gold.
Tunnel (a location for a proposed tunnel which claims all veins discovered during the driving of it) - This would be someone with enough capital to start mining operation looking for gold, and could hire workers.
Millsite (a maximum five acre site for processing ore) - This is a full on organization, that is mining not just gold, but other minerals as well. Has a team of miners, and likely a full town surrounding it to supplement the miners.
So if your character would need to find the gold, stake out his claim, then register it. Depending on how much gold found, expense to work the land, and fees for the register - would determine the size of his land claim.
Would your character live in the same spot as they mine?
Yes, they would have a camp with a tent and supplies near by, so they could work their claim dawn to dusk. They did this for a variety of reasons:
Ease of access to the claim. The last thing anyone wanted to do was hike in and out of the area, wasting precious time traveling when they could be mining.
Protecting their assets. If they are away from their claim, someone could sneak in and mine the area, or re stake the claim stating it was abandoned.
Also, what would it be like for a young woman and/or young men and children in an area like this?
The Gold Rush was not really a place for children. It was a brutal work, and a very lonely existence. Many men left their families behind in hopes of making it rich to bring back the gold to them.
That doesn’t mean that there wasn’t women in the camps.
At one point there was a call out to women to go to California, because there was a fear men would do ‘untold’ things without the calm and stable influence of a woman (not many headed the call).
There were wives that worked the claims with their husbands, and likely even a few who took over the claim after he died. Though this was dangerous as she would be on her own, and had very little rights to the land.
Most of the women seen in or around the camps were washers, cooks, those seeking out a living for their family. These women came with their husbands, fathers, brothers and ended up making the money for the family to survive, while the men panned for gold.
By the 1850’s there were roughly 1000 women working in and around the mines, but they were still a small part of the population, and by the 1860’s they were less than 19% of the population of California.
Now as for young men, it would depend on what you mean by young men?
There were many teenage boys out in the fields, either they came with their father or ran away from home. The Gold Rush was an opportunity to make it rich fast, and men from all walks of life, old and young found their way to California.
Children were less likely in the mines or panning for gold. If the whole family was in the gold fields, the younger kids would be with mom, helping with cooking, washing, etc. Older boys maybe 12ish would be with dad. There are not many accounts, but it didn’t mean they weren’t there.
William Tecumseh Sherman - the future Civil War General, worked in San Francisco during the Gold Rush as a banker, and had his two young sons with him during the time, while his wife and daughter stayed back East. Now this was in the city and not the gold fields. Women, kids and families were very common in San Francisco.
In contrast Ulysses S. Grant was in the Army at the time, stationed in the gold fields and had left his family behind. This also led to him being discharged from the Army, because of his drinking problem, as he had never done well being away from his wife, Julia.
Irony both men would come together a decade later, a friendship that some say changed the world. But that is another essay.
Some interesting facts about the Gold Rush that could be helpful.
The Gold Rush attracted immigrants from around the world, by 1850 more than 25 percent of California’s population had been born outside the United States. As the amount of available gold began to dwindle, miners increasingly fought one another for profits and anti-immigrant tensions soared. In 1850 California’s legislature passed a Foreign Miner’s tax, which levied a monthly fee of $20 on non-citizens, the equivalent of more than $500 in today’s money. That bill was eventually repealed, but was replaced with another in 1852 that expressly singled out Chinese miners, charging them $2 ($80 today) a month. Violence against foreign miners increased as well, and beatings, rapes and even murders became commonplace. However no ethnic group suffered more than California’s Native Americans. Before the Gold Rush, its native population numbered roughly 300,000. Within 20 years, more than 100,000 would be dead. Most died from disease or mining-related accidents, but more than 4,000 were murdered by enraged miners.
Early sections of San Francisco were built out of ships abandoned by prospectors. The Gold Rush conjures up images of thousands of “’49ers” heading west in wagons to strike it rich in California, but many of the first prospectors actually arrived by ship. Within months, San Francisco’s port was teeming with boats that had been abandoned after their passengers, and crew headed inland to hunt for gold. As the formerly tiny town began to boom, demand for lumber increased dramatically, and the ships were dismantled and sold as construction material. Hundreds of houses, banks, saloons, hotels, jails and other structures were built out of the abandoned ships, while others were used as landfill. Today, more than 150 years after the Gold Rush began, archeologists and preservations continue to find relics, sometimes even entire ships, beneath the streets of the City by the Bay. Map of where ships can be found in San Francisco
Mining wasn’t cheap! Most of the men who flocked to northern California arrived with little more than the clothes on their backs. Once there, they needed to buy food and supplies, which San Francisco’s merchants were all too willing to provide for a cost. Stuck in a remote region, far from home, many prospectors coughed up most of their hard-earned money for the most basic supplies. At the height of the boom in 1849, prospectors could expect prices sure to cause sticker shock: A single egg could cost the equivalent of $25 in today’s money, coffee went for more than $100 per pound and replacing a pair of worn out boots could set you back more than $2,500.
