Check out www.coloringsquared.com to make math fun in the final week of school. Print kid favorite characters including Disney, Minecraft, Superheroes, and more. Each picture features 3 versions. There are color by number, addition, subtraction, division, and multiplication versions of the characters. We also feature famous paintings, mandalas, Holidays, multi-page murals and more. You'll have kids asking for more and maybe some to print for the summer. Thanks so much!

The novel begins September 3, 2006, a Sunday. In "physical time," our reality, Andre Agassi played and lost his final match of his career. Steve Irwin, the croc hunter, would die the following day from a stingray's three barbed venomous spinal blades puncturing his heart. Senator Barak Obama was still denying he was intending to run for President (he would announce in February 2007.) The number 1 song in America and the UK is Sexyback by Justin Timberlake. Egypt warned of Palestinian terror attacks against Israelis vacationing in Sinai. Charlie Sheen turned 41. 200 Taliban are killed in a major battle in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Iraqi leaders announce the capture of the #2 leader of Al Qaeda. Europe's space agency purposely crash-lands a lunar probe into the moon.
In short, nothing, on balance seems to have happened in the world that has any particular world-historical or even US-historical import. Just a day. Even searching back 4 extra days from September 3 - since we are told that the man viewing the art installation is now on his fifth straight day in the museum - nothing all that *important* seems to have happened on any of those dates, the way saying a novel is starting on June 6, 1944, or (obviously) September 10, 2001, or July 16, 1945 or November 22, 1962 would be of course trying to tell us something.
Q: why is Delillo's purpose (is there one?) for telling us this specific date? Why is it important that the man is there on September 3, 2006 watching this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a31q2ZQcETw over and over.
Q: who is the man? Delillo himself? Just a random unnamed character? Is it definitely Finley and Elster who are the two men who come into the room? The description of the older man "long white hair braided at the nape" [p.7, Scribner] certainly seems to suggest it is Elster, described in Ch. 1 as a man "with silvery hair, as always, was braided down into a short ponytail." If it is definitely them, what does it mean they attended a museum show together? Anything?
This is not the first Delillo novel to open with a scene where a movie, and anonymous characters' responses to watching it, is central to the narrative - Players opens with a movie being shown on a plane that is basically a silent movie of a terrorist machine-gun attack on waspy golfers, only accompanied by a pianist (yes a pianist) in the airplane bar filling in the suspense with improvised show tunes - and it is not the first to open with an examination of an art installation - Underworld, after the fantastic baseball game section - opens at Klara Sax's airplane bomber art installation commune. But this opening seems to introduce two characters obliquely, and of course only if you've paid close attention to the description of Elster's hair could you think back to it being him, perhaps.
"The nature of the film permitted total concentration and also depended on it." "The less there was to see, the harder he looked, the more he saw." [p.5, Scribner]
Q:Who is this person watching and why should we care?
Q: Did the opening sequence provide you any insight other than , perhaps, confusion? Something other than "what the hell did I just read?" What? Does your reaction to the opening sequence change when you know (if you did before this post) that the Psycho installation was and is real?
Moving on to Chapter 1 [p. 17, Scribner], we learn that we are on Day 10 of a 12-day period of time that relates the initial relationship between Elster and Finley. Finley, who is probably in his early to mid-30s and 73-year-old Elster are spending time at Elster's house in the desert to record a one-take movie of Elster's testimony of what it was like to serve in an administration that went to war under less than honest circumstances.
Our narrator is Jim Finley, a documentary filmmaker who has made exactly one film about Jerry Lewis's telethon appearances - Lewis, a "rampaging comic" to whom Elster would merely be a "straight man." [p.27] Elster, who Finley also describes as "not a man who might make space for even the gentlest correction," [p.22] is a non-political theorist being brought in to an administration to provide narrative to their war. I've seen references to him being based on Paul Wolfowitz, the political scientists who became Deputy SecDef in the Bush II Administration who famously nearly swallowed his comb to wet it to comb his hair in an image that likely sealed his fate in D.C. as unserious and ridiculous who was then shuffled off to the World Bank, but would Delillo ape the man AND mention him in the narrative? If so, that seems clumsy.
Q: Do you even take Elster serious as a character or believable as a "brain" behind the narrative of an administration going to war? A man who speaks in bad koans and aphorisms like "Time becomes blind." [p.23] and who reads Louis Zukovsky into the night? (Zukovsky famously worked on an epic poem called "A" for over almost 50 years, finally finishing it a few years before his death in 1978.)
Finley tells us: "To Elster, sunset was human invention, our perceptual arrangement of light and space into elements of wonder." [p.18, Scribner]. Elster has come to the desert to seek - something - we know not what and are not told definitively - but his narrative of what his role was in Washington was to create a interpretation of the "closed world" for the "plotters, the strategists" [p. 28] and ends up delivering to Finley what I think Finley was after - the cynical idea that Elster was giving form and shape to the government's bullshit narrative - "The state has to lie. There is no lie in war or in preparation for war that can't be defended. We went beyond this. We tried to create new realities overnight, careful sets of words that resemble advertising slogans in memorability and repeatability."
Q: Is Elster ultimately right? Did the country have a "shadowy need" [p.34] for such a narrative? See, for instance: "Let's roll." [probably in reality, "Let's roll it" referring to a beverage cart to break into the cockpit.]
"Shock and awe." "Global War on Terror" "Slam dunk" "WMDs" "The Surge" And perhaps most infamously "Enhanced Interrogation Techniques"
At the ends of the chapter, we get what counts as a cliffhanger in this slim novel: Elster's adult daughter would be coming for a visit, Jessie who was "otherworldly" [p. 36].

[I wrote this article about Macbeth for my college's newspaper, and I thought this subreddit might enjoy reading it!]
I have joked before that Shakespeare’s two favorite subjects–surpassing love, murder, madness, and crossdressing–are botany and birds. If you’ve been to New York City you might be aware of the “Shakespeare Garden” in Central Park, whose theoretical aim (though it proves nigh-impossible in practice) is to house specimens of all the plants which Shakespeare mentions in his plays. As it turns out, Bard quotes make for quite a diverse garden: there are roses which assuredly would smell as sweet by any other name; there are daffodils, that come before the swallow dares, and take the winds of March with beauty; there’s holly, heigh-ho; there’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance, there’s pansies, that’s for thoughts, there’s fennel for you, and columbines–no word on whether or not they could find any violets, though. I suppose there’s no objection to be made against those who complain that Shakespeare’s language is “flowery”; even as vicious a villain as Iago deigns to express his philosophy on life by way of botanical metaphor: “Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.” And, of course, the plot of A Midsummer Night’s Dream revolves around a magical flower which makes people fall in love.
I doubt anyone will object to my claiming of birds as Shakespeare’s other poetical fixation: I suspect that the majority of falconry knowledge which most non-falconers have today comes from reading footnotes in their copies of Shakespeare plays, explaining exactly what Richard II means by “How high a pitch his resolution soars,” or why Hamlet says “Hillo, ho, ho” to Marcellus. But while plants are so common in Shakespeare that I don’t know of one play which we might say is especially densely forested with references to them, there is one play that stands out as particularly full of birds in comparison with the rest of the Shakespearean canon. That play is Macbeth.
This is the sort of thing that one only notices after having read a play so many times that the actual events of the plot become akin to the meter of a poem–beats which must be hit, and which start to feel so natural that one hardly notices them–and one’s attention drifts away from the big, important speeches and toward the more utilitarian words and odd little moments that bridge them. I am not the first to point it out, but it is, all the same, a delightful quirk of the play, and could be a good way for Sophomores to throw their classmates for a loop in seminar [Note: Students at our college study Macbeth during their Sophomore year.]: why are there so many birds in Macbeth?
KING. Dismay’d not this/Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? SERG. Yes,/As sparrows eagles… -Act I, Scene II
LADY. …The raven himself is hoarse/That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan… -Act I, Scene V
BAN. This guest of summer,/The temple-haunting martlet, does approve/By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath/Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze/Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird/Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle… -Act I, Scene VI
LADY. Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman… -Act II, Scene II
LADY. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. -Act II, Scene II
PORTER. …come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose… -Act II, Scene III
PORTER. ‘Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock… -Act II, Scene III
LENNOX. New hatch’d to the woeful time: the obscure bird/Clamour’d the livelong night… -Act II, Scene III
OLD MAN. …On Tuesday last,/A falcon, towering in her pride of place,/Was by a mousing owl hawk’d at and kill’d. -Act II, Scene IV
MACBETH. …Light thickens; and the crow/Makes wing to the rooky wood… -Act III, Scene II
MACBETH. If charnel-houses and our graves must send/Those that we bury back, our monuments/Shall be the maws of kites. -Act III, Scene IV
MACBETH. Augurs and understood relations have/By magot pies and choughs and rooks brought forth/The secret’st man of blood. -Act III, Scene IV
LADY MACDUFF. …the poor wren,/the most diminutive of birds, will fight,/Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. -Act IV, Scene II
LADY MACDUFF. How will you live? SON. As birds do, mother. LADY MACDUFF. What, with worms and flies? SON. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. LADY MACDUFF. Poor bird! Thou’ldst never fear the net nor lime,/The pitfall nor the gin? SON. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. -Act IV, Scene II
FIRST MURDERER. What, you egg! -Act IV, Scene II
MACDUFF. …there cannot be/That vulture in you… -Act IV, Scene III
MACDUFF. …O hell-kite! All?/What, all my pretty chickens and their dam/At one fell swoop? -Act IV, Scene III
MACBETH. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!/Where got’st thou that goose look? SERVANT. There is ten thousand– MACBETH. Geese, villain? -Act V, Scene III
Above I have listed every ornithological reference that I’ve found in the Scottish Play; as we peruse them, we certainly cannot conclude that every individual reference is of the same kind, or carries the same import. I will not pretend, for example, that, just because geese and ravens are both birds, the Porter’s invitation for the imagined English tailor to cook his goose in Hell merits as much attention as Lady Macbeth’s ominous declaration that “the raven himself is hoarse”. Nor do I think that any individual reference particularly demands explication; by itself, any one of these bird-invocations seems perfectly natural. Shakespeare’s talent is such that he can repeat a motif in such a way that on the macro level it is obvious yet on the micro level it hardly feels present. But that macro level is what interests me here: what impression is created, on the whole, by the presence of so many birds in this play? I have a theory, which, though it may seem far-fetched, I think merits at least some consideration, and which, at the very least, I have not seen stated elsewhere, and so may make a novel contribution to the conversation.
Macbeth is both Shakespeare’s most supernatural tragedy and his most Sophoclean; these two superlatives are inextricably related. The appellative Weird given to the opening scene’s three Sisters–derived from the Old English wyrd, meaning destiny, and famously given its more familiar connotation by Shakespeare himself in this very play–is, among the Bard’s works, unique to Macbeth; and just as that word appears nowhere else in Shakespeare, so is the concept it represents absent in all tragedies but this one. Though Hamlet may cry out against outrageous fortune, and though Othello may rhetoricize about how no man can control his fate, it is only in Macbeth that we truly feel that the events we see play out before us are fated, predestined, inevitable. [See Note 1.] The ghost in Hamlet commands his son to revenge his foul and most unnatural murder, but does not tell him it is certain that he will succeed; indeed, would not the drama be sapped of its intrigue if that level of certainty were present? Meanwhile, the supernatural interlopers in Macbeth offer the Scottish thane not a mission, but a prophecy: All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter! From its mystical opening word–When, not If–the Scottish play makes us aware of the certainty of all that is to befall our tragic antihero. Macbeth is thus a different sort of tragedy than Shakespeare’s others, and it works by an inverted mechanism. While the tragedy of, for example, Desdemona’s death is that it may have been prevented, the tragedy of Macbeth’s destruction is that it represents the fulfilment of fate; and this is the very same mechanism by which Oedipus Rex operates, complete with its own “Weird” character in the form of the seer Tiresias. Though Calvin managed to accept that some men are destined for greatness and others for ruin, this idea is, to Shakespeare and Sophocles, nothing short of agonizing–the stuff of tragedy.
Now: what does all of this have to do with birds? Consider these words from Antigone, spoken by Tiresias to Creon:
You shall learn, when you hear the indications of my art! As I took my place on my ancient seat for observing birds, where I can mark every bird of omen I heard a strange sound among them, since they were screeching with dire, incoherent frenzy and I knew that they were tearing each other with bloody claws, for there was a whirring of wings that made it clear… (Lloyd-Jones translation)
Consider next these words from Oedipus Tyrannus, spoken defensively by Oedipus to Tiresias:
Why, come, tell me, how can you be a true prophet? Why when the versifying hound was here did not you speak some word that could release the citizens? Indeed, her riddle was not one for the first comer to explain! It required prophetic skill, and you were exposed as having no knowledge from the birds or from the gods. No, it was I that came, Oedipus who knew nothing, and put a stop to her; I hit the mark by native wit, not by what I learned from birds. (Lloyd-Jones translation)
The practice of divining the future from birds–be it from their behaviors, their cries, or their innards–was, to Sophocles and his contemporaries, not superstitious hokum, but a practical science at which one could be skilled or unskilled, and it bodes ill for Oedipus that he is so quick to disregard it in favor of his own native wit. [See Note 2] By Shakespeare’s day, the practice had long been relegated to the realm of outdated hocus-pocus, but the Bard still saw some truth in it; in Macbeth, there is a recurring sense that, when the world is sick with some great wrong, its first symptoms manifest in the behavior of birds. When the “fatal bellman” the owl shrieks in the night, Lady Macbeth takes it as a sign that her husband is about his bloody business. The day after the murder of Duncan, as Ross converses with an Old Man about the strange things they’ve seen the previous night, “unnatural/Even as the deed that’s done”, the killing of a falcon by a mousing-owl–an omen straight out of Sophocles–is mentioned before the madness and cannibalism of Duncan’s horses, even though the latter would surely be more immediately noticeable and ghastly than the former.
These are the most obvious examples of birds as ill omens in Macbeth; yet even the more innocuous invocations of birds throughout the rest of the play continually turn our thoughts back to the ancient Greek understanding of fate and prophecy, and thereby remind us that, however savagely he may fight at Dunsinane, Macbeth’s fate is as fixed as that of Oedipus. The birds have already foretold all.
Note 1: The closest thing there is to this kind of fatalness in another Shakespearean tragedy is the several superstitious occurrences in Julius Caesar–both the soothsayer’s message of “Beware the ides of March” and the bestial portents such as the lack of a heart in an offering and the whelping of a lioness in the streets. Still, I will insist that these omens do not convey a sense of fatedness to the audience as strongly as the Weird Sisters in Macbeth by virtue of their being told to Caesar himself, not to Brutus, the play’s true protagonist, and by the fact that Shakespeare elsewhere uses dialogue to throw some doubt upon the idea of predestination: "Men at some times are masters of their fates:/The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,/But in ourselves, that we are underlings." -I.ii
Note 2: The Liddell-Scott Greek Lexicon identifies at least two separate verbs referring to bird-based divination, both of which are present in the quoted passages: Tiresias uses ορνϊθοσκοπέομαι, observe birds, interpret their flight and cries, while Oedipus uses οιωνίζομαι, take omens from the flight and cries of birds. The latter term comes from οιωνος, a large bird, bird of prey, such as a vulture or eagle, and so distinguished from a common bird, while the former comes from ορνις, which more generally refers to a bird, including birds of prey and domestic fowls. Birds of both kinds are present in Macbeth; there are οιωναι, such as the “falcon, towering in her pride of place”, as well as ορνες, like the Porter’s goose and cock. I therefore see little value in interrogating the kinds of birds invoked by Shakespeare, the specific cultural associations and significance of the owl, the raven, or the wren; rather, if we reduce them down to their barest existence as birds, animals of the class Aves, and consider them in an ancient Greek light, then things become a bit clearer.

