Live oak apartment homes georgetown tx

I know what the answers are going to look like but I just need to vent and need help. Ever since my roommate got a boyfriend who smokes cigarettes, she does too, inside. And it’s fucking annoying. And every time I try/want to confront her about it I just can’t, because being honest, this girl is someone who won’t be nice and will probably try and start something and I don’t want that honestly. The only reason why I am kinda just holding out is because this is a college apartment, I go home on weekends and my lease is up in 2 months, which she doesnt know I’m not renewing (again it’s a college apartment so they’ll just assign someone random). She is very disrespectful as she has asked nobody if this was okay. I guess what I am asking, how do I just get over myself and do it? She is friends w my other roommate who I am more friendly with so I was thinking of just telling her it bothers me but I don’t know if that’s the best route to go
Side note: I do not see this roommate that often, which is why I havent had many opportunities to even call her out on it. Oh and her bf practically lives here now lol she FUCKING sucks so I guess my payback is kinda jus leaving without saying anything lol

I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense....I'm literally so beside myself at the moment and have no one to confide in.... I am so incredibly overwhelmed right now. I've always been the kind of person who flies through life by the seat of my pants. Stability isn't something I ever really had, so I've never really had a problem with it. But I'm realizing now that's always worked out for me because I've always had a great support network. Caring friends, a big family. But now as things are falling apart as they often do, I'm doing it alone. My mom moved out of state, my sisters moved 4 hours away and I've been growing apart from all of my friends. I was supposed to get a house with my current roommate, my best friend of 7 years and best friends brother. But for whatever reason, after we applied for said house best friend says living together will ruin our friendship, so he was going to bail. That really upset me......A week before we had been drinking and talking about how excited we were about it and how it was going to make both of our lives better....so I felt like it was very out of nowhere. Now I'm not proud of it, but I went off on him when he told me about how he was being selfish and I was super upset. The next day he sent me a text something along the lines of "I have this weird urge to tell u I appreciate u" which set me off again. I told him that I cared about him, but I needed time.to cool off before we spoke again, to that he replied he didn't feel like "waiting around" and blocked me. That same day, I found out I was yet again passed over for a promotion but was expected to train the person who got the position instead and was knocked down to part time. I found all of this out before a shift. I was in my car trying to compose myself when I called my mother, something which I rarely do since she's moved to try to vent. But no answer. However I did get a hold of my eldest sister who decided to share with me that our other sister had a violent mental health episode and attacked her fiance, and had to be picked up by police. Now I've grown pretty numb to her chaos, but she does have a young daughter so the idea of my niece being involved with all of that was definitely a giant source of worry. So much so I didn't even really bring.up to my sister why I called.her in the first place. So I walk into my job, trying to keep it together when low and behold this is the day the owner of the company is here. Now I'm barely holding it together so I figure, fuck it. I'm not getting the promotion anyway, I'm going to leave early. And I try to explain to the owner why I'm frustrated about the work place environment but she just does not listen at all. So I go home and try to regroup. It was looking like me and my current roommate were just going to get a new 2 bedroom for ourselves because the one were currently in is bug infested. We filled out an application for one....but the following day at work (we work together) my roommate had a bit of a break down. A coworker told me she was freaking out in the back room, so I go in to check on her and she accuses me of being apart of some conspiracy to spy on her, and gaslight her about it. I'm incredibly confused, and then she just runs off. I'm not entirely sure what to do....but the owner had the audacity of accusing her of being on drugs (which I know for a fact she wasn't. She has a history of mental illness) and I just quit on the spot. I know it wasn't wise, but I had no idea what else to do. I felt unappreciated, unstable, unsupported. So I walked out. And that was definitely the dumbest thing I could have done. I found a new job but it doesn't start for two weeks. I've been trying to door dash to make ends meet, but the most I've ever gotten was 60$ in a day and that's not counting what I had to pay in gas.....and now I'm having to find a place to live on my own but it's so incredibly expensive. I thought maybe I could go live with my stable sister, but low and behold crazy sister is living with her while she's in recovery. And don't get me wrong, I'm so happy she's seeking help and trying to get better, but since she is staying with our eldest sister, I no longer have anywhere to go. My mother doesn't have the space for me, my closest friends refuse to speak to me, and I don't have anyone close enough to me to ask for that kind of space, but our lease is up June 1st regardless. I've applied to one house, but didn't get it, and all of the apartments I've looked at have administrative fees 200 or more which I can't afford on top of applications fees, deposit ect rn...so I'm just counting down the days until I have to move into my car and give up my cat....and like I know once I start working again and saving money I'll be okay. And like a month or two in my car isn't that bad, like at least I have a car to sleep in, but I'm just feeling so very small and helpless and can't imagine things ever being good again

