Dear everyone, I'm an experienced sewist and I'm thinking about making myself a nice latex dress for dance performance and other adventures. I have never used a latex before but after seeing lots of tutorials and using my experience from other crafts (leather, wood, clay, painting, design, sewing etc) I'm pretty confident I could pull it off. It would be my first latex project, but again, it's not the first time I pull off a super ambitious random project on the first try (ADHD helps). My question is about the designs, as I'm not super familiar with the material (I only use sheets for insulation in my art restoration job). Since I requiere mobility on my legs to dance, I have two options: making variations of a circle or half circle skirt, or going into the pencil skirt direction but adding a slit. I prefer the body hugging figure as it makes me feel more confident about myself, specially with heels. Now the question comes into the construction. Does anyone have experience adding high slits to latex skirts? I'm talking groin height, either right over my thigh in the front, or back up to the butt. Now, if I was to make this on fabric, I would make different panels and use the seam for the slit. Do I need to do the same on latex or can I just cut up to wherever I want the slit to go and add a reinforcement so it doesn't rip? Another option to have mobility but still have my butt tight and looking amazing would be to make a pencil skirt and add a fishtail (either as an insert in the back slit, or I could make a mermaid cut with different panels) When I do this designs in fabric I like to use lycra, stretch Velvet or other stretchy fabrics I find (almost Always theta are a 4 way Stretch). With this fabrics I've done all kinds of designs, including ruching (all variations, one side, two sides, butt, shoulder etc etc) so im curious about what the design possibilities are. The thinner the material, the stretchier but I wonder if it will have enough weight. Has anyone here done something like this before? I did have a look at some shops with already made clothes but I didn't find anything I liked.
Looking forward for any information/pictures/ideas/tips!!

Sorry I haven't updated for a while, things got hectic and a bit chaotic honestly. Firstly, I'm working on getting an apartment still and have applications in at three different places and will hopefully hear back from them soon. I'm still going into work here at the new location, so I don't have to worry about burning through my emergency savings completely. I've gotten a lot of emails from Alex, his family and our old friend group asking question after question. I have only sent one return email to Alex, explaining that I don't believe we are truly compatible, and it is best we separate now. That his treatment of me when I'd done nothing to deserve as such was just as much of a deal breaker as cheating was for him.
I ended the email with the statement that I would not be contacting him further and anything else he needed to pass on to me or vice versa would be done through my lawyer. For his family and friends, I just typed up one email outlining everything that had happened and why I left. I told them I wished them no ill will, but that such treatment of his wife and partner was not acceptable. That should Alex get remarried in the future, I wished they would help support both partners and not just Alex.
Alex, from what my lawyer told me, was livid when he was served. The sheriff actually ended up booking him for assault on an officer and menacing due to the threats he was shouting. His father bailed him out in a few hours, but with the testimony of the sheriff, my lawyer believes I have a very good chance at getting a restraining order. Alex, upon returning to the house, apparently lost his temper again, breaking the dining table into pieces as well as the tv, and putting several holes in the walls. At least that's what one of the emails from one of our friends reported as Alex called him to help him clean up the mess.
My lawyer already has pictures of the house I took, with timestamps as evidence nothing had been damaged by me. My friend reported that Alex tried to claim I'd been the one to trash the house but the holes in the wall were at head height - Alex is 6'3", and I'm 5'4" so he knew that was false. Either way, taking the pictures definitely will help me so again thank you everyone here for the advice because I never would have thought of that on my own. My work won't share details of where I am, as I do work with some higher end clientele who value security and that information won't be gossiped about and no, I'm not some stripper or escort. I deal with contracts, notary and business management. As such, even if Alex tried to use my work to find me, he wouldn't succeed.

In Witch, a charming devil arrives in the quiet village of Edmonton to bargain for the souls of its residents in exchange for their darkest wishes.
Method Machine Lab’s Witch by Jen Silverman May 17- May 26
Friday-Sunday at 7:00P $10, $15 & $20
Method Machine Lab @Kim Maxwell Studio 226 W Ojai Ave Suite 201 Ojai, CA 93023
www.methodmachinelab.org for more information and tickets.

Hey I'm just getting into mountain biking and a purchased a used bike a few weeks ago. I've had no issue with it so far but I'm just wanting to learn more about my bike specifically. It's a tomac snyper 140 frame. When I look it up all I can find are pictures of what I think are a newer version of this model as there are some differences in the frame. I'm wondering If there's a way I can search the serial number on the bike to get more information like you can with a cars vin. TIA

I met my friend a couple of years ago. My first impression about him was that- he was a funny, insanely smart, amazing at holding conversation, genuine, kind and basically a all- rounder. I was mesmerized and I kept on wondering why I am not like him for a long time.
However, as time progressed, I learned that he is also one of the most insecure persons ever who feeds on going behind other people's back, consuming information about others just so that he can use them later as a weapon, has got terrible taste in women, always judgemental and critical of others, extremely insecure of a human being (hates his body), always looks for a loophole to fight with others, uses people for his benefits, manipulative, disrespectful as a roommate (does not do shit in the house if not asked multiple times). I learned that slowly and gradually after noting down multiple patterns of the same behaviour. He is the kind of friend who would be always down to going on a party with you but if you ask him to be there for you during your rainy days, he will be vanished in the thin air as if he never existed in the first place.
We are talking about a guy who was a valedictorian in his college and has a degree in computer science from one of the best schools in the world. He is charming yes but would I want to continue being his friends? Nah. We are going our separate ways this year and once we do, I will cease all the contact with him. Better to have friends who brings out the best of you than to have friends who suck all the energy out of your soul.

