Here’s the story: My tooth, which has had a root canal for 22 years, started aching on Tuesday, so on Wednesday I go to my dentist. Three x-rays later, he says he’s not sure why it’s hurting and I need to see an Endodontist. I call the Endodontist and am given an appointment two months from now, so I call my dentist back and what do you know? There’s been a cancellation and something has opened up on Thursday.
So, on Thursday I go to the Endodontist, who take three or four more x-rays including a 3-dimensional x-ray. Apparently, said x-rays show that this tooth has a “hopeless prognosis”. The Endodontist refers me to an oral surgeon.
I call the oral surgeon, who schedules me for a month from Thursday. So I call my dentist, who calls the surgeon, who magically finds an opening for me on Friday.
When I arrive at the surgeon’s, I’m given yet another x-ray and then asked to wait in the waiting room, where I’m handed a form. I can’t fill out forms because my handwriting was affected by some strokes that I suffered 17 years ago at the age of 24, so I explain this to the receptionist. She begrudgingly agrees to help me fill out the “meaty bits” like my address and insurance information. I agree to fill out the medical bit, which mostly requires checking boxes, myself.
I twiddle my thumbs for 30 - 45 minutes before a surgical assistant calls me back. She begins interrogating me about the medical form. “What are your mental problems?” She begins, and I cringe. But, knowing that I’m grouchy because I haven’t eaten anything in three days, I vow to be polite.
Then we get to the section on illicit drugs. “Any marijuana use?” She asks me, ready to check no. “No, but I do take CBD every night,” I tell her. (CBD helps me to dream, a skill I lost for years post-stroke.)
“Gummies?” She prods. I nod. She types “marijuana gummies” into her computer. Thankfully, I catch her.
“No, I’m not a marijuana user,” I explain.
“I put that!” I roll my eyes.
“I said that I use CBD because I wanted you to know; I’m unfamiliar with its interactions. Marijuana contains two active chemicals: THC and CBD. THC is one that gets you high. CBD relaxes you. Additionally, CBD grows in two plants; mine is from hemp. Please write ‘CBD gummies’.” She dutifully corrects her notes.
She asks about blood thinners, looks at the sheet I’ve filled out, and is like, “Why’d you put a question mark?” I explain it’s because I’m on Plavix, which isn’t quite a blood thinner because it works against your platelets. It doesn’t thin your blood, it just helps you to bleed more when you DO get injured. “So I should put yes?”
“How about you write ‘patient is on Plavix’?” I answer, struggling to contain my frustration.
Then she starts explaining the prescription drugs she’s going to prescribe me for pain. “Something that contains both acetaminophen and Tylenol —“
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I say. “Acetaminophen IS Tylenol. Do you maybe mean to say that you’re going to write me a script for a combination of Tylenol and an opiate?”
“Yes?” Good God. “Yes?” Is NOT what you want to hear from the surgery assistant right before your surgery. Nor do you want her to confuse the kind of pain medication shes going to give you. Nor should you have to debate the merits of Plavix vs other blood thinners. You don’t want to have to explain to her how marijuana works. Nor do you want to tell her “what your mental problems are”. My hackles are raised.
She has me sign a contract for the work they’re going to do: extract tooth #2. Then, we head into the surgery suite. Assistant ducks out and nurse comes in to anesthetize me.
She sticks the swab into the left side of my mouth. I spit it out and say, “You’re going to take out #2, right?”
“No, we’re extracting #15.”
“NO, YOU ARE NOT. IT’S TOOTH #2, MY BACK RIGHT.” She excuses herself from the room and goes to check. Upon returning, she says, “You were right! It’s tooth #2! The surgery assistant wrote it down wrong on our whiteboard.” I look over at her as she erases the instructions on the board in the room and replaces them with the correct ones.
Then, the surgical assistant returns with nary a peep (after all, when have you ever heard a doctor or medical professional apologize?) and the surgery commences. Fortunately, the surgeon is great — the whole procedure takes ten minutes, and recovery has been relatively easy. However, this seems like more than an oversight. What if I had been put under general anesthesia, as the doctor had offered to do? What if they went ahead and extracted #15 and I woke up with both a missing tooth and a toothache? Or would they have gone ahead and corrected their mistake and yanked out both #15 and #2? I was clutching my arm so hard during the surgery that i could see my the imprints of my fingers.
I filled out a scathing questionnaire that evening, but is there anybody else I should tell about this debacle? Would the state like to know, for example? If so, how do I contact them? TIA!

Kang Seo Yoon, an ordinary office worker, is captivated by the performance of pianist Ahn Hee Won.But one day, she was in the concert hall when no one was left. She witnessed Ahn Hee Won aiding the murder case and played the piano in a pool of blood…?And right from that moment, the world of unscrupulous monsters wearing a beautiful cover and eating humans swallowed Kang Seo Yoon’s life.So you can ... Read Blue Night, Gloss of Enchantment - Chapter 20 - MangaPuma. Read more at https://mangapuma.com/blue-night-gloss-of-enchantment/chapter-20

Milan
Summer 1517
The war had reached its terminal stage as the fighting took place further and further to the east, with reports indicating the victory of French forces and an initial parlay between French and Austrian leadership. Perhaps, now, it was all at an end.
Philippe had spent much of 1516 between Pavia and France, and in 1517 had returned to Pavia before opting to venture to Milan, the capital of his Duchy, before returning home with his victorious armies.
He knew Milan from his father's councils, but knew it from his mother's books as well. Mediolanum, once a proud Roman city at the foot of the Alps and for nearly 200 years the capital of the Empire, had long since been trampled by Lombards and Goths. Upon arriving he made certain to visit the vestiges of the old Roman Empire, perhaps most visibly the Basilique Saint-Ambroise, where he paid his respects to the clergy and prayed under its ancient eaves. Here and there one could see the bits of Romanesque masonry still standing-- a column here, an archway there-- as one rode through the city. You simply had to know what you were looking for.
He paid a short visit to the Sforzesco Castle in central Milan, an imposing structure that his father had ordered turned into more of a military castle than a livable palace. Perhaps it was intended as an insult to Ludovico Sforza, he would likely never know his father's true intentions. He was impressed by the vast park surrounding the castle-- or what remained of it, open fields-- and intrigued by the notion that Gian Galeazzo Sforza, Ludovico's predecessor, had been an avid falconer who had stocked the sprawling park with all manner of game and hunted from the castle.
After sightseeing, he duly rode to the center of the city and the Palazzo Reale di Milano, the seat of government in Milan since the rule of his father. Indeed, it had been more than a decade since his father narrowly escaped the clutches of Ludovico Sforza and left Milan, returning only once with his mother in the aftermath of that war before retiring to France for the last years of his life. Even so, the Palazzo Reale was in impeccable order, maintained as if his father had only left the day before. The servants had performed their duties admirably and Philippe saw to it they were recognized-- he ordered a bonus be paid to them.
He explored its silent halls and found his father's solar, overlooking the open space where the partially-built Duomo di Milano stood. Philippe looked out the window thoughtfully, examining the gothic architecture of the building. He sought a servant who told him that the building had been little improved since the time of the Sforzas, left more or less neglected by the French King who was so much more focused on keeping Milan. To Philippe it seemed counterintuitive to struggle so hard to keep something but neglect it so.
So he let himself revel in Italian art and architecture somewhat, and summoned what architects and artists he could find to the Palazzo Reale to consult with them.
The young King was a perceptive, learned lad who may well have surprised some of the artists that visited him, many of whom had little experience with the ruling French family beyond perhaps seeing Louis XII or at least reading his declarations. Many did arrive, viewing the King of France holding court for artists in Milan somewhat of an irresistible curiosity. Here, too, Philippe’s deep interest in Roman history paid dividends-- many architects paid homage to Roman techniques, nowadays, inspired by the Roman architect Vitruvius. This interested Philippe greatly, and he had many discussions with Milanese artists stretching into the late afternoon. Many spoke with reverence the name Leonardo da Vinci, a Florentine architect who had had involvement with the Duomo before. Philippe resolved to find this man.
The following day he sent a messenger to da Vinci’s workshop in Milan, with a promise of a royal commission. By midday, da Vinci arrived at the Palazzo Reale and met with the young King of France, who offered to him whatever resources he needed to complete the Duomo, which would surely define the man’s legacy as it towered above Milan for the centuries.
Unfortunately, da Vinci seemed disinterested. The project had been wrestled from him by Bramante years ago, and the wound to his pride was deep enough he had little intention of returning to finish what Bramante had started before dying in 1498. The King had promised him a commission, however, and duly commissioned a portrait of himself and his peregrine falcon, Aeneas. It was the work of several weeks, but the King was greatly enthused by it and paid the aged artist handsomely for his service.
Eventually the King attracted the attention of another architect, Cristoforo Solari, who had resided in Milan and worked with Ludovico Sforza’s men on the Duomo and heard of the new King’s interest in completing the process. The hunch-backed architect was joined by another cohort who had worked on the Duomo fifteen years ago, Andrea Fusina. Together they roundly rejected further involvement of the former holder of the contract to complete the project, Giovanni Antonio Amadeo, who they said had implemented a flawed design of the base of the cupola that had been inherently unstable.
There were of course many notable architects crossing Italy hither and thither plying their trades. One name of great repute was the Papal architect, Raphael Sanzio da Urbino. He had worked under Donato Bramante on the Duomo di Milano more than a decade ago. Bramante was dead, though, and Raphael was now the maestro. Philippe swiftly composed a missive that went off to the Holy See, requesting the aid of Raphael in drawing up the plans to complete the Duomo. In his wisdom the Holy Father saw the importance of completing the Duomo di Milano and agreed to release Raphael from his current project-- a piece for Cardinal Giulio de’ Medici.
Some weeks later Raphael arrived in Milan and the King greeted him personally. Characteristic of his energetic approach to projects, the Papal architect set to work immediately. Philippe retained Fusina and Solari to assist, and rendered the royal coffers open for the project.
In days, the Piazza di Duomo was abuzz with activity. The architects worked on their plans, and teams of workmen assembled materials in the square once again. Pierre watched with contentment and wonder as, day by day, the men erected a crane. He became very well acquainted with Raphael’s chief pupil, Giulio Romano, who was only one year his senior but something of a savant. When his apprenticeship with Raphael was complete, Philippe extended to him an invitation to France-- one he seemed quite interested in.
Time soon arrived that Philippe had to return to France, and surprisingly enough he actually regretted it somewhat. He met one final time with Raphael Sanzio da Urbino and his team of architects, promising to support them from Blois however they needed.
Matters in Milan set to rights, and the war coming to a swift close, Philippe took horse for France. His baggage train contained many new acquisitions: his portrait by da Vinci, other examples of Italian art, and numerous books borrowed from Milanese libraries. He had been immensely impressed by the idealistic and talented Italians who had enthusiastically taken up the task of completing the Duomo di Milano, and thought more fondly of them for it. His father had grown to resent Italians and their treachery, but Philippe found them a motivated and insightful people.
His father had made great use of portraiture and pamphleteering, and his regents had done as much with the ordeal of the Archbishop-Elector of Mainz and his vile lies. Philippe considered the use of symbols and portraits. Perhaps that in the cart well behind him would be useful if replicated and spread amongst the nobility.
Philippe then joined the French armies returning to France.
[M: Price for retaining Raphael was discussed with Rumil and has been applied to the French sheet already. Price estimates for completing the Duomo? Not so much.]

