Hello, here goes my first post on reddit! We adopted a super affectionate male cat, Sky - he’s an Egyptian Mau mix who is a year and 2 months old. He was a stray rescue who was rescued by his foster mum and has lived as an indoor cat with her and 5 or so other cats for the past year. He was free fed on kibble and whiskers. We adopted him on 11th April 2024 and stuck to this feeding, and within the first week began adding raw food to his wet food. Since he didn't like different types of foods mixed even his kibble, I did the raw separately and he took to it straight away. At the moment, he’s fully on raw (Bella&Duke) and half a can of Lily's at nighttime for the past 3 weeks.
I'm fully aware that I made a mistake and I didn't transition slowly enough so please note that I know I messed up - I'm kindly just looking for advice from where to go from here to avoid further issues.
Even though he loves eating raw, he started going a bit crazy with carb withdrawals and constantly wanting our food. So we had to shut kitchen and living room doors when we cook and eat which means a lot of meowing started. I try my best to ignore the meows and only give him attention when he’s been good, but in sometimes telling him “no” or shutting him out, or him not getting our food etc I’ve noticed him going into hyper tantrums / zoomies, especially at night. This happens even after he’s had dinner. It could just be normal zoomies but I do feel he does it as a attention tactic maybe.
To help calm his food anxiety which seems to be alot, I’ve been feeding him small amounts regularly: 4 times a day for the past 2 or so weeks now - 7am - 1pm - 7pm and half a can/raw snack around 11pm - midnight before bed. He is also eating a bit more than he should to try and help him feel fuller from the lack of carbs but none of this has see, to really help much. It did calm him down a bit but recently he’s been acting up again. He's being clicker trained, has treat toys, sometimes raw treats (hearts etc) and we play with him 3/4 times a day but he still doesn't seem fully satisfied; acting hungry, pawing at our food bin, running to the kitchen 90% time we go in there, reacting to any wrapper sound, going for our food no matter what we try to do etc. We’ve tried no and removing him, which kinda works but often doesn’t.
So what do we do? I don’t want to go back to kibble and I can’t free feed raw, but I also don’t want this food behaviour to worsen or for him to be stressed settling into our new home etc. I know he's a rescue so he might have food seeking or scarcity mentality and that I made a mistake in the sudden diet / routine shift, but is there any advice on how it would be best to go forward?

Do you remember Microsoft 3D Movie Maker? A free demo of it came with Windows 95. If you really liked it, you could buy the full version on CD-ROM. Basically, you could make your own 3D movies using preset actors, props, and scenes. You could even add your own dialogue & sound effects using the computer's mic. It was such a hit that it developed its own cult fanbase.
A little-known fact is that if you go to the intro page of the talent book and type in “socrates,” you'll find a live-action featurette on the making of 3D Movie Maker, originally known as “Project Socrates" to the developers. It's a pretty fun watch, and I highly recommend it!
What I do not recommend, however, is “Project Caligula.”
I am (very begrudgingly) going to explain the process by which you can access Project Caligula. To start, you must make a movie, choosing Misty City as the scene, and the small café as the camera angle. As a prop, select the sphere, color it red, flatten it all the way, and put it under the left most table. As actors, select S'kelly and Augustin. Change Augustin's outfit to the tuxedo and put him in front of the café door, between the tables. Place S'kelly horizontally at his feet. You can do this using the adjustment tools in the part of the toolbar that is initially covered up.
Next, change the music to “Geist Evil Theme.” Select the Sound effect “Laugh Maniac" and place it on Augustin. Finally, make his action “At Rest" and have him stay like that for EXACTLY 17 frames.
Conclude by clicking “New Movie.” A prompt will ask you if you want to save your movie. Do so and save it as “caligula” (all lower case, no quotes). When the screen comes up, go to “Open Movie" and select caligula. Unlike other movies, whose preview pics are the first frame of the film, the screenshot will be a 3D graphic of the phrase “Welcome To Hell" in the font Bloody (which is not available in the original edition of the game) in front of a black background.
When you open the movie, instead of the preview pic, you will see a blood red background. Again, this is the first of many things you'll see that are not presets of the game. Clicking play will play 21 frames of the screen with an off-key version of Lacrimosa by Mozart playing on piano in the background. The screen will then spiral wipe to the actor Bongo in front of the black background for 13 frames. Then, his skin appears to melt off quite graphically, followed by subsequent layers of muscle, tissue and even organs, until it reaches the skeleton. This skeleton, unlike the default S'kelly, looks eerily... well…
…like it belongs to Bongo.
The shape, lines, and even proportions, are fitted to Bongo's unique build. The music gradually fades, replaced with a crescendo of tortured screams. The skeleton then opens its mouth and says one of the preset lines:
“Those bullies won't bother me now!”
While this IS a line attributed to Bongo, the line is distorted to sound deep and very demonic.
The final thing you see is a text in front of one of the basic backgrounds from the Nickelodeon edition of 3D Movie Maker. The front is hard to read, not only because the color almost completely blends in with the background, but also because it's in a strange font. When translated, it reads:
“Let all those who see this film beware! For whosoever seeks to make it their own shall suffer a fate worse than death.”
I had heard about a member of the 3DMM community who did try to modify the movie, so I found out where he lived to ask him about it. When I got there, the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed for days, and there was several days worth of mail & papers present. I knocked on the door, but no one answered.
I looked in a nearby window and saw that most of the house was covered in blood, urine, feces, and various entrails. I opened the door only to have the severed torso of the person I was seeking fall towards me. His skin was gone, as were his legs & hips, he was covered in blood, and I thought he was dead.
Until he grabbed my ankle and gasped:
“Why… why won't he let me die?”
“Who,” I asked.
“E… Edgar…”
I called 911 immediately. The doctors made a startling discovery when they examined him: A piece of his brain was missing. According to some psychologists, this part of the brain…
…alerts the body when it dies.
As to the identity of Edgar, according to my research, he was apparently a programmer for Microsoft working on Project Socrates. He was fired for making horrifically graphic movies and later committed suicide. His suicide note read:
“You'll regret this."
I know I did...