Spoilers for Fallout TV Show.
This is what I think happened based off of the TV Show and what I think most people chose for the ending. Aswell as what I chose for one of my endings. Please don't attack me, this is my opinion. Also I do like the theory that the Legion assimilated into the Brotherhood.
Other: President Kimball is Alive General Oliver is Alive Legate Lanius is Alive Mr House is disconnected but Alive
Intro And so the Courier, who had cheated death in the cemetery outside Goodsprings, cheated death once again, and the Mojave Wasteland was forever changed.
Hoover Dam Victory The Courier, with the aid of Yes Man, drove both the Legion and the NCR from Hoover Dam, securing New Vegas' independence from both factions. With Mr. House out of the picture, the remaining Securitrons on The Strip were hard-pressed to keep order. Anarchy ruled the streets. When the fires died, New Vegas remained, assuming its position as an independent power in the Mojave.
The Courier Preferring neither the best of the NCR nor the worst of the Legion, the Courier was the man responsible for a truly independent New Vegas. He had removed Mr. House from power over the Strip and broken the influence of the NCR and Caesar's Legion in the Mojave Wasteland.
Black Mountain Tabitha and Rhonda went east, through Caesar's land. Occasionally tales of their exploits found their way back west, though few believed them. Eventually the stories concerning the duo were collected and published, and proved to be quite popular with children.
Raul Alfonso Tejada Invigorated by his travels with the Courier, Raul once more took up his guns in memory of his lost Rafaela. Soon after, the Mojave was filled with tales of the ghost-vaquero who hunts down those who prey on the weak.
Boomers Though the Wasteland became anarchic after Hoover Dam, the Boomers' display of power dissuaded fortune seekers from attempting to penetrate Nellis.
The Brotherhood The Brotherhood used the battle of Hoover Dam as an opportunity to retake HELIOS One, and came to control the area between it and Hidden Valley. With no organized opposition, their patrols began monitoring trade along Interstate 15 and 95, seizing any items of technology they deemed inappropriate.
Veronica Santangelo Veronica put her moral sensibilities aside and supported the Brotherhood's new campaign of aggression as best she could. Yet deep down, she understood that it meant their end would surely be soon to follow
The Fiends Their leaders destroyed by the Courier, the Fiends scattered throughout the wasteland. Without the organization of Motor-Runner, Cook-Cook, Violet, and Driver Nephi, they were easy prey.
Followers of the Apocalypse After the Courier ensured New Vegas remain free, the Followers found that Independent New Vegas was even more unstable and violent than before. Old Mormon Fort became excessively burdened by the influx of patients, struggling to provide even the most basic of services
Arcade Gannon Arcade was tending to the locals of Freeside when he learned that Caesar's Legion had been defeated and NCR was being pushed out of New Vegas. Though he found that independence for New Vegas was not all he hoped it would be, Arcade did his best to help the locals govern themselves
Goodsprings With New Vegas' independence formally declared, Goodsprings thrived. More travelers stopped by Goodsprings on their way to and from the Strip, and the locals grew prosperous from the traffic.
Rose of Sharon Cassidy I The slaughter of the Van Graffs and the Crimson Caravan caused no end of trouble for NCR back West. Already struggling, NCR's supply lines suffered further as the two caravans withdrew support until the "massacre in the East" was resolved
Rose of Sharon Cassidy II Cass lived to see the Courier bring down three armies and by her count, that was three more than she'd expected. She'd kept quiet about that, though.
The Great Khans During the Battle of Hoover Dam, the Great Khans quickly evacuated Red Rock Canyon and headed north and east into the plains of Wyoming. There, they reconnected with the Followers of the Apocalypse and rebuilt their strength. Bolstered by ancient knowledge of governance, economics, and transportation, they carved a mighty empire out of the ruins of the Northwest
Jacobstown Thanks to the Courier and Lily, a cure for the nightkin's schizophrenia was found shortly after Doctor Henry's experiment concluded. Nightkin and other super mutants in the wasteland flocked to Jacobstown, and the town became known as a haven where a mutant could find peace
Lily Marie Bowen Encouraged by the Courier to take her medication regularly, Lily's mind eventually attained a semblance of clarity. Her memories dulled by the pills, she cast aside the recording of her grandchildren, no longer remembering its significance.
The Kings Following the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, Freeside came to be known as one of the more stable areas in the region. Ironically, NCR refugees found Freeside safer than most of the rest of New Vegas, where resentment still lingers.
Rex With the transplant of Lupa's brain, Rex gained all of the donor's experiences traveling with the Legion. These melded well with his own memories of the Legion, and his new mind quickly adjusted to the myriad memories
NCR - The Misfits Shaped up by the Courier's advice, The Misfits distinguished themselves during the Legion's attack on Camp Golf. Mags was finally promoted to Sergeant, and the rest of The Misfits received an official commendation. They continued to serve with distinction for many years.
Novac Though Novac was a low-priority target for the Legion, many of Novac's citizens died in its defense. In the weeks that followed, several Bright Followers returned to Novac to help restore its defenses, allowing it to remain independent of the NCR.
Craig Boone Though NCR was withdrawing from the region, Boone remained in New Vegas, finding work as a security guard and caravan scout along the highways. While he might've preferred rejoining his old unit, Boone couldn't bring himself to abandon the city where he'd met his wife.
Powder Gangers - NCRCF After Hoover Dam, the leaderless Powder Gangers at the Correctional Facility vanished into the wastes, leaving the prison empty. The Correctional Facility became another abandoned ruin in the wasteland, its carcass occasionally picked over by enterprising prospectors.
Powder Gangers - Vault 19 After the majority of the Vault 19 Powder Gangers joined the Great Khans, the weaker members scattered throughout the Mojave Wasteland. Though a few managed to erase their pasts, most never survived the journey.
Primm After Hoover Dam, Sheriff Meyers runs Primm with his own style of frontier justice. He deals with most folks fairly, but now and then someone winds up dead with little to no evidence against them
ED-E With its logs cleared and its systems upgraded ED-E remained a vigilant and constant companion to the Courier. The Brotherhood used the information recovered from ED-E to create a small army of Duraframe eyebots.
NCR Rangers Due to the Courier's intervention, Chief Hanlon abandoned his plan to sabotage the defense of Hoover Dam. The rangers assisted the troopers admirably during the Legion's ill-fated attack. Though the Courier snatched victory from NCR, only General Oliver was blamed for the loss of Hoover Dam. Hanlon, exhausted after a lifetime of service to the NCR, stepped down from his position in the rangers and retired to his ranch in Redding.
The Remenats After their bold arrival at Hoover Dam, the Remnants disappeared as quickly as they came. Legends of their power spread throughout the southwest, a reminder of why people once feared the sight of vertibirds in the sky
Conclusion And so the Courier's road came to an end... for now. In the new world of the Mojave Wasteland, fighting continued, blood was spilled, and many lived and died - just as they had in the Old World. Because war... war never changes.
As for what happened after, The Courier tried to help Vegas as much as he could, but with no Army Vegas was anarchy. Then the tunnelers arrived. Courier Six asked for NCR help but they failed. The Courier ashamed with themself left Vegas, never to return.