The merchant’s made the money not the miners. As the boom continued, more and more men got out of the gold-hunting business and began to open businesses catering to newly arrived prospectors. In fact, some of America’s greatest industrialists got their start in the Gold Rush. Philip Armour, who would later found a meatpacking empire in Chicago, made a fortune operating the sluices that controlled the flow of water into the rivers being mined. Before John Studebaker built one of America’s great automobile fortunes, he manufactured wheelbarrows for Gold Rush miners. And two entrepreneurial bankers named Henry Wells and William Fargo moved west to open an office in San Francisco, an enterprise that soon grew to become one of America’s premier banking institutions. One of the biggest mercantile success stories was that of Levi Strauss. A German-born tailor, Strauss arrived in San Francisco in 1850 with plans to open a store selling canvas tarps and wagon coverings to the miners. After hearing that sturdy work pants, ones that could withstand the punishing 16-hour days regularly put in by miners, were more in demand, he shifted gears, opening a store in downtown San Francisco that would eventually become a manufacturing empire, producing Levi’s denim jeans.
And to prove how fate is fickle - the man who’s name will always be associated with the California Gold Rush - John Sutter - died in poverty. As news had spread about the discovery of gold on his property, within months, most of his workers had abandoned him to search for gold themselves, while thousands of other prospectors overran and destroyed much of his land and equipment. Faced with mounting debts, Sutter was forced to deed his land to one of his sons, who used it to create a new settlement called Sacramento. Sutter Sr. was furious—he had hoped the town would be named after him—but he had more pressing concerns. Nearly bankrupt, he began a decades-long campaign to have the U.S. government reimburse him for his financial losses, to no avail. While thousands became rich off his former land, a bitter Sutter retired to Pennsylvania and died.
I hope this information is helpful, and will give you some insight of the world during the California Gold Rush.
Summary: The reader is completely hungover from the tremendous amounts of fun from the previous night. Dean is a total sweetheart and he decides to show her instead of tell her about exactly how much fun she threw herself into.
Warnings: Second hand embarrassment? It’s fluff, I swear.
A/N: This is for @fandommaniacx / @becs-bunker Beckii’s 21st Birthday Challenge. My prompt was “Bye Bye Bye.” by Nsync. I hope your birthday is awesome and I hope you like this!
Remember when the younger SM Rookies and their dance teacher were in on a surprise cam for Jisung’s birthday, and when they all went in with the cake he was so shocked and hit with emotions at once that the child started crying? Then they were all like “Nah don’t cry have some cake” and hugged him and tried feeding him cake in a cup. Another was Johnny’s birthday where they hid messages on sticky notes around the building, and I mean they had stuff on the ceiling and curtains and in recording booths + musicwith ten’s risqué message, with the last thing being video messages from his friends and family in Chicago. The videos made him cry and the members just came running with cake and messages an telling him to not cry like “look at all we wrote for you!” I love it.
tl;dr I love members hugging and comforting other members and also celebrating birthdays k thanks
Summary: Soulmate!AU, where a person sees color once they meet their soulmate. Y/N stumbles across Lin in a park.
Pairing: Lin x reader.
A/N: Wow, I’m really bad at summaries. Hopefully you guys enjoy it!
With your camera strapped around your neck, backpack slung over your shoulder, and layers of clothing to protect you from the icy chill of Chicago, you made your usual trek to the park near your apartment. It was a blessing that the temperature was in the double-digits since it was in the middle of December. You hoped that the creatures in the park were in the mood to come out and play – they were usually the main pieces in your photographs.
You pause at the crosswalk and scan the near-empty park. There were several people jogging, but other than that, it was peaceful. Every once and a while you saw a squirrel scamper across the field. You felt your hands tingle in anticipation of the photos you’d take today.
For someone who saw the world in monochrome, the idea of having a career as a photographer was bizarre.
But you were damn good at it. So good that some of your pieces were hung in the MOCA museum in Downtown Chicago.
You didn’t need to find the elusive soulmate that everyone spoke of. You didn’t need color in your life; you were perfectly comfortable with the black and white world that you’ve known since you were little.