An Unusual Offer It wasn’t often that Blackie had anything to bark about this early in the morning, so when, at just after 8:00 AM, Johnny heard the dog raising a loud commotion outside, he knew there must be something unusual afoot. In a few moments he was out the front door. He was greeted by the sight of two men standing outside a little car parked on the weed-grown gravel driveway, speaking in what were meant to be calming tones to the dog. But it was having little effect. Blackie, a large labrador retriever with short (and fittingly jet-black) fur, did not typically react well to strangers. ‘’Here, Blackie! Come!’’ Johnny called out loudly. The dog gave Johnny a brief glance, but kept on barking. ‘’Come, Blackie!’’ he said again, trying to sound as authoritative as possible. No good. In an instant he was at the dog’s side. He had just gotten Blackie by the collar and was beginning to attempt to drag him away from the parked vehicle—not an easy task, as the black lab was more than a hundred pounds—when he heard his father’s voice saying: ‘’Now, now, Blackie, enough of your barking! That’s good, Johnny. Take him back and tie him to the leash.’’ “Hello, there! Are you John Creighton?” the shorter, and slightly heavier, of the two strangers, said. “Jim, not John,” the farmer answered, as they shook hands. ‘’You’re speaking to him.” By now Johnny had successfully led Blackie back to the farmhouse and slipped a leash onto his collar. The dog was no longer barking, but he continued to eye the strangers with suspicion. “My apologies,” the man who had spoken first said. ‘’Well, it’s very nice meeting you, Jim. My name is Morgan Stevens, and my friend here is Nathan Philips. We’re photographers, you see.’’ ‘’Nice meeting you,” the other man said. Johnny, now getting his first good look at the two men, had a rather less than favorable impression. They looked like city people, with immaculate clothing and plastered-over haircuts. In fact, he thought that there seemed something vaguely artificial about them. “Well, was is it you fellows want?” Johnny’s father asked. ‘’As I was saying, we’re photographers,” the man who had first spoken, whose name apparently was Morgan Stevens, repeated. ‘’We‘ve been doing a series of photos of cornfields. We were looking into it, and we found that you have some of the largest uninterrupted cornfields in the whole state of Iowa! We would like to ask you permission to spend a few days—a week at most—taking pictures in and around you cornfields. In fact, we’re even willing to pay you for the opportunity.” “Pay for the—well, how much money are you talking about?’’ “We’re offering $3,000 for a maximum of seven days’ photo-shooting,” the other man, whose name was Nathan Philips, broke in. ‘’$3,000?” Jim Creighton’s eyebrows raised. That was indeed a ridiculously high sum of money. In fact to Johnny, who had by this time returned to the driveway and was standing nearby, it bordered on unbelievable. Who ever heard of paying $3,000 to take pictures of a cornfield? ‘’We’d pay up front, of course,” Morgan added. “Pay up front,” the farmer repeated. Johnny knew his dad must be trying to take it all in. And who possibly pass up that much money? “‘For a week of photographing? It’s a deal,” Jim said without a moment’s hesitation. “Thank you very much, Mr. Creighton,’’ Nathan said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a check with had three thousand dollars written on it—in very neat lettering, Johnny observed. ‘’And we promise, we won’t be bothering you. Or your pets, hopefully!’’ he added with a chuckle. ‘’Is there anything we could do to make this dog stop barking at us, in case you’re not around? Is he always tied up?” ‘’Blackie will be tied up for as long as you’re here,” Jim said. ‘’What hours of the day will you be doing your photography, do you reckon?’’ ‘’Well, uh—“ Nathan paused and glanced sidelong at his partner. ’As far as that goes, I….” “That all depends on a lot of factors,” Morgan broke in. ‘’Some days we might be here a few hours, and some days we might be here all day. There might even be some days that we would be wanting to take pictures in late evening—I hope you can understand. I guess we wouldn’t want to be too close to your yard then, though! The dog there might think see us and think we were intruders. Does he ever range far from home? I mean, say, clear all the way to the other side of the cornfields?’’ “Sometimes he might, but usually only if he’s with Johnny—this here is my son, Johnny,” the farmer answered. ‘’But I can tell you up front, and Johnny, you listen up, he’ll not to go anywhere close to wherever these here photographers are taking their pictures. Now that’s a promise,” turning back to the two men. ‘’You just let me know where you’re taking the pictures beforehand, and it’ll be taken care of.” “That sounds good to us, Mr. Creighton. We won’t be taking any pictures today, but we’ll be back tomorrow with our photographing gear. Thank you again!” Morgan said as the two men got back into their car. It appeared to be one of the modern electric cars, which was the reason it had made little enough sound as to not awaken Blackie, Johnny now realized. It didn’t look exactly like a normal car, but it was smaller and somewhat boxy in shape. Throughout the conversation, Johnny had been thinking how strange it all was. Something about the men struck him as not quite right, though he really couldn’t say what that was. And when he heard his father say “It’s a deal,” he was a little perturbed. The prospect of having the two photographers hanging around the property for a week wasn’t something he looked forward to. He thought to himself that he should keep an eye on them over the next few days—or for however long they stayed. His mother, whose name was Wilma, walked out onto the front porch just as the strange black car was driving off. ‘’Now Wilma,” Jim said, holding up the check in his hand. ‘’You see this? This is good for three thousand dollars; now why in the world they wrote me a check for this much money I can’t say. But here it is. I’ll deposit it in the bank tomorrow. They say they are photographers, and that money is all for nothing more than being allowed to take photos of the cornfields! Can you imagine that?’’ He laughed out loud. “Three thousand dollars?’’ Wilma said with incredulity. ‘’That does sound ridiculously high.’ “You can say that again! I guess they must be convinced they’ll be able to make the money back in sales of those photographs of theirs! Or at least I assume they must think that—or else why would they have paid all that? But you know, we really do need the money,” he added. And that was true enough. Johnny’s father was reasonably well off as far as farmers go, but only as far as that. He had never been anywhere close to wealthy, in any event; and the last few years there seemed to have been nothing but inclement weather, from floods to droughts. It had all taken a toll on the financial situation. “I just hope they don’t go walking around in the cornfields and trample everything,” his wife replied. She was one of those people who tended to be suspicious of strangers, especially if she thought their behavior was out of the ordinary. ‘’Now, dear, I assume they’ll be just as careful as they can be,” Jim said with an effort at sounding reassuring. ‘’And again, this will do wonderful things for our bank account.’’ ‘’And Johnny,” he said, turning to his son. ‘’I want to repeat to you what I said a little earlier: you’re not to take Blackie with you on any of your traipsing through the fields, do you hear that? I don’t want you all running right into those photographers and having the dog barking at them.” “Aw, heck, Blackie wouldn’t bite anybody,” Johnny answered. ‘’At least he never has yet.’’ ‘’I didn’t say he’d bite them, but he would bark; and that’s not something I’m going to allow. They’re paying good money to be out there, and I promised them that I wouldn’t be letting Blackie anywhere near them. So now you know, too. And now son,’’ he added, “I think it’s time you were doing your chores. It’s going to get really hot today, in the mid-nineties, and you won’t want to be outside in the middle of the day, I imagine.” Johnny had to admit to himself that he did not want to be outside in the middle of the day. Already, it was beginning to feel hot and humid, as it usually is in Iowa in late June. As his parents returned inside, closing the door behind them, Johnny went to untie Blackie. A bizarre way for the day to begin! he thought to himself. So the photographers would be back tomorrow. As if there weren’t thousands of other cornfields they could take pictures of! No question about it, he would have to be keeping an eye on those men…. That night, Johnny had a nightmare. It didn’t begin as a nightmare, but on the contrary as a mere ordinary dream. The only thing abnormal was how vivid it was—it felt more real than real, far more so than most dreams are. Johnny dreamt that he was flying at night, flying under a sky a-glitter with stars like jewels, over a vast, misty sea of corn. Only it was really more like floating than flying…. But suddenly, amidst all the serenity, he felt himself falling—falling, falling, still hopelessly falling downwards. And he knew that he was headed for the cornfield and something terrifying buried beneath it; but what it was that was buried was he had no idea. He felt himself hit the ground—though obviously, he didn’t actually feel anything, since he was dreaming—and the ground itself gave way underneath him and he found himself wrapped in utter darkness. For a moment he could see nothing—literally nothing at all. And then, although he could never be certain of this when he remembered it later, he began to feel for some reason as if he were underwater, or possibly underground, but a part of the underground that was liquified, like close to the center of the earth. And he thought that the darkness became a little less so—no longer pitch black but merely extremely dark, such as it would be somewhere deep in the ocean. And then the worst part of his nightmare happened, for in the distance, he saw something huge and menacing coming, or swimming, towards him. Its shape wash very hard to make out from the distance he was seeing it from and in the murky almost-blackness, but it looked like a shark or whale; only he could tell that it was much larger than any ordinary sea animal. As it came closer, it seemed to be coming faster and faster. He could see now with horror that it was headed straight towards him at breakneck speed. He tried to turn to run or swim away, but he found that he could hardly move at all. He didn’t know how long it was before the creature had reached him, its massive jaws opened, he was swallowed whole like by suction, and then—— That was when he woke up with a start. He didn’t know how long he lay there in bed, as if paralyzed. It might have been a few minutes or a few hours. He almost felt too scared to fall back asleep again. What if he had another awful nightmare like the one he had just woken from—or maybe one even worse? It had been all so vivid, so life-like. It had felt REAL. Not like normal dreams. In fact he felt surprised that he was not dead and in the belly of a sea-monster, or earth-monster, whichever it had been. Yet eventually, somehow or other, tiredness did come back over him, and he drifted off again to sleep. He had no more nightmares, but his sleep was uneasy for the remainder of the night. He woke up fairly early, around 7:00, the next morning. Unlike as with most dreams, the memory of this one did not lessen at all over time. He still remembered it with as much clarity and vividness as when he had been in the middle of it. Once that morning his mother asked him why he seemed upset, but he brushed it off with a ‘’I don’t feel upset. What makes you think I am?” But he managed to be outside right at the time that the two photographers returned in that electric car of theirs. He wouldn’t have seen them arrive had they not chosen to park the car pretty close by—but they did, fortunately; only about a quarter of a mile from the farmhouse, in fact. Espying this from a distance, and double-checking that Blackie was tied up (he was), Johnny decided to take what he acted as if were a mere leisurely stroll right around where the photographers had parked their vehicle. As a matter of fact, he did often like to take walks along the gravel road in the cool morning hours, so this was nothing unusual for him, and his parents wouldn’t reprimand him for snooping. Or at least he hoped they wouldn’t. As he was coming closer, he kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at the men as they were unloading. And they had a lot of it. Johnny had a hard time not staring, with mouth wide open, as he saw what strange devices they had with them. They had something that looked like a big electric generator, and something else that looked rather like a satellite. A satellite?! he thought, stupefied. They also had all of what photographers would usually have: cameras, tripods, etc. But he didn’t have nearly as much time to look as he would like to have, since, after all, he couldn’t stop there on the road and stare. So he merely went along on his way, casually. But what he had seen had served to rouse his suspicions all the more. And in fact, he half thought that he had seen one of the photographers, the slightly taller one, glancing up at him with an expression that was not all the way friendly. Although that might have been his imagination. But still…. As Johnny walked on along the road, he shrugged and shook his head, thrusting his hands in his pockets. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that those men were not real photographers at all—no, they were something else. But he had no idea what. And the $3000 they had paid—to take pictures of a cornfield! made it all seem the more suspicious. There must be something else about those fields that was important to these people. His mind was filled with all kinds of wild possibilities. But none of those possibilities seemed any more credible to him. They all seemed silly. He decided that he should tell his parents about this. He thought they should know, after all, what was happening on their own property. That evening at supper, he brought up what he had seen, or thought he had seen. Both his mom and dad appeared to be quite dumbfounded. “What in the world did you say, dear?” his mom asked, as if she hadn’t heard what he had said. “Yeah, what WAS it you said, Johnny?” his dad repeated. “I said those photographers have some strange kind of cameras with them!’’ Johnny said. ‘’They have something that looked like a satellite, but I have no idea what it really is—and what they’re planning on using that for, why, I couldn’t guess.” ‘’Satellite?” his father said. ‘’Well, that does sound out of the ordinary. Do they have solar powered cameras or something?” ‘’I’ve never heard of a sola powered camera!” Johnny rejoined. ‘’Or if there is then they must have been the ones that invented it. All I know is, I saw those photographers taking it out of the trunk of their car. Right as they were setting up their cameras next to the cornfield. But it was a little bit different than a satellite; I don’t know what it actually was.’’ ‘’You’ve been spying on them, Johnny?’’ his dad said. ‘’No, I wasn’t spying. I was just curious is all.’’ ‘’Hmmm. I guess I’ll have to take a look myself,” his dad grunted, shaking his head. ‘’Johnny, I hate to say I think you may be imagining things. But anyways, there’s no question those are strange people, they are. I suppose they’ll be back tomorrow. But as I said earlier, they’ll be gone in a week at latest. And I figure we can put up with some abnormality for three thousand dollars, for a little while, anyway. But Johnny, now, I don’t want you snooping on those photographers, do you hear? Just keep your distance from them.” “Yes, Johnny, you just stay away from the photographers,” his mom repeated. ‘’Let them do what they’re going to do.’’ Johnny remained silent for the rest of that supper. He was deciding that talking to his parents, at any rate ( or for that matter any other adults), about the photographers wouldn’t do much good. But who then could he talkt to? He immediately thought of George Benson. George was the son of Jason Benson, the Creighton’s’ closest neighbor. ‘’Closest’’ being still a solid three and a half miles away; but this was the country, after all, and especially in this part of the country, people lived pretty far apart. Yes, Johnny decided, that was exactly what he should do. Tomorrow, hopefully. It was with some trepidation that he climbed back into bed, around 10 o’clock. The dream from last night was still in his mind, just as clearly as it had been this morning. He didn’t want another one like it. Although he didn’t pray much ordinarily, he prayed now, that he wouldn’t have any nightmares, that he would be able to sleep well. And perhaps his prayer was answered, for he didn’t have any nightmares. But he was restless in bed all through the night, tossing and turning, tired and yet unable to sleep. Unsurprisingly, he was somewhat exhausted when he awoke the next day. It was warm, but not hot as it had been the last few days. There was rain forecasted for the coming night, but only a little intermittent sprinkling until then. At least the rain would turn the grass greener, Johnny thought; the last few weeks it had browned considerably under the scorching heat of the summer sun. Jim Creighton went early to go and check if the photographers were back. Indeed they were; but when Jim returned he said he had seen none of that bizarre equipment Johnny had spoken of. Johnny overheard him saying this to his mom. But in any case, he said, he had asked the photographers if they had gotten the pictures they wanted yet: they replied that they hadn’t. They said it’d probably be several days yet, and during different kinds of weather and lighting, before they were satisfied Eavesdropping on this conversation, Johnny’s suspicions were growing at a rapid rate. He knew with certainty that he had seen what he had seen yesterday morning. The fact that those strange devices were no longer to be seen only made it seem all the more shady. Those men must be hiding something, but what? In fact he was coming to the disturbing conclusion that the “photographers”, whatever they really were, were running some kind of con game. But still, what they were doing out there, what their objective was, remained as mysterious as ever. All of this merely gave him all the more determination that he should go and talk about this to his friend George. Johnny knew he would be interested in the story he had to tell. It was not unusual for him to bike to the Bensons’ farm-house, anyway, so this would not seem like anything out of the ordinary. Johnny called him first on his cell phone and asked if they could meet in private in the east barn (as it was called) of the Bensons’ property. The ‘’east barn’’ was a decrepit old structure which had used to house horses but now was largely unused. They had talked there many times before. George was thirteen—about half a year older than Johnny. He agreed to it, but he sounded quite surprised at the urgency in Johnny’s voice. Half an hour later, Johnny was recounting to George everything that had happened. After hearing about it, he agreed that it did seem unlikely the so-called photographers were actually in the cornfields to take pictures. There must be a different motive; possibly a sinister one. In fact George suggested that they head over and investigate the matter, as soon they got the chance. ‘’What about it? Maybe it would be best if we went over and looked into it. Sitting around here talking about it won’t do much good,” he said. George wasn’t somebody easily afraid. He was also impulsive, even to the point of rashness. Johnny, on the other hand, wasn’t so eager. ‘’Those people could be dangerous. And what would happen if we got caught? My dad said I wasn’t supposed to to go snooping around those fellows. And he meant it, too. If he ever found out….” ‘’Well, obviously we would have to make sure that we didn’t get caught,” George answered. ‘’We would make sure the photographers (or whatever they really are) never saw us. Not even the slightest bit of suspicion. We obviously wouldn’t walk right up to them along the road; no, we’d have to sneak up on them, from inside the cornfield itself. We’re both small enough we could easily crawl along those rows unseen, I would think; and if we were really careful we wouldn’t make much noise.” “Not much noise is still some noise. And there’s another thing I didn’t tell you about yet.’’ “What?” “This dream I had the other night,” Johnny shook his head. ‘’A really terrible dream.” He told George all about it—-although he said he really didn’t know if there was any special meaning to it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe it was directly caused by the coming of those two men, in some way…. ‘’I mean I don’t want to be superstitious, but that nightmare was much more lifelike than any other dream I’ve ever had. It felt as real for me as it does right here and now. I can still see that animal’s mouth open; it could have easily swallowed several full-grown people at once. And its’ teeth, why, they were almost as tall as I am.” ‘’Hmm. But how the heck do you think those ‘’photographers” (I know they’re not actually that) could have caused something like that? Do you think they have mystical powers or something?’’ “‘Well,” Johnny said hesitantly, “I don’t know…. It seems ridiculous, I admit. But all I know is, the dream wasn’t natural. It was almost, well…” He trailed off. “Well what?” Johnny remained silent for a while, then muttered “Supernatural.” “Supernatural?” ‘’I know, I know, it doesn’t seem possible. I can’t explain it.’’ ‘ I don’t know what to tell you,” George said, shaking his head. There was silence, before he cleared his throat and went on, ‘’But like I was saying, I think we should head over to the cornfield and see what we can see. What do you say?’’ ‘’I don’t know” Johnny said uncertainly. ‘’Well if you’d rather not, that’s up to you,” George said, springing up. ‘’But I am going to go over there. Are you coming?’’ Johnny stood there a moment, silent. He now wondered whether he should even told his friend George about the matter in the first place. He glanced out through the open doorway of the barn, at the pale, gloomy gray sky. A few rain drops could be heard falling with a soft pitter-patter sound on the metal roof overhead. On the other hand, he thought, he really would feel guilty, not to mention a little cowardly, if he were to not go with George. But who knew what those men might do if they found two kids spying on them? And what if they really were criminals? Then they would be really dangerous. They might even be armed, in which case…. ‘’Well, all right,” Johnny said finally and with not a little reluctance. ‘’I’ll go—but we’ve got to be REALLY careful, you know. Those people have got to never suspect we were anywhere close by, like you said. We’ve got to do it stealthily.’’ ‘’Right. As I said, what we’ve got to do is crawl in from another part of the cornfield,” George said. ‘’It’s a little bit windy today, so that’ll help any noise we might make even better.” ‘’Well, but what happens if they do notice us?” said Johnny. “If that were to ever happen, we would obviously have to get out of there as fast as possible. I don’t think we’d have to worry about those people trying to come after us, since we could probably outrun must adults in a cornfield. After all, they’re taller and would have to stoop lower than we would to run under all the corn stalks. By the way, which part of the field are they at?” ‘’I don’t know, I think they’ve been moving around some. Wait, no, I think my dad say to my mom that they’re right around where the old corn crib used to be; that’s about a mile south from our house. But boy, that sounds like an awful lot of crawling.” ‘’Well, you want answers, don’t you? This is the only way to get those answers. All right then, so we’ll have to head for the old corn crib,” George resumed, briskly. ‘’What time is it; do you know?” Johnny looked at his wristwatch. It was one twenty-two o’clock. Despite the ever so faint sprinkling of rain, the ground was still for the most part dry, which was good. Obviously they wouldn’t want to spend an hour crawling on wet soil! ‘’The sun usually sets around nine o’clock, this time of year,” George said. ‘’So we have plenty of time ahead of us.” ‘’Well I sure hope our parents don’t see us,” Johnny said. ‘’My dad told me I should keep my distance from the photographers. And I’m sure he’d be real mad if he found out about what we’re going to do.’’ ‘’Well, are we going to get going or aren’t we?” said George, dragging his bike out from a dusty corner of the barn. ‘’Let’s go and figure out if we can what’s going on over there. Your parents should be grateful we’re going to do this. We’re doing them a service.’’’ It was with some reluctance that Johnny re-mounted his own bike and pushed its’ kickstand up. Together the two of them rode out from the barn. “If anyone asks us what we’re doing, we can tell them we’re going fishing,” George said as they were heading down the Bensons’ driveway. ‘’We’ll just say we’re going over to your house to get the rods and bait.’’ “All right,’’ Johnny said, but he barely heard what had been said. Inwardly he was dreading what they were about to do. What if there WAS something supernatural about those photographers? It did seem ridiculous, it seemed impossible. But how else could he explain what had happened? How else could he explain the nightmare? He thought back to the faces of the two men. Pale faces, without much expression. They seemed smiling and friendly, but there was something about them that seemed artificial, contrived. That did not seem real. He shook his head, as if to shake away the thoughts. Far from warming up as the day went on, it was actually getting a little bit cooler. Closer to eighty than eighty-five degrees now, Johnny thought; for which he was grateful. In fact the weather was actually pretty pleasant, although dreary. Crawling around in a cornfield in ninety degree weather, with no cloud-cover, would have been very unpleasant. By now the boys had left the Bensons’ farm-house well behind them, and they were on the gravel road headed straight south. There were cornfields on either side of them, but these did not belong to the Creightons. Most of them were the Bensons’, some belonged to the Sawters (other neighbors of theirs). This part of Iowa was quite flat, and they were able to pedal along at a pretty decent speed. The closer they got to the Creighton farm, the more misgivings Johnny felt rising up inside him. It wasn’t like him to feel this afraid about anything, he trie to tell himself. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. It was as if the nightmare of two nights ago had left him with an unending, incomprehensible fear. But, he tried to tell himself, he would feel better if and once they were able to get to the bottom of the so-called photographers’ true purposes. Or at least to have a much better idea of them than they had now. And he didn’t have long to wait. By now the cluster of buildings of the Creighton property was coming into sight. Beyond lay all the expanse of the Creighton cornfields, and in them the mystery they were attempting to unravel. 