"Summers at the Saint" by Mary Kay Andrews is a novel set in the charming coastal town of Belle Isle, North Carolina. The story revolves around Annajane Hudgens, who works for the local resort, the Belle Isle Yacht Club. Annajane's life becomes complicated when her ex-husband, Mason Bayless, reenters the picture, stirring up old feelings and sparking new conflicts.
As the summer unfolds, Annajane finds herself navigating the complexities of her relationships with Mason, her current boyfriend, and her stepdaughter. Secrets and scandals emerge, testing Annajane's loyalty and challenging her to confront her past.
Andrews crafts a delightful tale filled with romance, humor, and Southern charm. The coastal setting provides a picturesque backdrop for the characters' adventures and struggles. The author's descriptive prose brings Belle Isle to life, making it feel like a character in its own right.
One of the novel's strengths lies in its well-developed characters. Annajane is a relatable protagonist with depth and vulnerability, and her interactions with the supporting cast are authentic and engaging. Mason is portrayed as a flawed yet charismatic figure, adding complexity to the story's dynamics.
While "Summers at the Saint" offers an enjoyable escape into the world of small-town drama, some readers may find the plot predictable or the pacing slow at times. However, fans of Mary Kay Andrews' signature blend of romance and Southern storytelling are likely to appreciate this charming novel.
Overall, "Summers at the Saint" is a delightful summer read that transports readers to a sun-soaked coastal town filled with love, laughter, and unexpected twists. Andrews' skillful storytelling and vivid imagery make it a worthy addition to her body of work.