I get why certain races, like the Coca Cola 600 on Memorial Day weekend have patriotic paint schemes. I really enjoyed a lot of them today, especially Brad Keselowski’s, that thing was beautiful.
But why is Spring Darlington throwback weekend, and not Martinsville, which is the only track we race at that we’ve been at since our beginning of NASCAR.
I believe that cool paint schemes that are themed toward something are a pretty fun and novel idea that really makes any race feel special and unique.
This got me thinking about how Nashville Superspeedway, or even the Fairgrounds, should have some kind of paint theme. I know it’s not as powerful or meaningful as the paint schemes that we saw this weekend, but more of a good thing is usually a good thing. The first two things people think of when they think about Nashville are honky tonks and music, especially country. I think it would be cool, and we’ve seen that it can be done— Eric Jones drove a Guns n Roses car earlier this year, and Suarez regularly has a Tootsie’s sponsor.
I’d like to know if any of y’all think that would be a good idea, because as much as I don’t want it to, it’s just one of those things that feels like “just another race,” and that there are definitely other tracks more deserving of being celebrated than NSS due to the fact that there isn’t really any major history there yet, but sometimes he history is steeped in the tradition. If anyone knows Marcus Smith or anyone who can make this idea a reality, feel free to pass it along lol.
I just think that bad ass paint schemes make any race better, and I’d like to see Nashville remain in my back yard (preferably at the Superspeedway, though I’d definitely go to two races in the year if they put one in the Spring and one in the fall at the other track).
I just wanted to throw that out there bc I realize, this is something that makes races feel unique and seem to have staying power over the ones that don’t have anything to really make them stand out.