I've read the rules of this sub and think this question fits.
Tldr: do non-white non-high control communities laugh loudly together? Alone? Not just, a polite laugh. A spirited, "raucous" laugh. Bothering people, crying yourself laughing. I wasn't allowed that growing up.
I've noticed especially watching comedians particularly famous in black communities, (background I was raised Mormon and white. I have educated myself but you're always ignorant.) such as Gary Owen, Katt williams that I've been exposed to recently, the laughter is lively. Spirited. I've also noticed while watching Maya Angelou read Still I Rise that laughter is very important to the reading of the poem, both as the reader and an audience participant. Even in a reading by Nikki Minaj at an A&E event that seems quite rich and California, she and the audience knew to laugh at the right time, though a completely different level of spiritedness.
My family is pretty stringent on laughter. My father has a booming laugh but my mother and sister are always shushing him and complaining about the volume. Meanwhile, they have all inherited my grandfather's sneeze, which involves near screaming when you let the sneeze out. I don't see why throwing my back out sneezing is any worse than laughing loudly.
Angelou - https://youtu.be/qviM_GnJbOM Minaj - https://youtu.be/WDfuJIBpXPM
Why do you laugh the way you do? (Regardless of background) Is there cultural context to laughter? Was there a significant impact by Angelou's poem on black communities? I found the concept of laughter and joy as resistance to be very powerful, and I wonder if it was employed or passed down.
White people feel like, polite at shows sometimes? I personally have difficulty regulating my volume and yeah I'd appreciate it if someone lmk I was talking WAY too loud but my girlfriend and family shushes me like. All the time, just for laughing. I see this less among some of the younger audiences I watch, Stavros Halkias and Nate Jackson's crowd work, people seem to let loose a little more. Did I just grow up in a cult so I'm weird lol?

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead in the next 24 hours.
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
~~Edit 5 :) ~~
Levi is next to me right now, an odd smile on his face.
The bugs are not finished building him yet, but he'll be ready soon.
We will be ready soon.
Your son says hello! He is a wonderful boy, is he not?
Mr and Mrs Costella, I cannot wait for you to meet him.
He is our greatest achievement, and rest assured, you will give us what we want.
Warm regards.
The Cartwright's.

Week 7: Limericks and Acrostic Poetry - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the whimsical nature of limericks and the creative use of acrostic poetry. - Understand the structure and humor in limericks. - Discuss the artistic possibilities of using acrostic forms.
Day 1: Introduction to Limericks - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of limericks. - Explanation of the AABBA rhyme scheme and humorous themes.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What appeals to you about the whimsical nature of limericks?
  2. How does the AABBA rhyme scheme contribute to the humor in limericks?
  3. Can you think of any famous limericks or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Limericks - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic limericks. - Exploration of the distinctive rhythm and structure.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the AABBA rhyme scheme and rhythm contribute to the comedic timing in limericks?
  2. What humorous themes or scenarios are commonly found in limericks?
  3. Share your thoughts on the importance of concise storytelling in limericks.

Day 3: Analyzing Limericks - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in limericks. - Exploring the versatility of the form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern limericks evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the whimsical nature of limericks allow for creative expression?
  3. Share examples of humorous scenarios that might work well in a limerick.

Day 4: Crafting Limericks - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the first three lines of a limerick. - Emphasis on establishing humor and rhythm.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the first three lines of a limerick?
  2. How can you establish humor and rhythm within the concise structure?
  3. Share examples of humorous scenarios you might explore in a limerick.

Day 5: Crafting Limericks - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the final two lines of a limerick. - Emphasis on creating resolution and punchline.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why are the final two lines crucial in providing resolution and a punchline in a limerick?
  2. How can a limerick deliver a humorous twist or surprise within its structure?
  3. Share and discuss individual limericks, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a limerick focusing on a humorous scenario or theme.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the first three lines of your limerick. How did you establish humor and rhythm? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and a punchline in the final two lines of your limerick? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a limerick?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of limericks, their AABBA rhyme scheme, and the use of humor within the concise form.
Day 6: Introduction to Acrostic Poetry - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of acrostic poetry. - Exploration of arranging words vertically to create hidden messages.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the creative use of acrostic forms?
  2. How might the arrangement of words vertically enhance the poetic experience in acrostic poetry?
  3. Can you think of any famous acrostic poems or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Acrostic Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic acrostic poems. - Exploration of the different approaches to selecting and arranging words.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the vertical arrangement of words contribute to the overall impact of acrostic poetry?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from using acrostic forms in poetry?
  3. Share your thoughts on the relationship between the hidden message and the overall theme in acrostic poems.

Day 8: Analyzing Acrostic Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in acrostic poetry. - Exploring the diverse ways poets engage with vertical arrangements.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern poets expanded the themes and approaches in acrostic poetry?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of vertical arrangements broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for acrostic poetry.

Week 4: Sestinas and Concrete Poetry - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the intricate structure of sestinas and the visual creativity of concrete poetry. - Understand the fixed pattern of word repetition in sestinas. - Discuss the artistic possibilities of arranging words visually in concrete poetry.
Day 1: Introduction to Sestinas - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of sestinas. - Explanation of the intricate word repetition pattern.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What intrigues you about the intricate structure of sestinas?
  2. How does the repetition pattern contribute to the unique rhythm of sestinas?
  3. Can you think of any famous sestinas or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Sestinas - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic sestinas. - Exploration of the challenge and beauty of word repetition.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the repetition pattern influence the overall rhythm and impact of sestinas?
  2. What themes or emotions are effectively conveyed through this structured form?
  3. Share your thoughts on the significance of word repetition in sestinas.

Day 3: Analyzing Sestinas - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in sestinas. - Exploring the flexibility of the form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern sestinas evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the fixed pattern of word repetition challenge or enhance creativity?
  3. Share examples of themes or emotions suitable for a sestina.

