Will ‘Game of Thrones’ Ever Really Be Over? Unlikely

The phenomenally popular (and lucrative) HBO show could go the way of “Star Wars,” Harry Potter and Disney’s Marvelverse.
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Jones vs. Lesnar is as appealing as it is unlikely

After Jon Jones' easy title defense vs. Anthony Smith, is Brock Lesnar the only true challenger remaining for Jones? If so, why doesn't the UFC want it?

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How Mister Rogers’ Life of Quiet Grace Turned Him Into an Unlikely Pop Culture Hero 16 Years After His Death

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Swedish House Mafia Return: New Management, Stadiums, Vegas Unlikely

Swedish House Mafia has enlisted veteran music manager Ron Lafitte to shepherd what is shaping up to be a major comeback in 2019. Lafitte, whose Patriot Management roster includes Pharrell Williams, Ryan Tedder and OneRepublic, Soundgarden and Backstreet Boys, recently began representing the trio in an official capacity. The group — comprised of Steve Angello, Axwell […]



Mary Katrantzou on Her Unlikely Collaboration With Victoria’s Secret

In the decade since starting her namesake brand, Mary Katrantzou has designed everything from sneakers to packaging for beauty products. One thing she’d never designed? Bras. So it came as a particular surprise when she got the call from Victoria’s Secret asking her to collaborate on a collection to be presented tonight at the 2018 Victoria’s Secret Fashion show.

Mary Katrantzou 
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“It’s so unexpected, it’s so interesting,” Katrantzou said on Wednesday night at The Plaza in New York at one of the many 2018 Victoria’s Secret Fashion pre-game events, including the unveiling of the Swarovski-made Fantasy bra on Monday evening (also at The Plaza). “Sometimes you have certain things you want to happen and you manifest to happen and this something that came out of nowhere.…That conversation [with Victoria’s Secret] was interesting, just because of the values we both share about empowering women.”

Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show 2018 
Andrew H. Walker/WWD

Katrantzou said she was especially compelled to work with the lingerie giant to collaborate on the technical aspect of designing women’s underpinnings. “That was the exciting part. You always think of the anatomy of a woman when you design and how you create a second skin for the woman,” she said. “Perfecting the fit, you want

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Companies Turn to an Unlikely Place for Their Next CEO

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E! Online (US) – TV News


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An American woman says she feels “invaded” after an Amazon Alexa device recorded a private conversation and sent it to a random contact without being asked to.
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Through leadership on the court and team dinners off of it, the once-maligned Rajon Rondo has become a much-beloved veteran presence in New Orleans.
www.espn.com – NBA

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Stormy Daniels, Trump’s Unlikely Foe, Is ‘Not Someone to Be Underestimated’

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NYT > Fashion & Style


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NHL Best and Worst: Classic quotes and unlikely streaks

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How Tua Tagovailoa became Alabama’s unlikely legend

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Sex unlikely to cause cardiac arrest, study finds

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Modern Love: Pushed Into the Future When Illness Strikes (in an Unlikely Place)

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An Unlikely Friendship Between a Pregnant Collegiate and a Gentle Black Man


Dear Morph*,

It’s been over a year since we met, can you believe that? I can remember it pretty clearly.

I was walking into class, it was The Understanding of Art. I chose it because I’d taken art before, and since this was my first semester at the big state university, I wanted at least one blow-off class.

Stains covered the dingy white floor of the classroom. I would know, because that’s what I was staring at as I entered the mammoth-sized double doors.

I was shy by nature (I bet you never would have guessed!) and the thought of being a part of a classroom of 150 students filled me with a bit of anxiety.

As I entered the threshold, I heard our professor greet the class with a quiet, “Hello.” I was flanking the left side of the classroom, looking towards the empty cluster of seating that I intended to make my temporary residence for the semester.

“HEY TEACHER!” Your voice boomed through the classroom and into the tall, echoing ceiling.

You certainly knew how to make an impression, didn’t you Morph?

It was then that I made a decision. I could stay in a lonely corner by myself all semester, or I could sit with the class clown. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.

I walked up to you, with more boldness than I actually possessed, and asked if I could sit by you. You were a bit surprised, but then gave me a beaming grin and said, “Sure!”

What an odd pair we were, huh?