Over a century ago, a British archeologist named Howard Carter began excavations in the unforgiving Egyptian Desert with the hopes of discovering something; something that remained a mystery for many centuries: the 3400-year-old tomb of an ancient king, Tutankhamun.
The site Carter chose for this excavation project was the Valley of the Kings, which was a burial place of ancient kings for many centuries. Before Carter, several archeologists carried out excavations in the Valley. And in the process, discovered several tombs and artifacts.
But archeologists weren't the only ones the Valley attracted. For generations, the Valley was raided by thieves, who exploited it in every way possible. So much so that when Carter arrived at the site with his men in 1917, they found themselves standing atop 30-foot piles of debris stones.
And it's for the same reason why many archeologists questioned Carter's sanity when news of his excavation reached them. Without exception, all of them labelled the Valley a heavily exhausted Site.
But Carter would listen to no one.
He gathered all the resources, and manpower, and for the next five years, went all in into the excavations with the support of his rich patron George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon.
Those five years were a rough period for the passionate archeologist because up until the end of it, he wouldn't discover anything worthwhile to justify the enormous money being spent.
At one point Carnarvon lost all his hope and called Carter to inform him about the partnership break. But Carter was somehow able to talk Carnarvon out of his decision. He pointed out how some artifacts discovered by another archeologist nearby had Tutankhamun's name inscribed on them. And that Tut must be lying somewhere underneath that place waiting to be found.
Finally, the day arrived in November 1922.
After back-breaking labor, nasty heartbreaks, and burning ₹210+ crores, it happened. A boy carrying water slipped and fell over what at first seemed like a stone. It was, of course, a stone, except it was the first stone step of the flight of stairs to the tomb.
In the weeks that followed, the stairs kept spiraling downwards reaching a distance of 26 ft. At the end of the final step, one of the workers' picks clanked against a limestone wall. Unsure of what was inside, Carter made a tiny crack in the wall and reached a candle inside—to check if the air inside was harmless to breathe. After reassuring, he widened the crevice to look inside the chamber…
When his eyes recalibrated to the low light of the chamber, after a brief blurriness at the candlelight, he witnessed the softly illuminated objects gradually coming to life—objects that last saw light over 3400 years ago. Carnarvon asked from behind, "Can you see anything?" Almost breathless, Carter answered, "Yes… wonderful things!"
At last, the team discovered the Tomb of the 19-year-old Boy King Tutankhamun. To date, it's the most intact tomb of a pharaoh to be ever discovered.
In the years leading up to the opening of Tut's Coffin in 1925, over 5398 objects were found in the chambers of the tomb, including furniture, golden jewels, figurines, musical instruments, board games, war weapons, clothes, vessels, carts, and a number of other things that Tut would need in the afterlife. Almost every object inside the tomb was either made of Gold or covered with it.
Tut's mummy lay inside three layers of coffins, with the innermost one made entirely of solid Gold and the rest wooden. Altogether, the total value of the entire collection in the tomb is estimated to be around $27 million in today's money.
Now, it's been a century since Carter opened that Tomb, but still, there's been no discovery in archeology that has matched its magnitude. Nothing ever has remotely come close to that.
Doesn't this story sound ridiculous to you in a way? How delusional someone should be to continue digging for five straight years despite seeing no evidence of progress?
On top of it all, Carter or nobody knew whether the Valley of Kings was exactly where Tut's tomb was located. They just went with their hunch. Five whole years and hundreds of crores would have been for nothing if the hunch turned out to be wrong. Carter knew this. But still, he took that leap of faith and persevered.
If Carter's mental strength and confidence are one thing, the faith Carnarvon had in Carter is everything. I couldn't understand the logic behind Carnovan's decision. Why would someone in their right mind bet a ridiculous amount of money on something that was just a theory with little to no evidence? What if Tut was never buried in the valley? Is it because Carter was a better salesman or was it Carnorvan's conviction that had him pouring money regardless? We know not.
But it's their combined belief, intuition, and effort that made this ultimate discovery possible.
It's easy to get discouraged when you don't see the results early on. But despite that, if you trust your guts, believe in your skills, and keep putting in the work.. one day you will find your own version of Tut's treasures.
So keep digging. For if you never dig, you will never know.

My ex has a boyfriend whom had an incident in 2021 of slapping, bruising and shouting at his step child. This isn't connected to my child but from his previous relationship, it went through CPS. He had to take a class on what is acceptable and not acceptable with regards to his children and wasn't allowed to see them for a period of time.
He also had a sexual assault allegations made against him which was then dropped by the participant but an internal investigation was taken out by his company and they concluded it did occur and subsequently fired him.
Current situation is that his children no longer wish to see or be around him however he is going to court over this to get access back.
That paints a very short picture of this man, I don't want this person around my son but he has been living with my ex for about 5 months. I haven't been comfortable about the situation and had recently found out that my ex's parents are really concerned as well.
Had they told me nice things about him and there opinion of him been good, I'd have been more at peace about the situation as beforehand I was taking her word for it which is obviously positive but the fact her parents are also concerned really has worried me.
Do I have a leg to stand on here? She's a good mum but I fear this man will have a negative impact on my child and at worse will do something physical. She's already lied to protect me/him from finding these things out but I'd carried out a Claire's law and Sarah's law where this information was disclosed to me.
Ideally I just want to be primary carer for my child and be the person who has control over his welfare and protection. It would make me feel 1000% better about the situation but I don't know if I have a case as it's not her I'm worried about, it's him!

Nearly two months ago I met a guy at a friend's house party. Everyone was drunk and both of us hardly talked. I vaguely remember what we talked about but mostly we were just bantering with each other. The next day I sent him a request on Instagram and he followed me back. A few days later I realised that I might have a crush on this guy but I hardly know anything about him. I have always found the concept of having a crush stupid and lame. What is crush if not lack of information. To me he's a blank canvas and in my mind I could give him all the characteristics that I might like in him hoping that he turns out the same way I picture him in my mind.
It's been almost two months and I am finding it extremely difficult to get him off my mind. I am feeling so anxious and uneasy. The most common advice would be to ask him out but I am not sure about that because he is 5 years older than me and during the party he made a joke about me being 22 because most of the people at that party were older. I don't even know if he's single and the few mutual friends we have are not close enough to me so that I could discuss my curiosity with them or confide in them about my interest in him. I am very lost and I am kinda embarrassed to share this with my friends because they would be very judgemental if they find out that I am so so obsessed with this guy I absolutely know nothing about. Thinking about him and us has taken up so much of my time and mental energy.
Like a creep I have stalked him everywhere and this behaviour is very much not like me. I need help with making a decision and end this misery for once and all! I am desperate for some advice.