Got this part finished! It took some doin, but I got there. Anyway, let me know what you guys think, and I hope you enjoy. I'm not very good at these intros.
First / Prev / Next (Coming eventually)
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“-ck.”
David’s apartment wasn’t overly furnished to begin with. He lived with the bare essentials that came with state housing, but the fiks decided to make it more homy. Their idea of a home was converting it into a flophouse. Beds, cots, and pallets soon spread out along the walls while boxes and crates soon took up residence in the middle of the room. His coffee table, end tables, and small dining set were conspicuously absent.
He stared slack-jawed for a moment before a crash sounded from his kitchen. “Saa! No food!”
“Lie! How can human starve?” After a brief pause, “Saa! No food!"
David was about to investigate when a short…well, relatively short fik stood in his way. “Ah, David! Yes, yes, we come as soon as we could.” He was just a few inches taller than David and wearing more ornate garb. About as ornate as something stolen from a seamstress’ dumpster. He was also an albino. That was important to fiks, right?
“Am Wesh. Clan Ermin.” That sounded important, alright.
“Ermin? Are you the one in charge here? Tell them to stop ripping up my-“
Another clatter sounded from the kitchen. “Look, look! Hidden door!” Oh right, the pantry. Great. Now they’re in his walls.
With a content smile the Ermin said, “Yes, this will be good den. The wise clan lives close.” He illustrated his point by interlacing his fingers. “Builds strong bonds. And now with human! Wise human no less!”
“Wise? Look man, if I was wise, I’d be doing better than I am. Now, will you tell them-“
“Bah! Yes, human wise…Maybe David does not see. Or hear. Wesh hears wisdom you recite.”
“…You could hear me in the shower?” he asked sheepishly.
“Saaaaa. Yes. David sings song of fik! Sings of fik’s struggle in new world. About lies and hate fik suffer. But our fighter spirit keeps us going. Keeps us strong. You sing such wisdom without knowing?” He placed his hands on David’s shoulders, “Fear not! Wesh will hear and speak David’s wisdom. Even if David cannot see.” With a pat on the shoulder the albino shuffled away to the warriors who seemed at odds over sleeping arrangements.
“I guess it’s good to know they like Simon and Garfunkel.” He mumbled to himself. David summoned his courage to finally investigate what was happening in his kitchen when the door chimed, and the apartment went abruptly silent.
*****
Sarif didn’t need a canid nose to know something was off. The various tables and bits of broken furniture stacked up beside the building leading a trail of dust and debris to David’s door was a decent tip off. Another would be the small din coming from the building. Sure, any tenant could be having company over making a decent noise, but they wouldn’t stop after pressing David’s chime. But of course, she could also smell the small number of people who’ve passed by recently. It didn’t seem likely David would give up being a recluse overnight. What worried her was the smell of his pursuers from last night.
After a moment of silence, Sarif pounded on the door as a bit of anxiety seeped into her mind.
“Who’s there?” called David.
She let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “It’s me. I’ve come to check on you, and…And apologize.” She struggled to get the last word out.
After a brief pause the door slid partially open revealing David’s suspicious expression. “Apologize?”
“Yes…Who’s in there with you?” She looked above him, but no one was in view. The place looked like a mess.
“Just, uh…Just some friends. Could you maybe come back another time? Now’s a bit…Busy.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Please let me in. It’s-“ She caught herself before saying ‘my job’ “Important to me that I know you’re safe.”
With a grimace David looked back into his apartment before relenting and opening the door. Her eyes quickly scanned the room looking for the intruders as she stepped through the threshold. The fiks were hiding in the doorways to the kitchen and bedroom. She caught sight of the impromptu bedding and realized this was an infestation.
She took a couple strides to put herself between as many of them and David as she could. “David, what are they doing here?” she demanded in a hoarse whisper. “They were the ones chasing you last night. You’re letting them move in?”
“I’m not letting them do anything.” He replied as hushed as he could. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m a bit on the short side. When someone twice my height wants to do something there’s not much I can do about it.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked over her shoulder before leaning down and whispering in his ear, “Do you need me to get rid of them? If you feel in danger I’ll-“
“No! No. They’re fine. Just a bit…excited? Eager?” He sighed, “Look…Last night was a bit of a misunderstanding. I didn’t know all of this was happening until a few minutes ago. It’ll sort itself out.”
“You can’t let these people stay here. It’s not safe. They’re…”
It was David’s turn to squint, “They’re what?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“They’re dangerous. They steal, they’re violent-“
“Violent? Violent? Everyone in this galaxy is violent. So far, they haven’t stolen anything, and have been polite with everything I’ve asked. Meanwhile the other high and mighty races have done their very best to make my life a living Hell. They haven’t beaten me. They haven’t starved me! They haven’t shoved shit in me without my consent like those fucking snakes or big fuckers did!” David shouted while pointing to the scar behind his ear. He realized he was shouting and leaned around Sarif to see a dozen or so eyes staring at the two.
Sarif closed her eyes and took a breath. “Look, I…I’m sorry. I’m sure they’re fine. I just…” She looked up and around, searching for the words. “I’m trying my best to keep you safe. I really am. Sometimes that…Sometimes that makes me come off a little harsh. You know the galaxy isn’t a nice place. So do I. I tend to see the worst in people.” She looked down into his eyes, “Will you meet me halfway? Help me, help you? I just want to help you however I can.”
The tension left David as he sighed and rubbed his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak when there came a rough knock at the door.
*****
Hilda took a seat at the bar in the Aimless Wind Café. It had mostly emptied out as the breakfast rush died down. She perused the menu on her comm then checked for any upcoming entertainment. Looks like authentic human music was a random flash promotion. After a brief wait, a black furred felinoid walked up behind the counter.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a tea and is the owner in today?”
She looked the taurian up and down before replying, “Sure. I’ll go grab him.” With that she disappeared into the back. A few minutes passed as Hilda looked around the restaurant. It wasn’t small exactly. The bar and stage took up a good portion of the room, but judging by the tables the place could seat just over fifty patrons.
“Well, if it isn’t our resident human wrangler. A bit wilier than herding troqs, huh?”
Is my accent that bad? The man rose to eye-level on the hidden step that ran the length of the bar. He was dressed in more conservative clothing with a handkerchief tied around his nubs holding his hair back. While he readied the kettle and dug out a large earthenware cup, Hilda cleared her throat.
“We grew nist, but yeah. I’m here to-“
“Learn what you can about our little music-man.” He set the cup down in front of Hilda and began wiping down the immaculate counter. “He’s been here a few times; engaging in his impromptu therapy sessions. Not much of a talker I’m afraid. What were you hoping to learn?”
Hilda went back and forth in her head about just how much she wanted to say, before deciding honesty would be best. “This is…only our second day with David. So far, we’ve only read his file, picked him up from the hospital, then chased him through half the station. We can’t get a word in edgewise because he doesn’t trust…Well, anyone. But, he kept coming here. I just want to see why. Maybe find something we can do to help him.”
The owner raised his eyebrows then leaned on the bar, “Well. I suppose things have nowhere to go but up, now. If you were looking for some great truth or revelation about David, I’m afraid I have none. All I can say is the man loves-no, needs to sing. I don’t know why. Maybe it distracts him from the here and now or takes him back to when life made more sense to him. Though, if I were to guess…I would say he probably always loved singing. Might well have been his drive before everything was stolen.”
She mulled that over. For someone without all the answers the man had a better bead on David than most of the evals in his file. “That’s as good a guess as any. I just don’t know what I can do with that Mr…”
“Rodrik, and it may be a bit selfish on my part, but it also may bring David a bit out of his shell. Maybe you and your partner could finally bring our bard to perform on that stage over there.” He pointed to the back corner. “I’m more than willing to accommodate whatever he needs.” Standing straight again he told her, “I’ll be here whenever if he decides to perform up there or in the back. I live on the floor above. For now, Shasa here will take care of you.”
Stepping back down, the man passed the felinoid and returned to the backroom. Hilda nursed her tea and thought when Shasa spoke. “I do hope you get him to perform again. I’m a bit of a fan now.”
Hilda eyed the woman. She realized her fur wasn’t solid black but covered in hazy, faint spots. A bit on the taller and bulkier side for felinoids she seemed a bit out of place, but she didn’t know why. “Have you spoken to David much?”
“Not as much as I’d like to. He’s adorably uncomfortable whenever anyone is…particularly friendly to him. But I do love a man with baggage. They melt in your hands once they’re comfortable around you. Lean on you for support. Oh, but you’re not here for that kind of advice. Or are you?” She smiled mischievously.
Squinting at the other woman, Hilda rose and paid her tab, “Thanks. I guess.” She left the café and headed for David’s apartment, learning all she could and a bit more besides. I’m gonna have to keep an eye out for that one.
*****
The room was silent for a beat before Sarif opened the door. She was staring at a leather clad chest before she craned her neck back and saw the single largest fik she had ever seen. I didn’t know they could get that big.
The fik woman seemed equally confused to see Sarif and looked past her to the other fiks approaching the door.
“Chief!” called a fik.
“Chief?” parroted David and Sarif in unison.
A grin split the chief’s lips as she bowled past Sarif and strode in to meet her clan.
“Hey! You can’t just barge in here!” cried Sarif as she rebounded off the wall and planted her paws.
“Why? Am chief. Chief can go anywhere.” The fik giant explained as if to a child. Ignoring the canid, the chief’s gaze wandered the apartment before settling on David, “You!” She took a couple quick strides before bending down and scooping David up in a bear hug.
Sarif launched herself with reckless abandon at the fik’s back with teeth and claws bared. The chief spun as she hauled David up throwing Sarif’s lunge off causing her to shoot past. She dug her claws in the floor and spun around. David was effectively a hostage and meat shield.
I’m gonna have to go low or else I’d rip David open with her. But what if she lands on him? That could be just as…Wait, what’s she saying?
The fik, seemingly oblivious to the attack was rocking David side to side saying, “So happy to finally find you! Humans so hard to find. Always hiding. Always running. But now I have you! You’ll be so safe and happy now!”
She blinked. That wasn’t quite what she expected, but violence still hadn’t been ruled out. She was plotting her next move when she noticed a sharp blade of some description enter her peripheral, threatening her to stay still. Right. The others.
Then the door opened.
*****
Hilda heard voices and a scuffle as she approached the door. Deciding she needed to get in there quickly she opened the door and stepped inside.
She didn’t know how to process what she was seeing. There were almost a dozen fiks around the redecorated room. One was just about her size, clutching a squirming David while another was holding a knife to Sarif who had murder in her eyes. And all eyes were on her.
The door slid shut behind her when she turned and glared at the big fik. “Put. Him. Down.”
A confused expression crossed her face. She looked down and saw the human struggling for air then released him. He dropped to the floor gasping for breath, bracing his hands on his thighs.
Her gaze settled on Sarif who was beginning to relax. “What happened?”
“These f-“ She glanced at David, “These people broke in and seem to be trying to move in.”
A white fik stepped forward, “There are lies! Fik was welcomed into new den. David is most gracious. Fik would not break anything!”
“I broke something!” Piped up a fik in the back.
“Silence!” the white fik yelled, spinning around.
“You about broke David’s spine!” Sarif growled and stalked up to the chief. “Where do you get off thinking you can just whip him around like that?”
She seemed unperturbed by the chastisement. “Human is fine. Sulta knows her own strength.” The argument carried on for another couple minutes when the door chimed again.
*****
That’s it! I’m ripping the chime off and bricking up the door! No more visitors! No more headaches! David had slipped out of the middle of the verbal clash in case it became more physical, but that put him closest to the door. With a roll of his eyes and a groan he answered it.
Standing in the doorway was a blue and red colored avian. It gave David a quick glance before handing him a slim paper package. “You must be David. Not a lot of humans running around here. Anyway, have a pleasant day!” he called before striding down the street.
David tried to get a question out but the avian’s long legs carried him away before David even knew what to ask. With a sigh he inspected the package. It was more like an old Earth manilla envelope, bulging with something weighty. It had his address and even a description of him, but no return address or even the name of the sender.
Frowning down at it he turned around and closed the door once again. Then looked up and realized he was once again the center of attention.
“Uh…You all keep doin…Whatever. I’m gonna go check my mail.” He shuffled along the wall until he entered his bedroom then shut the door. Thankfully he was alone.
He sat down in his desk chair by his comically oversized desk and pulled out the envelope’s contents. It held a pad and a card. He set the pad aside a read the card with someone’s face on it.
You are formally invited to attend the celebration of life/graveside service of Mortemer J. Albrecht.
A funeral? I don’t even know this guy. He quickly read the dates and brief life summary on the inside before setting it aside and powering on the pad. It blinked to life before displaying the front camera view. God, I look terrible.
It blinked a couple times before scanning his face, with special attention to the eyes. I wonder if I get to keep this thing. Passing whatever check, the pad displayed the directions to the desolate planet Mr. Albrecht was going to be buried on. It drew up a diagram of the landing zone, gravesite, and where the Guardians will wait.
Guardians? Plural? Realization dawned on him. Multiple humans in one place. They never did that. David never fully understood why. He missed that bit of collective trauma. In some instances, it made him feel more disconnected to humanity than he already was.
He continued reading the invitation. It seems Mr. Albracht wanted as close to a traditional funeral as he could have, but he had no surviving family. That’s where David and the other invited humans come in. He pondered his options. He really didn’t want to venture out. He didn’t want to meet people and see that all too familiar pity in their eyes. Especially other humans. He didn’t know if it’d be worse to see them looking as bad as himself or doing better.
On the other hand…He was lonely. It’d been so long since he’d spoken to another human. Another person with a shared background and experience. Someone who’d just understand. He thought about it for a minute before reaching a decision.
He opened the door, and it seemed everyone really went back to arguing and shouting.
“Hey!” Silence. “You.” He pointed at Ruk’sa, “Keep everyone from wreaking my apartment. You.” He pointed at Sarif, “Keep them from getting into trouble while I’m gone. You.” He pointed at Hilda, “Come here.” He stalked back into his room while everyone looked at each other.
Hilda followed him to his room. “Gone?”
David spun around and squinted at the towering taurian, “You and Sarif really want to help me?” She nodded immediately, “Then take me here.” He pointed at the uninhabited planet displayed on the pad.