You, a tall, mid-twenties, black man that smelled of cocoa, and me, a tiny, late teens, white woman with a terrible sense of fashion (especially while sporting a baby bump).

You know the first thing I noticed about you?

Your ring.

I hoped you might be married, like me. I didn’t get the nerve to ask about your ring until later in the semester, but I’m glad I did.

As we began our introductions, I was a bit hesitant. What would you think of me? After all, I was younger and married, which usually left people with a bad impression of me. I soon learned I had nothing to fear.

We spoke like we’d known each other for centuries. In fact, the professor believed us to be old friends, and when we, in unison, informed her that we weren’t, she assumed that we must be married to each other.

What a laugh we had over that! I think some of our classmates still believe that.

Despite the teasing, our friendship was never weird, or awkward. That was such a breath of fresh air.

Do you know how hard it had been for me to make friends, Morph?

I worried of making female acquaintances because, as I ended up learning to be true, many of them were vicious and petulant.

I worried of befriending males because when you are married, that terrain is tricky to maneuver. Of course, barring that, there was also my deep-seated fear of men.

I didn’t have to worry with you, though.

You defended me against those who tried to bully me for being different. You protected my reputation and honor. You helped me when I became sick, even to the point of nearly being vomited on.

I remember when I told you I was pregnant. It wasn’t a happy telling. In fact, I recall the sting of tears threatening the corners of my eyes.

You see, you weren’t the first classmate I told, and to my regret, they were not as receptive to my good news as you were.

I considered stopping at, “It’s been a bad morning…” but you knew something more was going on. I told you about the girls that morning. What they had said, and what they had done.

You were furious.

Then I told you why they had treated me poorly.

Every head in the class turned with curiosity as you squealed with delight. That was certainly not the reaction I had anticipated, Morph. Although you thought I was a little nuts (and let’s face it, I was), you were happy for me and my baby.

After this, I decided it was safe to ask you, “What’s with the ring?” Do you know how overjoyed I was to find out your answer?


“It’s a purity ring.” You smiled as you answered.

Our pasts, at least in one small aspect, were similar. You understood part of the way I grew up, and for that I was thankful.

The weeks flew by, and we had each other’s backs. When you slept in, I took notes for you. When I almost threw up on you, you screamed like a girl… I mean, escorted me safely to the restroom. Each day we chatted until class began, and sometimes after class began.

We passed notes about the absurdity of some of the art (like the urinal turned upside-down) and you never once missed a beat when you noticed that my child’s name was written across every line of the pages of my notebook. We took bets on whether my baby was a boy or a girl. We celebrated every day I didn’t throw up or land in the hospital somehow.

You were the only person I had classes with that supported me in the challenges of pregnancy. When my irrational pregnancy hormones caused a fit of crying, you took it in stride, calmed me down, and we carried on. When I showed up to class in a hot pink tutu, maternity leggings and a t-shirt because of my terrible fashion sense, you laughed and sat down beside me, despite being slightly embarrassed.

When I started feeling my baby kick, we celebrated with gluten-free licorice, and even though it was awful tasting, you ate it with me anyways. When you knew I was discouraged with having to drop a class from being sick with hyperemesis gravidarum, you brought a chocolate bar and surprised me with it. When I let you know I was in the hospital and wouldn’t make it to class that day, you made it your personal mission to go, in person, to all of my professors and let them know.

I remember the day of finals I saw you as I was leaving. You had your headphones in and were watching DragonBall Z with a somber look on your face. I turned around and sat down next to you.

We talked one last time before I disappeared out of the large glass doors and onto the dew covered grass on the campus lawn. I walked to the bus stop and climbed aboard my ride to the parking lot.

As I sat there, gazing out the frosty window that December morning, I knew I’d miss you.

I’ve often wondered, since then, if it’s possible to be supportive of a pregnant woman in college.

Then I remember you.

Thank you, Morph, for being a friend to the outcast.

*Morph is a pseudonym to protect privacy.

Rebecca Lemke is a wife and mother bent on overcoming obstacles and living a holistic life with her family. She blogs about her experiences and strategies at her website: New Crunchy Mom. Her work has been featured on sites such as Homeschooler’s Anonymous, and recently won her thepublicblogger‘s annual award for Best Performance of the Year for 2015. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.

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