This is my last Depeche Mode ranking, so I'm going to thanks and say goodbye to all of you who liked these lists. See you, space cowboys!

1. Now This Is Fun

Ironic, since to me it wasn't that fun. Too fragmented and I don't like the uncoordinated sound and voice. Said this, I have to admit that even for being the tenth worst Depeche song for me, it isn't that bad.

1. Lovetheme

I know that putting an instrumental here is unfair, but I make the rules here. To be honest, this instrumental might be very relaxing in a good moment, but most of the time it's a boring interlude. They managed to do better instrumentals, but there's even a worse one, just continue to read…

1. What's Your Name Often considered one of their worst songs ever, this gay anthem (no offense, read the lyrics) is at best a guilty pleasure, at the worst a terribly poppy song. It's not the worst just because it's pretty energetic.
   
2. Slowblow
   

And this is the worst one. Apart from the name that seems like a dirty nickname, the song IS slow, so this is pretty much a pain since it comes after a lot of other instrumentals. By the way, the songs listed here still aren't that bad or outrageous, but from the next position there are songs that I almost can't stand.

1. Black Day

Ugh. This song actually exist? Why? It's short, repetitive, and it barely has any meaning. Some of Depeche Mode's worst tracks at least have the excuse of being an experiment, but this doesn't. At least it's short.

1. The Child Inside

This tune is like a “what if Depeche Mode didn't like instruments”. As you can imagine, this song barely has any melody, and that makes the song very boring. Still better than making the melody something insufferable, like the next positions.

1. Told You So

This might be a very controversial opinion, since I often see it being called one of the best, but, for me, it's a big mess. Every, dammit, sound, is trying to overcome the other. I don't want beef with anyone, but really, I don't like this.

1. I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead

An early and worse version of Told You So. As I already said, the name is deceitful, and the melody is straight out from a low quality party song.

1. My Little Universe

I have to admit, that even if everything about the song is unsatisfying, from the verses to the chorus, from the intro to the build-up, the lyrics are very neat. That's the only saving quality that doesn't put it in the first position, other than being shorter than the actual worst.

1. Pipeline

You either love or hate this one, and you can easily guess what I think about it. An experiment? I get it, but why is it so long and boring? This track desperately drags on for the length of six, damned minutes, making this one of the longest in their catalogue. And their worst.

1. Cover Me

Spirit is very hated, but rarely I've seen this song being insulted; if you listen to it, you can imagine why. A country-rock ballad, tender and haunting enough to make me emotional.

1. Here Is The House

If there's a Depeche Mode song that screams 80s loudly, that's it. Danceable, catchy and funky. And one of the few that isn't depressing.

1. Mercy In You

I don't know what to say about this one, apart from being the most tripping and raw Depeche Mode song ever.

1. Suffer Well

Usually debuts are pretty much experiments to becoming better, but the best track that Dave has written is his first one. This track isn't only great, but also hits me at home.

1. Home

Martin’s marriage life wasn't very easy during the SOFAD and Ultra era, also because of his alcohol addiction, and this song is probably one of the most intimate depictions of the feeling of fault and desperation. And don't forget the strings, those, WONDERFUL, strings.

1. Peace

Powerful vocals and majestic sound, this song doesn't get enough recognition. Martin considers it his best tune by lyrics, and I gotta say that it is one of his best works. The live version is something incredible.

1. Ghosts Again

We can call this character development: how the sound has changed, the writing improved and the voice trained. It's a long journey, and this might be the testament of the greatness of Depeche Mode; however, that's not the end.