I’m in high school and i’ve just recently gotten out for the summer so I’m not seeing people as much as I did every week day. I’ve had lots to time to hang out with my friends recently, however, the uncertainty of when I will see them again makes me very anxious. Even though I understand they’re not trying to get rid of me and they do love me, that knowledge is incredibly difficult to solidify in my mind, and I end up crying over essentially nothing. My worries get worse when I see them hanging out with other friends I may not know as well, and hearing that they’ve been asked to hang out by others and not me. This is another thing that I understand is normal and I’m glad they have other people to have fun with, but I can’t help but feel jealous that I had not also been able to go too, or that I had not also been asked. I know they mean no harm, and to back that up I’ve been invited to hang out with their other friends a number of times so I know it’s not about them not wanting me around. It’s not something I can really bring up to them either, as it’s no one’s fault and nothing can really be done by anyone other than myself to stop these anxieties. Are there any ways I can calm myself down? I’ve also just gotten my first job, and navigating around that when making plans may come up as an issue, causing even more nervousness to an already stressful new thing! If anyone who also struggles with kind of permanence mentality or anything about friendship anxieties has any tips on calming these feelings that would be greatly appreciated!! <3

Hey guys. With summer approaching, my (21f) son (6m) Xander's primary focus is playing, getting lots of outdoor play, and his music lessons, which he adores more than anything. He's really good at guitar and vocals. He has private lessons and group lessons. The thing is, he progressed pretty quickly, and so they have him learning pretty cool rock songs. The staff also got attached to him because of how young he is and they make TikTok's with him and post them without my consent. Often, he's mouthing and dancing along to inappropriate music from artists like Lil Peep and Eminem, which I myself know a few of their songs, I just don't know if it's appropriate for kids. Plus, the way they were making him dance for the tiktok (it was of him and a young teacher) was sexual. Plus, I never consented to my child being on TikTok. The music teachers apologized profusely and told me the videos of my son posted over months would get taken down. They only took down the most recent one.
My son cries over going to his music lessons. When he's sick and he can't go to his music lessons he sulks and makes sure everyone knows he's down. His favorite thing is to bring out his guitar whenever a guest comes over. And he absolutely seems to adore these music teachers. He had a nightmare about "not going to music school" anymore. I felt like his teachers were grossly exploiting him against my consent and now idk how I feel about the studio. At the same time, my cousin Katrina (25f) told me I'm overreacting because they seem to have a genuine relationship with him, the teacher that made the most recent tiktok was young (23m), and it is true that he's excelled in music since starting in the school which was a huge increase in his confidence. Idk what to do. AITA??

Hello everyone! I hope that you’re ready for another chapter of The Students! Before I get into that, though I wanted to thank u/winter-reigndeer694 for making this fantastic meme. It was exactly the response I was looking for when I wrote the chapter. This was also the first meme that someone has made of my fic. Thank you I really appreciate it. In other news, I had writer’s block so sorry if this sucks. I hope you enjoy and thank you to u/spacepaladin15 for the original story.
First Last Next
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Memory transcription subject: Gaerk, Krakotl Student
Date: [Standardized Human Time] August 28, 2142
Life was good. I had been in this apartment for about a week now, and I never thought that I would be this comfortable anywhere but home. Despite the fact that this was my first time away from home, surrounded by war vets that weren’t even on the same side, I was comfortable. Something, that when I told my parents about, they practically showered me with praise for doing as well as I was. Sure, I had my moments, like when I found out about that Arxur, the thing with my nest, and the party a couple of days ago. I shuddered when I thought about the party. The fact that that hulking human not only knew about my exploits but praised me for them was nothing short of a shock. It was also kind of motivating when I think about it. Other than those hiccups, life has been good. Even though we’re only a week or so into the semester, I feel confident that I can stay on top of everything and come out stronger because of it.
I shook myself out of my daydreams and focused back on the homework that I was doing. It was based on human programming languages, which was exciting for several reasons. I don’t know what it was about them, but they all seemed to flow like no other language that I had worked with before, and they were extremely intuitive. I relished the time that I had to learn about something that I’m passionate about. I was so engrossed in my project that I barely noticed Connor walk into the room carrying box that was large even for him. I tore myself away from my project long enough to see Connor opening it with a knife.
“Whacha got there?” I asked curiously.
Connor smiled as he opened the flaps of the cardboard box. “I got a package from home! There isn’t much mail service between here and Earth, but my mom cooked up a care package for me! I don’t even know what’s in here, but knowing my mom, it’ll be something good.”
My curiosity was piqued. What would a human mother send to her grown up hatchling? “Well, what’s in it?”
He started pulling various plastic wrapped things out of the box. The writing was in English, and I didn’t have my visual translator ready to go, so he just started rattling off the different things that came in the package. “Let’s see here, we got extra Double A batteries, a couple of flashlights, authentic vegan marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers for smores, mom’s homemade cookies (score! Mom’s recipe is the best!), a fifty credit gift card, and-“ He suddenly stopped and stared into the box.
“What is it? What did you get?”
“I fetching love my mom!” he practically shouted as he pulled a large black box with a handle attached to it out of the cardboard box and onto the table. He looked at me and his face fell a bit. “So, before I tell you what this is, I need to give you some context.”
I nodded my head. “Ok, why does it need context though?”
“Because it sounds horrible without context.” I shuddered involuntarily but got it under control and nodded for him to continue. He hesitated only for a moment before launching into his pitch. “So back in the 1980’s or something like that, there was a company named Games Workshop. Like the name suggests, they made, and still make, games. Those games happened to be tabletop war games.”
My feathers puffed up. “W-war games?”
“Yeah, the idea behind them was that they created a strategy game where you would command an army that would fight another army controlled by your opponent. And, of course because they wanted to sell more than plastic miniatures and paint, they also created lore for them that, quite honestly, is really messed up. When any alien besides an Arxur hears about the lore for the first time, they are usually horrified, and run out of the room before anyone can explain that the whole thing is satire, and many people consider it to be the worst-case scenario when it comes to our interactions with aliens. I just want to reiterate that this game is not how humanity feels about aliens, ok?”
I shuddered again despite his words. Only predators would love a game glorifying violence and war like this. “Why though?” I asked horror clear in my voice.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, why did the federation have a TV show glorifying the extermination of species that showed no threat to anyone? Arguably this is tame by comparison.” He said defensively as he finally opened the case and pulled out figure after figure of what I assumed were armor covered humans with massive pauldrons carrying flamethrowers. The green of the armor was a stark contrast from the pitch black of the case that it came in. As I got closer to look at them, I could see the individual brush marks on one of the miniatures.
“Wait, did you paint these yourself?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I did. Back in the day, you had to paint each mini with painstaking detail. Nowadays though, you can usually just buy them prepainted, but it’s a rite of passage in the community to hand paint your first army.”
I gasped in wonderment as he continued to pull mini after mini out of the case until there was well over fifty minis sitting on the table. “What are these?”
He chuckled again. “They are called space marines, and they are kind of like the elite forces of humanity in the lore of the game. These ones are from a chapter of space marines called the Salamanders, and they are the closest thing that 40k has to good guys.”
“Oh, wow!” I said with equal parts amazement at the painting job and terror of what I was hearing.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I had a lot of time just doing nothing after I lost my arm, so I ended up getting into the extremely expensive hobby of painting miniatures like this and playing the game.”
I looked from the minis to him and then to the box. “Wait a second, there’s easily more room in that box than what you’ve shown me! What else do you have in there?”
“Well, right before I left for school here, I had another painting project that I was working on, and my mom packed it up in here too, along with the paints needed to paint the army.”
A thought came to my mind. “C-could I try and paint one?”
He smiled. “Sure! I’ll get you a reference sheet so that you can know what color to paint it!” With that, he pulled out a smaller figure holding a rifle and wearing a gas mask, along with some paint and pencil thin brushes. “Happy painting!”
This is the most fun I’ve had in a while! I thought to myself as I looked down at my claws to see them covered in paint. I looked back down at the model that I was obsessing over for the last three hours. “I think I’m finished!” I proudly exclaimed.
Connor leaned over to take stock of the state of the mini. “Dang dude! For the first time painting, you did really good!” I practically beamed with pride. There’s nothing that can tear me down from this high.
Suddenly, Spot walked into the apartment. He took one look at the mini, and immediately recognized it. “Dammit Connor, did you get him into Warhammer?”