Day 4: Crafting Sestinas - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the first three stanzas of a sestina. - Emphasis on establishing thematic threads through word repetition.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the first three stanzas of a sestina?
  2. How can you establish thematic threads through word repetition in this section?
  3. Share examples of themes or emotions you might explore in a sestina.

Day 5: Crafting Sestinas - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on completing the final three stanzas and envoi of a sestina. - Emphasis on creating resolution and impact.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why is the envoi and final three stanzas crucial in providing resolution in a sestina?
  2. How can a sestina evoke a sense of completeness within the repeated words?
  3. Share and discuss individual sestinas, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a sestina focusing on a theme or emotion that lends itself well to word repetition.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the first three stanzas of your sestina. How did you establish thematic threads through word repetition? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and impact in the final three stanzas and envoi of your sestina? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a sestina?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of sestinas, the word repetition pattern, and the emotional impact of this intricate form.
Day 6: Introduction to Concrete Poetry - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of concrete poetry. - Exploration of arranging words visually to create a visual impact.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the visual creativity of concrete poetry?
  2. How might the arrangement of words visually enhance the poetic experience?
  3. Can you think of any famous concrete poems or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Concrete Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic concrete poems. - Exploration of the ways visual arrangement enhances meaning.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the visual arrangement of words contribute to the overall impact of concrete poetry?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from the visual creativity in these poems?
  3. Share your thoughts on the relationship between form and content in concrete poetry.

Day 8: Analyzing Concrete Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in concrete poetry. - Exploring the diverse ways poets engage with visual arrangements.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern poets expanded the themes and approaches in concrete poetry?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of visual arrangements broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of visual arrangements that you believe would inspire compelling concrete poems.

Day 9: Crafting Concrete Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on selecting a theme and arranging words visually. - Emphasis on creating meaning through form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in selecting a theme and arranging words visually for concrete poetry?
  2. How can you ensure that the visual arrangement enhances the meaning of your poem?
  3. Share examples of themes or concepts suitable for a concrete poem.

Day 10: Crafting Concrete Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing the role of experimentation and creativity in concrete poetry.

Week 15-16: Triolets and Kyrielles
Day 1: Mastering Triolets - Activity: Analyze a classic triolet for its compact structure and repetition. - Lecture: Discuss the characteristics and rhyme scheme of triolets. - Discussion: Share thoughts on the impact of repeated lines in a compact form.
Day 2: Crafting Triolets with Precision - Activity: Break down the process of crafting a triolet. - Lecture: Explore the use of repetition and economy of language in triolets. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual triolets, focusing on the success of repetition.
Day 3: Embracing the Kyrielle - Activity: Analyze a famous kyrielle for its repeating lines and rhythmic qualities. - Lecture: Explain the structure and thematic possibilities of kyrielles. - Discussion: Discuss the challenges and beauty of crafting poems with repeated lines.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Developing a Kyrielle - Activity: Craft a kyrielle exploring themes of resilience or change. - Assignment: Write a triolet on a chosen subject. - Vocabulary Words: Refrain, Rhyme Scheme, Narrative Possibilities.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for triolets and kyrielles. - Lecture: Discuss the impact of repeated lines in triolets and the thematic possibilities of kyrielles. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' work.
Study Guide Questions for Week 15-16: 1. Discuss the characteristics and rhyme scheme of triolets. How does repetition contribute to their impact? 2. Explore the use of repetition and economy of language in crafting triolets. 3. What defines a kyrielle, and how do its repeating lines contribute to its thematic possibilities? 4. Discuss the challenges and beauty of crafting poems with repeated lines in kyrielles. 5. Reflect on the process of crafting triolets and kyrielles. How did you approach the themes and rhythmic qualities?
Quiz: Assessment on triolets, kyrielles, and the impact of repeated lines in poetry.
Week 17-18: Ode to Joyful Ballads
Day 1: Writing Joyful Odes - Activity: Analyze classic odes for their celebratory nature. - Lecture: Discuss the characteristics and structure of odes. - Discussion: Share personal experiences or topics worthy of celebration.
Day 2: Crafting Odes with Precision - Activity: Break down the process of crafting an ode. - Lecture: Explore the use of vivid language and poetic devices in odes. - Discussion: Share and discuss individual odes, highlighting successful elements.
Day 3: Understanding Narrative Ballads - Activity: Analyze a famous ballad for its storytelling qualities. - Lecture: Explain the narrative structure and musicality of ballads. - Discussion: Discuss the challenges and beauty of crafting narrative ballads.
Day 4: Writing Exercise - Crafting a Ballad - Activity: Craft a ballad recounting a personal or fictional tale. - Assignment: Write an ode celebrating an everyday object or experience. - Vocabulary Words: Ode, Stanza, Narrative Structure.
Day 5: Peer Review and Feedback - Activity: Peer review workshop for odes and ballads. - Lecture: Discuss the celebratory nature of odes and the storytelling qualities of ballads. - Discussion: Share insights gained from reviewing peers' work.
Study Guide Questions for Week 17-18: 1. Discuss the characteristics and structure of odes. How do odes differ from other poetic forms? 2. Explore the use of vivid language and poetic devices in crafting odes. 3. What defines a ballad, and how does its narrative structure contribute to its storytelling qualities? 4. Discuss the challenges and beauty of celebrating everyday objects or experiences in odes. 5. Reflect on the process of crafting odes and ballads. How did you approach celebratory themes and storytelling?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of odes, ballads, and the use of vivid language in poetry.

1. Clerihew:

- *Definition:* A whimsical, four-line biographical poem with irregular meter. - *Example:* Craft a clerihew about a famous historical figure or a friend with a humorous twist. 

1. Quatrain:

- *Definition:* A stanza or poem consisting of four lines, often rhymed. - *Example:* Write a quatrain reflecting on the beauty of simplicity in everyday life. 

1. Double Dactyl:

- *Definition:* A light, humorous poem with strict structure and two quatrains. - *Example:* Create a double dactyl capturing a comical moment or character. 

1. Terzanelle:

- *Definition:* A hybrid of the terza rima and villanelle, with 19 lines and a specific rhyme scheme. - *Example:* Craft a terzanelle exploring the cyclical nature of seasons and life. 

1. Haibun:

- *Definition:* A combination of prose and haiku, often describing a journey or experience. - *Example:* Write a haibun narrating a meaningful travel experience, complemented by haikus. 

1. Golden Shovel:

- *Definition:* A form where the last word of each line is taken from an existing poem. - *Example:* Create a golden shovel poem using a line from your favorite poem or song. 

1. Villancico:

- *Definition:* A Spanish poetic and musical form, often festive and celebratory. - *Example:* Craft a villancico capturing the joy of a special occasion or holiday. 

1. Tercet:

- *Definition:* A stanza or poem consisting of three lines. - *Example:* Write a tercet expressing the beauty of resilience in the face of adversity. 

1. Sevenling:

- *Definition:* A seven-line poem with a specific pattern and often narrative in nature. - *Example:* Compose a sevenling reflecting on a vivid childhood memory. 

1. Palindrome Poetry:

- *Definition:* A poem that reads the same backward as forward. - *Example:* Write a palindrome poem exploring the balance between chaos and order. 

I know that the title sounds ridiculous and that many will say that 16 is still very young. But for some reason it doesn't feel like it. I feel like I'm just constantly trying to catch up with time. I don't have anything that I'm passionate about. Sometimes I'll get intrested in something, daydream about becoming some great next thing , and then the flame just burns out. I'm so jealous of people who have a passion that they can stick to. I know many people around me who have something like this, and I feel like I'm behind them because I don't. In fact, many people in my class are very accomplished people. Two girls in my girls do ballet and dance in a theatre. Another girl in my class does competitive dancing. A guy from my class plays football and is also a math genius. Another plays tennis and travels a lot. I have a few people in my class who draw. Some sing and play instruments. A girl from a higher class that I'm acquaintances with plays in theatre. Another girl that I know, was awarded last year by our city as the most accomplished student. She was also the school president last year, was a part of the debates team, and a part of youth city council.
I could probably list more but I think you get it. Everyone around me is so accomplished, has something that they are passionate about while I feel like I have nothing. Whenever I find something that I think must be it, I end up losing intrest after awhile.
I took swimming classes for about 7 years. ( wasn't really something that I was passionate about. It's my parents that signed up ). I have tried learning a new language but always end up quitting for some reason. Currently I can only my native and English.
I used to draw a lot back when I was like 10/11 and watched a lot of tutorials on yt but nothing ever came out of it. I kind of stopped being intrested in it and now I'll draw something once every few months.
I also wanted to write my own book. ( I kind of still want to tbh ). But I feel like I can never form a good enough idea. In terms of writing, I also songwrite sometimes. I don't do it super often. And I'm more often than not dissatisfied with what I write.
Took guitar classes for about 2 years. I quit as the classes focused mainly on playing classical music. While I just wanted to know enough to be able to play the songs that I like. Right now, I barely play. I go through phases when I play guitar non stop for a few weeks , put it down and then won't even touch it for the next few monts. Not to mention my playing is extremely mediocre.
I used to sing too. I was in the church choir from when I was 8 up to when I was 10. I started taking singing classes when I was in 5th grade and resigned this year. It was a hard decision but next year I'll be starting the IB program. And I know from my teachers , and people in classes above me how hard it can be. I'll be taking chemistry, biology and english for HL and math , native and psycholoy for SL. And unfortunately with chemistry, I've heard that the two teachers we have are not the best at teaching. Which means that I'll have to study a lot on my own. This year I already struggled with trying to with mingling singing with all my school work and other responsibilities. And at the end decided that it's just not possible for me.
I was in the debates team this year. We managed to get second place in a national tournament. Unfortunately, I also won't continue next year. This was extremely time consuming and caused me a lot of stress. And next year I want to focus mainly on my studies. Maybe I'll take part in some single competitions but I'm not too sure about it yet.
Everything that I do just seems to ends after sometime. And it just frustrates me so much. I always wanted to be an accomplished person. When I was little, I used to be a " performer ", that's what my family memebrs always tell me. I would sing, dance, recite poems and make my own plays for them too watch. I remember some of them joking that I'm going to be a star. From people in my elementary I heard similiar things.
Nowdays I just hear that I used to be more out there. That I don't sing anymore. That I'm not as loud as I used to be. Sometimes I think that the reason why I can't get into anything is because my true passion is just trying to impress other people.
After I graduate, I'd like to study medicine to become a psychiatrist. My dream univeristy is Oxford. Which I know sounds ridiculous, knowing that I don't have the money to pay for the tution. I've heard of something called a full ride scholarship. Which apparently covers all the school expenses. But I've also heard that it's almost impossible to get. And that you really need to stand out to be able to get it. So as much as I want it, I know that it's probably not possible for me.
Right now, I'm trying to learn japanese. And I've also been thinking recently of learning how to figure skate. I'm not thinking of signing up to any class, I just want to try it on my own so I won't have anything obligations. I'm hoping that this time it'll work
I know this post is all over the place probably but I just wanted to say everything that's on my mind.