1. Enjoy The Silence

I think that there's not a better way to start the top 3 if not with the hit that made Depeche Mode famous in the world. Their most cohesive work, sums up everything that made them what they are.

1. Precious

If Home was the “I can't be helped” of Martin, this is the “I'm sorry, my kids”. This, from the first note to the last, is a roller coaster of bitter and sweet emotions.

1. Walking In My Shoes

And that's the best. It's not emotional like Precious, but this is the song that I listen to when I’m on the ground. The piano, the guitar, the voice, and the lyrics, are marvelous at least. Not only Martin’s, but also my favorite. My favourite song, ever.

My Dearest u/DernhelmLaughed,
Screw you for overusing the "Gwilty" pun last week, when this week could have offered me such amazing opportunities as "Catholic Gwilt" and "We find the defendant Gwilty." I shall have to find other ways to entertain my audience.
Yours sincerely,
u/Amanda39
(Note to everyone else: My apologies that this recap is late and not up to my usual standards. I foolishly forgot about Mother's Day and, just when I was going to sit down to compose the summary, realized that I would have to spend the next few hours at my sister's house, with her barking labradoodle and screaming children. Afterwards, I needed to spend at least an hour playing Beethoven to calm my nerves.)
Book the Third, Chapter 14: Miss Gwilt's Diary.
A lot happened this week, so let's rewind all the way back to when Lydia and Allan were on the train together. Lydia bribed the conductor make sure they were alone in the carriage, thus encouraging rumors about the two of them. Allan spends the trip awkwardly trying to not tell her that he's going to London to find out how he could marry Neelie, and Lydia invites him to come with her to see Ozias, in the hope of reconciling the two of them, which of course Allan is eager to do.
The next day, Lydia pawns her watch and visits a lawyer who informs her that there's no legal reason why she can't marry under her maiden name, although her husband could invalidate the marriage later if he found out. She also gives Ozias a made-up story about her past ("A dead father; a lost fortune; vagabond brothers, whom I dread ever seeing again; a bedridden mother dependent on my exertions...") but hates herself for it because she's honestly in love with him. Ozias, meanwhile, reveals that he's gotten a job as a foreign correspondent for a newspaper, and that the two of them will be moving to Naples once they get married. Lydia also agrees to let Ozias tell Allan about their plans to marry, so that it will be easier for her to learn if how the Major reacted to her anonymous letter about Allan and Neelie.
The Major, we learn, has agreed to their engagement, provided that Allan and Neelie remain separated and do not communicate for the next six months, during which Neelie will attend school, and then remain engaged for an additional six months before marrying. This, of course, gives Lydia's plan more than enough time to occur. Ozias suggests that Allan occupy the six months by visiting Mr. Brock and then sailing to Naples.
Lydia decides to amuse herself by annoying Mother Oldershaw, but ends up discovering that Oldershaw and Dr. Downward are in hiding for legal reasons. She also starts seeing spies everywhere, which I was hoping meant that she was descending into paranoia or something, but no, it's just Bashwood's son's employees spying on her. She doesn't know this, of course, and thinks Mother Oldershaw is after her. To throw them off, she switches locations and tells Ozias she's visiting her mother. She's also so convinced that her milliner is spying on her, she decides to not go back to pick up the finished dress. (I thought milliners made hats, not dresses?) This results in the milliner having the dress delivered to her new location, despite Lydia not having told the location to the milliner. Okay, yeah, that's kind of suspicious.
But Lydia is more than just distracted by spies. She's also tormented by her love for Ozias, and tells her diary that she isn't going to go through with her plans after all.
A surprising complication occurs: Mr. Brock dies. Ozias and Allan go to the funeral, with Ozias and Lydia planning to marry the next day. Lydia bribes a servant to have her lover, a soldier, distract the spy who's following her.