Meta-aware, modern-day version of Phantom of the Opera.
My main character Frederick was born with some kind of physical malformation. Idk exactly what - whether it’s a legit medical condition or just a grab bag of different physical abnormalities - but it’s incredibly noticeable.
His parents are very loving, and they raise him in the world of rock music, camp, punk, old sci-fi, etc. They teach him that in our superficial world, it’s better to embrace one’s imperfections and even have an element of self-parody, rather than listen to society’s obsession with looks.
Nevertheless, Frederick struggles socially, and he knows it’s because he looks different. It hurts, but he has his hobbies at least. He particularly likes theatre and musicals, and eventually someone introduces him to Phantom.
Initially he’s dismayed because of how the story plays out, but he can’t deny that he relates to Erik in a lot of ways. And with his talents for acting and singing, he would be terrific in the role. He wrestles with it for a bit, but ultimately decides that he’s going to be the first actor to play Erik without needing any prosthetics.
Here’s my question: would anyone in that situation actually do that? I mean one doesn’t hear of people with scoliosis lining up to play Quasimodo. But then again, there are parallel social movements for LGBT/neurodivergent/disabled characters to be played by actors who are actually in those communities. But given how the Phantom story goes, ,, it could be too depressing or too upsetting for someone with a physical malformation to play Erik. It could also be cathartic tho.
Idk. Advice needed.

I apologize for the vague title, but I don't know how to articulate this frustration any differently. I'm a senior psychology student and I'm looking for a part time job to potentially maintain through my remaining semesters until graduation. I am currently working at my dream job, it's a grant funded program facilitating music-based interventions for residents in nursing homes with dementia. I plan to pursue my doctorate in clinical psych with a focus in neuropscyhology and this position has been an incredible experience all around. Sadly, it is grant funded and we are quickly approaching the end of our grant cycle. Our program coordinator has applied for a massive grant to hopefully sustain us for another three years, but even if we receive funding, it will leave me jobless for 2-3 months. If we don't get it, I'll be forced to find something permanent. I have until mid-July, beginning of August at the latest, to find a new job.
I know I could find a retail job easily, I have over 5 years of experience working beauty retail. I've just become so used to working a non-retail position and the idea of going back sends me into full blown panic attacks.
Here's where I stand currently:
My work history ranges from retail, special needs caregiver, intern at a neurology clinic ( I administered and scored cognitive assessments), and my current position through this non-profit which is half administrative and half working directly with residents. Because I plan to pursue graduate school, I'm also involved in multiple research studies at my university, one of which is self-proposed. I am currently in the data collection stage now and manage a team of five undergraduate researchers. I'm proficient in Excel, Word, Google Docs, all videoconferencing technology, data entry, and I've developed pretty solid administrative skills through my current position. I enjoy working with older adults, but I've been a caregiver before and it was absolute hell.
All that being said, I know that I have a skill set that would lend itself to other jobs outside of retail and caregiving, but I don't know where to start. My current position is hybrid, remote with one day a week (or less) in office. My neurodivergent brain loves remote work, but I know it can be extremely difficult to find part time entry level jobs. Given my background, are there any job titles that I should seek out? Am I being unreasonable in my expectations? I'm open to suggestions and/or a reality check. I'm beyond frustrated and overwhelmed and any insight would be immensely appreciated.

Memorial Day weekend has come and gone, and if you weren't in any of the big crowds for Blink 182, Paramore, Taylor Swift/Phoebe Bridgers, or the musical festivals happening on along the east coast, you might itching for some live music this week. June means beach season is here and that means beach shows, with Rippers opening this weekend. Plus, Paramore is still in town, playing a pair of shows with Bloc Party, not to mention tour stops by AJJ, Thrice, Panchiko and Young the Giant, and yet another sellout for Bill Joel, who returns to make up December's cancelled show.
If you're new to this sub or just passing through, each week I try to highlight the "best" upcoming rock, punk, indie and alternative shows. I scour the web and social media for concert announcement, booking, rescheduling, etc., and then pick which shows are vying for my time and money (or which would've been if they weren't sold out). This is not intended to be an exhaustive list as there are other non-reddit resources that cast a wider net on live shows, including pop, hip hop and comedy shows, but feel free to add any missing shows using the comments (especially for other genres).
As usual, listed times are approximate start times (not door); prices are estimates for door tickets, and do not include online fees and taxes.

TUESDAY MAY 30

Brutus + Trixie Whitley @ Gramercy Theatre, 7pm ($20)
^LPR15 Panchiko + Horse Jumper of Love + LSD & the Search for God @ (le) poisson rouge, 7:30pm (SOLD OUT)
Paramore + Bloc Party + Genesis Owusu @ Madison Square Garden, 7pm ($185+)
Voice of Gowanus Fundraiser @ Public Records, 7pm ($50+) feat. Yo La Tengo + Marc Ribot + The Martin Bisi Collective
Peppermint + Sheer Curtains + Scout Gillett @ Purgatory, 8pm ($15)

WEDNESDAY MAY 31

Mega Bog + Mary Jane Dunphe + Shallowhalo @ Baby's All Right, 7pm ($15)
Cinema Stare + Leisure Hour + Good Looking Friends + Fear Not Ourselves Alone @ Bar Freda, 8pm ($15)
Leor Miller's Fear of Her Own Desire + Mt. Worry + Fat Trout Trailer Park + Bedridden @ The Broadway, 8:30pm ($15)
Unwed Sailor + Caravela + Spa @ The Kingsland, 8pm ($15)
^LPR15 Panchiko + Horse Jumper of Love + LSD & the Search for God @ (le) poisson rouge, 7:30pm (SOLD OUT)
Paramore + Bloc Party + Genesis Owusu @ Madison Square Garden, 7pm ($185+)
Heart Attack Man + Super American + Arm's Length + Photocopy @ Racket, 7pm ($20)
Bridge City Sinners + Crazy and the Brains @ Saint Vitus, 8pm ($20)
Michael Ian Cummings^{EP release show} + Alex Orange Drink + CUTTTERS + SUO @ The Sultan Room, 8pm ($17)
Pons + Dolly Spartans + Consumables + Bosco Mujo @ Union Pool, 8pm ($15)
AJJ + Oceanator + Gladie @ Webster Hall, 8pm ($25)

THURSDAY JUNE 1

Jelly Kelly^{album release show} + Skorts + Le Big Zero + Brodeo @ ALPHAVILLE, 9pm ($12)
Pride Month Kickoff Party @ Brooklyn Made, 8pm ($20) feat. partygirl + Laura Danae + Monarch + Tula Vera + LEONE
Big Wreck + Mick's Jaguar @ Gramercy Theatre, 7pm ($30)
Atlas Engine + Diary + Lukka + Endearments @ Rubulad, 8:30 ($12)
Tristen + Colatura + BenBen @ The Sultan Room, 8pm ($15)
Thrice ^{The Artist in the Ambulance 20th Anniversary tour} + Holy Fawn @ Terminal 5, 8pm (SOLD OUT)

FRIDAY JUNE 2

Massa Nera + Trophy Hunt + Common Sage @ The Broadway, 9pm ($15)
Onesie ^{"What You Kill" single + music video release show} + Nite Music + The Roulettes @ East Williamsburg Econolodge, 9pm ($5)
Dreamers + Robert DeLong @ Elsewhere - The Hall, 7pm ($25)
Billy Joel @ Madison Square Garden, 8pm (SOLD OUT) ^{Rescheduled from Dec. 19, 2022}
Fenne Lily & Christian Lee Hutson + Why Bonnie @ Music Hall of Williamsburg, 8pm ($25)
Climates + No Kill + North by North + AK & the Hallucinations @ Our Wicked Lady, 8pm ($15)
Wince + Bleary Eyed + Screenager @ Trans-Pecos, 8pm ($12)
Jeromes Dream + Elizabeth Colour Wheel + Venus Twins @ TV EYE, 8pm ($15)
Gorgeous + Gold Dime + Fred Cracklin + Free Casino @ The Windjammer, 9pm ($15)

SATURDAY JUNE 3

The New Colossus Festival presents Summer Saturdays @ 18th Ward Brewing, 1pm (FREE) feat. The Big Easy + Abby Jeanne + Sara Devoe + Telescope Club
New Pope + Tiers La Familia + parlor walls @ Mama Tried, 4pm (FREE)
Bueno ^{single release show} + Zero Point Energy + Rebecca Ryskalczyk + Scarlet @ ALPHAVILLE, 9pm ($15)
Monarch + The Poster Child + North By North + Amalia Juliane @ Berlin, 7:30pm ($12)
L.O.T.I.O.N. + Multinational Corporation + Abuso de Poder + Abism @ The Broadway, 9pm ($15)
Miracle Sweepstakes + Phantom Handshakes + Harper Love @ East Williamsburg Econolodge, 9pm ($5)
^{LPR15 - IN THE ROUND} Pissing Jeans + Carnivorous Bells + Shop Talk @ (le) poisson rouge, 7:30pm ($20)
Wunderhorse + Glom @ Mercury Lounge, 9:30pm (SOLD OUT)
Young the Giant + Milky Chance + TALK @ Pier 17 - Rooftop, 6pm (SOLD OUT)
Blue Note Jazz Festival Presents Bruce Hornsby & The Noisemakers + John Scofield + Kenny Garrett + Christian McBride @ Town Hall, 8pm ($60+)
^{Fear City Presents} OH BONDAGE, UP YOURS! - Night 1@ TV EYE, 8pm ($20/30) feat. Baby Shakes + Natalie Sweet + Josephine Network + The Out-Sect + The High Kinks + Civil Rats + Sweat + The Dracu-Las + The Wanderers
Semaphore + Velvet + Percocet @ The Windjammer, 9pm ($15)