Abstract
Memory note, on rules of dialogue engagement, about not wasting limited space-time existence with mentally backwards-walking🚶‍♀️➡️🧠 puerile hecklers from the audience.
Sheikh Mahmoud
Mental note
The following (12 May A69) is a mental 💭 wake-up note 📝 to self:

“If someone from the linguistics community, i.e. those lost in PIEland 🥧🏝️ beliefs or ShemLand pandering, e.g. as post-amassing monthly now in linguisticshumor (100K+ members), or Egyptology community, being confused by learned incorrect CartoPhonetics foundations, or whatever 20+ EAN-impacted communities, using the Sheikh Mahmoud technique, calls you ”schizo-typic” 💊, e.g. here, here (N[7]R, 2-4 May A69), this 18+ user (aka puerile) even deleting their entire reddit account, a few days later (a commonly seen anti-EAN phenomenon), after given a 7-day ban for fouling on red flag 🚩 DebateLinguistics (DL) discussion rules, a “schizo” babbler, e.g. here (V[8]V, 11 May A69), or “schizo-phrenic” here (J[13]R, 31 Mar A69) AND posts, repeatedly, that I am “crazy” 🤪 here, here (J[13]R, 24 Apr A69), etc., these being the two main anti-EAN derogation mud 💩 slinging terms employed, in growing weekly or monthly derogations; all because I have begun (11 Feb A67/2022), since the Pandemic, to work on EAN theory (Swift, A17), evidenced by the LeidenI350 stanzas, which proves that all ABGD-based languages — the English, Latin, Greek, Sanskrit based languages most importantly, as explaining this combined group solves the famous Jones common “source language” problem:

Jones on the common source hypothesis:

“Sanskrit (संस्कृत), Greek (Έλληνε), Latin, Gothic, Celtic, and possibly old Persian, must have sprung from some 🗣️ common source?”
— William Jones (169A/1786), Asiatick Society of Bengal, Third Anniversary Discourse, Presidential address, Feb 2

The 🆕 common source being Abydos, Egypt (5700A/-3745), e.g. here, here, etc., the center of the new EgyptoIndoEuropean (EIE language family).

— words, Etymo, phonetics, and AlphabetOrigin, and alphabet “order”, derive directly from the 28 symbol LunarScript; which formed in the 500-year Sesostris (ΣΕΣΟΣΤΡΙΣ) [1285] empire, e.g. here, here, etc., world language domination window, between 3300A and 2800A, wherein the Egyptians impressed their language system on people, similar to how the Romans, during the Roman empire era, impressed Latin on people; which, in short, was imprinted, similar to a language coding computer program, onto the minds 🧠 of people, in the form of the 28 number-letter Osiris-themed ”Egyptian alphabet”, the first 14-letters: A to N, arranged in so-called: hoe 𓁃, 𓌹, 𓍁 [A], sow 𓁅, 𓂺 𓏥 (𐤄, E), reap 🌱𓌳 [M], and 150-day flood 💦 [N], yearly agricultural cycle, aka ”farming order” (Horner, A67); wherein a four layered social structure was encoded: farming, priests, warriors, government, gods, defined by laws, was encoded; spoken about, in geometric and cosmology terms, by Plato, Plutarch, Young, Swift, Gadalla, and Rehab; all derived from so-called “reduced” Egyptian GodGeometry and EgyptoLinguistics; a new number-coded language, formulated by Egyptian mathematicians, engineers, e.g. here, and cosmologists:

Psychoyos on engineered language invention hypothesis:

“It is strange how everybody wonders 💭 if it was possible❓for humble workers, Semite prisoners of war in fact [Gardiner, 39A], to have invented 💡alphabetic 🔠 writing ✍️? But no one should discuss the possibility of the invention alphabetic writing to have been the work of ⚙️ engineers, even though the myths seem to point in this direction? Maybe alpha, beta, gamma, delta ... represent 1, 2, 3, 4 ... in some 🗣️ language?”
— Dimitris Psychoyos (A50/2005), “The Forgotten Art of Isopsephy“ (pg. #)

[continued]

originally described by the seven main Egyptian numerals, dating to the 5300A TombUJ number tags 🏷️, which attest letter-number H (8), as 𓐁 [Z15G], i.e. two palms 𓂪, and letter-number R (100), as the solar 🌞 ram head 𓍢 [Z1], and the 5700A Naqada I period black-rimed vase, which attest the proto letter-number I (10), as type: ∩, the Horus 𓅃 solar 🌞 falcon in the Hathor 𓁥 Milky Way 🌌 cow 🐮 yoke home 𓉡, aka letter omega Ω [800] presently; a 6K+ year old Egyptian cosmology star 🌟 story, recorded by 1,050+ HieroTypes; the oldest of which being letter-number H [8] or 𓐁 [Z15G], in the attested form: 𓏽 (𓂪) / 𓏽 (𓂪), found extant on the 20,000A Ishango math 🧮 bone 🦴, Congo, Africa; all of which predicates a steep 4-year or more learning curve, in order to understand what is going on:

New EAN member who has previously enjoyed read Fideler (A38):

“There’s a steep barrier to entry on this material in terms of time commitment and information processing ability.”
— O[19]0 (A69), “comment”, Hebrew Numerals, May 9

[continued]

Subsequently, as I only have so many days of space-time existence left on this planet 🌍, the 3rd rock 🪨 from the sun 🌞, who the Egyptians referred to by the hiero-name: 𓀭 𓃀 𓅬 [A40-D58-G38] (here), to use to finish the scheduled 6-volume EAN book 📚 set, so I can get back to the HumanChemThermo (HCT) derivation and final scheduled target 🎯 HCT publication; it thus behooves me 🚧 not to engage in dialogue with those who drop either the S-bomb 💣, the C-bomb 💣, or other DL red flag 🚩 terms, as these types of people already have their mind “made up”, being pre-disposed to backwards non-open-mined thinking 🤔, their brain 🧠 anchored ⚓️ in accepted “standard” status quo, but logically incongruent, ideology and dogma; and no amount of arguing or discussion will convince them otherwise, as has been evidenced in the 1.5-year open window🪟of free-going discussion, in the early period of Reddit EAN; or to reply to people whose refutation is “LOL, you are not a scientist, and do not know peer review!”, a comment made while I was making this mental note.
It is better, as Planck said, to let the old generation die off, so that the new generation will allowed sunlight so to grow to the new view.”
— Libb Thims (A69), “mental note”, wake-up state, 9:35 PM CST, May 12

Mental note Follow-up #1
The following is the “reduced“ version of the former:

“Do not 🚧 engage [DNE] with puerile minds.”
— Libb Thims (A69), ”mental note”, wake up state (sleep: 11-hours); thoughts on previous day wake up mental note, combined with V[4]S, in this post, who dropped the S-bomb 💣, to which I replied with pro-tip rule, at the Russian (language) sub, about the following letter L type switch from: Λ → Л, between my name in print as: Λибб Тимс, below my photo, versus this the Google translate name Либб Тимс (Libb Thims) or say Леонард Эйлер (Leonard Euler) also shown in the article, below his photo, spelled as Λеонард ЭйΛер in this A52 (2007) Russian article. It still boggles my mind how someone throw the S-bomb at someone for asking the simple question: “how: Λ → Л?”, 3:30PM CST May 13

Mental note Follow-up #2

”You are wasting my space-time.”
— Libb Thims (A69), truncated summary of previous, 2:23AM May 14

Pro tip!
A good rule of thumb to shut-down the conversation with the do-not-engage-with (DNEW) types of users, is just to paste the following, which links to this mental note page:
Reply.
In other words, it should not be that difficult to have a coherent ABC conversation about the origin of ABC, or the new theory of the Egyptian origin of language 🗣️ , without recourse to a trip down the sewer 🕳️ drain, the city trash 🚮 dump, or to the happy default land of ad-hominem-ville?

Buckle in, guys - this is going to be a long one. Also, I come out of the closet...as a Swiftie. HMU if you want me to bring friendship bracelets to Brooklyn.
Any resemblance to real people is...not coincidental, actually.

Race Information

• Name: Boston Marathon
• Date: April 15, 2024
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Location: Boston, MA
• Website: https://www.baa.org/
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/11188906240/overview
• Time: 3:04:31

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Don't totally kill my legs	Sorta
B	Get the finish	Yes
C	2:55	No
D	3:00	No

Splits

Kilometer	Time	Pace (min/mi)
5	20:25	6:35
10	20:50 (41:15)	6:43
15	20:39 (1:01:54)	6:40
20	20:44 (1:22:38)	6:41
Half	4:31 (1:27:09)	6:38
25	16:20/20:51 (1:43:29)	6:45
30	21:43 (2:05:16)	7:01
Heartbreak Start (20M/32K)	10:03 (2:15:19)	7:24
Heartbreak End (21M/33.6K)	6:56 (2:22:15)	6:57 (lmao)
35	5:30/22:29 (2:27:45)	7:22
40	27:03 (2:54:48)	8:42*
Finish	9:43	7:08*

(Boston does intermediate splits late-race starting 35k (35K, 23M, 24M, 40K, 1 mile out), so so the last two splits are aggregates.)

Race Information

• Name: London Marathon
• Date: April 21, 2024
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Location: London, UK
• Website: http://www.tcslondonmarathon.com
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/11231697234/overview
• Time: 3:09:57

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	3:09:30	No
B	3:09:59	Yes

Splits

Kilometer	Time	Pace (min/mi)
5	22:25	7:12
10	22:36 (45:01)	7:16
15	22:31 (1:07:32)	7:15
20	22:23 (1:29:55)	7:13
Half	4:58 (1:34:53)	7:16
25	17:45/22:43 (1:52:38)	7:19
30	22:27 (2:14:59)	7:13
35	22:42 (2:37:41)	7:19
40	22:34 (3:00:15)	7:16
Finish	9:42	7:08

(London's app shows aggregate splits, so if you look at my official times it'll look like I was perfectly even throughout.)