After the funeral, Ozias shows Lydia a letter that Brock had written to him just before he died. Brock begs Ozias to give up his superstitions and reconcile with Allan, arguing that, rather than being Allan's doom, Ozias may someday save Allan. This terrifies Lydia, who now believes that "if that old man’s last earthly conviction is prophetic of the truth, Armadale will escape me, do what I may. And Midwinter will be the victim who is sacrificed to save his life."
The chapter ends with Lydia and Ozias marrying.
Book the Third, Chapter 15: The Wedding-Day.
Okay, enough of Lydia Gwilt's diary. Time to revisit everyone's favorite delusional horny old man. Bashwood Sr. meets with Bashwood Jr. (who I'm going to call "Jemmy" because it's easier to type) and learns Lydia Gwilt's dark secrets.
But first, we get a description of how Bashwood desperately needs to be arrested by the fashion police. And then Jemmy insists on getting paid. And then on eating breakfast. Congratulations, Jemmy, you're even more annoying than your father. Anyhow, we finally get Lydia's entire life story out of Jemmy:
Lydia spent the first eight years of her life being raised by a baby farmer. For those of you who have participated in previous Victorian Lady Detective Squad books, I would like to state for the record that none of us knew in advance that a freaking baby farmer would show up in this one. If I had a nickel for every book I've run here where I put a link to the Wikipedia article on baby farming in the summary, I'd have ten cents, which isn't enough to pay someone to raise a kid for me but it's weird that it happened twice. Anyhow, her parents stopped paying for her, so the baby farmer sold her to a quack doctor named Oldershaw. Gee, why does that name sound familiar?
The Oldershaws use Lydia to demonstrate their hair care products. One day, while they're displaying their wares in Thorpe Ambrose, Miss Blanchard (Allan's mom) sees Lydia and takes an interest in her, which results in the Oldershaws abandoning Lydia with her. This is how she ended up becoming Miss Blanchard's maid. Of course, once everything happened in Madeira, the Blanchards had to keep Lydia from causing scandal by revealing everything that had happened. They sent Lydia to school in France, offering to support her until she married, in exchange for her never returning to England.
At 17, Lydia gets kicked out of school because a married teacher fell in love with her and tried to kill himself. This wasn't Lydia's fault, but they kicked her out anyway. Holy shit. Anyhow, the trauma caused Lydia to find God and try to become a nun. (Alright, I'll go ahead and make the obvious joke: is this what they mean by Catholic Gwilt?) But she changed her mind after two years, and which point Miss Blanchard cut contact with her.
Lydia becomes a piano player to support herself, and ends up meeting a baroness who's a card sharp. Wilkie, why are you giving us this through Jemmy? I would read an entire-ass book about Lydia's life story. You can't just go "oh yeah, she's a failed nun who travelled across Europe with a card sharp" and not actually tell that story. WTF. Anyhow, a man named Waldron threatens to expose them to the police, but (like every other man in this story) he falls for Lydia, so Lydia convinces him to marry her instead.
The two move back to England, where Waldron turns out to be an abusive asshole and Lydia falls in love with a Cuban captain named Manuel. One day, shortly after Waldron hit Lydia in the face with a riding whip, Waldron mysteriously falls ill and dies, and Lydia is put on trial for poisoning him. Lydia admits in court that she and Manuel were planning to run away together, but claims that she didn't poison her husband.
Waldron had initially left a large amount of money to Lydia in his will but, shortly before his death, wrote a new will drastically decreasing the amount. This casts suspicion on Manuel, who may only have known of the earlier will. Still, the court decides that Lydia had too much of a motive for killing her husband, and she's found Gwilty and sentenced to death. Of course, she gets pardoned after a public outcry, because she's too hot to die. But then she's immediately found guilty of theft, after it's discovered that she'd stolen her dead husband's jewels and hidden them in her corset. So she ends up serving two years in prison for that.
None of this has changed Bashwood's mind about her, and he wants to tell Allan ASAP, in the hope that Allan won't marry her after all and then he'll stand a chance. Jemmy's a fan of this plan, thinking he can get money from Allan, too. On the way to the hotel, Jemmy finishes the story: After getting out of prison, Lydia married Manuel. The marriage isn't legally valid, however, because it turned out that Manuel is already legally married to another woman. That didn't stop Manuel from taking Lydia's money and running off to another country with it. Oh, and Lydia reunited with Mrs. Oldershaw after she got out of prison, because they chop your hair off in prison and she needed a makeover.