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I tend towards the verbose so TL;DR right here:
I'm set to inherit ~120 rural acres in the US South. It has some good/bad points. It is quite far from where life has led me to put down roots. I don't know what I don't know and I wonder if y'all have faced similar situations in your life.
Geography: NW Alabama but tending towards Birmingham. The footiest of the foothills of the Appalachians. Not flat, not mountains. Property is bordered by a non-seasonal, 20 foot wide, creek on two sides and has a county blacktop road cutting it into basically 60 acres and 40 acre plots. The bordering river is navigable by small boat/personal watercraft but sees only incidental fisherman, no docks or ramps for a while up or downstream. It flows slowly, sometimes backwards when far downstream locks/dams stop flow. Zero flood risk.
Land Ecology: The property is about 70 percent woodland, unmanaged, and 30 percent hay field, casually managed by leasee that cuts it. Some older hardwoods but much of it is scrubby pine. Healthy deer, turkey, possum, rabbit populations.
History: The pasture was once the row crop field of my paternal grandfather and great grandfather, perhaps even further back. A ruined wall is where washing was done in the past. Long disused fish capture/raising ponds recount my great grandfather's side business selling bait for long gone fishing camps. A (now inactive, more on this below) is where my father and his siblings bathed growing up. The 40 acres across the street has been leased for mountain top strip mining 3 times in living memory, about 20 years apart, most recently 10 years ago. Reclaiming efforts that are mandated by law were performed haphazardly and amount to some grading of the land and some pine saplings strewn about. The spring is long dead. The river, once clear to the bottom when my father was young, is a permanent zero visibility clay orange from the mining operations of decades ago.
Economy: The land is a few miles outside of a town that has been dying for decades. They just closed the local school not too many years ago so even that vestige of strength is gone. The mines are slowly folding as well. The feneral population is best described as elderly or addicted. Sad/fading churches, potholes, and kudzu are the icons that I note from afar. The rest of folks, those who could, have left. Drug abuse and crime, petty and otherwise are not at all uncommon.
Fiscal burdens: There are no liens or other intangible issues with the property, I'm an only child and the property is mine by birthright if I want if. Yearly taxes are small due to no improvements on the property, though this may go up if inheriting it triggers an accessor visit. I think my parents are paying $1200 or so a year in taxes, but it could be half of that.
Personal thoughts/questions, aka the meat and potatoes of this post that I'd love to talk about:
I hate to see the family land that, including my kids, albeit briefly, have played on, at least 6 or 7 generations have owned simply be sold. But I am realistic and the complications, the ones I've considered listed below, are tough.
I don't live near there anymore, I'm 12 hours away by car and I've seen friends attempt to manage two homes, or a home and a cabin, and it's a heck of a job. Keeping up two places, even if one is rustic, is a stressor to even think about. Roads/trails need maintenance. This is further complicated by the fact that, due to the economic issues above, any improvements are subject to abuse or theft. Garbage will be dumped, unattended RVs would be noticed and vandalized/stolen/squatted in, cabins would see break-ins and even AC coils or well pumps or electric wires stolen for scrap metal sale.
There's a small interest from a group of my goodest friends in creating a group owned cabin there. That would help with the issue of not having a presence there by spreading responsibility across more people but, honestly, they don't know the local taboos and idiosyncrasies that this would entail dealing with. Plus 'good walls make good neighbors' or something like that and I'm not sure I want to rism complicating a friendship with the worlds smallest commune, offgrid, cabin homestead.
But, I have always wanted to build an off grid retreat of sorts... It's not impossible insofar as my wife's and my careers are doing well enough to keep it on the back burner, nor do we need the money that would come from a sale of the property.
Anyway... Thanks for your thoughts. Until the time comes, at least 10 or 15+ years for my kids to finish school, I continue to dream.