Opening

Some people overthink their training programs. I overthink my race recaps.
Okay, OP. Why did you do this to yourself?
tl;dr: I'm basic.
Like a lot of people, one of my goals is to be a six-star seven-star finisher (thanks Sydney). Boston and New York were relatively easy to check off, and they've both kind of become my "regulars." I did Chicago last fall after a long delay - originally I was planning on doing it in 2020, but you know what happened. You might have heard about it!
For London, I applied to the lottery - or as they say across the pond, the ballot - last year and got rejected like everyone else does. I had a backup plan, though - I was going to apply to be a pacer. Two of my friends (David and Jazmin) had paced London last year and had a good experience, and they asked me to throw my hat in the ring this year.
...Okay, but OP, HOW did you do this to yourself? I want the deets.
Step 1: qualify for Boston again. (You can do it at Boston, but I don't recommend it because that is absolutely stressful. On the other hand, the one thing worse than trying to BQ at Boston without one in hand is trying to BQ in New York when it's 75 degrees.)
Step 2: apply to be a pacer and pray. London has open pacer applications, although I think they preference returning pacers. Also pacers that have actually paced marathons before. Neither of which applied to me at the time (I had signed up to pace Philly, but applications opened around NYC for this year). However, one thing I don't value is my bodily integrity so I just put down the fastest times I felt comfortable doing.
David, Jazmin, and I got the acceptance emails about a week later. David would be pacing 3:25, Jazmin would be pacing 3:40, and I...would be pacing 3:10, or the fastest group I put down. I remember being at work and listening to "Cornelia Street" by Taylor Swift when I read my email. The only way it could have been more on-the-nose is if it had been "London Boy."
(Also, justice for "Lover.")
Since I'd never internationally traveled before, I applied for a passport in November (just before Thanksgiving). Keep that in mind.

Training/Preparation

*starts laughing with a seamless transition into sobbing*
...ooh boy.
General training (or what SHOULD have happened)
My friend David coaches a group of us, adapting the training program that our club coach used. We're fairly heavy on the MP work, and surprisingly not so much on threshold. A typical week looks like this:

• Monday - easy 60m. Normally, this is about 7 miles.
• Tuesday - track workout; ~2 miles up, ~3 miles total on (at 5KP or faster), ~1-2 miles down
• Wednesday - easy 60m
• Thursday - tempo/MP work (because I know I'm gonna get yelled at). 1-2 miles up, up to 90 total minutes at ~MP down to ~HMP (for me, ~6:30 to ~6:00, roughly), couple of miles down.
• Friday - easy 60m
• Saturday/Sunday - easy one day, LR the other day. LR's normally easy (~8:00 pace or so), but sometimes includes MP chunks. We go up to 23 miles (or 3 hours).
• (Bonus) Doubles whenever I can fit them in during marathon blocks...and strangely enough, I'll usually double on Wednesdays regardless because our local Fleet Feet has a 3-mile group run Wednesday evenings. And yes, I know this is insane but apparently I'd rather be crazy than be alone.

Normally, most of my runs are with friends - so I'll run their easy paces (a bit slower than what I'd run on my own), and then we do our workouts at our own paces.
What ACTUALLY happened
Post-Chicago, I was pretty much unstructured, but ran a couple of more races:

• I paced a HM two weeks post-Chicago (0/10 do not recommend pacing a 1:30 HM on a course with 800 feet of elevation two weeks after your goal marathon, those first few miles hurt).
• I ran with a friend at NYC to help him get a BQ (which he ran 5 minutes under - he's 47, so we did just under 3:15).
• Philly went surprisingly well, considering I had done like two marathons in the previous month and a half.
  • On the plus side, we ended up splitting 1:34:30/1:35:20ish. So a bit hot at the start, but not overly so.
  • On the downside, I ended up taking two bathroom stops. Shout out to my co-pacer Mu for...you know...not having his bladder decide to be embarrassing. Shout out to Liz (the Philly coordinator) for having the good sense to give me adult supervision.

Meanwhile, a bunch of other things happened:

• My primary training partner from last fall tore his meniscus and still can't run.
• Jazmin decided to get a private coach, but still asked me to do some of her workouts with her.
• Another one of my friends made his comeback after being hurt last year - and he's following Daniels and his own schedule, and also asked me to run with him on occasion.
• Meanwhile, the rest of the group stuck to the same schedule I posted before.
• Also, I should mention I'm a terminal people pleaser and hate making decisions.

So by the time it was time to hop back into training, I was floating around pretty aimlessly and - because I didn't really have any performance goals this cycle - I tried to run with everyone as much as I could. I...do not recommend this. By February, I was looking at my messages and considering going into witness protection while figuring out which long run out of three I wanted to show up to.
Suffice to say, my training was disorganized as hell. I think I got a couple of 70-mile weeks in back in February, but kind of fell off in March when I was still dealing with some niggles of my own and also work things. Somehow, I managed to do a couple of races:

• I ran 1:19:5x at NYC Half (like half of this sub apparently).
• Also, I ran a sub-36 10k. A week before Boston. In retrospect, this might have been a mistake.

Meanwhile, my original passport seemingly never arrived. I ended up finally calling the passport center about a week before my London flight (I would have called earlier, but work was crazy and if I'm nothing else, I'm wildly irresponsible), and somehow managed to get an appointment before I left. In Boston (I live about 4 hours away). The day after I was supposed to come home from Boston.

Boston

Pre-Race
This was the less stressful event - on Saturday, I went up with my friend Joe who was spectating. Did the standard Boston race weekend stuff (shout out to Puma for their Sunday shakeout, the amazing panel, and for actually feeding us), met up with our other friends running Boston Sunday, and had dinner with our friends Jazmin and Janna (who were running) and Janna's husband Mark (who was not).
Also, I got my bib signed by Jenny Simpson on Saturday.
Monday, I just did my usual race prep - which is absolutely no prep whatsoever. (To wit, breakfast was "coffee and a banana loaf from Dunkin'.") I met up with Jazmin - who was planning to leave that night - and caught a shuttle to the Common with her. Funny enough, on the bus to Hopkinton we met up with our friend Cole who was getting his sixth star at Boston.
Race Day
I figured I'd go for an "easy 2:55" because Chicago gave me way too much confidence. I started from corral 3 and caught up with Cole (in corral 2) within the first mile. We mostly ran together for about 6 or 7 miles and then I lost track of him. I just assumed he'd dropped me because he's much faster than me. (The guy's currently a 2:30s marathoner. I say that because his lifetime PR is in the 2:20s.)
Gradually, it got warmer and warmer, but I was still feeling relatively good through the first half. I kissed one of the Wellesley students in the Scream Tunnel (to be fair, I was going to mind my own business, but she was standing on top of the fence holding a sign saying "Kiss me if you can reach," and I'm 6'5" and do not back down from challenges), but I mostly maintained pace into Newton.
And then I realized a few things:

1. While the temperature may have been approved by Rob Gronkowski, it was definitely not approved by me.
2. I ran a 2:47 last fall, so I had exactly zero reason to continue to try for a 2:55.
3. I also had to do this again in six days. And that was the deciding factor to just throw in the towel.

So, the last ten miles or so I mostly run-walked, which concerned my friends back home. (I contemplated posting to our WhatsApp group mid-race but that would have been weird.) It felt funny - it's only the second time I've "given up" on a marathon, and while I felt about as good as you can feel after doing 16 miles straight at MP, it was weird to just be so casual about things when I felt like I could still continue to race if I really wanted to.
Anyway, so, long story short:

• Around mile 18, I actually ended up running with a guy that I'd recognized from NYC 2022 - that day, he went down on the side of the course. At Boston, we ran together for about half a mile going back and forth...and then I just let him leave me.
• Somehow, still managed to set a Heartbreak PR. I think.
• I totally missed Joe, Mark, and the three blondes Joe and Mark recruited to cheer for me around mile 25. (I regret to inform all of them that three hot women are not quite as good at getting my attention as three hot men are. 💅🏿)

My finishing time was 3:04:31. Which was my slowest Boston to date, including 2021 where I keeled over on Boylston and ended up in the med tent. I still finished in like 3:00 high or something that day. (This is not a flex, and should not be considered a flex. That day sucked.)
Post-Race
I managed to get myself back to our hotel (also, ended up taking a selfie with an older gentleman on the Silver Line), and waited for Jazmin. And waited. Opening the tracker was pretty worrisome, as she'd slowed down a ton.
Finally, she finished, but she had a rough time. Thankfully, her coach found her at the finish and drove her over to our hotel. And one of her friends picked her up and drove her home. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty worried about her for London six days later.
(I'm intentionally being vague here, but...yeah, it was rough.)
I also found out that Cole finished about 15 minutes behind me (he said he'd been sick the week before, which I didn't know until after the race). Janna did pretty much the same thing that I did, in jogging in the back half. She still ended up on the Fast Women Instagram page (as she should).
Anyway, Janna, Mark, Joe, and I had a rather interesting dinner, and then it was back home on Tuesday. For most of us, anyway.