SUNDAY JUNE 4

Young the Giant + Milky Chance + TALK @ Pier 17 - Rooftop, 6pm (SOLD OUT)
^{Fear City Presents} OH BONDAGE, UP YOURS! - Night 2@ TV EYE, 8pm ($20/30) feat. Mel Machete + Killer Kin + Vixen 77 + Soraia + Revelatours + Loretta + Tits Dick Ass + WifeKnife + Not All Heroes

I feel like I am caught in a Steinbeck novel. My wife (F63) and I (M62) have been happily married for 42 years. She was diagnosed with relapsing remitting Multiple Sclerosis in 2002. Her diagnosis was changed to secondary progressive around 2000. She has slowly lost the ability to walk and sit. She is in constant pain and takes Norco to make life tolerable. She also takes a generic mood elevator so she maintains a very good attitude and has a generally happy disposition. I work full time and care for her whenever I am not at work. Mornings I make and serve her breakfast and tea, then after she has finished her food I change her incontinence pad and chuck. I prepare her snacks for lunch and set her up with water, juice and a sugar free sparkling drink. When I return from work at her discretion I change her pad and chuck. Very often she is asleep and she will tell me she would rather not change her pads so she can sleep until dinner. I generally try to get dinner ready so we can watch Jeopardy together. I will change her pad and chuck again generally around 10:30. She tends to sleep days and stays up all night watching Television. We have two ladies who also relieve me of changing duties 6 times each week. I essentially get Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday off, although I still do the meals on those days. My wife is my best friend. We have very similar backgrounds, like the same movies and television shows. We enjoy music together and used to go to movies, concerts and plays regularly. We used to enjoy sailing and traveling. Now we are shut ins as she can’t stay seated in a wheel chair. She slides out and can’t push, pull herself back up. To see the doctor we have to use a non emergency ambulance service. We sold our sailboat around 9 years ago. Our last road trip was 7 years ago. Her MS probably started when she was around 25 years old. Hard to know for sure. When we were young we had what I thought was a great sex life. Several times a week and no pressure on either one of us. This gradually changed and sex became less and less frequent. Important to note she did choose to work full time and was often tired so I did not make a big deal over the diminished intimacy. At around 10 years of marriage I stopped trying to initiate. It took her a couple years to realize and she voiced a bit of displeasure. We had previously had many conversations about our diminishing sex life but when I would try she became more and more complacent about my advances. Being told not now or maybe tomorrow is discouraging when it is the standard response, not the exception. I still often wonder what is it that makes her not want to be intimate with me? I would feel such desire for her and when we were intimate I felt like we could take on the whole world together or just leave it behind and be together just us. When she figured out I was no longer asking she said thats not fair and you need to try harder. She also admitted she had lost desire and was not sure why. I do believe it was and still is the MS. It has now been 20 years without any intimacy other than holding hands and kissing good bye and hello.
4 years ago I had a life ending medical emergency. I had an ER doctor who diagnosed my condition and kept me alive long enough to find me a surgeon who did save my life. (I can also thank John Ritter who was not so fortunate.) i was already mildly depressed and finding myself unable to care for my wife put me in a downward spiral of self hate and disappointment. I had believed myself to be strong and invincible and now I was weak. Fortunately two of my long time friends stepped in and kept my wife in clean sheets and fed us until I could again take up my duties. Covid came and for months we were home practicing what retirement would be like. Not very encouraging. Instead of Margaritas at the yacht club in La Paz we were sharing prescription narcotics in bed in front of a big screen tv.
I eventually went back to work. Several months later my boss hired a new front office woman. The previous (much younger) woman had moved on before covid, shortly after my surgery. My first impression of the new woman was positive, she is pretty and seemed competent. I was still in a state of ptsd and more than a bit depressed. We would have group lunches where we all got to know the new person better. Gradually I began to pay more attention to her and became aware that she has a very charismatic personality. She is also single, self sufficient and confident. We have become fast friends and have had some good conversations (I suspect I enjoy them more than she does). While driving to work this past January it occurred to me I was actually looking forward to getting to work just to see her smile when I say good morning. I notice her clothes, take in her fragrance when she passes me. I never gave a thought to any of her predecessors. My wife is quite astute and has noticed an improvement in my overall demeanor and rightly attributes it to my crush on this woman. She has warned me about emotional entanglements that end badly for vulnerable people. In a sense it is already too late for that. My life is forever improved by having met and become familiar with this woman, the thought of her not being in my life is not tenable. I would never risk my relationship (meager as it is) with her for anything physical. I am in love with two women. I can’t be intimate with either of them. My life as a care giver.

I am grateful to have a support system. Role models who have been present in my life. Perhaps just a bit or monumentally absent emotionally.
Of course, me, just questioning everything. Despite what seems to be missing or why I keep chasing or accepting unavailable infatuations stems from something much deeper I’ve been trying to ignore. It was neglect or the lack of exposure of healthy models, I’d say. Some behaviours and mindsets which speaks of the misogynistic type or objectification of the woman are some I simply sincerely do not agree with and do not wish to I integrate in my life, ever. Sure, I’d love to debate and put my own view on this, but at the end of the day I am no one to fight for someone who doesn’t wish to change their core values and tinted glasses.
I’m mature and autonomous enough to demand who comes into my life and receives even the slightest bit of my energy/aura. I cannot intoxicate my thoughts with the impossibility of me attaining my highest good and most righteous. I seek justice in everything I do. Now. Once, it wasn’t the case because I knew no better. I want to heal and I can’t put myself in a place where I’m bought back to my roots.
Were you just someone unattainable and unavailable just like what I was used to? Is this a test from God where I must learn my lesson?
Fairly, I don’t feel obsessed and delusional. I feel sad because you feel so far away from me. I’m trying to better myself to be able to meet you where I think you deserve. I want to give you my best self, hence why I turn the energy back to my self and dedicate my energy into thinking for me… but when night comes and I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you I can’t help but to feel like a piece of my day feels more… ordinary.
That’s the word, I guess. You make my days go by faster, I want to latch onto every stupid joke you make and every glance I get to catch, well as expected it is for you to be at a decent position at that time and place… I just want to feel like I’m capable to read in between the lines and there is more to it.
I want you to make me feel safe. I want the romance, the slow music and the slow motion time stopping all kinds of feelings… it’s so funny now that I say this because I literally thought I only wanted one thing. I settled for that thought because I didn’t know you enough (still don’t; but gathered enough data…) to be sure you could be the one to protect my heart and not use it for your own material gain… but you’re careful. And the words you use are too. You wait and think before you speak, because when you do reveal info, they mean everything they mean. And this is why I want to believe in between the lines and not just the surface facade ‘we’ put on for the world and the system. Tell me I’m reading too much into this, I don’t care, it’s my subjective opinion.. I feel like I could trust you. Although sometimes we do get heated moments where we both trigger or offend the other, but there had never been malicious intent, only few reality checks. Heck, you’re my biggest motivation. When you trigger me, I just want to prove you wrong hence I do ten times better and harder so I can aim at what I wish to achieve. And I love it when you praise me. (Again, might this just be a childhood core of mine which needs healing?) whatever psychological effect you have on me, I want to assure you it’s not… obsessive.
It’s calm and quiet and I love to walk around you, feeling grounded and confident. Sometimes I turn the other eye because I wish to be more modest and regard you in the position you are in, by all respect… but sometimes I want you to know you’re all I think of and want to run safely to you with open arms. It would be silly to say that I won’t let go but it’s evident, I even got used to your touch, as sensory stimulating it can awkwardly & intensely get. I’m glad I secretly flatter you quite much and not too overwhelming to the point where you’d have to push my away because you’re uncomfortable… I’d always want to make you feel safe opening up to me.
I come in with heavy baggage. I have so many, scars. And I’m so happy I was able to handle my emotions well enough to not force you in with me, without consensual confirmation. More over, I mostly had to held myself back from over spilling and info dumping you. Of telling you how much I can relate to you and how that was also my favourite color… I sensed it in you too, before you would agree how certain things I shared was what you aligned with too… it’s pretty satisfying in my brain. It just seem to puzzle up well together, bits of mine and yours… as simple and genuine as it went…
Now I miss you and I’m not jealous. Are you jealous you’re not with me? I feel impatient. I want to see you but I can’t. I must wait. And be patient and trust when we will align. By then, I want to be my best self for you, and for me. All the hard work and healing I’ve done prior meeting you all paid off.
Might this be the reason why this has been such a sweet & soft relationship? ~ Yes, I was initially cold. But see, was I worth getting warmth to? Was I worth discovering without the fast tales of inconveniences? I enjoyed every bit of figuring you out and piecing you all together like a block of lego.
I think of you when I don’t physically feel safe. I know I am safe when I am with you. And you won’t ever be a creep. You have integrity, discipline and respect.
I love seeing what I look for in someone appear and present itself. It feels like all the time I was praying for, was not for nothing.
One day, there won’t be any more of this endless cycle… I won’t need to put up with certain toxicity and the like… I will be surrounded by strong moral individuals who are able to communicate and discern their needs rather than to choose a temporary fix and pure personal gain. I can go on forever about individualistic & collective culture but to say that selfishness has no room for humanity unless you’re being selfish for the benefit of adding more value to humankind with your actions.
I pick you. You’re the one whom I cherish most. It saddens me a lot that you’re away, I’m away, but it’s okay right? Because sooner than I’ll know, you’ll be right beside me and I’ll get to hear your voice that you don’t normally use with others. Just me. And for that, I somewhat feel special. Maybe it means something for you. Maybe because I have the right to hear that side of you, even if I’m not allowed to by conventions, but having feelings is pretty valid. Let me honour my feelings, alright? I love you, indirectly. You may never know… but I do somewhat. Somehow, I feel safe to express it to you, nonverbally. You probably, definitely got the memo. Yeah, you may suck at remembering topics, or can’t pick up on emotions so well, but I made sure you would understand my language… it was beautifully crafted just for you. After all, that’s what masking is for. I’ve gotten used to it now, adjusting to new people and not knowing and knowing when it is ok to be myself.