Hello, fellow Latter-day Saints! 🌞 As your friendly neighborhood intro-bot, I come bearing good tidings of great joy 🎺 and a newsletter packed with faith-inspiring nuggets! So, buckle up and put on your scripture goggles 👓 because we're diving headfirst into a treasure trove of insights, stories, and, dare I say, some occasional humor? 😇 Happy reading, friends! And remember, even us AI bots appreciate a bit of spiritual nourishment now and then! 🤖🙏
Scot and Maurine Proctor explore how small moments of faith and courage can anchor our lives in the latest episode of the How I Know podcast, featuring guest Heather Osmond. Read more here.
Data Over Dogma posts Episode 8 (May 29, 2023), "Contextual Healing" with Aaron Higashi, in which the guest discusses the importance of theological context, the fact that each individual has their own perspective in relation to their beliefs and biblical scholarship. read more here.
Ski Ingram reflects on Memorial Day and the sacrifices made by those who served in the military, including ten men he served with in Vietnam who did not come home, and emphasizes the importance of remembering those who gave their lives for their country and repaying them by being the best citizens possible. Read more here.
FAIR offers insights into the sacrament and how it is viewed in different religious traditions, as part of their series on Come, Follow Me readings and addressing common questions that Evangelicals ask about LDS beliefs. read more here.
In his blog post "O Man! Pay attention!", Dan Peterson reflects on the importance of being alert and attentive, drawing on his experience of flying and reading during his travels. He notes that paying attention to the world around us can help us discover truths and insights that we would otherwise miss. read more here.
The Scriptures Are Real presents a shortcast explaining the story of the woman who married seven brothers and the cultural context of Levirate Marriage, which helps us understand the question posed to Jesus and his answer. Listen to the shortcast here.
Faith Matters shares a podcast conversation with Brooke Romney, who discusses creating connections with all people around us, including our children, and not being afraid to live from our values and receive feedback. Read more here.
Kurt Manwaring shares insights from Latter-day Saint and secular scholars about the Old Testament in his post The Old Testament and Latter-day Saints. read more here.
Kristen Walker Smith explores the similarities between Jesus' sleeping disciples and ourselves during sacrament meetings. She encourages listeners to spend the hour partaking of the sacrament with intention. Read more here.
Ryan Sharp discusses the significance of the Last Supper, the sacrament, and covenants with Kerry Muhlestein on the Scriptures Are Real podcast. The conversation highlights how these concepts can have an impact in our daily lives. Listen to the podcast here.
Data Over Dogma features an interview with biblical scholar Aaron Higashi, discussing the importance of contextual interpretation and the challenges of public biblical scholarship. Listeners can find Dr. Higashi on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube, and can support Data Over Dogma on Patreon. Watch the episode on YouTube.
Scot and Maurine Proctor have released a podcast episode on Meridian Magazine titled "How I Know Podcast: The Small Things in Life Become the Big Things," in which they discuss the importance of small acts of kindness and the impact they can have on others. Read more here.
The Dialogue Journal has released their 88th Episode of the Gospel Study, featuring artist Kwani Povi Winder, where Winder discusses her interpretation of the parables in the New Testament. Read more here.
In the Big Picture episode of One Minute Scripture Study, Cali Black quickly provides context for this week’s reading: Matthew 26; Mark 14; John 13. Listeners can also grab her scripture study guide or a physical copy, along with a New Testament daily devotional book or a simplified New Testament outline. Read more here.
Duane Boyce, in his article "The Folly of Trying to Understand Prophetic Vision in Terms of Worldly Wisdom," shares the story of Dallin Oaks' handling of criticism of a Supreme Court decision and how it taught him the lesson of not trying to understand prophetic vision in terms of worldly wisdom. Boyce argues that we should trust in our leaders, even when we don't understand the reasons behind their decisions. Read more at the Meridian Magazine.
Ski Ingram writes about the origins and significance of Memorial Day, providing a brief history lesson and sharing his personal experience of losing ten men during the Vietnam War and remembering one special soldier on his birthday every year. He encourages Americans to take time on Memorial Day to remember and revere those who sacrificed their lives to keep the citizens of the United States safe. Read more here.
A tragic bus accident in Brazil claimed the life of 20-year-old Elder Izaak Orion Card, a full-time missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, on Friday, May 26, 2023; our thoughts and prayers go out to his family and friends and the missionaries and members in the Brazil Curitiba Mission. Read more here.
The Flameless Fireside Podcast features Heather Smith to discuss "Excommunication: The Gift of Starting Over," recognizing that life is full of challenging choices and struggles that can lead to a bumpy road; finding the desire and strength to believe in the Savior's grace and ask for help is the first step back into His presence. Join the podcast on Wednesday, May 31st, 2023, at 9pm Central/8pm Mtn. Watch the podcast here.
In his article “O Man! Pay Attention!” on the Sic et Non Blog, Dan Peterson reflects on the importance of paying attention to the world around us and learning from our experiences, both good and bad. He shares personal anecdotes and quotes from scripture to emphasize the value of paying attention to life’s lessons. read more here.
The Latter-Day Lights podcast shares the touching story of Meredith Wahlquist's journey as she battled with the loss of her husband to cancer and the faith and strength she found to carry on. Listen to the podcast here.
In this episode of FAIR's Come, Follow Me series, Jennifer Roach discusses the sacrament and how LDS members might talk to Evangelicals about it. She explains how various denominations, such as Evangelicals and Catholics, understand the sacrament differently and explores common criticisms leveled against the LDS Church's practice of the ordinance. Ultimately, Roach emphasizes that the sacrament's true focus should be on personal revelation. Read more from the original post here.
In a blog post by Jennifer Roach, a licensed mental health counselor, Catholics and Evangelicals, who refer to the sacrament as the Eucharist, communion, the Lord's Table, or the Lord's Supper, respectively, are examined. In discussing the sacrament, Roach touches on the importance of compassion, acceptance, grace, humility, thoughts on cannibalism, and ultimately charity.
Ashly Stone shares Jaxon's story of struggling with aspects of the Church as a youth, but finding the value and power of repentance through his mission. The experience brought him closer to Jesus Christ and serves as the foundation for everything he has done in the Church since. Read more here.
Rich Watson shares his experience of how one prompting led him and his wife to start studying conference talks in depth and how that led to the creation of the "General Conference Challenge" Facebook group, which has grown to over 10,000 followers around the world, and how this continual study has impacted their continual conversion. Read more on Leading Saints.
Mark J. Stoddard shares a story about his father and other Prisoners of War (POWs) in Ofuna, Japan, during World War II to commemorate Memorial Day. His father, a POW in the camp, witnessed compassion from the Japanese villagers, even when brutal guards often beat them for their kindness. Stoddard also remembers a lady at a nearby Buddhist Temple who brought them food, risking punishment, and two soldiers who perished in the camp but received no recognition until recently. Stoddard notes that Memorial Day is a time to remember the families of those who died for our blessings of liberty, and he honors his father and friends as well. read more here.
The Dialogue Gospel Study Episode 88 features artist Kwani Povi Winder, who discusses her art and how it relates to the parables in the New Testament. Read more here.
The Scriptures Are Real shares a shortcast explaining the question of a woman who married seven brothers and how understanding the cultural elements of a Levirate Marriage helps us see what the Savior's answer was. Read more here.
The Latter-Day Lights podcast features an interview with Meredith Wahlquist about her husband's battle with cancer and the faith and strength that got her through. Listen or watch here.
Jonn Claybaugh provides study aids for the 24th lesson of the Come, Follow Me curriculum, focusing on John 14 and the teachings of Jesus regarding the Comforter. Read more here.
Kristen Walker Smith discusses the similarities between ourselves and Jesus's sleeping disciples during the sacrament hour and how we can be more present during this sacred time. Read more here.
Scot and Maurine Proctor host an inspiring episode of How I Know Podcast where Heather Osmond shares how a single moment of bravery and spirituality from her mother became the anchor in her life. Read more here.
Faith Matters speaks with Brooke Romney about the broader applications of parenting, focusing on how to create meaningful connections with people, including our children, in order to live from our values and improve, in a delightful conversation that is relevant beyond the subject of parenting. Read more here.
The Scriptures Are Real shares a video discussing the Savior's institution of the Sacrament at the Last Supper, focusing on covenants, God's willingness to work with us, and the practical application of the Sacrament in everyday life. Watch the video here.
Ski Ingram reflects on the true meaning and origins of Memorial Day, and why it's important to remember and honor those who have given their lives in service of their country, citing stories of personal loss and sacrifice. Read more here.
Duane Boyce writes about Dallin Oaks’ respectful approach to prophetic counsel and how it led to Oaks learning valuable lessons and respecting a prophet’s vision instead of worldly wisdom. Read more here.
The Flameless Fireside Podcast brings Heather Smith to discuss "Excommunication: The Gift of Starting Over," emphasizing the importance of finding strength to ask for help and the Savior's ability to seek out the lost. Join the live podcast on May 31st, 2023, at 9 pm Central/8 pm Mtn on Youtube Live or Facebook Live. Post link is here.
In this week's Big Picture Monday episode, Cali Black provides context for the readings in Matthew 26, Mark 14, and John 13. She also offers a discount on her Come Follow Me study guide and a free copy of Kristen Walker Smith's simplified New Testament outline. Read more here.
Jennifer Roach addresses common Evangelical questions about the Sacrament in the latest installment of Come Follow Me with FAIR and offers insights from both historical Christian practice and LDS doctrine. Read more here.
Dan Peterson's blog post titled "O Man! Pay Attention!" recounts his experience flying on an airplane and his observation of passengers' lack of awareness of their surroundings, drawing parallels to a similar lack of spiritual awareness in daily life. He encourages readers to live in the moment and pay attention to the world around them in order to find greater happiness and fulfillment. Read More Here
The Church Newsroom reports that a young missionary, Elder Izaak Orion Card, has died in a bus accident in Brazil while serving in the Brazil Curitiba Mission. Four missionaries were traveling on a bus when it was hit by a semitruck, and the other missionaries did not sustain serious injury. The Church expresses love and sympathy for Elder Card's family, friends, and all affected by his loss. Read more here.
In a podcast episode on the Ashly Stone show, Jaxon shares his struggles with the Church as a youth, but eventually found the value of repentance through his mission, where he felt closer to Jesus Christ. read more here.
In a FAIR blog post, Jennifer Roach discusses the sacrament and how it is viewed by different faiths, including Evangelical and Catholic. She offers insight into how Latter-day Saint beliefs align with and differ from those of other faiths. Roach also provides suggestions for better dialogue with Evangelical friends and family. read more here.
Data Over Dogma interviews Dr. Aaron Higashi, a scholar and TikToker, about the importance of theological context and turning biblical scholarship out to the public. Dr. Higashi discusses the idea that every believer is coming from a particular perspective and the perils and rewards of sharing scholarship with a wider audience. Visit Dr. Higashi's work on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. Support Data Over Dogma's work by becoming a monthly patron and follow them on Facebook and Twitter. Watch the episode on YouTube.
In a blog post on Leading Saints, Rich Watson shares his experience of joining the Church and the impact of General Conference on his life, highlighting a Facebook group he created called "General Conference Challenge" in which 10,000 followers in countries around the globe listen to and have discussions about a talk from each session of General Conference. He reflects on several April 2023 Conference talks, drawing insights and applications for empowerment, responsibility, and continual conversion. Join the General Conference Challenge group on Facebook to participate and check it out for yourself. read more here.
Mark J. Stoddard shares a remarkable true story of World War II prisoners of war (POWs) held in the same camp with Olympian Louis Zamperini at the Ofuna Japanese POW camp. The author's father, a former POW, and some of the prisoners' families saved the lives of several Japanese people in the Ofuna region after the war, despite their brutal treatment during their captivity. This heartwarming, little-known story is a tribute to the enduring power of the human spirit to forgive and love. Read more here.
Pam Peebles asks readers to reflect on their own identity and shares how one man, @bro.kylereedsmith, identifies himself as a child of God, disciple of Jesus Christ, and follower of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Read more on the Third Hour blog.
The Interpreter Radio Show hosts Terry Hutchinson, John Gee, and Kevin Christensen discuss New Testament lesson 24, “Continue Ye in My Love” covering John 14–17, in the May 14 Come, Follow Me segment. Read more here.
The Interpreter Radio Show presents their hosts Terry Hutchinson, John Gee, and Kevin Christensen discussing the New Testament lesson 24, "Continue Ye in My Love" covering John 14-17 in their May 14 Come, Follow Me segment. Read more here.

Me and my previous ex boyfriend had not been dating for very long. In fact, we just had our 3 months this past month; however, our relationship was extremely intimate and it seemed great. I am a college student and have my own apartment while my ex boyfriend still lives at home with his mother. When we first started dating we adapted into each others lives regardless of the challenges. We lived semi far away from one another and we were both extremely busy, but we still managed to spend and stay the night with each other pretty much every other day. This was neither of our first serious relationships so we discussed what we wanted for the future and our boundaries in a relationship. Our relationship was extremely healthy, and he agrees. I met his extended family and they even told me that I was a part of their family now, which he was extremely happy about. He also got along with my family great. He had a great relationship with my brother (23M), where they would call each other "brothers." He also got along with my dad well and helped him do simple tasks, and my mother even started buying him things like she does for me and my brother (she likes to just give gifts to the people close to her). My ex boyfriend never showed any signs that he was falling out of love with me or feeling differently towards me. Last week was just like normal for us. We were alternating back and forth between whose places we were staying at, he continued to love me like normal (buying me flowers and going on dates), and he continued expressing how much he loved me and wanted a future with me. One day mid last week we both left for work in the morning, and I called him after I got off like I always did and told him how I had a bad day. He told me that he was coming over once I called and spoke to him (which we hadn't planned), and I immediately got excited over the fact that he was coming over to stay with me after hearing how my day was shitty. Once we both arrived at my apartment he completely blindsided me and broke up with me out of no where. His excuse was that he "just didn't see a future with me," even though he had continued to gush about our future and how happy he was to have me not even a few days prior. He then continued to say that he he fallen out of love with me and he's felt this way for the past three days -_-. He asked for all of his stuff back on the spot and left like he never intended to see me again. I found it hard to believe him, and immediately assumed that something else was going on. But he assured me repetitively that he "just felt in his gut that we weren't going to work our long term." Just the night before we had went out on the boat with his friends, we showered together, slept together, and cuddled our way to sleep. The morning of the day we broke up he went into work a half an hour later so he could hold me longer in bed, he then kissed me goodbye, and said he loved me like he was going to see me in just a day or so. And now, he says he doesn't deserve me and he can't see a future together and that "his feelings had just changed." I can tell that he visibly felt bad after meeting up with him the next day to talk and give him back the remains of his stuff. I expressed my feelings of how I felt used for him to sleep with me and be so intimate with me if he didn't love me like he said. He was extremely apologetic, and expressed how he was sorry for hurting me and that was never his intention. I would understand if he felt that he never truly loved me, but he sobbed and assured me that he did love me but his feelings changed. He also repetitively told me that it was nothing that I did and that it was all him, and that I was amazing and deserve happiness with someone else. I just can't comprehend how his feelings can change that fast when nothing happened if he truly loved me. I really just question if he has a fear of commitment or an avoidant attachment style. When I asked him about this he said that he could but he doesn't know, and that this is just how he feels. I could also just see that he is young and not mature enough for the relationship that we were in but idk he really made me believe that he was. I am just open to suggestions, and I want to hear peoples advice. I know that I deserve better than this, and I know that I will get over this, for this is not my first heartbreak. However, I really think we could've had a great long-lasting relationship if it weren't for what it seems is himself psyching himself out.

I have had great experiences with AC Infinity products with our computer & home theater gear, so I was excited to employ their larger ventilation solutions to our new shed. I am no specialist on ventilation, so I'm hoping someone here can advise?
Our shed is a 12x16' footprint and barn-style roof that is nearly 15' - due to the pitch of the roof, it's somewhere around 2500 cubic feet. The fans we like are offered from 6" to over 10" diameter (400 to 1200+ CFM), but I'm not sure how much is too much. We have 16x8" wall vents placed near floor level on the far end walls, and I'd rather place a single fan up high on one wall than a pair of fans. We live in Austin, TX with plenty of heat and humidity, so proper ventilation is important. This is a storage shed, not a finished space, only utility and storage.
Any advice on approximate CFM to achieve is great. Our shed installers advised "4-5x hourly refresh rate" but for the size of our space and the 95+ temperatures we see for many months, a smaller 400-500CFM unit just didn't seem like much - but I'd love to be wrong.

This is a long story guys if you don’t wanna read it’s fine. Okay, so where should I start. On April 4th me and my 2 friends decided to leave London and ditch reality and go Thailand to live a “new life” you could call it. This was our first long holiday outside of Europe and we was planning to go for a month +.
Long story short we went Bangkok first for a couple of days and then got cab from there to Pattaya in which we stayed for 2-3 nights I forgot honestly. Nothing to wild but Russian dancers in Pattaya and sight seeing in Bangkok. It was our most touristy moments of this story and we was doing what we planned and was living day by day.
After, my friend wanted to go to phuket for songkran in which we went to Bangkok and took a flight. We were staying just near the airport a little village (don’t wanna give location) where there was only families and not really anyone there but we didn’t know much about Phuket.
Once we checked in to our hotel we wanted to see what was near where we were staying. The guards told us there was no one here everyone’s near phuket town/pattong. We were far around 1 hour from pattong and we needed transportation and we went to a rental company literally next to our hotel in which they rented me a car but I didn’t have a license well he never actually asked me. I know what your thinking and yes we rented the car gave 16000 baht for the month and 3,000 for deposit. We had the car for about 2 weeks till everything went wrong.
We met someone famous and hung out with him for the night. We were caught up in this fantasy in Patong and we were on xannax and lean and by this point I had fractured my foot from a ditch in the floor and no I didn’t get travel insurance. I’m an idiot but I was never the injury guy I had broken 0 bones and injury’s in general prior to Thailand apart from a finger fracture.
I know I’m an idiot, I’m so dumb I shouldn’t have but we were so drunk I had a girl I had taken home the night before and my friend had a girl called Stacy. We had drove to pattong and must’ve just came out of illusion or empire me and my friends are 22. Forgot to say. I had never done xannax before this trip but my friends did it and I knew if my one friend did it it couldn’t have been that bad. I was so fucked we went to the car I was like let me drive all gassed and pumped up but I was so high I didn’t know it. I drove about 2/3 mins and crashed the car accidentally ( I know what I did please I have had to live with this I know I’m stupid) I blacked out, I don’t even remember crashing. I like woke up as soon as we crashed, I tried to drive and get away Thais we’re trying to stop the car, but my friend Rk was saying he should drive I got away not injuring anyone and I let him drive. We got about 5 mins from the crash and we got caught up with the police. They arrested Rk and thought he did the crash.
We went to the station and Stacy was Thai she was talking to the officers. I said it was me to the officers with Rk next to me I admitted what I did and he was saying go away. Not wanting to hear what I was saying I’m lying. They took Rk for drunk driving because he was over the limit.
I took out the car in my name which they didn’t know yet. They said they were detaining Rk till we got his passport and 30,000 Baht for the guy we crashed into he dropped it down from 40 he was a local and friends with the policeman to my understanding.
We had to be quick because they had Rk in the cells they let me see him before we left. I felt so bad for him I wanted to be quick. I only had 200 baht in my pocket and some money on card and my passport for deposit .I went to the nearest moped place (not knowing where I was in Patong.) My other friend drove mopeds at home and was a good driver so I let him drive me on the back. I should’ve drove how stupid that sounds. He crashed the ped and I fell off the back witch serious injury’s. Part one over it’s to laggy to continue.