London

But first, Boston (again)
I did the math and - yeah - it was actually less expensive for me to go back home than to just stay an extra night. Welcome to marathon weekend. Paid through the nose for an expedited passport ($225), but...hey, I managed to get it. Shout out to FlixBus for the hook-up. Honestly, I recommend the 6:30 AM buses.
London (for real this time)
To Taylor Alison Swift: Why would you drop a double album on London Marathon weekend. Not only that, while I was taking a red-eye trans-Atlantic flight. Joe Alwyn wasn't even running it (and I'm not even sure Matty Healy could run 26.2 feet), so you don't even have that excuse. Janna suggested I buy the in-flight WiFi. I opted not to, and in retrospect that was the correct decision. (FWIW, TTPD is okay, but not worth $8 to United. That said, "So Long, London" into "But Daddy, I Love Him" is a hell of a choice.)
Anyway, for London, I flew in with Jazmin and my dad (who was also flying trans-Atlantic for the first time), and meeting David and another one of our friends (who is also named Joe) in London. If you are keeping count, we're up to three Joes in this recap already. Due to an opportune seat swap (shout out to the lady who wanted to sit with her husband, I don't care if you were telling the truth or if you just felt sorry for me), I managed to get a couple of hours of sleep on the flight.
We landed mid-day Friday at Heathrow, got into London, and my dad and I checked in to our hotel. (Right next to Waterloo Station, actually, which was nice!) Or we would have checked in, if everyone wasn't evacuating the hotel because of a fire alarm.
We did manage to get checked in after everything was sorted out, and then it was off to the expo (or the show, as London puts it). When we signed up, we had to volunteer for a 2-hour shift at the expo - and in our infinite wisdom, we chose the 3:30-5:30 shift. I spent most of that shift trying to explain why we ran out of 3:20, 3:25, 3:50, and 3:55 pace bands (god speed to the pacers for those groups).
Also, I picked up my gear for pacing - including the uniform (excuse me, kit), pacer flag, and the shoes. In my case, because I have clown feet (14 US/13.5 UK), they ended up being 1080s. And since London strongly encourages us to wear NB, I did not bring my usual shoes (Endorphin Elites).
"OP, it seems like you make a lot of poor planning decisions," you might be saying if you're still reading this. And...yes, yes, I agree. (Technically, I could wear whatever shoe, I'd just need to cover the logos. But I figured I'd be running 22 minutes slower than my PR so I'd be fine regardless.) I will say the 1080s are comfortable, though. Very loud - it's the London colorway, so imagine my size shoe in highlighter yellow, orange, and hot pink - but comfy.
Got back to the hotel, had dinner, argued with my dad about English electrical ports (despite what they look like, they are not USB ports), and tucked in for the night.
Saturday was mostly sightseeing - David, Jazmin, and I did a shakeout run around Westminster and caught the start of the Mini Marathon, and then my dad and I walked around a bit. Also did a night bus tour - shout out to Emma and Julie from Golden Tours - and had the standard pasta dinner. I went to bed around 9...only to get woken up at 10 by yet another fire alarm. After stumbling outside in 5-degree weather and back to our hotel, I somehow managed to get back to sleep.
Race Morning
Whoever labeled Waterloo East on literally every map by the platform instead of the entrance: your mum.
After having a surprisingly leisurely breakfast and a surprisingly hard time finding the entrance for the train station, I managed to hop the train out to the start of the race. Met up with David and Jazmin (apparently they were in the last car and I was in the middle of the train), and then we went out to the pacer meetup in the basement of the Clarendon Inn.
Imagine a small basement room with 140 people speaking multiple languages crammed in together, and that kind of approaches the chaos we were dealing with. You also have to add in a very assertive British guy with a whistle (shout out to Akram, the London coordinator). From past experience, David and Jazmin decided to leave for the corrals (or waves - I feel like London has its own language) around 9, and I went with them to our starts (blue for me and Jazmin, green for David).
I put on my flag (which I've never run with before - every other race has been with a hand-held sign) and immediately became one of the most popular people at the London Marathon. Most of my time was spent going, "uh I guess I'm running even 🤷🏿‍♂️," which I am sure boosted everyone's confidence in me.
The Race
London is similar to NYC where there are three separate starts that merge into one course. London's merges are a bit earlier than NYC's - Blue and Green merge in the first mile or so, and then Yellow/Red merge in around mile 3. (Not sure why they use two colors for that start!) The major difference is that there isn't one unified starting gun - in fact, the starts are pretty spread out, and it feels more like a rolling start. From big-race experience, I knew my GPS would be off, so I'd have to rely on my elapsed time and my pace band. I tried to yell out splits every mile and every 5k (so yes, I was the annoying American with the especially annoying New Jersey accent yelling out random numbers).
The first mile was relatively easy and uncongested - in fact, I was a bit concerned because I was a little fast (7:11 by my reckoning). And then we came up behind the Green 3:15 pace group. Famously, Comrades Marathon (at least - I'm not sure if this is a South Africa thing, or specific to that race) refers to their pace groups as "buses." I can see the comparison, as trying to maneuver safely around the pace group while knowing I had my own group felt like trying to parallel park a double-decker bus.
Somehow, we managed to pass them relatively safely...and then we came up behind the Yellow 3:15 group. I was pretty stressed, I'll admit. (The next largest race I've been a pacer for is Philadelphia, which is at most 1/4 the field size.) Somehow, I managed to keep people with me, although I admittedly didn't look too much.
That said, it says something when Cutty Sark feels like one of the more open places on the course.
We crossed Tower Bridge and got to halfway in 1:34:55 by my watch. Okay...but a little bit slow. My preference is to be 15 seconds under at halfway, and 30 seconds under at the finish. But hey, I was well within the window, right? The halfway window was 90 seconds under to 30 seconds over, which I was within.
Heading out to Canary Wharf, we actually got a good look at the pro men coming back - Munyao, Tola, and AdvancedRunning favorites Bekele and Cairess. I don't think I've ever been that close to the pros at a major before, so that was pretty cool. If Bekele is reading this, hi, I was the weird tall guy from London. (The one with the flag.) Please continue wrecking my age grading.
Meanwhile the chaos on the course shifted from fighting through slower groups in other starts to wading through the carnage of people blowing up. I don't know if it was especially bad, but - again - it kind of hits different when you know people are following you and also you're on English roads in a world major.
As I was going, I was keeping track of the splits. I knew it was going to be close...but when I saw 3:01:16 at 25 and checked my band (which said 3:01:10 for a 3:10 bang-on), I knew things were close. For reference, pacers' flags at London actually say "Sub [pace]" because they're expected to come in up to a minute under their time. My target was 3:09:00 to 3:09:59. We could make it, but it'd take a bit of a push.
Coming around Buckingham Palace, I was checking my watch and checking the time. I thought I'd make it. And then I crossed the line and stopped my watch.
3:10:00.
Fuck.
Post-Race
But hey, some people managed to hang with me. (Shout out to Nathan on the PR!) I gave (and got) congrats, took a couple of photos, picked up my stuff, and handed in my gear. Like hundreds of other people (my god like hundreds of us), I stopped by Waterstone's, went up to the cafe, and got a tea and scone. (Very good post-race fueling, I must admit.) Got back to the hotel, showered, and went out for pints and dinner post-race with the gang and my dad.
Also, I checked my official time. 3:09:57. I made it, but just barely. It was a bit slower than I'd like, but hey - not too shabby for doing this in 1080s.

Epilogue

So Long, London
Jazmin made it through a bit off target (like 19 seconds, I think), although it was a bit of a struggle, she said.
David...had a rougher go of it. He himself was injured going into the race, so he had to take his flag down around mile 22. He still managed to finish, though.
As for me: Got home that Tuesday. Told myself that I wouldn't do this again next year as we were going through Newark passport control (aka: Satan's butthole). Changed my mind after I got back on Eastern time, went back to work, and realized what I'd missed. Ran a trail 10k (Leatherman's Loop) the week after because (again) I do not value my bodily integrity. (Also, it was an impromptu midlife crisis.)
It took me a while to gather my thoughts - and even longer to edit this down somewhat. And yes, this is actually edited a bit from where it was.
Finally, one thing I've kept coming back to is the Boston Globe article about 26.TRUE that came out around the same time as the Boston Marathon. I highly suggest you read it - I couldn't decide whether to lead or to end with this, but at any rate it's worth it.
Made with a new race report generator created by u/herumph.