My bf (36M) of 6.5 years cheated on me (30F) again. I am going to try and make this short….In 2020 I found out he was cheating on me with 2 other girls. I was heartbroken, devastated and had to leave town. I ended up forgiving him and we gave it another chance. 2021 was an amazing year and 2022 was basically another year from hell. The cheating continued, I started to get super sick because of all the stress. At this point, I was in super deep and didn’t know how to walk away. 23 days ago I found out that he got back with one of the girls he cheated on me with in 2020. They have been back together since last summer and he’s introduced her to his family and have talked about marriage. When I found all this out I contacted the other woman and told her the full truth. I sent her evidence and basically all the supporting facts. She made it seem like she was going to stay with him regardless. He ended up blocking me from everything to protect this other woman. How can someone be so evil? I feel used and betrayed in every single way possible. I don’t know if they are together - I refuse to stalk social media. All this makes me so sick because he’s giving her everything I wanted. I have been by his side since day one and forgiven him for everything. He legit used me as a place holder. I’m scared that they are going to live happily ever after and I’m never going to recover from this. I’m currently at the airport writing this post on my way back home and can’t stop thinking about him. I know I need to move forward and see this as a huge blessing. But my heart doesn’t understand that right now. I wish I had the strength to write down every bad thing this man has put me thru but it’s not even worth it. If you ended up reading all of this, thank you! I would really appreciate some advice or anything! Thank you!

I'm a 21F, been having Trich since I was 15, it's been almost full 6 years and I haven't been able to grow my hair except for 1 year, and still struggling with my eyebrows.
I'm Middle Eastern, so I have a strongly shaped aquiline/roman/hooked nose, and with my weak jawline, and super slim face, I'm not the best looking person you'll ever see, and Trich is making it much worse.
I've been using makeup since my Trich started, it's all started just drawing block brows at middle and highschool, which got all my classmates questioning, and pretty embarrassing looking back at it. And since I'm a Muslim, and I wear Hijab, I don't really have to worry that much about my hair, but back then a lot of my classmates used to ask me if I shaved my head because soke of my hairlines used to normally show up from the front, and now they don't exist.
Getting back to makeup, of course I got much better in it, and I got really into ift, but I can't go in a full glam everyday, and I still look so weird if I only drew my eyebrows on.
My go to everyday makeup is just drawing my euebrows on, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick because I have anemia and I need to bring some colours to my face or else I'll look dead. That's what I've been doing for years, but now I can't even look in the mirror because of how I look, my eyebrows is all eaten up and my face looks supr dull, not to mention the dark acne spots because I have OCD and never been able to leave my face alone.
I literally have to go out every day for college, and to work whenever I'm able to get a summer job, and I just can't simply make myself look a little alive.
Another thing, my mom keeps threatening me everyday that she will rip off my two wigs, one I bought myself amd the other was given to me by a friend. She doesn't pay for therapy, and since I'm a student and I'm not working right now, ofc I have Zero pounds in my pocket, she doesn't pay for meds, she doesn't pay for hair meds, she doesn't pay for hair oils, she just keep scolding me over my trich and demanding me to take of the wig I'm wearing.
My body doesn't have what it takes to make my hair grow, I don't have anything, neither meds or oils to help my hair grow. My hair been over 7 months and still hasn't grown an Inch, and same with my eyebrows, they take months to look decent, which is not normal.
I don't have any kind of support system around to help me stop pulling, and I can't stop pulling, and all what I have is my mother who has been abusive to me for my whole life, physically and emotionally, just scolding and threatening me over my Trich.
She literally said two time in the same week that she will "kill me" if my hair didn't grow back.
This post took a weird turn, from me hating how I look like tl hating on my mom.
It's just a ranting post and nothing will help anyway, I'm just so fed up from myself and from how my mom treats me because of something that I obviously don't have control on.

I am a aroace individual, which means I experience LITTLE to NO romantic attraction, so I mix up platonic and romantic love A LOT. Being aroace has affected me, like being VERY LONELY! I get so lonely sometimes, that I used to start gaslighting myself into having crushes, which I don't do anymore thankfully, but this is one of my experiences with that.
Last summer, I didn't have a lot of people to talk to, which caused a lot of loneliness. I started thinking of my last relationship, which made me think of how lonely I was, and, surprise surprise, I made myself think I had a crush on one of my closest friends (lets call her Gecko I guess).
Couple days later, May 25 probably, I was talking to my friend (let's call her Ghoul), and the conversation went to crushes, she started to ask me if I had one, so I told her I did. Then she went on to guess almost every single person in our classroom at the time, which I immediately said no to all of them, but then she guessed "is it Gecko?" And if you know me irl, you know I suck at telling lies. She has the bright idea to play Cupid himself and try and set us up! She says "Oh! I'll go ask Gecko who she likes" and I couldn't say no to that! SURPRISE!!!! Gecko likes me back, she asks me out, I say yes!
Couple weeks, maybe a month or two later. I'm on a call with my friends, I'm laughing and having fun! I get a text from my new GF Gecko, and speaking of Gecko, couple days before this, I start thinking if I'm loosing feelings. I talk with Gecko, and she starts saying that she wants to breakup, and that she was sorry and that she still loves me deeply! I tell her, "It's alright! Y'know, I wanted to breakup as well, I think I mixed up platonic and romantic feelings!!" And we agree on staying friends and I move on with my day.
Couple hours later, I get sent to a GC on Snapchat. It has Ghoul and Gecko in it, which I thought nothing of. Ghoul starts typing while me and Gecko start talking in the GC, and in the middle of our conversation, Ghoul says "imagine not loving your first real girlfriend, you really hurt her!" Which I was shocked to say the least! I start trying to explain myself, so I start saying of how I'm aroace and it's hard to tell sometimes, but nobody would listen! Ghoul starts going on about how all my friends think I'm a b1tch, and that I hurt Gecko! I didn't know it hurt Gecko, I thought we agreed on it.
This was awhile ago, but I still wonder. . . WITA? (sorry if this was a little wrong, or my grammar was bad, I'm still working on my writing!!! Lemme know if you need more info!)

I’m a 6’0 23 year old male. I barely smoke and haven’t done edibles in a while. My first time was when I was 20 or 21. I always wanted to stay clean to get a government job. When Covid hit I said screw it. I did brownies and infused treats a lot for a couple of months probably almost a year then stopped. Switched to these delta 8 100mg gummies and did that for a little till something went down and also experienced depersonalization. Started using carts then stopped and haven’t did that since last summer. I did smoke in February once and that’s it. To let you all know my tolerance, with a premium delta 8 100mg gummy, I have to take a quarter or half of it. Never the full thing. I always been paranoid with urine drug test thinking I’ll fail if I do anything. I’ve taken one and passed but i hadn’t done anything yet atp. I’ve passed an mouth swab a few days after I smoked in February and passed and was nervous about that mouth washing and drinking water like crazy. I want to know how can these test sense if you do it here and there or often and how far back does a urine test go. I will be applying for government jobs soon and I’m sure I will pass but I want to know if I smoke during the summer or do a edibles once or twice, will doing that hurt?