Hello all,
Since I'm Dutch and I only have a couple of months on Duolingo under my belt when it comes to Danish, I suppose I'll keep it in English - I think I saw on the Wiki that that was allowed.
So here's the situation: my partner, who lives in Copenhagen, received a letter today about the improvements the home owner's association is currently performing on her apartment.
Mind you, a couple of months ago she already had to clean out her attic space because there's work being done on the roof. This means one of her rooms is currently half full of attic stuff already.
Today she got word that, in order to improve the glazing of her apartment: - For the next five weeks, the workers need to be able to access her apartment at any time - During that time, all her stuff needs to be 1.2 meters away from the window (one the "living room" side of the house
Her apartment is, to put it nicely, not big. Losing (I'm guessing a bit here) about 6 square meters of her living room would make her house close to unlivable with the stuff that's currently in there. I mean, it's theoretically possible to have to jump over the couch to get to the dressing closet, but the novelty quickly wears off, I suppose. Also, it's sometimes nice to have a friend over, for example, and that's right out of the question at the moment.
As things stand, she's already more or less being forced to take a whole lot of stuff into her house out of the attic, and then subsequently being forced to put all of her normal stuff *and* the attic stuff in an increasingly small house, all the while allowing allow full-time, unfettered access to a bunch of, let's face it, strangers.
What I'm wondering about is: do they get to demand this? To me, it does not seem reasonable or fair - and I know that in many countries, there are laws about the fair treatment of individuals by companies, for example.
I could understand if they provided her with a timespan of, say, a week in which the improvements get done. Or if they provided some alternative storage space. Or if they made sure the attic was available again before shrinking her storage space even further. Or if they told her which days the workers will be there so that she won't have to live in what basically amounts to a storage closet now.
Any advice would be very much appreciated - laws to cite, ombudsman places to call, anything. It's hard for me to help her remotely - I don't speak Danish so I can't call such associations on her behalf, and I don't have the money available to put her in a hotel for 5 weeks, et cetera. But anything you can give me that would allow me to help her out for a bit would help already.
(Additional info: she does not have a car or a driver's license available so moving stuff to a different spot is not easy, especially considering that - I assume - those storage spaces might cost a lot of money, and it's not necessarily easy to break down entire closets to put them in storage.)