I (41M) matched with her (28F) a couple of weeks ago and hit it off, she was the first to offer her phone number so we could chat outside the app. We chatted constantly with great banter and vested interest. Set up a date for last weekend (Sunday). She lives 2 hrs away but I was overdue for a road trip and was glad to find an excuse to get out of town. I suggested we go somewhere pretty and have a picnic (we're in the PNW so there's plenty of that) and settled on a beautiful park. I offered to pick her up but after a conversation she said she felt better if we just arrived in separate cars because she wanted the option of an "exit strategy" in case the "vibe wasn't there". I respected her boundaries and complied, it was our first meeting and I am completely flexible and respectful. I was raised a gentleman (Hispanic background) and I think chivalry is not dead. Not trying to virtue signal, just think being a decent person should be the norm and traditional values are not seen much these days. The day before, I went all over town getting goodies (charc, cheese, wine, fruit, wine, et al) to cover everything she'd told me she liked so we could have lots of options. I got to the park and we instantly hit it off, found a nice bench and had a lot of fun getting to know each other with good conversation, food, wine, laughter and eventually making out, which was wonderful. I told her I really liked our day and was willing to set time for her to keep hanging out, and that if she was down I would be back next weekend and get an Airbnb. I didn't just want to assume I could invite myself over to her house without her specifically being open to it and asking me so she wouldn't feel pressured. She was completely on board and I drove back home feeling really happy and excited. She wrote me back saying "so next week, we have some things to discuss. Really just one thing, but if we are going to continue spending time together it's important information. You should know that I have HSV. And I know that would give me pause, so I understand if that's a dealbreaker for you." I told her that it's not, and that I trusted she had a handle on it, and thanked her for being transparent . To which she said she definitely did have a handle on it. She sends me a picture of her and her mom when she was a baby so I could see how much she looks like her, it was her mom breastfeeding her "which is probably an overshare" to which I said not to worry and thank you for sharing that with me. I shared a picture of my mom so she could see the resemblance as well in return. Monday rolls around and she sends me a little video of her at work looking cute, had a little bit of texting back and forth and the rest of the day no further contact. She usually would text me after work when she'd free up and we talked till we called it a day, which was happening for at least a week before we even met in person. I sent her a trailer for a series we talked about, telling her to watch season 1 and I'd save season 2 to watch it together. No reply. This morning still no communication. I figured she was busy so I went ahead and booked the Airbnb for this weekend. Not 10 minutes go by after that that she texts me saying "I'm not sure we should hang out this week" I replied with "Really? ooof just booked the Airbnb, What's up? Sorry, I should've asked you" To which she replied "I'm just feeling sick, and frankly, I'm not sure if the attraction's mutual" To which I said "Oh wow. Didn't seem that way on Sunday. What changed? Just trying to understand." She wrote me back saying "Just a little reflection. I like your attention but the it would be disingenuous." Those words. Confusing. I answered "The it?" And she says "Sorry, brain fog. I am quite sick." I told her "Hmm ok. Hope you feel better. I'd be grateful if you could clear it up when you're up for it." I want to give her the benefit of the doubt because I really did feel good chemistry when we spent the day together, but part of me is saying that I'm simping and to let it go. I'm losing my trust in women and I feel very sad about it. I'd already erased the dating apps as soon as I got home that day because I thought I found someone worth investing my time with. We really did hit it off when we met, talked about making plans together and I really felt this was heading somewhere positive.
Dating sucks and as much as I really am making an effort nothing seems to stick. A similar situation happened about a month ago with another lady who at first seemed very invested and then just lost interest. By no means trying to put myself as a victim here and if anything writing it down helped me process so if you read so far thank you and if it relates to anything you've been through just want to say you're not alone.
TL;DR thought I really hit it off with a lady that gave me all the signs it was mutual down to making plans together and she pulled a 180º.