You shake your head at your mental tirade and was thankful that the light to the crosswalk changed. You quickly walk over to the park and let out a sigh of contentment, the familiarity of the environment silencing your thoughts.
You take a few test shots, adjusting the settings to make sure that the lighting in your pictures were to your liking. You wander around the area, taking pictures of the landscape and the squirrels and ducks that were nice enough to stay still for you.
After a quick change of your camera lens, you begin to take random pictures of the people in the park. The joggers didn’t seem to be happy about it, putting their head down or giving you a side-eye when they realized your camera was pointed at them. You took pictures of the couples that sat on benches, drinking their morning coffee and quietly chatting amongst themselves.
From the corner of your eye, you see a man dressed in a stylish long coat facing the fountain in the middle of the park. He had his phone next to his ear and a coffee cup in hand.
What was a city boy doing here?
You step back and bring your camera to your face, wanting to take a picture of the stark contrast of his frame against the rural environment.
The minute you take the picture he turns.
It all happened so fast.
Your world, once quiet and calm, was now loud.
You drop your camera, stunned.
The grass, littered with leaves were beautiful shades of green, brown, orange, and red. The sky, with the sun peeking over the horizon, filling the world with hues of pink and orange, was breathtaking. You didn’t even know you were shaking until you brought a hand up to brush away the tear that slipped down your cheek.
Rushed footsteps snap you out of your daze and you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you see the man come towards you.
Panic shot up your spine, and without a second thought, you knelt down to pick up your camera from the ground. You spun on your heels and began to briskly walk away.
“H-hey what are you… You’re not supposed to be running away!” the man yells.
You closed your eyes, still blurry from your tears, and willed your legs to move faster.
You weren’t ready for this.
“Wait! You can’t expect me to give up, not when I,” the man trails off, voice raspy and thick with an emotion that you were all too accustomed to: longing.
…Not when you’ve been waiting for me all your life.
You sniff, the fight leaving your body.
During high school, you were like every other teenage girl. Your mind made up scenarios of the day where you would meet your soulmate. Whether it be where the two of you would meet in a crowded train or in one of the quiet corners of the library, it always ended up with you and him kissing each other and having a happily ever after.
But it didn’t happen.
You kept the hope all throughout your college years. But during your senior year, where one by one, every single one of your friends found their soulmate, your hope began to dwindle.
You’ve made your peace with the idea that you were not going to find your soulmate, but now with him standing right behind you, it’s more than you could take.
You stop walking.
He stops and after a moment of hesitation, maneuvers himself so he stands in front of you.
“My name is Lin.”
You stare at him, your soulmate! – your mind screams – and your hands began to tingle with the sudden need to take a picture of him. Large, twinkling brown eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, long hair pulled into a ponytail, a five o’clock shadow, and nose red from the winter chill…
He was perfect.
He shifts, “And you? What’s your name?”
“Y/N. My name is Y/N,” you reply.
“Y/N,” he repeats with a shaky voice, and your heart soars in response.
Lin shakes his head in amazement. “Who knew that I’d finally meet you once I decide to travel outside of New York City?”
Your perk up. “New York? You’re from New York?”
“If you mean the greatest place in the world, yes,” he grins.
You squint your eyes at him. “I think you’re mistaken. Chicago is the greatest place in the world.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Touché,” he concedes, placing his hand on his heart.
A silence settles over the two of you.
You both laugh at the same time, both in amazement and wonder at how comfortable you were with each other.
You glance at his hands, phone tucked away and the coffee cup missing. He notices and sheepishly smiles.
“I accidentally dropped my cup when, you know, it happened,” he explains, gesturing to you.
You show him your camera, wincing when you finally took a chance to inspect it and saw a crack in the lens. “I dropped my camera,” you add, running a hand down the damage.
“So you’re artistic too,” he hums, making you feel tiny at his suddenly scrutinizing eyes.
Lin grins and brings out a worn notebook. “The main reason why I’m here is because of this,” he explains.
Your curiosity piques. “What is it?”
A gust of wind makes Lin shuffle. “Buy me coffee and I’ll tell you all about it,” he says.
“You owe me a camera lens.” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest.
He laughs merrily and you fight the impulse to smile.
“I know a coffee shop a couple blocks from here,” you say, “they make great lattes.”
He holds his hand out. “Well, shall we?”
You shyly slip your hand into his, your throat feeling tight. You share a look with him, relieved to see his eyes shining with unshed tears.
Years and years of waiting and feeling empty were now gone with his simple touch.
Lin gives your hand a soft squeeze.
You felt complete.
Your once monochrome world was no more and you were ready to experience it with Lin by your side.