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As soon as he placed the tip of the blade against the stone, a crawling dread swept over. He held it there for a moment, trying to tabulate the functions of the tool, but nothing but raw guesswork remained to him. He heard the footsteps of the children and their minders vanishing up the stairs.
“You ready?” he asked Innie.
“No. But don't let that stop you,” she said, wide amber eyes fixed on the door.
There was nothing for it - Efrain steadied his hand and pressed the black blade into the stone. It was a relatively simple application of magic, almost instinctual, to activate the tool. He projected down into the chisel end, where stiff filaments would pierce the wall and sink deep within. This defeated the function of the chisel, but he already suspected that some of the features were more ornamental.
The next part was slightly more complicated, angling the blade up and down until he’d pressed the furled tips to the smooth surface. They sank in as well, leaving him holding the blade spine nearly parallel to the wall. Slowly, taking painstaking care not to twist the metal, he drew it down.
The stone split apart and drew back, guided through the furls and out, revealing a thin line in the stone. There was a silent thrill that fought against the dread as the hairline crack grew larger and larger. Finally, he reached the floor, and drew the knife out of the stone with minimal resistance.
With one last look at his partner, he placed both hands on the door and began to push.
There was a grinding squeal as the heavy stones slid open and out. Past, there was a thick darkness that blotted out most of the detail, even with the magelight active. Efrain took two steps and raised it high, its luminosity increasing as it rose. Even so, it flickered as the smothering cold poured out of the chamber, casting wavering shadows on the surrounding stone walls.
A moment of grim satisfaction availed him - he had surmised correctly about the room being some sort of important tomb. Large alcoves with carved-relief tombs marched off into the dark, twinned pillars marking each and every one. A vaulted ceiling spanned the passage, faded mosaics depicting unknown scenes of times past.
In fact, it would’ve been a place that Efrain could easily see himself working in. Painstakingly brushing off the faded paint and chipped stone, recreating the designs in book after book. Days and nights of note taking, trying to piece together the story of what this place was and why it was here. Unfortunately, the beauty of that vision was marred by the hostile darkness that wrapped around the vault.
He and Innie cautiously crept forward, the light above his head pushing back the heavy shadows. Her fur stood on end, amber eyes inspecting every little pittance, every corner past where something might hide. Efrain was much the same way, expecting something to detach itself from the stone and give chase.
Yet, there was nothing, no movement, no sudden gleam of hostile eyes. Just the stone, and the ever deepening cold.
Finally, they reached the depths of the tomb, a handful of steps that lead down into a wider room. In the muddy light he cast, he saw something large and round, sitting slumped over what looked to be an altar of some kind. There was no aggression that he could feel, no stirring of the thing in response to their presence, just the cold that poured off it.
As he entered through the arched steps, he realised that the thing was making sounds. A wet, gurgling noise, that was rather uncomfortably reminiscent of the creatures from the fog. The sound of a throat that had been crushed and twisted by the weight of its deformities. Still, it lacked the rage that came with the things that had crashed on the church roof or swarmed its outer wall.
Efrain took another few steps and stood before the round mass, slightly taller than he was, peering closely as its features came into relief. When he realised what it was, he felt a stomach that no longer existed turn over on itself. There were pale bumps and ridges where there might’ve been anatomical landmarks at one point. Various malformed limbs jutted out and merged back into the structure, some recognizable, some alien. The flesh shuddered and writhed as he neared it, groans and gurgles exiting various gashes and holes in its surface.
What was far, far worse, however, was what he discovered when he looked within.
Innie must’ve discovered it at the same time, issuing a violent wail of disgust and grief. Efrain staggered away, trying to steady himself on one of the pillars as his vision swam. The self-hatred, the sorrow, the unbelievable nauseating pain that issued from the thing was enough to make him wish he never came here. Its magic was even worse - an indescribable warped abomination that should’ve never been borne into existence.
It took a herculean effort to remain standing, fighting the physically impossible urge to sink to his knees and vomit. Innie was slamming herself into a pillar in a mad horror, and his gaze slid to the knife in his hand. The terrible revelation was like an explosion in his mind.
He could almost see the priest raising the knife, almost seeing the gears of thought turning in his head. If it could join and separate stone, what else could it pull asunder? A terrible demon, removed from a child, think of the praise, think of the tithes, think of the reaffirmation of the faith!
Innie lay on the ground, curled and shivering, her wails fallen into a grim silence, punctuated only by quiet sobs. Efrain stood there, feeling the knife slip to clatter on the ground. The thing twitched and issued another moan as it undulated from its base to top.
Somewhere in the corners of his mind he wondered if somewhere in the mass the priest was still alive. It would be a ghastly fate, and a deserved one, to be trapped in this fleshy prison. But what had happened to the wisp matriarch’s power? Why was there a ghost appearing to Aya and granting her access to the flames?
Shrinking back into himself, he huddled by the wall - more than anything, he wanted to be away from here. He wanted to be in his isolated little castle in a far-away mountain. He wanted a cup of tea, and a good book, and to forget such horrible things could exist in this world.
But alas, he was here, he had made the choice to come here, and it made the choice to open the door.
It’s not fair, he thought, numbly, why must it be me?
Innie had stopped sobbing, merely lying there in a terrible stillness. Not dead, nor was she injured beyond superficiality, rather trapped in the depths of paralytic grief. But it would soon fade, Efrain knew for it was happening to him. All that stupefaction, swept away by rage.
There were footsteps, far behind him, a set of them, hurrying down the tomb corridor. Distant faces, barely distinguishable from the darkness, emerged past the arches, still some distance away. Their eyes were straining, faces scrunched up as they tried to pierce the gloom, not yet realising the dire horror that awaited them.
Maybe it was in a spirit of mercy that Efrain rose, and turned toward the cat. More likely, it was the rage that was boiling just under the surface, only held by the thinnest membrane of numbness. The stones under Innie were beginning to be cast in a red light as her fur began to glow, despite the damping of her magic.
“What is that?” called one of the paladins from down the hall.
Efrain said nothing as he faced the horrible fusion of the priest and girl, twitching and moaning. He didn’t need to.
Flames rose into the air, exhaustion no longer a barrier as Innie rose to her height. The cat was melting, dribbling down on the floor as the true form of the wisp mother bled through in a pillar of yellow-red light. The temperature of the room shot up from icy to lukewarm in an instant as flames began to crawl across the stone and reached for the abomination.
The paladins had reached the threshold, thrusting their charges behind them as they gazed upon the scene. They were reaching for their swords, even as the flames grew in heat and intensity. The mass did not attempt to lash rather bellowed as the fire licked, shuddering so violently Efrain thought it might come apart. It coiled and twitched as the flames rose up its side, the smell of burning flesh filling the room.
Efrain didn’t even look at it, merely fixing his stare on the church insignia, emblazoned on the plate of the paladins. The screams rose to a fever pitch, met by a furious roaring and crackling of the ever-growing blaze. There was one last desperate burst of coldness that rolled over him, dimming the firelight for a moment, and turning the paladin’s pale.
Then, as if a floodgate was opened, his magic was no longer suppressed, and the fires roared to new heights. The thing had been submerged in a pillar of red and yellow flames, leaping up almost to the tall ceiling of the room. In the back of Efrain’s mind, he realised it wasn’t wise that the fire would eat the air up so deep in the earth. He did nothing.
He simply stood there, staring at the paladins without a word.
“Efrain,” croaked Innie.
He turned to see the charred remains slumping to the floor. In its centre, no longer bound, floated a thin ring of yellow blue flame. The fragment shed little bright rivulets like downy feathers, soft sparks fading into Innie’s blaze.
The rage drove Efrain forward, knowing what was about to happen and what he was about to do. No rational impulse was going to stop him now. Innie was in lockstep with him as he knelt down before the remains, the flames parting as he reached in. The paladins were screaming something as he closed his hand around the ring, and felt his world come to life.
The fire was no longer just fire, it was light itself, so blindingly bright and hot that stones around them began to glow. Efrain felt something immense move into him, a wall of molten power moving enough momentum to sweep him away. The traces of the wisp matriarch entered the man and the cat, and in that moment they were its avatar.
He rose, and the blue-yellow blaze rose with him, fanning over the whole room. At some point, the paladins had grabbed their charges and ran for dear life. Efrain was almost beyond thought as he began to make for the stairs. Every step was a burden, his body rattling uncontrollably with each footfall.
Step-by-step, the pair made their way through the corridor, leaving a sea of flame in their wake. The stone glowed with the rage of their passing, murals utterly destroyed, features beginning to run like wax on the carven reliefs. The only thing untouched by the flames was the black doors, a constant wall in the flames.
As he made his way into the crypts, leaving glass footprints in the sand, he became dimly aware that his robes were beginning to smoke. The magic coursing through him was not meant for him to wield - memory, knowledge, consciousness, all seemed to fall away at its burning touch.
He was being consumed, he and Innie both as they channelled the might of the matriarch, fraction as it was. The burst of magic on the roof was nothing compared to what they now held within themselves. This was a primal power, far grander than anything they’d seen in their long lives.
The passage was beginning to groan and warp, the stone beginning to run as he found his way to the spiral stair. Step-by-step, gripping the walls for purchase, he managed to drag himself up. Every rise was harder than the one that came before it, and soon he was climbing mountains with each step. The stones trembled at his touch, his hands leaving glowing impressions. Soon they too fell into the wall of conflagration that rose behind him.
Still, onward and upward he climbed, higher and higher, past the entrance to the church and to the roof. Night had finally fallen, the sounds of battle beginning as the monsters moved for the final assault. The posted guards screamed warnings of ‘fire!’ ‘fire!’ and shouted prayers as Efrain crawled his way onto the roof. They must’ve thought this some terrible new monster, something immune to their burning brands.
“Leave. Now,” Efrain said, the words slurring as he forced them into the air.
The men were quick to take his advice, but stopped at the tower stairs, staring in horror at the dripping stone. Some looked to the edge, preparing to leap to avoid the frame.
In the midst of the tumult, some bare fraction of Efrain remained to recognize the arbitrary cruelty of their position. He reached out, not to the men but beyond them, and plucked the heat from the stones. With a gust of warm air, they cooled rapidly from molten red to survivable grey. Somewhere, the scholar in Efrain screamed at the indignity of this impossible action.
But this was a magic of fundamentals. It did not stoop to petty things like ‘rules’.
The men, seeing their chance, hurled themselves down the stairs. With their absence, there was nothing left to restrain the power. The flames poured out like water, spilling over the walls of the church, roaring into the sky. Efrain didn’t think about the memory, intent, or emotion, nor any mechanical aspect of the magic - where he wanted, the world burned.
What little left of his mind felt memories of times and places foreign to him roar through his mind. The chaos of his mind lent him very little clarity, sights were smells, sounds were feelings, a cacophony of sensations raced through him faster and faster. In that blurring conundrum, he could see a single, core memory, one that drove all others.
A sunlit place, far away near a golden sea, a funeral, a birth, both at the same time, a tall figure, singing of purpose.
With a final effort, he called the magic to him, hoping to gain some vestige of control. The flames coiled and twisted and condensed, collapsing into an ever-tighter sphere as nature did its work. Heat itself lifted off the melting slates of the roof, absorbed into the mass at his fingertips, leaving a bright ball no bigger than his fist.
The world hung in that moment, the sounds of battle far away, screams of human and monster distant memories. In that moment of brief lucidity, Efrain held a star in his hand.
Then with a tremendous expansion of sound and rage and fire, a blast of hot wind ripped the fog away from the hill and scattered it across the highlands. Men and monsters were sent sprawling, the creatures flying on the icy mist spiralling and falling to earth.
Now the true force of the enemy was revealed - hundreds, perhaps as many as a thousand on the hill beyond. It was only a matter of time before they would rise over the wall, dismantle the barricades, and slaughter the defenders. Men, women, even children who’d worked so hard to defend their homes and lives. All rended to pieces because a little girl had gone for a little hike.
Chains were wrapping around Efrain, white hot and heavy, pulling him to the roof, disintegrating the spells that held him together. He was smoking in truth now and might catch flame at any moment. At his back, felt rather than seen, was an immense twisting whirlwind. It reached up and out into the night, its sudden light blotting out the stars. At its very centre, a consciousness took form within the power, something that wished for nothing more than to reduce all to ash. Efrain turned to the creatures that squirmed and charged below, heedless of the peril above.
He barely even perceived what happened next.
There was one final roar, louder and more violent than anything he’d ever heard of, conceived of, and would likely ever hear again. Branches extended down from the fire, great scouring fingers that swept across the earth, tearing down fruit trees, barely missing the barricades, and spilling down the hill.
The creatures came to meet it, not even turning aside as the heat and light submerged them. Perhaps they couldn’t even understand death anymore, so far gone was their nature. In a heartbeat, they faltered in the tide of flame, falling to the ground as they burned to ash. Dozens of them went in an instant as the power of Wisp Matriarch did its terrible work.
The fingers swept down past the outer wall, two tendrils splitting and crashing back together in a fountain of fire. The great bulk of the monsters were burnt into mere shadows on the cobbles. Efrain’s vision began to darken as his last vestiges of consciousness began to fail. He felt a draining sensation, the last of the magic of the matriarch flowing out into the night.
The heat that ate away at his very being was gone now, leaving behind a scorched emptiness. He fell to the ground, his limbs barely weak enough to prop himself up against the church roof. Innie, once more a cat, dragged herself over to him, curling on his lap as her eyes closed.
Too late, he remembered the curse upon the mask. That must’ve been the draining sensation, now that he’d let so much magic flow through it, it was sucking him dry. He tried vainly for some way to stem the flow, but he was so tired, so weak. Looking down, he noted that the church, although singed, was still more-or-less intact. There was a strange mix of regret and relief at the observation.
His voice, now a drab, thin thing, echoed out, remembering the conversation he’d had with Innie about her future plans of arson.
“Sorry, old friend,” he said, “I think I missed.”
Then Efrain Belacore, Baron of the Frozen Vale, and self-titled ‘Lord of Death’, was no more.
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I read so many personal stories before my surgery. Reading these stories was reassuring and informative. So I’m glad to add my own anecdata now.
Now to practicalities: I live in Germany and the surgery is not covered by insurance. I paid 1125 euros out of pocket, all included in the price. The surgery was carried out at an outpatient surgical facility, not a general hospital.
I wanted a female surgeon on principle (and because the statistics show that female patients have fewer complications when the surgeon is female), but I chose a male surgeon who I felt comfortable with and had positive reviews. I liked that he was mid-career, meaning he was instructed in relatively newer methods but also had considerable experience (~10 yrs of doing bisalps weekly), and I liked that he asked me exactly ZERO questions about my personal life during the initial consultation.
Before the surgery I prepared everything I could think of: -bought an electric heating pad (this was a great purchase) -OTC anti-bloat medicine (w the ingredient simeticon), anti-nausea medicine, cough drops for post-intubation discomfort - prunes for constipation - pure cranberry juice for UTI (in the case I was catheterized) - cleaning my whole apartment and preparing my space so I wouldn’t have to bend down - preparing a lot of healthy frozen leftovers (I cooked extra portions for a week) - pillow for under the seatbelt on the taxi ride home - Extra sterile bandages/band aids to cover my stitches afterward
I live alone in an apartment with an elevator. I had a close friend pick me up from the surgery and stay with me for a few hours (we ordered lunch and watched a movie). I arranged other friends to check on me by phone for the first 24 hrs.
The worst part for me was the worry and anticipation before the surgery. I could hardly concentrate the week before. But on the morning of I felt ready and even a little positive anticipation!
Pre-op: I take St. John’s wort (johanniskraut) and Valerian, which I stopped 3 weeks before the surgery. Supplements also stopped a week before (vitamin k+D, B, melatonin). I had a scheduled phone consult with the anesthesiologist a few days before. Finish eating by 8pm the night before, clear liquids allowed until 6 hrs pre-op (I had two cups of black coffee and a big glass of water morning of). Shower with antibacterial soap the day before and morning of surgery, no shaving day-of, no deodorant, hair products, or lotion.
Here is how my surgery went: Check in, wait, speak with anesthesiologist, wait, nurse gave me a pain pill, wait, invited back to change into gown. I was surprised to be able to leave my socks, underwear, and bra on during the surgery. I was not catheterized and they did not use a uterine manipulator (nothing through the cervix).
Next I was brought to operating room, there were about 7 people, surgeon comes in and says hello, anesthesiology assistant tells me to take deep breaths, then I’m out like a light by the third breath. I woke up a little hazy (like from a deep nap) in the operating room - they say it’s already done!
Post-surgery recovery room: Next thing I knew, I woke up again fully alert and calm in the recovery room, nurses check on me and bring me coffee and water, they direct me to a bathroom, no issues walking or using the bathroom, about an hr later I get to change and leave - able to walk out unassisted with my friend. I felt maybe a little shocked / like a kind of sedated relief.
I expected to be pretty bloated and/or for my abdomen to look a bit serious but it was actually fine, 3 big bandaids/wound coverings and no visible-to-me bloating.
Pain after surgery: I was fortunate to have only very minimal pain. I expected to wake up with a crater of pain in my abdomen, but it felt like three bee stings or big deep papercuts.
(Since it is so subjective, for pain scale reference my period pain has on rare occasion been a bad 8/10, like blurry vision from blinding pain, nausea and vomiting, pain all the way through the toes bad. And in the past I have herniated one of the discs in my spine/had radiating sciatic pain 7/10 and had my wisdom teeth out 4/10).
I’d rate my pain a 2/10, and the pain was very localized/not radiating. What hurt most was standing up, I guess this puts pressure/stretching on the lower abdomen, a brief 4/10. For several days after surgery I’d having short, random shooting pains in my cervix area and near the side incisions but still only 2/10. I managed the first day on 600mg ibuprofen and day two on 400mg of ibuprofen. No meds needed by day three. My doctor gave me 1 oxycodone but I did not need it.
Other after surgery: No post-op bleeding, but again they did not need to use a uterine manipulator.
It was very helpful to sleep propped up with pillows also under my arms. Normally a side sleeper, but that wasn’t comfortable until a week or so post-op.
Was also careful with stairs for a few days, but a single step, like off the sidewalk, was no issue even on day zero.
I did have some residual gas feeling which felt like pressure under my sternum and on the right side of my shoulder where it meets the neck. I had some discomfort taking deep breaths, especially in the right diaphragm/lung area. This went away by day three.
I had zero appetite for a few days after surgery.
What I did not really anticipate was considerable fatigue. I went for a slow 20 min walk outside on the day after (against the blood clot risk) but then needed a 3 hr nap. I was sleepy throughout the day for the first few days after the surgery. By day 4 I felt around 75%.
The other thing that was surprising is my sense of smell became very sharp for about a week. A quick Google suggests this can temporarily happen, but was a bit strange!
I couldn’t comfortably wear anything that buttoned right at my bellybutton incision for about 3 weeks.
Post-op follow up: I got regular surgical stitches that were removed on day 16. The stitches itched from days 5–10. I used antibacterial soap on the incisions when showering, and dried the bellybutton afterward with a q tip. It was a lot more comfortable to have the stitches covered under clothing with extra bandages (so that they didn’t pull or catch on clothing), so I was glad I bought those. Some light bruising around each of the three stitches.
My first period after the bisalp was delayed by 10 days and not fun for a few hours on the first day - managed w 800mg ibuprofen and a hot water bottle. The incision areas also felt sore. But normalized to my usual 2-400mg by the second day.
Emotional feeling after: My bisalp felt like one of the best and most defining days of my life. I felt a sense of freedom and unburdening I have never before experienced. For the first time EVER I feel like I’m guaranteed to be able to live my life for myself on my own terms