For context, I’m a 25yo female, that comes from a mixed background (my mother 56F is a white woman from Italy, my father is from the Balkans and migrated to my country when he was younger). This is relevant and you will understand later.
I moved away from home as soon as I could when I was 18 after a not so good childhood, and currently live in another European country. My parents are divorced, my father is not really in the picture, I keep in touch with my mother on a daily basis and come visit her and the rest of the family once or twice a year. We never had the best relationship but since I moved out it improved a lot. I’d say we get along better when I’m far away from home.
Anyway, back to the reason of this post. I’ve been seeing this guy for more than a year, he’s great, we’re slowly getting to know each other and see where this is going. We are not in a rush but of course this is a relationship and I felt it was time to tell something more to my mother. I’ve always been quite open about my relationships and people I was dating, however since getting older I started being more private as I don’t think it would be good to mention every failed date to my mother (lol). We come from a typical small town where people are bigots and close-minded. The news on the tv are constantly complaining about “immigrants coming to our country” and jadajadajada. The government is right wing. So yeah, being racist is almost the norm, unfortunately.
I didn’t really mentioned much about this guy, first of all cause I’m trying to keep it private but also because I could imagine her reaction, since she’s the standard average middle age woman that you find on Facebook without much culture. She is ignorant not as an insult but in the real sense of the word: she ignores, she doesn’t inform herself and just believes whatever the media tells her.
The day after I arrived we were casually talking before bed and she just kept asking “C’mon, don’t you have a pic of this guy? Show me! C’mon c’mon! I’m your mother!” so, one side of me didn’t wanna show her, the other one was excited cause at the end of the day I’m proud of my relationship and I was happy to tell her more (maybe naively hoping for a good outcome…). So without thinking much I showed her one of the best pictures of him. Literally in the millisecond while I was showing her the picture she said something like: “hope it’s not a n****” (WHATTT???).
At that point the phone was already on her face. It was done. She said it, and at the same time she saw the picture. She was speechless and I was too. I was ashamed of her. And sad.
She didn’t say anything more for the following 10 minutes, she went to her room and I went to mine. Afterwards she just asked “does he even work?!” And I told her “don’t worry about it, he’s better off than the both of us” just to make her shut up about that question that I found so disrespectful. This made me just so sad, and disappointed.
But the worst had yet to come. We didn’t speak much about it at all until today.
We were having a casual conversation during the afternoon when the relationship topic came out. In particular, we were talking about how your partner should improve your life and not making it worse, meaning he should make you happy, he should bring good positive vibes, get along etc. that’s what I was thinking and referring to. But she started being very materialistic, she asked me “so, in which way is he improving your life?!” in a very aggressive sassy tone “I don’t see anything changing“ she said. I was mentioning that he makes me happy when the conversation degenerated. All sort of things came out of it.
She started by saying:
“well, I truly hopes this will be just a friend and you will keep it like that”
then she continued with:
“please take birth control precautions before you regret it”
“don’t come to me later saying I didn’t stop you”
and the cherry on top was:
“I would have preferred if you told me you were a lesbian cause at least that is cool nowadays”.
I was speechless and I still am.
I asked her what is it that she doesn’t like and what is she basing her opinions on, since she literally knows nothing about him. She couldn’t answer. She kept repeating the same things over and over and she also said she would never want to meet him.
I have to mention that the few guys she met that I was dating were of different cultures, but she never had a problem with them, I guess because the skin color was the same… and in her mind there are probably foreigners of Class A, B, C…
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I neither expected such a bad reaction.
All this hurts me so much.
I don’t know what to do.
In my mind it neither makes sense cause she married an immigrant but it seems like she never really came to terms with it, she never really accepted it. For instance, I know nothing about my father’s culture, I never learned the language or interesting facts about it because nobody ever thought me anything about it. I only learned about my mother’s culture, the one of the country I lived in. And I always felt out of place because this country is extremely racist. The fact that my father was not a good husband or father has nothing to do with where he comes from. If a person is an idiot, is an idiot no matter what. And I told her this when we were talking. The fact that she had a bad experience doesn’t mean that I will, just because I’m seeing someone from a different culture. I also explained to her that I am myself an immigrant, since I’m living in another country. But it doesn’t seem to click in her head. And when I told her, to her face, that she is indeed racist, she obviously denied it, because how can she be racist if she married an immigrant herself?
And of course during today’s conversation there was some victim behavior on her side, because every time I come back here it’s certain that we are gonna fight and every time it happens I say stuff like “let’s see when and if I will come back again!”. So she was bringing that up cause the other day I said “the first racist comment I hear I’m gone”. She mentioned that, saying I don’t care about her, that she has to beg for me to call her (mind you, we write good morning, good night, text here and there during the day and we talk on the phone 3/4 times a week…). She even said that “she lost me already the moment I left”. Honestly, I don’t know what else more than this she expects from me if what I do is not enough already.
I don’t really know how to handle this. And I’m also just venting and need some support. I wished we could all act as adults, respect each other, have a normal relationship. Am I asking for too much?!
Any advice is highly appreciated.
I’ll be stuck in her house for the next two days and I’ll leave on Thursday. I want her to think about her actions and realize where she did wrong before I leave. I don’t wanna put this under the carpet cause it’s unacceptable and will never forget it.
TL;DR: my 25F mother 56F doesn’t approve of my boyfriend 28M just because of the color of his skin and his religion. Her opinion is based solely on a photo I showed her and at the same time she plays the victim and claims she lost me the moment I moved abroad and I don’t care about her even if we talk everyday. I wished there was a way to behave like adults. Advices on setting boundaries?

I (32) female married my (50) male significant other last October. The wedding had a few hiccups, but otherwise was a beautiful ceremony. I didn't notice anything was really wrong though until the reception. My ministers husband decided to take pictures during the ceremony (he often does this of anything that his husband does). I didn't think anything of it until he asked us during the reception why we had no photographer and if we would like him to take photos of the reception as well. It was a weird observation as my dad had asked a family member months ago to take pictures of my big event. I thought nothing of it until I said something to my dad and brother and my brother explained to me that the family member approached him before the ceremony throwing a fit about how I had replaced her with another photographer. I went to talk to her to try and explain how I had no idea the minister's husband was going to take photos. As I tried to explain as I wanted her to take photos for us as planned she said "not the place." I continued to try and explain. She then very loudly called me a "btch" in front of everyone. I walked away to go to the kitchen where my dad was to tell him what just happened and she continued to call me that word louder and louder until she could be heard through the entire reception hall over the music and loud enough all of the guests plus us in the kitchen could hear her. I tried to ignore her, but she wouldn't stop until my dad had to kick her out. I found out later that she made fun of us and our ceremony during the whole thing calling it a "sht show" amongst other things, before going out and getting drunk between the ceremony and reception (I didn't find all of this out until 2 months afterwards). My parents and husband all tell me that I am NTA as I didn't know the minister's husband was planning on taking photos. However, the other family member and her kids are all telling everyone it's my fault as I was clearly lying about knowing about the other photographer and I am the reason she got kicked out of the reception.She refuses to peak to us despite me apologizing for not letting it go at the reaction. My dad tried to explain to her what happened and she told him that he is lying to protect me. She has a history of bullying not only my dad his whole life, but also me and would throw tantrums or start fights at our birthday party's, graduations, etc. Even tried to at my beother's wedding, but his ex wife's grandma stopped her ( just for background information). AITA?