(An animation shows black and white clouds parting) Charles: (Off-screen) Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Lucy was one of these angels. She was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But she was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt her way of thinking was dangerous to the perder of their world. So she watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Eve (I couldn't think of a female name that looked like Adam) and Lilian. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Eve demanded control and Lilian refused to submit to her will. He fled the garden. Drawn in by his fierce independence, Lucy found him and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Eve's new groom, Adam, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For the single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucy and her love into the dark pit she had created, never allowing her to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Lucy lost her will to dream. But Lilian thrived, empowering demon-kind with his voice and his songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. But Lilian's hope remained. And his dream was passed down to their precious son, the Prince of Hell. (The prince shuts the "Story Of Hell" book) (On-screen) Don't worry, Dad. I'll make you proud. (He holds a key) Vagner: Charles? Charles: Augh! (The key turns into a cat) Oh, shit. Did you hear all that? Vagner: Uh... Yeah, I was right there. Charles: Sorry. I get worked up after an extermination happens. This story helps. Vagner: (chuckles) I know. Don't worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay? Charles: I'm fine, just...Thinking, ya know, family stuff. Vagner: Did you hear from your dad yet? (Charles shakes his head saying no) Vagner: Oof. How long has it been now? Charles: Not that long, only...Seven...Years...Off something important, I'm sure. But this kingdom was something he really cared about. Something I care about. Vagner: Well, at least you aren't alone. Charles: I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. Vagner: It will. I have faith in you. (The cat hopes on Charles) Vagner: All right. Come on. Alice says she has something to show us. (Vagner heads to the door and Charles look out of the window and see Hell on fire and goes) (A commercial plays) Alice: Well, hello there you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do. That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucy's delusional son Charleson Morningstar! Come place your fate in his inexperienced hands as he tries to work through his mommy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun thing! Such as somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour Pest Control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! You last desperate attempt at salvation starts here. (The tv suits off) Alice: So, what'd ya' think? Vagner: I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! Charles: Uh, yeah, one note...Alice, I mean...First off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um...maybe the tone is a bit...Off? We want people to want to come here, this makes it look...ummm... Vagner: Bad. The word you're looking for is "bad". Alice: Funny, I was going for hilarious! Vagner: It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point. Charles: Vagner is right, Alice. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to help them. Alice: Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself! But YOU insisted on this noisy picture box adversiment! So I had a little fun with it. Vagner: Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it? (Stand on the sofa) Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run the hotel! Instead, you're mocking us. Nobody's going to want to come to a place that a powerful overlord like you thinks is a waste of time! (A demon on a sofa raises her hand) Vagner: What? Angela: If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here? Vagner: Angela, you're a porn star. Angela: A famous porn star. I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' these walls down to get in. Vagner: We are not filming a porn as a commercial. Angela: Why not? Sex sells, don't it? I swear if you film me goin' at it with mistress fancy talk-creepy voice here, you'd rollin' in participants willin' to stay at this tacky hotel. Alice: Haha! Never going to happen! Charles: Angela, I appreciate you wanting to use you special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but...I really don't want to exploit you, in that way! Angela: Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs. I got the lung capacity-- Oh-oh I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes... (Charles laughs uncomfortably and his phone rings with his mom calling) Angela: The small tits that make everyone think I'm a man... Charle: Uhhh, hold that thought. I'll be right back! (Walks away) Angela: I could keep goin' all night, baby. (Charles breathes and answers the phone) Charles: Hello? Mom? Angela: Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't she just make people stay here? Alice: Oh, trust me, (ominously) I can! Hisky: Why the hell do you think I'm here? (The camera goes to Hisky) Hisky: You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitches moan all the time if she wasn't forcin' me? Niffter: I like being forced! Hisky: Keep that to yourself, Niff. Angela: What, you don't like being here with me, Whiskers? Hisky: Call me "Whiskers" again and I'll that bottle down your throat. Angela: Kinky. But I like pussies. But keep talkin' dirty. Vagner: Ugh, Angela, let Hisky do her job. And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to. Angela: I'm choosing to be here, and I think is all stupid. We're in Hell, toots. It's kind of the end of the road, ain't it? Vagner: Well, maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it before doesn't mean is not possible. (Angela pust her arm in his shoulder) Angela: Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive. Charles: (excitedly) Yeah, I acn totally. Yeah, I'll head over there right away...Okay. (Turns off the phone) Hah! YES! YES!!Hahahaha!! Vagner! Holy shit! Vagner: Ahh! What?! Charles: (through closed mouth) Get over here! (Vagner sighs and goes to where Charles is) Vagner: What's going on? Charles: (Inhales) My mom just called. She said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet. She asked if I could go instead. (Breathes deeply) Vagner: But... But-- But tbe extermination just happened. What would they want this soon after... Charles: (Singing) I can do this. Somehow, I know it I'll get Heaven behind my plan! Vagner: Charles, hold on. Charles: There's just no way I could blow it. Not this once a lifetime change! Vagner: It's just a meeting. Charles: To change their minds. And touch their hearts. Or whatever angels have. Vagner: This could be bad. Charles: Cheer up, Vagner. This could be swell. Something tells that today will be a happy day in Hell! Vagner: Okay, but just don't... sing to them. Angela: That motherfucker is halfway down the street. Vagner: Is he... Angela: Oh, he's dancin'. Vagner: Ugh, no. Charles: There's a warm fuzzy feeling that wafts through the air! Every street so revealing it's hard not to stare. It's a realm so appealing it beats anywhere! If you don't mind the smell! It's a happy day in Hell! Hi, miss! Demon: Go fuck yourself! Dead Sinner #1: There's a endless trash fire that's burnig my soul! Charles: Hello! Imp: There's a lot of barbed wire to shove in her holes! Charles: Uh, excuse me... Executioner: Doing what is required we all have a role! Dead Sinner #2: I'm not doing well! Ensemble: Another shitty day in Hell! Charles: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed, that any soul can change! Vagner: Those angels minds are hard to change! Charles: Then they know that everyone can be redeemed from the evil to the strange! Vagner: They're bloodthirsty and deranged! Charles: I can hear all their stories, the lost and the displaced! And I know that they're of an acquired taste! But if I open the door and give them a place at my Hazbin Hotel it'll be a happy day in Hell! (Jumps in the back of a truck) From the porn studio where the cinephiles go to watch award winning demon bukkake shows to the Cannibal Town where they don't wear a frown 'cause...Holy shit, ew, my gosh, why?! And I don't give a crow that her brains got in my eye! Cause I know I can spare them from Heaven's genocide! I can do this... Dead Sinner #1: There's an endless trash fire... Charles: I just know it! Dead Sinner #1: That's burnig my soul! Chorus: Ah! Charles: I'll get Heaven behind my plans! There's just no way I could blow it! Demon Sinner #3: I kinda like the barbed wire that's shoved in my hole! Charles: Not this once in a lifetime chance! To change their minds! Trenchcoat Demon: And touch my parts! Charles: Oh...No, thank you. I'm just gonna...Fullfill my destiny! Trenchcoat Demon: Your loss fucker! Charles: I can already tell! Today is gonna be a fucking happy day in Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell! (Charles enters at the lobby) Charles: Hello? (echoes) Hello? Creepy...(He goes to the reception, rings the bell in the table and a paper and a feather pen appear in front of him) Oh, okay! Also creepy. (Signs the paper) (Elevator doors open, Charles goes to them and enters in a dark room) Charles: Hello? Is anyone here? (The lights turn on) Eve: 'Sup? Charles: Holy shit! (Falls in the floor and gets up) Hi, I'm Charles. My mom asked if I could meet you. Eve: Yeah, I know. Charles: Okay, well, it's nice to meet you. (Stands his hand) Eve: Totally. Nice to meet you, too. (Stands her hand) (Charles hand passes through Eve's hand) Charles: Ahh! Eve: Ha! I fucking got you! Did you fuckin' see that? (Luther shaves his head in yes) Eve: Good shit! Charles: Uh, so wait, you aren't here? Eve: No, you think I'd come down there? (Laughs) No. I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fuckin' hardcore, don't get me wrong. But, it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there's just so "eugh" ya know? (Chuckles) Ew. Charles: Right. So I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. There's a project I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about...(Eve puts her finger in his mouth) Eve: Hey, hey, hey, slow down. We got time. How about we get to know each other, mm? How about some lunch? You hungry? I got you! (Shows a plate with ribs) Here's my personal favourite. You'll love it. My husband's receipe. Charles: Uh, thanks! (His arms passes through the plate of ribs) Eve: (Laughing) I got you again, fucker! Haha fuckin' hilarious! Haha! (Back at the Hazbin Hotel, everyone is at the lobby) Vagner: Okay, so Charles is dealing with something very important, so while he's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that representants his vision and what we're doing here. So we need a camera. Alice? (Alice snaps her fingers and an old camera appears in Vagner's hand) Vagner: a video camera. Alice: Hmm? (Snaps her fingers) (A video camera appears in Vagner's hand) Vagner: All right, let's do this! (Vagner films Angela sitting at the bar) Vagner: And...Action! Hisky: "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, can I help you with anything?" Angela: "I've been a bad girl. And I need a big strong mommy to put me in my place...On the path to redemption!" Hisky: Ugh! "Well, you come..." Angela: "Oh yes!" Hisky: (boredly) "To the right place!" Vagner: Cut! Okay, Angela, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Hisky, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face? Hisky: (Angrily) I ain't no actress, I can't memorize this shit! Angela: Well, we could improve this shit, baby cakes! (Purrs seductively and Hisky push her out of the counter) Ahh! Hisky: Whoops. (Drink a bottle) Vagner: Hisky, come on! (Meanwhile, Charles is bored) Eve: So I was playing this gig, and for some fucking reason this virtue boy was digging on the drummer, and it's like, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Eve. I'm the original pussy! All pussies descend from me. You think you drummer pussy? No way, I'm the Pussy-fucking master! (Eats sloppily) So anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend? Charles: Wait, your name is Eve? Like the first woman? That means you...Ohhh...(Enlightened) That explains so much. Eve: I know. I fucking rock. Charles: Well, Eve, ma'am. Mrs. Eve, ma'am. Eve: Call me Pussymaster. Charles: Eve, you seem like a smart...well, stand up girl. Eve: (With the finger in her teeth) Uh-huh. Charles: And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a bigger, a revolutionary, a...A genius! Eve: I maen, yout words, babe. Charles: Who would really her name on something. Eve: Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best! Charles: It's a solution to our biggest problem! Eve: Oh, herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch. Charles: No! Our other biggest problem. Eve: Oh, uh...Ugly people? (Looks the camera) Math? Global warming? Nah, wait that's Earth's problem. Umm... (At the hotel, a bug walks in the floor and a needle tries to stab it) Niffter: Hehehe. Stab. Stab. Stab. Vagner: Alright Niffter. Niffter? Niffter! (Stops him) Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms". Okay? Niffter: Got it. I'm ready. Vagner: (Turns on the camera) Action! (Niffter looks at the camera with his pupil constricted and Angela and Vagner look at him confused) Vagner: Uhh...Cut. (Turns off the camera) (Niffter smiles again) Niffter: (Giggles) How was that? Vagner: Well, Niffter, you actually have to say the line. So let's roll again. Niffter: Okay! Vagner: Action. (Niffter stares deeply at the camera) Angela: You're doing great, Vaginer! Vagner: Cut! Alright, um, maybe wr can try to fix it in the post. Angela: Do you even know what that means? Vagner: (Angrily) I'll figure it out! (In lobby, Vagner is watching the video with the camera connected to the tv) Hisky: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. (Vagner groans, covers his eyes and Alice appears in his side) Alice: Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm? Vagner: Ugh, esta pendeja...Why are you even here? Alice: For the entertainment! I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly. Like you are doing now! Good job! Vagner: (Turns on the camera) And here is Alastor, the egocentric piece pf shit that... (Alice gets static on the camera and it starts to spark and Vagner screams and knocks the camera down) Alice: I wouldn't try that, my darling. (Sinisterly) This face was made for radio. Vagner: (Gets angry) That's it! I don't care who or what you are! If you are staying here you are going to make this work! Beause it won't be so "entertaining" to watch an empty hotel will it, shitass?! (Turns around and walks away) Alice: Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal. Vagner: Pft! You think I'm that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you. Alice: Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again. Or...Charles can come back to absolutely nothing! Your choice. Vagner: (Sighs) Fine. (Gets the video camera and raises in Alice's hand and green ghosted skulls fly around it) Alice: Now then! (Makes the camera disappear and snaps her fingers) (Angela, Hisky and Niffter, a lot of filming materials and a ghost recording team appear in the lobby and everyone gets tailor clothes) Vagner: Alright, everyone! Let's make a fucking commercial. (Meanwhile) Eve:...When you take him out for the fifth time and he still expects you to pay the check, but you're like, (In deep voice) "Hey I thought you wanted equality"! Charles: (Frustrated) No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell! Eve: (Normal) Ohh! Well, that's not a problem! We got that covered! Luther, how many demons did you kill this year? Luther: Got a good 275 this year, ma'am. Eve: 275? Whoa, badass! Awesome job, danger dick! Pound it. (Punch fists with Lute) Charles: Uh, no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that, right? Eve: Ohhh, yeah...That must suck for you. Pft...Hahahaha! Charles: But these are souls. Human souls, just the same as the ones you have in Heaven. Luther: They're not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation. Charles: You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes. Luther: Angels don't make mistakes. Charles: You really think that? Luther: I know that. Eve: Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fucking life. Luther: The only reason you're still here is because Mommy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter. (Charles shrinks back) Eve: Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it... Charles: Oh! Fuck!...(Get up from the chair) Okay. I've a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't really hearing before, so here goes. (Clears throat) (Singing) I know Hell's population is out of control. It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll. If we rehabe these sinners and cleanse all their souls at my Hazbin Hotel! (Normal) Wait I'm getting ahead of myself! Right! Extermination! (Singing) I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year. And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here. If they join you in Heaven that trip disappears! You can wave that chore farewell! (Deep breath) It'll be a happy day in... Eve: (Singing) Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time! Charles: (Normal) Okay? Eve: If what you're suggesting is letting them climb! Up the ladder. Oh they rather cross the Pearly Gates! Sorry, sweetie, but there's no defying in their fates! 'Cause Hell is forever wheter you like it or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot! 'Cause the rules are black and white there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again! Charles: Okay, but... Eve: Just try to chillax, babe, you're wasting your breath! Charles: (Nervously) Hehe... Eve: Did I hear you imply that they deserve death? Are they winners? Are they sinners? 'Cause it's cut and dry! Charles: Actually, if you take a look... Eve: Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! And when all's said and done! (Said and done) There's the question of fun! (Fun) And for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment! (Imitates guitar) Guitar solo, fuck yeah! (Imitates guitar) Hell is forever wheter you like or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot! Charles: Where all this people come from? Eve: 'Cause the rules are black and white, there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again! (materializes a guitar and play it) Fucking Hell is forever and it's meant to suck a lot! So give up your dumb endeavor 'cause you don't have a shot! (Charles groans, his paper gets on fire and his hair moves in the air and horns appear in his head) Eve: Long as I've got your attention, I guess In should probably mention that we made a determination (Shows a contract) To move up the next extermination! Charles: Can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts! (Hold Charles' wrist) I know is just been a week, but we'll be back in six months! (Spins Charles out of the room and plays her guitar) Charles: Um, wait, didn't you...(Goes at the door, but it closes) Awh, shit! (Punches the door) (Charles returns sad to the Hazbin Hotel) Vagner: Charles! (Hugs him) How did it go? Did they listen? Charles: Oh, uh...They sure did...hear it! But, um... Vagner: Oh! Come here. We have something exciting to show you! (Holds Charles to the living room) Alice pulled some strings, and it's about to air. Alice: I pulled a few limbs too! Hahaha! Charles: Wait? The commercial? You all made a new one? Angela: Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do can say so myself. Charles: That's...That's amazing. Angela: Shh! It's starting! Vagner: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hot... (The TV changes to the 666 News channel and everyone complains) Kallie: (On TV) Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before! Do you know what that means, Tomita? Tomita: No. What does that means, Kallie? Kallie: It means we are all royally fucked! (The clock in an hourglass changes to 176 with everyone screaming) Angela: Wait...What? Why?! (A drone laser scans a headless body of an angel laying in Hell and Eve and Luther see then from the ship) Luther: We found the body, ma'am. They've never managed to kill one of us before. We should just go down there now and destroy them! Eve: No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left to pull a stunt like this again. (Breaks the projector and her eyes and mouth glow in the dark) (The end credits start playing)
Sorry, Vivziepop, I had to