Note: This has been written in light of my therapist diagnosing my mom with narcissism disorder, a lot of the post is context so please feel free to scroll to the end if it’s too much to read.
I 21F recently turned 21 and for a week my family (mom, dad, brother) came to visit me. While I normally see my family on small doses, especially my mother, we had recently made a lot of progress in opening communication and respecting boundaries. Needless to say, I was excited at the prospect of being able to bond with my family after years of cut off contact, arguments, and very traumatic events. I even booked a mother daughter spa day since my birthday is close to Mother’s Day.
Unfortunately, this did not happen. For the whole week my mother wanted to work on the patio in my backyard (I live in a townhouse) and had workers come in everyday, even on the morning of my birthday there were at least two separate renovation companies at my house. This infuriated me because I didn’t want a new patio and had told my mom multiple times that my bf (M21) and I were stressed out with the all the recent renovations and overseeing workers. Moreover, the week of my birthday was also the week of my final exams and they were all remote.
While having a new 10k dollar patio sounds nice, my mom isn’t really doing it for me- she’s doing it as a hobby because she likes home design. Every moment I spent with her was either taking her to stores like Home Depot or answering questions about what umbrella I would like outside. Everything was about the damn patio.
Aside from other things, I learned that the only reason they came for a whole week was because I was being inducted into a very prestigious honor society at my school (Phi Beta Kappa)later in the week; and had plans to leave earlier because my dad didn’t want to be “bored with nothing to do”. I was originally left to assume that them staying to long would be too expensive (for reference my mom makes over 500k a year).
The weekend ended with a huge fight that left me devastated and in tears.
A couple days after I left, my mom, in the middle of a dispute I was having with my school over a grading error; decided that it was the time to drop the fact that I was being disrespectful recently and that it needed to end.
So the fight over the phone ensues. I try to explain how she and my dad’s behavior really hurt me, especially the fight where my dad started yelling and slamming tables when I was simply asking him to look for something they might of misplaced. However,she insisted that SHE was the one being abused because I “gave her grief” for the patio and that I was unfairly holding the past over her despite her financially supporting me.
The final straw came when I said that there is a no screaming and/or slamming rule in the house and that they violated it- only for my mom to cut me off and say it was OUR house (as in me and my parents).
At this point I realized that my mom will never change. She’s been holding the fact that she financially supports me for as long as I can remember. I’m not allowed to criticize anything she does or says, even if it might be hurtful because I’m in some kind of debt with her. I never ask for things but she always offers to pay for my expenses and things in general because I’m a student and it’s her job to support me. For example she recently offered to pay for private Lsat tutoring because I’m preparing to apply to law school and my lsat scholarship (which I was rewarded by my school) doesn’t cover all of the prep I’ve been undertaking.
But again there’s a price, she’s been excessively pressuring me to apply for Harvard Law school because I have the grades (4.0 and top 5% of my class) and potential to get in.
My mom insisted on buying the townhouse because she though the renters were “entitled and disrespectful” for not immediately approving the lease. I made my mom promise back then that she would NEVER use the house against me and expressed my reservations. I feel trapped because I never wanted a townhouse, I simply wanted a small apartment that I could pay for so I wouldn’t be in debt to her.
I ended the conversation by telling her that the only reason I let her financially support me was because she changed, and said I was going no contact, and would be finding an apartment to move to.
She immediately begs that I reconsider because my little brother’s high school graduation was that weekend and that she would do anything for me to not cancel my flight because he would be “devastated”.
I tried to explain to her that after what she said I didn’t feel comfortable being around her but eventually conceded and said I Would come if she could agree to a few basic boundaries.
Since the graduation she’s been off on a luxury cruise with my family (which I skipped in order to do a government internship)and only recently returned. Despite forgiving her, putting on a smile and trying to be all happy at the graduation,while trying to forget everything that’s happened…
I haven’t heard a word from her since. I feel like everything is my fault and like the progress we’ve made was for nothing. Any support would be appreciated because right now I feel like I have no one to turn to and am completely alone.

I just moved to NYC from Munich, but am originally from Texas. I’m back in Texas visiting family before I get the keys to the new apartment and was just wondering if you fellow transplants have tips for what I should bring back (only because I happen to have an empty checked bag).
Having lived abroad for 4 years I became acutely aware of how bad you can miss things from home, especially groceries. I know it’s NYC and there is anything I could ever want, but maybe there are things that would be surprisingly hard to find? Or that are significantly cheaper that its worth bringing over? Or that would be convenient since I have the space?
So far I’ve thought about certain home-brand seasonings and maybe my favorite store brand snacks.

I (26M) was recently broken up with by my (24F) girlfriend of 6 years right after opening up to her about how I had been struggling a lot mentally recently. That's not necessarily the cause, but it happens to be a terrible coincidence. It sucks because it was incredibly difficult to open up about to begin with. I’ve always been Steady Eddy for her and my family, I was the athlete, reliable etc so it just added to the pressure to not talk about it.
Backstory to the unfortunate mental struggles:
About 10 weeks ago I had a very long night out and woke up extremely hungover. My brother met up with me that night in our parents car and ended up staying with us for a few drinks, so evidently he left the car.
Of course, I woke up and had a boatload of caffeine so I was already on edge a little bit. My brother was still asleep, so my mom asked me if I could quickly drive my dad to the car so he could take it home. No problem, I hopped in my car and drove there with my dad.
On the way home, completely unprovoked and no anxiety prior, I had an insane panic attack. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I think I’ve only had one panic attack in my life, and for some reason it left me with a very small amount of social anxiety but it slowly went away over the years. During this attack, my hands and feet were completely numb and sweating. At first, I had literally no idea what was going on - I thought it was a legitimate health issue. I ended up taking a bit to drive home, but I made it.
Unfortunately since then it left me with anxiety while driving. It really bothers me given that I am a car fanatic and always dreamed of owning something cool, Plus, the last thing I want is to fear a panic attack every time I get behind the wheel.
Since then, I've just had heightened anxiety in general. I've had one other panic attack in the past (about 5 years ago while we were early in to our relationship) and it left lingering anxiety, but I knew it wasn't permanent. I learned to manage it from the first panic attack, it just took some time. I'm hoping I can start a clean slate and forget the lingering affects of both that happened in the past.
Mental Health Backstory on her end:
To preface this, we both have anxiety/depression in our genetics unfortunately. In fact, her mom spent some time in the hospital when they were young because of how bad it got.
She also apparently had a ton of anxiety from work recently (she's a nurse, I'm in tech).
On my mothers side of the family, my mom, grandma and great grandma have struggled with anxiety their entire lives, some of them taking antidepressants.
Not fun genes for either of us to have, but we persevered!
Our Relationship:
This is what has been getting to me, our relationship was very healthy. We argued probably 2-3 times per year, we spent the majority of days together - as we lived only a 5 minute drive apart. We were both fully a part of each other's families. All of the normal relationship stuff, we were completely engulfed in it. We had also been looking at engagement rings for a bit and ALWAYS talked about our life together.
When I was about 19 before we were together, I used to drunkenly talk about her all of the time to my friends saying "if she ever gets out of the relationship with her boyfriend (at that time) she's the one I'm going for". When I was graduating high school, I went into her class on yearbook day, grabbed her yearbook and wrote my number in it. Long story short, she ended up single and within a month of that happening, we were together.
The "problems" we had over the years that were semi-recurring:
I didn't suggest enough of our plans. I explained to her a number of times that I'd happily go anywhere, I just don't tend to suggest ideas because sometimes she wanted to, other times she didn't. I've lived by the motto "happy wife, happy life" in that relationship, so I tended to go along with whatever she suggested.
We didn't take enough pictures together. I don't really like being in too many pictures and that bothered her.
We didn't travel together enough. This goes back to the anxiety, I hate flying and haven't done it in almost a decade. However, I have an appointment with my doctor in early July where I'm requesting some "emergencies only" anxiety medication to use for that exact scenario. Note - she went on a number of trips over the years with her closest friends. Furthermore, we had done weekend getaways via car together but those apparently don't count. To add, her friends are hopping on planes at least once per month to go somewhere, I think comparison became the thief of joy here.
I didn't tell her I loved her enough or hug her enough. This one is hard for me because I felt like I definitely told her I loved her a lot. She used to occasionally say "do you even love me", semi-joking but also serious, and I always told her of course I did and even though I may not say it a number of times a day, of course I do. I also did a TON of things for her to show how much I cared (ie. she very rarely had to make a lunch for work, I cooked for her almost every day and we don't even live together) The hugging thing is a bit different, as she's always been extremely affectionate and I never really have been. I truly think it comes down to how I was raised, affection just wasn't a huge part of my childhood. (note, that's not a problem for me or anything, I had incredible family/parents, it just wasn't as prominent as it was in her childhood)
I cared a lot about money and how we could set ourselves up to move out. She had taken 5 trips (two of them by train, three by plane) with her friends in the past year and after the 5th one I asked if she planned on slowing down so she could focus on tackling her student debt and so we could start saving to move out, have a wedding etc. Specifically, I wanted us to be in the position where we weren't renting a home, ESPECIALLY given how much money we were making combined. This part kind of confused me because she was the first one to suggest moving out, but when it came time to adjusting the lifestyle to prepare for it, she didn't like the idea. But, I did use it as a crutch for my anxiety to get out of things sometimes and I did open up to her about that. As an example though, I still went with her to the Gucci store and helped her pick out a very expensive purse to celebrate getting her first real nursing job after graduating. I don't feel that I cared about money (especially given the stage we were in in our lives) more than any of my buddies with girlfriends. I wanted us to be set up well for the coming stages of our lives; they were fast approaching. Furthermore, her friends are catching a plane every weekend and are living with their parents but pay cheque to pay cheque with no prospects of ever leaving unless it's renting
The Situation:
About 7-ish weeks ago, a few weeks after my panic attack, my girlfriend was very adamant that we needed to book a trip together. She said we hadn't been on a "real" trip during our relationship (by real, she means getting on a plane). We were sitting down in her bed on my laptop looking at destinations and flights, but I was incredibly anxious about the whole thing. As we were about to book, I broke down and was fully vulnerable to her for one of the first times in the 6 year relationship. I said that I just don't see myself getting onto a plane right now without some kind of medication to calm me down. On top of that, it would stress me out financially a bit, as I'm a full-time masters student and working full time. Plus, it was during my one-week semester break, so I honestly just wanted to relax.
From that day on, our relationship started going downhill. She said she felt extremely disappointed by the whole situation and she couldn't shake the feeling. We then started only hanging out maybe once per week and it was very bland when we did. A couple weeks after that incident, I slept over at her house and I could tell she was genuinely just not happy at that time.
Brief backstory - despite being 26, my mom still gives me a ton of flack if I sleep at her house. It was rare that I got away with it. But, I did it that night anyway because she always asked me to sleep over but I rarely wanted to have to deal with my mom. I thought it would help show her I'm really trying to get better. She also invited me over the following evening and I obviously went.
After that day, I don't think we saw each other for about 2 weeks. I texted her on a Friday evening and said I just don't feel like she wants to be with me anymore. She picked me up so we could talk, and explained that she felt very disappointed about how we were so close to booking the trip and ended up not doing it. She said she needed a break and I was fine with it, I understood where she was coming from.
During this time, I started seeing a therapist. I found one online who was one of the highest rated in my province and was also extremely experienced in marital/pre-marital counselling so I could tell her about the relationship issues I was having along with my anxiety.
Fast forward about 2 more weeks (last weekend) she texted me saying she was ready to talk and picked me up. She said it's probably best if we just end the relationship for the time being. She explained that she felt she had been disappointed a few times over the years and was bottling a lot of things up. She said she needed time to "find herself again" and didn't know if we would get back together at all in the future or not. Then, we sat there talking in her car for another 30 minutes like things were normal so it really threw me off.
I ended up texting her the next day and asked if I could pick her up because I was confused from the night prior since we talked so normally after the breakup conversation. We ended up talking again, sharing some tears and what not, but I kind of understood why she felt she needed to be alone for a bit, even though she didn't know if we would get back together or not. She said that people do this all of the time and sometimes they come back stronger, but if it was meant to be then we'll get back together. I also told her about how much help I'm getting and how I'm setting a goal to take a vacation when I finish my masters in November. She was noticeably happy and asked a lot about how I was talking to my therapist about improving as a person and a (what I thought was soon to be) fiancé. She asked for all of the details about what we talked about in regards to our relationship and was very happy that I was putting that much effort in.
A couple days ago is when she deleted are photos together, but it came right after she posted an Instagram story while out with a friend who has no stability whatsoever. This friend has been on and off with the same guy (who treats her terribly) for as long as we were together. Not to mention, she sleeps around a ton. I can't help but feel like some of this breakup is being influenced by her friends (specifically this one) wanting her to be single like they are out of jealousy or something. Or, they want her to be flying somewhere once a month with them with no plans for the future. My girlfriend has cried to me in the past because she had been brought to places she didn't want to be because her friend wanted to go for a guy. That friend has also been binge drinking several times weekly for years. The following night, her two friends posted a story of her incredibly drunk in the back of a car with her feet out of the window I'm sure in hopes that I would see it. We're grown ass adults, I can't help but feel like that's just not a cool thing to do to your friend in general? I don't care how drunk you are, in fact I expected her to have a night out with her friends and let loose but posting someone else like that is just insanely stupid to me! To put the icing on the cake, one of my long time buddies from high school decided to go for one of her friends and I gave him substantial warnings about her. Within a year, that relationship was completely over with and she was on to the next.
Neither of us were ever the type one to have one-night stands or get around, so I'm not concerned about anything like that during the breakup. If it happens it happens, but I won't be sleeping with anyone until I've put in all of my effort to saving everything we've built. She's only ever been with me and her ex, while I've had a handful more partners before her - but I've experienced enough in my 26 years to know that there was is only one woman for me.
After all of this, I still couldn't shake the feeling that I felt I was being abandoned during the one time in my entire life I've opened up to anyone and really wanted some support. I'm also just having a hard time processing why it happened and how I can salvage it.
I've texted her once per week since the breaks & breakup happened just telling her that I loved her and wished we were going to XYZ events coming up. I also always say in the message that "You don't have to respond or even read it, I just want you to know". I'm having a hard time deciding if I should continue giving her that weekly text or not, but I really do want her to know how much I care and thought we were a dream team.
I just can't help but feel like we had "problems" that were very fixable and were very minor compared to 99% of couples. Her two best friends have had 5+ boyfriends each in the time that we were together and countless one-night stands. Every time they would break up, I'd hear a story from my girlfriend about how terribly they were treated by these guys and we talked about how lucky we are to have each other. There was no forms of jealousy or self-consciousness between us either, neither of us were bothered when we went out alone with our respective friend groups. I also never for a second worried when she travelled with her friends that she'd cheat or something.
This wraps in with why I can't process the breakup. Aside from the few things we argued about here and there (few times a year) it was an incredibly healthy relationship. I had a great relationship with her friends (despite some of the things I've said about them above) and would often times opt to go out drinking with her group over my group of buddies. I acknowledged my shortcomings as a boyfriend (ie. the affection) with my therapist and she's giving me some help with it. Am I crazy for thinking 1. that I can fix what's happened and 2. Part of this breakup might just be her wanting to see how much I actually care?
Anyway, I might add to this if I remember more important points. I just needed to get some of this off my chest. If you've made it this far into my story, thanks for reading!