Two years ago, I had just moved to a new house from a different neighbourhood for work. I was settling in and getting used to the place, but I was still lonely and went through bouts of depression.
My ex-boyfriend of five years had ended the relationship a while before I moved, and I wasn't having much luck going on dates. I eventually decided to focus my energy into work and fitness instead, but the loneliness lingered. The house still felt empty at times, and the silence was painful. I went through the motions numbly as the days passed by.
About two months after I had moved in, I started noticed a stray dog pacing around my front yard from time to time. It had big, brown, sad eyes, and there was no collar around its neck. I couldn't tell you what breed it was - a reverse Google image search tells me it looks like an Indian Pariah dog. I could always recognize it, as its left eye was slightly larger and darker than the right, but that gave it some unique charm. After seeing it outside my front door for three days straight, I put up some posters along my street inviting anyone who might have lost a dog to call me. I quickly learned that I probably shouldn't have done that, after getting a few silent calls from an unknown number that I eventually chalked up to being a prankster or some scammer.
I called a local animal shelter and them pictures of the dog. A guy came over to scan the dog for a microchip, but found nothing. He said it was most likely abandoned as a puppy. He could take it back to the shelter, or I could look after it for the time being - they would contact me if anyone ever tried to claim it. My grandad had a german shepherd that I used to love playing with, so I always had a soft spot for dogs and agreed to look after it, even if it was for a while. The guy from the animal shelter advised that if I didn't hear back in a week, I should take it to the vet to get it checked out and microchipped, or to the shelter if I didn't want to keep it.
I took care of the dog and let it roam around the living room, with free access to the back yard. I decided to name him Charlie, and purchased more dog food, a labelled dog collar, some brushes to groom him with and dog toys. The nearest vet was a two hour drive away. Work was busy so I wasn't incredibly flexible for a visit, but I managed to get an appointment booked in two weeks' time.
The first night I spent with Charlie, I realized that he might just be what I needed in my life. Late in the evening, I sat on the couch looking at him, sitting quietly in the middle of the room on my wooden floor. I began talking out loud to Charlie. It seemed stupid at first, but the way he sat quietly and listened was comforting. After a while, I got more into it, and vented about my loneliness and frustrations to the point of tears.
How I stayed with my cheating, gaslighting ex-boyfriend because I was too insecure to be alone, until he dumped me. All my failed dates, and how I thought I would die alone and unloved. I poured my heart out to my new companion, spilling my deepest secrets until I cried myself to sleep. The next day, I again began talking to Charlie about the pain and depression I had been through, and he listened patiently once more. I discovered that spending time with my new friend was cathartic. Perhaps I needed to get it all out, and be listened to for once, even if not fully understood.
The third day after I had taken Charlie in, I woke up to realize that I'd overslept half an hour. I poured some food into Charlie's bowl and brushed my teeth at lightning speed, then grabbed my bag and flung the door open, ready to bolt into my car. A surprise greeted me at the front door, that made me stop.
There was a bouquet of red and pink roses on my front door step.
I picked it up and looked at it, confused. There was no note attached or anything. I couldn't think of who it would be from - I obviously hadn't been on any dates recently. Being late for work, I didn't have much time to ponder, so I dropped the roses back on my doorstep and drove off. During the drive, I panicked for a second at the thought that it could have been my ex, but then realized he didn't know my new address, or even that I had moved. The mystery bugged me all day at work. When I came back home, the roses were gone, so I assumed someone had accidentally left them at the wrong address.
That night, I woke to the sound of creaking. As I opened my eyes slightly, I saw something at the foot of my bed and bolted upright, adrenaline rushing through me. As the fogginess faded, my heart rate settled a little.
"It’s just you, Charlie," I sighed, "you scared me."
Charlie continued to stare at me from the foot of my bed. After a minute, he stood up and left the room. I didn't think much of it, and fell back asleep.
For the next week, I continued the usual ritual of talking to Charlie before I went to bed. I would talk about my day, my plans, hopes, dreams and other such things. I found our one way conversations getting more positive each day - they were very therapeutic. Charlie would always stare at me with those big brown eyes and sit quietly still as I talked.
On the morning of the vet appointment, for which I had taken the day off work, I noticed that my car was much cleaner than usual. Had it always been this shiny? I thought. I had driven it to work the Friday before, but I hadn't taken notice of how clean it was then. The last time I had, I could swear there were bird droppings on the back window, and some general grime that covered it all round, but it was now spotless. I pondered for a few seconds, and came to the conclusion that it must've just be a brain lapse on my part - it was probably always clean. Those droppings must have washed away over time with a few rainy nights.
I drove Charlie down to the vet and explained the story of how I'd found him.
"He's very well behaved," she beamed, as she began examining Charlie on the table. "We see a few of these cases from time to time. People's dogs have puppies, and they get sold or abandoned."
"It's a real shame," I sighed. "Charlie's been a star, I'm lucky to have him really. I live alone, so as odd as it sounds, I've been talking to him and it's helped me through some difficult moments."
"That's not strange at all," replied the vet, checking his teeth. "Owning a dog can do wonders for your mental health, especially if you live alo-"
She suddenly stopped.
I stared as she squinted and moved Charlie's head up and down, trying to get a look at something. She plucked a light out of her pocket and aimed it into Charlie's left eye.
"What's wrong?" I asked. She didn't answer, and kept looking at Charlie from different angles. He whimpered slightly.
"Did his eye look like this when you found him?" She asked. I leaned in closer.
"Yeah, I did notice his left eye was slightly darker and larger than his right."
She looked at me for a second and raised her eyebrows, then back at Charlie.
"I'd like to get a closer look at his eye and examine it in the next room, if that's okay?"
"Uh, sure," I said, confused.