It's too late. The Bashwoods cannot find Allan or Lydia, and they find the names "Allan Armadale" and "Lydia Gwilt" in the church's wedding register. Bashwood collapses in shock, and Jemmy once againd deserts his father.
Book the Fourth, Chapter 1: Miss Gwilt's Diary.
It's two months later, and the honeymoon has worn off. Ozias is depressed and throws himself into his work. Lydia feels abandoned. Out of boredom, she rereads her diary from when she was plotting to murder Allan, because who doesn't get nostalgic for premediated murder when they're bored? Speaking of Allan, he's on his way to visit them, but he got delayed when his failboat crashed off the coast of Portugal.
Allan finally arrives. He annoys the hell out of Lydia by constantly talking about yachts and Neelie. Yes, he talks to Lydia about Neelie. I think he's forgotten who Lydia is or something, I dunno. Lydia is as weirded out by this as I am. Oh yeah, Allan bought a new yacht. He may have trouble finding a crew that can speak English in Naples, though.
Lydia finds that Ozias has fallen asleep with both Brock's letter and Allan's dream in his hands. He's clearly still tormented by his superstition.
Book the Fourth, Chapter 2: The Diary Continued.
Lydia, Ozias, and Allan go to the opera, to see Bellini's Norma). Lydia gets a shock when she realizes that one of the chorus singers is Manuel. I was desperately hoping that she really was being paranoid this time, but no, it really freaking is Manuel. Look, I can deal with the "England only has twelve people in it" thing that happens in this type of book, but this is going too far. Why the hell would a Cuban captain running away from his English wife end up in Naples as an opera singer?
Later that night, Allan mentions Neelie one too many times, and Lydia blows up at him. Honestly, I'm with Lydia on this. I would have blown up, too, and I wasn't even plotting to marry him. She also says something to him that she doesn't write in her diary, which made me say "How dare she write like it's an actual diary, and not an epistolary narrative in a book?" Then she actually replied with "Why do I keep a diary at all? Why did the clever thief the other day (in the English newspaper) keep the very thing to convict him in the shape of a record of everything he stole? Why are we not perfectly reasonable in all that we do? Why am I not always on my guard and never inconsistent with myself, like a wicked character in a novel? Why? why? why?" and that's when I realized that I was arguing with a fictional character.
Later that night, Ozias talks to Lydia. He looks so sick, it makes Lydia worry about "what I had done—or, no, of what I had tried to do—in that interval between half-past ten and half-past eleven, which I have left unnoticed in my diary" because Lydia is apparently really embracing this whole "unreliable narrator" thing. Ozias tells her that he wants Allan to go back to England without the two of them. When she asks why, he explains:
The previous night, Allan didn't like the wine they were drinking, so Lydia offered to make lemonade for him. Lydia gave the lemonade to Ozias, who gave the lemonade to Allan, who collapsed because it contained brandy... although Lydia is very quick at this point to assume that Ozias is accusing her of poisoning Allan. (She also comes right out and tells her diary that she added the brandy "to disguise the taste of—never mind what!") Anyhow, this means that Ozias and Lydia accidentally acted out part of Allan's dream, so now Ozias is afraid to sail with him.
The next day, Lydia meets with Manuel, who tries to blackmail her. Lydia's like "I have a better idea. I know a rich idiot who carries all his money on him, and who needs an interpreter for his yacht. What if you worked for him, stole his money, and then, I dunno, threw him overboard or something?" Manuel asks what Lydia's interest in this is, which surprises Lydia, because she apparently forgot that she wanted Allan dead, and was just trying to keep Manuel and Ozias apart? "Thus far the sole object I had kept in view was to protect myself, by the sacrifice of Armadale, from the exposure that threatened me. I tell no lies to my Diary." Yeah, sure...
The yacht sets sail with Allan and Manuel, without Ozias and Lydia, and the chapter ends with Ozias wistfully saying goodbye.