What Im passionate about:
drawing (semi realism/ abstraction) painting character design hand crafting designing (creating things) writing (poems/ stories/ screenplay) human psychology reading (philosophy) indie game design decorating sketching (anything)
Strengths:
attention to detail good at sketching natural skill when it comes to most art related things a lot of fantasy/ creative can be persuading doesn't give up easily likes giving good advice
Weaknesses:
unfocused/ gets lost easily can be slow with math unorganized bad at memorizing things stubborn/ will only do things my own way problems with procasination runs out of energy quickly when it comes to social interactions hates small talk
Career and lifestyle goals:
How much money is enough?
Enough to keep a family living a standard life without stressing out about money I guess? (I can be really good at saving up) Some guy said $70 000 a year is great so lets go with that (this kind of thing is different for each country though) Its better not to focus too much on money for now.
What type of jobs do you like?
Any job that involves creating things, it makes my existence feel meaningful. (Thats why I've been thinking of architecture for a long time. Buildings last centuries.)
Do you want a leadership position?
I wouldnt mind leading others but I dont really care about that. I would just prefer not to be one of those workers who have to do what someone else says all the time. I want to use my own creativity. Id like working with a group of equals or alone. I like working alone.
Do you want to eventually become an entrepreneur?
That idea doesnt seem so bad, in a way I like it, but it would probably be wayyy too tiring for me. I just want to create things and live a calm life. Constantly networking and thinking about business would be too overwhelming for me. But the idea of becoming an entrepreneur eventually might grow on me with time since it gives off a feeling of independence and like every day will be different, which I really care about. I just know that if I were to open a buisness Id invest all of my time and thought in it which wouldnt be ideal if i also want to live calmly and take care of my family.
As of right now, I've only had Architecture in mind. Although it has many issues, I cant think of anything else. What careers would you guys recommend? (Im 16F)

What Im passionate about:
drawing (semi realism/ abstraction) painting character design hand crafting designing (creating things) writing (poems/ stories/ screenplay) human psychology reading (philosophy) indie game design decorating sketching (anything)
Strengths:
attention to detail good at sketching natural skill when it comes to most art related things a lot of fantasy/ creative can be persuading doesn't give up easily likes giving good advice
Weaknesses:
unfocused/ gets lost easily can be slow with math unorganized bad at memorizing things stubborn/ will only do things my own way problems with procasination runs out of energy quickly when it comes to social interactions hates small talk
Career and lifestyle goals:
How much money is enough?
Enough to keep a family living a standard life without stressing out about money I guess? (I can be really good at saving up) Some guy said $70 000 a year is great so lets go with that (this kind of thing is different for each country though) Its better not to focus too much on money for now.
What type of jobs do you like?
Any job that involves creating things, it makes my existence feel meaningful. (Thats why I've been thinking of architecture for a long time. Buildings last centuries.)
Do you want a leadership position?
I wouldnt mind leading others but I dont really care about that. I would just prefer not to be one of those workers who have to do what someone else says all the time. I want to use my own creativity. Id like working with a group of equals or alone. I like working alone.
Do you want to eventually become an entrepreneur?
That idea doesnt seem so bad, in a way I like it, but it would probably be wayyy too tiring for me. I just want to create things and live a calm life. Constantly networking and thinking about business would be too overwhelming for me. But the idea of becoming an entrepreneur eventually might grow on me with time since it gives off a feeling of independence and like every day will be different, which I really care about. I just know that if I were to open a buisness Id invest all of my time and thought in it which wouldnt be ideal if i also want to live calmly and take care of my family.
As of right now, I've only had Architecture in mind. Although it has many issues, I cant think of anything else. What careers would you guys recommend? (Im 16F)

What Im passionate about:
drawing (semi realism/ abstraction) painting character design hand crafting designing (creating things) writing (poems/ stories/ screenplay) human psychology reading (philosophy) indie game design decorating sketching (anything)
Strengths:
attention to detail good at sketching natural skill when it comes to most art related things a lot of fantasy/ creative can be persuading doesn't give up easily likes giving good advice
Weaknesses:
unfocused/ gets lost easily can be slow with math unorganized bad at memorizing things stubborn/ will only do things my own way problems with procasination runs out of energy quickly when it comes to social interactions hates small talk
Career and lifestyle goals:
How much money is enough?
Enough to keep a family living a standard life without stressing out about money I guess? (I can be really good at saving up) Some guy said $70 000 a year is great so lets go with that (this kind of thing is different for each country though) Its better not to focus too much on money for now.
What type of jobs do you like?
Any job that involves creating things, it makes my existence feel meaningful. (Thats why I've been thinking of architecture for a long time. Buildings last centuries.)
Do you want a leadership position?
I wouldnt mind leading others but I dont really care about that. I would just prefer not to be one of those workers who have to do what someone else says all the time. I want to use my own creativity. Id like working with a group of equals or alone. I like working alone.
Do you want to eventually become an entrepreneur?
That idea doesnt seem so bad, in a way I like it, but it would probably be wayyy too tiring for me. I just want to create things and live a calm life. Constantly networking and thinking about business would be too overwhelming for me. But the idea of becoming an entrepreneur eventually might grow on me with time since it gives off a feeling of independence and like every day will be different, which I really care about. I just know that if I were to open a buisness Id invest all of my time and thought in it which wouldnt be ideal if i also want to live calmly and take care of my family.
As of right now, I've only had Architecture in mind. Although it has many issues, I cant think of anything else. What careers would you guys recommend? (Im 16F)

What Im passionate about:
drawing (semi realism/ abstraction) painting character design hand crafting designing (creating things) writing (poems/ stories/ screenplay) human psychology reading (philosophy) indie game design decorating sketching (anything)
Strengths:
attention to detail good at sketching natural skill when it comes to most art related things a lot of fantasy/ creative can be persuading doesn't give up easily likes giving good advice
Weaknesses:
unfocused/ gets lost easily can be slow with math unorganized bad at memorizing things stubborn/ will only do things my own way problems with procasination runs out of energy quickly when it comes to social interactions hates small talk
Career and lifestyle goals:
How much money is enough?
Enough to keep a family living a standard life without stressing out about money I guess? (I can be really good at saving up) Some guy said $70 000 a year is great so lets go with that (this kind of thing is different for each country though) Its better not to focus too much on money for now.
What type of jobs do you like?
Any job that involves creating things, it makes my existence feel meaningful. (Thats why I've been thinking of architecture for a long time. Buildings last centuries.)
Do you want a leadership position?
I wouldnt mind leading others but I dont really care about that. I would just prefer not to be one of those workers who have to do what someone else says all the time. I want to use my own creativity. Id like working with a group of equals or alone. I like working alone.
Do you want to eventually become an entrepreneur?
That idea doesnt seem so bad, in a way I like it, but it would probably be wayyy too tiring for me. I just want to create things and live a calm life. Constantly networking and thinking about business would be too overwhelming for me. But the idea of becoming an entrepreneur eventually might grow on me with time since it gives off a feeling of independence and like every day will be different, which I really care about. I just know that if I were to open a buisness Id invest all of my time and thought in it which wouldnt be ideal if i also want to live calmly and take care of my family.
As of right now, I've only had Architecture in mind. Although it has many issues, I cant think of anything else. What careers would you guys recommend? (Im 16F)

What Im passionate about:
drawing (semi realism/ abstraction) painting character design hand crafting designing (creating things) writing (poems/ stories/ screenplay) human psychology reading (philosophy) indie game design decorating sketching (anything)
Strengths:
attention to detail good at sketching natural skill when it comes to most art related things a lot of fantasy/ creative can be persuading doesn't give up easily likes giving good advice
Weaknesses:
unfocused/ gets lost easily can be slow with math unorganized bad at memorizing things stubborn/ will only do things my own way problems with procasination runs out of energy quickly when it comes to social interactions hates small talk
Career and lifestyle goals:
How much money is enough?
Enough to keep a family living a standard life without stressing out about money I guess? (I can be really good at saving up) Some guy said $70 000 a year is great so lets go with that (this kind of thing is different for each country though) Its better not to focus too much on money for now.
What type of jobs do you like?
Any job that involves creating things, it makes my existence feel meaningful. (Thats why I've been thinking of architecture for a long time. Buildings last centuries.)
Do you want a leadership position?
I wouldnt mind leading others but I dont really care about that. I would just prefer not to be one of those workers who have to do what someone else says all the time. I want to use my own creativity. Id like working with a group of equals or alone. I like working alone.
Do you want to eventually become an entrepreneur?
That idea doesnt seem so bad, in a way I like it, but it would probably be wayyy too tiring for me. I just want to create things and live a calm life. Constantly networking and thinking about business would be too overwhelming for me. But the idea of becoming an entrepreneur eventually might grow on me with time since it gives off a feeling of independence and like every day will be different, which I really care about. I just know that if I were to open a buisness Id invest all of my time and thought in it which wouldnt be ideal if i also want to live calmly and take care of my family.
As of right now, I've only had Architecture in mind. Although it has many issues, I cant think of anything else. What careers would you guys recommend? (Im 16F)

Hi guys , so i want to apply for DSA to NJC via TLL or Science research , i need some help
Ok so some context : i take Math , Comb Sci ( phys , chem ) , Pure Lit , Elect Hist , Tl and Eng . Im not the brightest student when it comes to humans and languages ( except tl) , i got a D7 in the last WA . but i got super high A1s for Math , Sci and Tl . so i decided on focusing on my main strong points : Sci and Tl for which i have entered competitions . So is grades on Prev exams rlly a factor or a turning point for DSA? , coz its only WA. I have alot of thing to show for when it comes to TLL and Sci ResearcH
For Sci research : I have entered Phys and chem olympiad , ntg much , oni participation . entered Sci buskers ( innovation competition) , made 3 research papers about neutrinos , polynomers and neutron decay. not only that but i do plan on going on a 1 month internship to a research related job , so is this enough to stand a chance ? ik many have shit ton of accolades but idk .
For TLL : I have entered two competitions : Tamil Oratical competiton and Comic writing competition , my grades for TL is always an A1 , i have done a book reports , poems . etc . not only that but i plan on going on an internship to a newspaper company to be a intern tl media assitant . i do hope that this good coz i heard TLL is not very competitve thus for my option , im okay wif doing h2 TL
So can someone PLEASE HELP ME , I NEED ANSWERS ASAP