Without further explanation, she hastily picked Charlie up and carried him off into a different room. I sat down and waited, reading the news on my phone, expecting her to be back in a few minutes. However, when the vet didn’t come back for a while, my concern began to grow. I paced around the room and tried to glance into the door she had left through a few times.
Then I sat back down and watched the minutes pass by, getting more anxious. Hopefully it's nothing, I thought to myself. An easily curable eye infection perhaps, or a defect he was born with - hopefully it was something like that or nothing. I'd only spent a few weeks with Charlie, but he was the best friend I'd ever had. I had told him so much about me, and he was the only one that had ever really listened to me. I had grown very attached to him quickly, so I almost felt like a worried parent, blaming myself for not bringing him to the vet sooner.
An hour and a half passed, but it felt like eternity. The vet finally came back through the door. I stood up.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Have you noticed any odd events recently?" she asked, "Like, anything you couldn't explain?"
"To do with Charlie?"
"No, just in general. Anything you've seen or heard around you that felt out of place in your life?" She insisted. I took a second to think.
"I'm pretty sure this isn't gonna be relevant," I said, "But I have a couple of times. For instance, this morning I thought my car was a lot cleaner than usual. I've been getting some unknown calls, and hearing some creaking noises at night lately, but I'm sure it's just Charlie walking around and waking me up. And… someone left roses on my front doorstep one day. Didn't say from who, but… Sorry, I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this."
I looked up at the vet, who now had a very concerned look on her face.
"I'm going to have to call the police," she said.
It took a few seconds to register. A million thoughts started racing through my mind. Did I say something wrong? Did she think I was abusing Charlie?
"I swear," I said, "Everything I've told you is true, I'm really sorry it took me so long to bring him in, it's my first time owning a dog and all…"
"No, no, it's not that," she said. She gestured for me to follow her into the room through the door.
Charlie was sitting on a table in the middle of the room. There were a few other tables surrounding it, with dog toys and surgical equipment on them. There was a large hole where his left eye had been, now a gaping black cavity.
The vet pointed at a sheet of blue paper on a table next to the one Charlie was on. There were two black domes resting on it, like two halves of a black ping pong ball had been split in half. A clear fluid was covering the outer sides, and staining the blue paper. There was also a tiny black cube. I looked closer, and saw some red and green wires coming out of the tube.
"I took this out of Charlie's left eye," the vet explained, "I thought my eyes were fooling me, but I took a closer look and was sure this thing definitely shouldn't have been in his head. When I took it out, I thought it was some kind of prosthetic eye, until I heard something moving inside it. I opened it up, and found this."
She pointed at the tiny cube and picked it up with some tweezers, revealing a transparent circular window on one side.
"Now I'm no expert, but I took that apart just now and to me it looked a lot like the inside of a camera lens you'd get on a smartphone."
She looked back at me.
"Do you think…" She paused.
"Do you think it's possible someone could have been watching you for the past few days?"
The police were eventually called and an investigation started. The tiny device inside Charlie's eye was indeed a camera lens with a built in audio recording device, and it had a wireless connection. It was an advanced piece of kit, but with some technical expertise they were able to examine its traffic logs and identify an IP address to which the miniature device was streaming.
That IP address belonged to my neighbor, who lived in the house opposite to mine.
I had never seen him leave the house before, although when I moved in I did see his silhouette in the top floor window a couple of times. He was a fifty five year old balding, slightly overweight man who worked as an engineer, but otherwise lived a reclusive lifestyle. I later found out that he had multiple restraining orders placed against him from ex partners. He had a collection of tiny bugging devices which he had been planting in various places including public women's bathrooms for years. These devices could livestream video and audio to his computer, and in his spare time he would watch and listen to this footage he collected.
A while before I moved into the house, he had purchased a puppy from someone he knew, and kept it as a pet without registering it. I assume he got bored of spying on women in bathroom stalls, and when he saw me move into the house opposite, he suddenly got a wild idea of how he could get a peek at something more intimate. The rest is some truly horrific history.
Charlie had been in my room while I slept and even a couple of times while I undressed. But worst of all, I had told him everything about me. The names of previous partners, things about my family, companies I had worked for and more. I wish I could say that I kept Charlie, but I just couldn't. Not after that. The vet arranged for him to be sent to the animal shelter where I'm glad to say he eventually did find a new home. I also relocated and changed my phone number.
For anyone out there wondering, I'm still single. The difference is that nowadays, I'm completely at peace with being alone. I've experienced a worse alternative, that's for sure.

CANCER ZODIAC TAROT READING - UNEXPECTED INCOME MAY 2024

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ5mIkLhCyY
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I have a 14 y/o brother, with Down's Syndrome (slow mental development). I want to run a D&D campaign with him and my other brother (12 y/o). I have some experience with the game, but my brothers have never played.
I'm fine with worldbuilding & narrating, and I'm going to try to keep the game interesting by focusing a little more on combat & other exciting stuff that's easy to describe.
The character sheet will be a little overwhelming for him, so I'm planning on putting relevant information (attacks, HP, etc.) on some laminated cards. I also plan to use lots of visuals, including pictures of characters and scenes. However, I have a few questions: a) What software should I use to create the info cards? I'm looking for this kind of vibe, and I'd like something that's free.
blank D&D spell card
b) What other kinds of resources are out there for RPGs & people with disabilities? I looked around, but all I could really find was people asking how to play a character with a disability.
c) Anything else you think I might be missing?
Thanks in advance for your input!

A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.