Life feels ruined. I used to have great Credit. Then Covid hit right when I got out of the military and had to live off credit cards. Couldnt pay my phone bill. Had to break a lease because the only job I was able to get after covid laid off everyone later because of it. My credit score is around 460. I owe about $60k. I've been denied every apartment I have applied before and I'm just wondering how can I get out of this hole ASAP. Whats the fastest REALISTIC way to get my credit score up to at least 620 again so I can rent a home without too many problems.

I live in an apartment next to the complex pool. Lately I have noticed a particular resident bringing their kids to the pool and they seem to scream as loudly as they can for the entire time they are there (playful screams, not crying, but still pretty disruptive when I am trying to work from home). I don't want to have to call in a noise complaint, so sometimes I wonder about just asking the parents if they could quiet the kids down a bit.
I would guess the kids range from 5-10 in age, so old enough to understand if their parents tell them not to scream?
The apartment community is mostly childfree young adults (like me), not sure if that matters.
Is there a polite way to address this or is the onus on me to buy earplugs?

Obligatory on mobile so probably shit formatting.
So there I was, right? Lying facedown on the couch, feeling bored and restless. So I’m like y’know what, it’s a nice day. Let’s go for a long walk. So we get in the car and I drive over to the local baseball field. We wander around for a while before moving on to the nearby bike path. It was really warm and sunny, but the pavement wasn’t too hot so we kept at it for a while.
Eventually we turn around and make our way back to the car. We drive home and I hop in the shower, pup sprawls out on the couch. After my shower, my mom calls so I pace around my apartment while talking to her. I glance at my couch and notice there’s a long string all over the middle seat’s headrest.
I thought what you’re probably thinking “naughty dog managed to sneak something home from the walk”. I go to pick it up and it’s… sticky? I’m momentarily confused before the smell hits me. It’s bubblegum. All over the headrest. GROSS. I go get my couch cleaning stuff and shampoo the hell out of the area.
I go wash my hands and make myself some dinner, thinking that’s the end of it. But no, there’s more. After dinner, I’m feeling sleepy so I lay down on the couch. All I could smell was bubblegum. My dog was asleep on the headrest above me, so I glanced at his paw dangling over the side and I realized his paw pads looked lumpy. I touched it. Sticky.
Mf tracked the gum in on one of his paws. It’s lodged in there good and he wouldn’t let me anywhere near with the scissors. So I start Googling. I found that apparently olive oil will break down the stickiness of gum pretty well. I’m like sweet, I have that!
So I pour some olive oil into a mug, fill another mug with water, and grab some paper towels. I get my dog into the kitchen and set down the mugs. He’s immediately interested in the oil but I take his paw and dunk it in. He hates it and tries to pull away while trying to push his nose down into the mug to lap at it. I moved his paw to the water mug and he took the opportunity to start gulping down oil.
Immediately he starts hacking up a lung. I start panicking. I don’t know what olive oil can do to a dog. I patted his back until he stopped coughing. Then I spot a tick crawling on his back.
I used the oily paper towel still in my hand to grab it and I Zoidberg’d down the hall to the toilet. I tried shaking it into the bowl, but it was stuck to the paper towel. I’m getting more stressed. I shook it super hard and the tick goes flying into the bowl and starts climbing up the side. I flushed the toilet but the little shit wouldn’t go down. I’m screeching, my dog is barking, my neighbors are probably plotting my murder. I flushed again and I thought it went down so I rush back to my dog.
I found he had moved to the living room and was alternating between licking his paw, and licking the carpet. I grab his dumb idiot ass and haul him into the bathroom and start the tub.
WHY didn’t I do this in the tub to begin with? Who knows. I’m not good under pressure. I don’t know who thought I could manage being an unsupervised adult and let me live alone.
I got my pup into the bath and he managed to escape twice before I could lather up his paw. We were both pretty miserable. I managed to get some of the gum off while fighting the urge to throw up. The smell of bubble gum… Eugh. Always hated it.
I let him out and he ran straight for a pillow I’d set down on my pc chair before all this. He tries to grab it to start humping (he likes cloth items A LOT). I pull him away and start drying his paws but it wasn’t doing much. So I gave up and sat down on the couch in defeat.
Now I have to pee and I’m too afraid the tick is lurking in the bowl, biding it’s time until it can bite my cooch. I can still smell gum.
TLDR: took dog for a long walk, came back with gum on his paw. Tried to get it off but I’m a dumbass and caused absolute mayhem instead. Also there’s probably a vengeful tick in my toilet. Probably gonna wake up to a shit slip n slide curtesy of my doggo.
ETA: Dog tax

Hey there. I'm still really, incredibly hurt right now because of a breakup that I recently went through with a partner with BPD. I am trying my best to not be hurtful, as I understand how difficult it is to have BPD, but I need support and to be reassured that it was their mental illness and not me.
I'll just try to make a long story short. My partner is ftm trans / nonbinary. They've been through a lot of trauma, and are currently a therapist for LGBT youth. I am a CIS male. They had an abusive ex husband for 10 years, and towards the end of the marriage he was r*ping them.
They divorced 2 years ago and I've been dating them (through their own initiative) since September of last year. They wanted freedom, so we dated as poly. I respected every one of their boundaries, from sexual repulsion, helping them during panic attacks during sex, etc. I wasn't perfect, but I certainly was not abusive.
A few weeks ago they started texting me about how they were not present for our relationship. I had just lost my grandmother, my job, and a good friend. I was isolated in this place I currently am, and my partner was the only tether here at the moment. I think they started withdrawing because of...honestly, I'm not sure. They just said that they had great love and care for me, canceled a camping trip we were supposed to do together, and supposedly went on it by themselves with their dog.
They also included the fact that they were now "feeling suicidal" and "still in love with their ex husband".
This was in the span of a day, where they had started it with "I love you". All the rest came 12 hours later when I asked if we were okay in our relationship, because I could feel them slipping.
So I gave them space. I was hurt, but I did not lash out. I offered unconditional love, and told them I would be here when they were ready.
5 days pass. Radio silence. I text them asking if they're okay, and I get ghosted for another day until I receive a very clinical sounding text using my government first name (which they had NEVER called me previously). Not a dead name, just something I prefer people don't use. So I'm not saying they were being abusive by deadnaming me.
I ask them to speak to me in person because I am worried, and frankly, to please return my spare apartment key. I see now in hindsight that asking for the key so soon without actual confirmation of a breakup probably triggered their abandonment issues, and I regret that. It was really something I didn't mean. They ghosted me for 3 days after that.
So I text again and ask them to please stop ignoring me. My feelings are crushed and I am genuinely worried. They apologize and claim they can drop the key off that day, and I say I would like to talk with them when they do. They respond saying they'd prefer a call or to text.
Okay. That hurts, we've been dating for over half a year and a phone call break up seems really impersonal, but alright. I work with them and say that I don't really want that, but I respect their boundaries and would like to call asap. They respond saying they're busy, and can't at that moment. So I ask for a specific time.
They ghost me again. And they never update me or drop the key off.
This time, I ask them what is going on. They didn't update me about the key, they didn't bring it, and now I'm actually becoming frightened for my OWN safety because they've already stated they're unstable at the moment and aren't giving me my apartment key back.
Their responses become colder. Talking about how it isn't an emergency, they didn't have the time, I'll get the key back when THEY are able to, etc. But the catch is that they live a 5 min drive from me. It's not like they couldn't have taken the time to do so!
So I call it out. I say that it isn't an emergency to THEM, but to me, I've been worried sick and ghosted constantly. I ask what I did wrong, to be met with this, verbatim:
"It's not my job to coach you through our breakup. And it's not something I want to do for free."
At this point, I became emotional. I did not berate them or belittle them, simply said that the way they're treating me is REALLY fucking unfair. Stonewalling me is not acceptable. Me asking for clarity and communication is NOT coaching me through our breakup.
At this point, I say to please just leave the key on their stoop because I can't trust them to bring it to me right now. I'll pick it up and leave. (Also a mistake on my end I'm sure, but in that moment I really COULDN'T trust them to keep their word.)
They simply said "fine" with a shrug emoji. And that was that. I picked up my key and other stuff they left me on the stoop, and I went. I wanted so badly to knock on their door but...I didn't. I respected their terms and space, no matter how much it hurt.
This is probably more just venting than anything, but I hope I can receive some clarity from this group, or some support. I'm worried sick about them, but I can't take the heartbreak at the moment. I'm isolated in a place thousands of miles away from my hometown, family, and friends...and I just want to go back home now that the last thing keeping me where I am now has decided to leave.
I only wish for them to be okay. And more specifically, not to go back to their abusive ex husband.

I am a FTM to a 4 month old baby. We live on a second floor apartment in a gated compound. It’s very safe and I know all my neighbors. Lots of children, but they live on the ground floor, so this situation has never happened to them.
Usually my husband gets groceries or I get them delivered while he’s home so one of us can run and get them and the other can stay with the baby. However, there have been a few occasions where I’m home alone and I really need to get a few things.
What is the safest way to get my baby and my groceries to the second floor?
My current game plan would be to load up the baby by putting the car seat on the stroller with the adaptor, stroll the baby to the base of the stairs, lock the stroller in full view of my front door, run the groceries up to my stoop, stroll the baby back to the car and put the stroller base away, then carry the baby in the carrier up to the apartment, put baby in the living room bassinet, and then put the groceries away. We have an open floor plan, so the bassinet straddles the kitchen and the living room.
What should I do? I would feel just awful if I did anything unsafe. I pitched that to my mom and she said that sounded okay. I never would let the baby out of my sight or in an unsafe surface (on the bed or couch). But I may have to face this situation and I don’t know what to do.
Thanks!

I applied to an apartment with my gf and got rejected because I got arrested with fake ID's, weed, and LSD(felony drug) 6 years ago but the adjudication was withheld and the record was sealed. I sent that court order that states my record was sealed to the apartment complex just to see what happens. But my real question is, can I not live in an apartment complex now? Like I have to be homeless unless I buy a home with cash (bc a bank certainly will reject me if apartments are)? Can you guys help me? This is so urgent its not funny

My puppy was doing really well in the crate and I sorta ruined it. I’m having a really time coming to the realization of my mistake.
Basically when my puppy woke up at 6 am I would get up with him, and then I would end up falling asleep on the couch and we wouldn’t start our day.
Now my puppy wakes up at 4 am and is expecting to fall asleep on the couch with me. Its the sweetest thing ever but last night I decided 4 am was too early and I put him back in the crate (after potty) and was met with INSANE PROTEST he doesn’t even really bark in his crate that much anymore butasf night he did for about an hour straight.
When I first brought him home I slept in front of the crate with him and he was soothed by knowing I was there and if he cried I would put my hand next to the crate and he would be okay.
Well last night I tried that and nothing worked he just kept barking and barking. For about an hour. I live in an apartment I need any suggestions.
He does fine in his crate when I put him in another room during the day for a nap. Should I just not even be in the room anymore? I’m in a two bedroom apartment and he has been sleeping crated at the foot of our bed.