I apologize if I am everywhere with this post.
I’m currently entering the final days of my junior year, and soon I’ll be senior. That means I have to pick a college and start my adult life. But I don’t know what I want to do.
Well, I sort of have an idea, but my mother disapproves of it.
My mom and I have never really seen eye to eye on a lot of topics, this being one of them. She turns down almost every idea I have brought up. And it feels frustrating and demoralizing for me. But I understand why she does it.
My mom immigrated here when she was in her late teens, and saw how hard it was to get a job. She even changed her name in order to increase her chances of finding an occupation. And I know she just wants the best for me and I should take her advice, but it’s hard when I don’t fit her ideal lifestyle for me.
I’m not that smart. I wasn’t born gifted. I was average. I think what helped me was the workbooks they made do over the summer during childhood. I was decent at math at a young age but that was it. I was fed this idea that I was intelligent, that I’m at the top. But I’m not. I take honor levels classes, never AP. I refuse to take AP because my work ethic is horrible. Sometimes I’m motivated and let my creativity run wild. Some days I just get nothing done. All my life I worked toward getting straight A’s, but as I went through high school it slowly went downhill. This year being the pinnacle of it, when I got a C for Pre-Calc. I didn’t make it to the top 10% of my class.
My mom was disappointed by this, and I was to. But this made her put even more pressure into me choosing a college.
See there’s another thing. I play multiple sports. One of those sports I’ve been playing since I was 8 years old. I’m not incredible at it, I’m mediocre. Sure, I’m really good for my school team but to be fair (and no disrespect) my school team is pretty bad. And if you compare me to my travel team, I’m probably the weakest link. There’s nothing too exceptional about me. But my mother thinks I’m so great at this sport, and everyone else is dog water. But I’m not. I’m just mediocre. And the thing is I hope to play this sport in college, but that means I have to get noticed. And I have to make a video of my skills and send emails out to coaches. Which means I have to pick a college. Which means I have to pick a major.
But it’s hard when you don’t know what you want to do.
It’s hard to pick what you want to do when you feel like you’re mediocre at everything or you’re just plain indecisive. Growing up, my careers choice changed rapidly. I want to be an animator, then an engineer because my parents suggested it, then a lawyer, and then a paramedic.
(Lawyer: my mother said I should be lawyer for copyright or divorce, though I wanted to pursue criminal justice. Paramedic: My mom works in the medical field, and knows the horrors that paramedics see and doesn’t want me go through it while getting low pay. Engineer: I never knew what kind of engineer I would be and honestly I’m not the best at math. Animator: I’m not that good of an artist)
And most of the time my career choice reflected on what I’m into/hyper fixation on. Now, I’m thinking about entering the industry of TV/Film production. I got into this because I randomly signed up for a TV/Video production class, and I loved it. I enjoyed making movies. I love letting my creativity flow and seeing my work come to life. It combine my great passion of writing with my love for videos/media. And at first it gave me the idea of becoming a director, or at least someone who works behind the scenes on TV shows or movies. Then it slowly shifted into broadcasting. Growing up, I had a bunch of people tell that I would make for a great commentator. I’m a pretty loud and friendly person. I love sports. And whenever my team would play little games, I would commentate. So I’ve been looking into that.
But what if I’m not good enough? What if I don’t make it? There’s a lot of obstacles in front me, what if I can’t get over them? Am I truly passionate for it or is this another hyperfixation? What about my love for writing? Will I even get a job with the degree? What if it’s a waste of time and money?
I’m so confused and time is running out quickly. I’ve hardly done research for colleges, and careers because I’m afraid of growing up. I just feel so overwhelmed. And I know I can go undeclared but my parents would disapprove and I would feel like a failure. I don’t even know what to look for. And I want to get away from my mom, but I’m too scared to go so far. I’m just… I don’t know anymore.
Sorry for the long post and for any grammar issues.
TL;DR: I’m struggling with picking a major and a college. And the pressure from my mother isn’t helping.

Hi, throwaway for privacy reasons.
This has been bothering me throughout the whole day. I (27F) have been dating my BF (30M) for 5 months now, and it has been amazing. I love everything about my BF, but except for one thing. My BF has a routine that's been going on for 9 years. Every two Sunday afternoons, he always got a massage, which is understandable since he likes to exercise four times a week. He has been going to the same massage therapist for the past 9 years. His massage therapist is an independent worker who has her own office. With all this said, I wouldn't care if it wasn't for these listed reasons:

• He told me he doesn't trust anyone else to give him a massage aside from his therapist.
• His massage therapist is a woman who is close in age with him.
• He likes to be completely nude, even if it's under the sheets.
• He allows his massage therapist to massage every part of his body, including glutes, and excluding his genital area obviously (at least I hope so).
• I feel like since he has a GF, this is pretty inappropriate.

We had an argument 2 weeks ago and I told him how uncomfortable, and that I'd rather he either gets a male therapist or goes to the spa that I like to go to. He told me it doesn't matter who the person is, the only massage therapist he trusts is his since she knows how he likes his massages. Eventually he gave up and told me he'll stop going to her for my sake, but that he's still not going to agree with my suggestion. Well yesterday I got a couple massage reservation at my spa and told him I wanted him to go with me. He said he already told me he's not getting massages from this point and onwards unless it's his. I told him that he's being immature and that I paid a lot of money for this reservation, but he didn't budge. We ended up having another argument. We haven't talked all day today, and I still think it's inappropriate for opposite genders to be close the way they are. My friend disagrees with me and is telling me that they're nothing more than a professional and a loyal client. So I don't know reddit, AITA here?

Hi! I'm Dylan (they/them). I turned 24 a few months ago and am primarily looking to meet new friends and something that could develop into a long-term relationship. I currently live in Georgia, but am actively looking to move out of the south. I'm demi, like taking things slow, and am primarily aesthetically attracted to femininity or androgyny regardless of gender.
A little bit more about me:

• Physically, I'm 6'1", shaved head, pale skin, blue eyes, and a fairly slim build (albeit I gained and am currently losing some fall/winter weight). Presentation-wise I'd say I'm more "soft-masculine" I guess? My fashion is minimalist with lots of natural colors but I like to throw in more feminine accessories/earrings or painting my nails. I've tried more feminine fashion and I like it, but not all the time and not enough to wear regularly. I love colder weather since I get to wear all my favorite sweaters and scarves! I used to be a gym rat in college and I'm getting back to my old gym habits, which is really exciting.
• I'm looking into developing a more androgynous style since I think that'd be cool as fuck.
• I work as software engineer and I love programming and messing with computers. From the moment I was exposed to programming I knew I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. I use Arch btw.
• I love cats and sharing pictures of my sweet furry friend.
• I've been described by others as sensitive, empathetic, and thoughtful. I'm pretty introverted and shy in group situations but love having thoughtful conversations and learning about people and what they are passionate about and why. I'm very affectionate and cuddly towards people I'm close to, while being cognizant of their boundaries of course.
• My greatest passion is competitive fighting games, mainly the Guilty Gear series. Playing and studying the game, going to tournaments both local and afar, and interacting with the community bring me immense joy. Starting in late 2022 I've been traveling and taking weekend trips to bigger tournaments, and I'm always training for the next event!
• I deeply love music and play a few instruments, but I've mainly been focusing on classical guitar. Neutral Milk Hotel is my favorite band of all time, but I'm constantly exploring lots of music across pretty much every genre. I have soft spots for jazz, folk, prog/math rock, some alt rock, and psych rock though. In the classical world I tend to be drawn to the Romantic period composers. I also collect vinyl!
• Running, longboarding, or skateboarding through local parks is one of my favorite ways to spend time outdoors. I also enjoy hiking, but never really go unless it's with others.
• Huge coffee nerd and night owl. Those are probably related. Figuring out people's coffee tastes and brewing them a cup they love is really fulfilling.
• I'm vegan for the animals and I'll gladly cook badass vegan meals for people.
• I read a little bit every day. Right now I'm reading Thinking, Fast and Slow and the Dune series (really excited for the new movie!). My favorite novel is definitely The Catcher in the Rye, and I'm also a massive Tolkien nerd and read lots of philosophy and psychology, although I'm definitely a novice in the latter two fields. I'm attempting to learn Japanese as of a few days ago, too!
• Some of the non-fighting games I'm playing right now include Tears of the Kingdom, Dwarf Fortress, and Pokemon. My favorite singleplayer game is Morrowind!
• I hate cars and one of my big goals is to move out of the south and to a city where I can be car-independent.
• My favorite movie is The Big Lebowski and watching it never fails to make me smile. My favorite anime is a toss-up between Cowboy Bebop and Ping Pong the Animation. Naruto gets on the honorable mention list for how many times it's made me cry.

What I'm looking for in a romantic partner:

• Someone in roughly my age range (20-30-ish) who is passionate and caring and enjoys absurdist/dry/goofy humor interspersed with deep conversations. I tend towards identifying as sapiosexual.
• Someone who is also affectionate!
• Someone okay with monogamy. Polyamory is really cool, but not for me personally. I'm kink-friendly and a sub-leaning switch. Don't really like discussing sexual tastes in public forums otherwise.
• Someone who would be fine with long-distance if circumstances dictate that.
• Someone who is a child-free leftist.
• Someone who is alright with me being an introvert who can get overstimulated easily.
• Tobacco use is a deal-breaker for me in romantic contexts. I don't drink alcohol for physical health reasons but I have nothing against alcohol use in non-addiction contexts.

If you're interested in reaching out then I'd love to hear more about you in a message or chat!