A lot of people seemed to find my last post helpful, and ever since discovering this profile it’s all I want to talk about, because it feels like the ultimate discovery into finally understanding why I am the way that I am. This is VERY lengthy but I wanted to include as many examples as I could.
PDA is demand avoidance caused by inborn extreme anxiety, but while a lot of resources discuss external signs of it, like young boys throwing big tantrums (standard traumatic fight response) there is very little literature on how it can present in girls (who often use fawn, freeze, or flight). Unsurprisingly, a lot of girls focus their anxiety inwards and act in ways that seem to be the opposite of what PDA would look like, but the root cause of anxiety and resulting distress is the same. Importantly, since this is something you’re born with and experience at almost all times, you may not even realize it’s actually anxiety. (I definitely didn’t). So here are a lot of things I experienced since birth that you may relate to:
As a baby: Extremely passive. Never cried. Appeared “needless”. Late to start talking, but could understand everything being said to me, and eventually jumped straight to speaking in full sentences. I appeared to be a very easy, quiet, needless baby.
As a toddler: This is when the high independence of PDA began to show. I enjoyed doing everything myself. I got myself ready for preschool and didn’t want any help. I was extremely quiet/withdrawn, but my anxiety didn’t take the form of tantrums or meltdowns - my mom said when I was upset, I would just go completely quiet and withdraw (freezing). This is what I’ve always done as an adult, and I always wondered why I seemed to have such a traumatic response of withdrawing from every perceived difficulty. It is extremely hard for me to open up or ask for help, despite growing up with wonderful supportive parents. I often seem to go mute under social stress. I now know it’s genetic and out of my control.
As an elementary kid: In school I was extremely obedient (fawning response). Stereotypical gifted student that was very prone to zoning out and daydreaming. I was very socially savvy. It was extremely important for me to fit in and not stand out in any possible way (hence why my masking feels so involuntary and natural). I satisfied my high need for control and autonomy by following every rule at all times. I was the perfect student, never acted out, was very eager to please, and the idea of getting in trouble was terrifying because it no longer felt like I was in control. Even now as an adult, I cannot stand seeing people break minor rules. I appeared to be very social in school and had a group of friends I got along with. I engaged in pretend play and made eye contact.
As an elementary kid at home, things were a little more difficult. I struggled a lot with hygiene and things like changing my underwear. I constantly struggled to keep my room clean, and the more my mom pushed me, the less I could do it (freeze response). On the rare occasions that I felt up for cleaning my room, I felt the need to be very discrete about it, because any acknowledgment of the fact that I was actually cleaning my room would cause me to no longer want to do it.
I was still highly independent, but a lot of things I insisted on doing by myself also seemed to have a layer of shame involved. I was (and am) a deeply private person, and hate feeling vulnerable in anyway. So while my mom would happily make my siblings school lunches or do their laundry, I insisted on doing these myself. Especially once I started wearing training bras - the idea of someone else doing my laundry felt mortifying to me as a 12 year old. There are many childhood situations I now reflect on where I wonder why I didn’t just ask for help when I was struggling. It just truly never occurred to me.
Middle school: As school expectations grew, my ability to do them shrunk. I was a very smart kid, so I could still get by unnoticed, but this is when my extreme procrastination started. I could never bring myself to do any homework at home. It was always an extremely last minute, rushed thing right before classes started. I struggled heavily with participation, not only because it’s genuinely difficult for me to be put on the spot, but because I knew it was an expectation.
High school and college: This was the start of my extreme school avoidance. I hated going to school. I wouldn’t outright refuse, but I would always say I was sick or struggling in some sort of way that was intended to manipulate my mom. When I did actually go, as a form of control, I constantly zoned out during classes and lectures. Even when I went on ADHD meds, nothing overpowered this need to remain in control, even if it was just in my head. The more school I missed, the harder it became to go. If a teacher ever gave us time in class to work on an assignment, I would use that time to work on any other assignment except the one we were supposed to be doing (flight response - running away from the anxiety of the current expectation). Some of my biggest periods of productivity are not actually motivated by a desire to be productive, but a desire to escape and avoid whatever current task is being asked of me.
It took me 5.5 years to graduate college due to the constant dropping out of classes or failing them at the very end. The closer I got to graduating, the more pressure I felt and the harder it became. I would truly become frozen. The amount of hours I spent in raging tears at 3 am, angry that I could not bring myself to finish a necessary final that was due 3 hours ago, is actually insane.
Before I realized it was autism, I was very convinced in college that I had avoidant personality disorder. Avoiding social situations was easy for me to see/be aware of, but it took a couple years before I realized this avoidance is actually directed towards nearly everything.
Now as an adult: I am a functioning adult with a full time job, but no one ever sees the struggle that goes into it. I often spend hours on my couch after work doing nothing, despite having things I want to get done. Groceries often get wasted due to the pressure of eating them. Over the counter meds don’t get taken when needed due to the pressure of taking them. I could never bring myself to take my makeup off at night despite wanting to have clean skin, so the only solution was to stop wearing it.
I am almost never consciously aware of my anxiety, but brain mapping has shown that I have an extremely overactive amygdala, and as a result of it, my brain shuts down extremely easily. Example: Every week, I go to my piano teacher’s apartment for a piano lesson. I will play a song I’ve played 100+ times, but the second I make a minor mistake or feel the slightest pressure, my brain feels like it shuts down. I can no longer read the music, I can no longer play the notes I was playing 5 seconds ago, and outwardly I feel like I just come across as slow or dumb.
I always felt that I was extremely intelligent when I was by myself, but when I’m in a classroom or around other people, the pressure from the anxiety is just too strong. It is extremely difficult for me to relax my brain enough to have natural back and forth conversations with people. My thoughts flow freely with a very small handful of people I trust, but a wall goes up with everyone else. Emotionally and mentally I do not feel like an anxious person, but this anxiety is the driving force behind almost everything I do. On very rare occasions (often in unfamiliar social situations) I will have panic attacks, but they don’t look or feel like panic attacks. I usually become very fidgety and feel the need to go through my purse or backpack or make it look like I’m doing something, because I’m actually panicking and truly have no idea what to actually do in those moments. I often come out of them with no memory of where I put my phone or keys because I was so dissociated.
Also as an adult: You would never know it, but I am naturally an extremely controlling and bossy person. In public and with friends, I have no issue with presenting an extremely laid-back, go with the flow manner; however, when I’m in the safety of my home with my boyfriend that I fully trust, I am very demanding. I like to control everything in my environment, down to the tapping of my boyfriend’s foot, or the volume of his phone. I also experience a lot of anxiety when I feel like I can’t control a social situation - I hate mixing my friends and romantic partner for this very reason. I feel in control when I’m with my best friend, and I feel in control when I’m with my partner, but if it’s all 3 of us together, I’m no longer in control of how the situation may play out, and it makes me extremely anxious to play the role of the mutual friend.
Every time I go to a restaurant, especially a new one, I feel a compulsive urge to look up everything I can about the restaurant. Before I’ve ever stepped foot in a restaurant, I will already know the menu, already have my order written down in my notes, already know the layout of the restaurant from looking at pictures online. I mentioned this to an ex bf one time and he was like “.. that sounds like extreme anxiety.” I argued with him that it actually wasn’t at all, it was just something I enjoyed doing, but looking back now he was absolutely right.
Despite avoidance being so common in my day to day life, there are certain things that I don’t feel a need to avoid. If a reasonable request is made and I understand why, I usually have no issue. If a request is coming from a person I trust and respect and want to please, I will have no issue doing it (very common at work - my bosses really like me and I love the autonomy they give me). Demands are also much easier when I feel like I’m in control of my current life. A lot of my “adult” habits, like keeping a clean apartment, making my bed, doing laundry, etc have been turned into habits through what genuinely feels to be brute force (and the help of stimulant meds). I am constantly amazed at the fact that I can keep my space relatively clean and functional, because it truly does not come naturally to me.
So looking at my life with the PDA lens, my accomplishments no longer just feel impressive, they feel miraculous. If you have a PDA profile you are working against your brain at every step of the way. It feels like you are a walking bundle of contradictions, and it feels impossible to please every part of your brain at the same time. I always wondered why I was so content by just doing nothing. I am a person who truly does not ever experience boredom, because doing nothing is my preferred state of being at almost all times. I have a very active mind and very big imagination, and it is almost always more satisfying to live in that head rather than have to face any kind of expectation in the real world.
Lastly, learning about the PDA profile made it so much easier for me to forgive my parents for never noticing the signs of autism. They always said I was extremely observant of people, but that I still played and interacted and seemingly appeared totally normal. It made me so angry to hear them talk like that, like how could they not see the signs? It made it much more difficult for my evaluation as well, because you can’t be diagnosed with autism if you don’t show signs in childhood, and my mom’s questionnaire she filled out made me appear completely typical. But of course they didn’t notice - I was literally doing everything in my power to go unnoticed and fit in as much as possible. A PDA profile has the potential to drastically alter how autism can present, and it is so important for professionals in the autism community to be aware of. I will continue sharing its existence as much as I can, because having the language to describe a struggle you’ve had your entire life does not fix the struggle, but makes it immensely easier to understand and handle.
Last tidbit before I throw my phone across the room to try and attempt homework: My love language has always, hands down, been acts of service. The amount of appreciation I feel for someone making my bed or doing a simple task for me is actually a little crazy. It may be easy for them, but for me it can feel impossible, so to know that they did something that would have no doubt caused me immense difficulty means the world to me.
If you ever want to talk more about PDA, even if you see this post months later, please don’t hesitate to message me! Clearly I love talking about it a little too much

Hey everyone, it’s time for the SECOND 2024 group musical! Night of the Living Dead is almost finished and we’re moving right along into starting A Scandal in Bohemia.
This project will be led by myself and u/atthevilladiodati.
If you already applied to work on A Scandal in Bohemia back in January (either choosing “Both” or SiB individually), you should have received an email from me and will not need to apply again. If you did not apply, or only applied for Night of the Living Dead, and would like to work on A Scandal in Bohemia, you will need to submit an application.
Application requirements:
Book writers: a 1-page excerpt of something you’ve written.
Lyricists: Lyrics sample (Sheet music or regular document are fine)
Composers: Audio file AND sheet music.
Applications will be due on Sunday, May 26.
Application link: https://forms.gle/jHiXcUDYYtAZxXnNA
As a note, we will be making Piano/Vocal sheet music for this show in order to make it performable for people outside of this group. Submission questions are file responses, and you can submit either something from your own Google drive, or a file from your computer directly.
Meetings will be taking place over Zoom and the majority of communications otherwise will take place over Discord, with some updates over email.
Can’t wait for everyone’s applications!

My family home is called the jolly anglers, we moved in when I was 1 year old in 1978 And parts of it goes back to medieval times as a wayside hovel, still has the original inglenook fireplaces. Was a public house/guest house for many years before we moved in, I will add a picture of it my mother has from Victorian times when I go round tomorrow, The earliest record of it that I've managed to find is in the 1841 census when William Rivett is the innkeeper. It was acquired by Steward & Patteson from Ferrier & Co. in 1884 and was still an S&P brewery pub when it served its final pint in 1952.
At some point between 1901 and 1911 the Angel changed its name to the Jolly Anglers possibly coinciding with a change in landlord. We think the poet Jessie Pope who moved to Fritton village after her marriage in 1929. Maybe referenced it in her collection of verses entitled Three Jolly Anglers, published in 1913. In the 1900’s they also added on a tearoom.
Over the years my mum could of and should of written a book about the paranormal happenings at the house that many of us experienced and have had three different paranormal investigating teams visit the house. I will take and upload pictures of historical features when I’m over there tomorrow. Dad built a indoor pool in 1988 and found many seashells deep down when it used to be linked by sea. And had a small jetty and boats used to moor up to visit it. (It’s now in the middle of the countryside) and over the years water has receded over a mile away in distance but many years ago the sea linked into The lake nearby and in pre-medieval times was largely dug then to extract peat for burning. The village where the house resides seems to have been known to our Roman heritage for ‘in a small hillock’ lying about half a mile north of the lake near to our house.
People always want to hear the paranormal side of my parents house which was part medieval wayside hovel then inn and a pub after that in Norfolk uk. so I’ve written some of the strange things that have Happened in my parents house ‘the jolly anglers’
Where do I start.. we moved into the house in 1978 and in the first six months mum was in tears and Wanted to leave again as she was scared to death of all the strange happenings, Dad was working away offshore at the time and they’d used all their money to buy the old house so knew they couldn’t just up and leave, dad wasn’t one for giving in but he also wasn’t the one living it daily. Half the time it was just mum, me as a 9month old and my older siblings 15 and 17. now they say teenage energy can cause spirits to be active in houses and it attracts them so Maybe that could’ve been why they all saw a lot when I was a baby in the house.
One night mum was in bed and I was in the cot in the same room when she woke up and heard rustling coming from the staircase which is open and goes straight into their bedroom , she then in the dim light saw a black shadow floating up the stairs and move very slowly to my cot, she was in shock and couldn’t move for a while and watched it float across the room and as the figure leaned in to my cot, mum was petrified and put the side light on in panic and the shadow just disappeared, she said the noise sounded like crinoline dresses how the material rustled as someone walked along, maybe in the Victorian era.
Another time My parents also whilst in bed heard an old honky-tonk type piano play downstairs, cigar smoke and voices several times in the first six months of living there- note they had no piano nor smoked. Dad always went down to investigate with his double barrel shot gun but everything went silent whenever he opened the door at the bottom of the stairs.
They lived with daily bangs, strange voices,knocking and footsteps all through their lives and also others myself and my siblings have heard these also on a regular basis, my brother and a friend of his whilst in the lounge one evening saw the start of what looked like a red woman’s dress coming down one set of stairs in the old area which was originally the pub.
The pub area is my parents best lounge and was once two rooms but dad knocked Them both into one big one, when it was a pub one was a smoking room and the other was the bar room which still has a bar in it but not the original one. My father purchased it from a old retired landlord of a demolished pub in Great Yarmouth. this room has a staircase each end one staircase goes into my parents bedroom, the other staircase the opposite end goes up into a small hall and off that are two bedrooms, one was my brothers And the other was my sisters, But I slept in there with her frequently. My parents built a small bedroom downstairs which was a section of the larger bathroom which decades before was called the parlour room not the bathroom, we do know from history records that one of the landlords children many years ago died in the house of tuberculosis a young girl about eight years old. My auntie used to sleep in my old small bedroom when she visited us and one evening Was petrified when she saw what looked like flickering candles moving under the doorframe, on another occasion she heard breathing which sounded raspy and a female crying. She ended up sleeping in my brothers room and refused to stay In my little bedroom after the two events.
Tins In kitchen have flown out of cupboards and dented the radiator, pictures have flown off walls and ornaments also have somehow landed other ends of rooms not just dropped downwards, small dancing white lights Have been witnessed by several people in Different areas of the house also seen by Paranormal research team. All teams have picked up Things and seen things and even been poked by a entity. Psychic mediums have come to the house and said there are many spirits including a woman who had several children and drowned herself, one Young man With a club foot who lived at the pub, and In those days would of been called a imbecile who owned a black dog Which haunts the house too, my mum later investigated documents to this claim and she saw on the 1899 census that in fact a man classed as a ‘imbecile’ was residing at the residence.
Now before the psychic talked about the woman, when I was a little girl about three, my parents tell me I had an invisible friend, apparently she was a lady in a red dress so I said, she used to push me on the swing outside and I used to talk to her and she’d play with me and my toys a lot, I said she was a nice lady that liked children. Years later a neighbour from the village was at one of our parties and was talking about the history of her family, they had lived in our village for many many years and she had been doing some family research and had recently found out that her great great grandmother had been pulled out of the lake which is near our house. she Apparently had drowned herself because twins were prevalent in her family, she had had two sets and was pregnant again, her husband had recently died And she couldn’t take it anymore, she was very poor and when they took the body from the river they didn’t have funeral homes in those days in villages, so they always laid the bodies out in a cold place.. which was normally the local pub cellar, where in fact she was laid out to be buried in our pub cellar and they held the post-mortem there too which she had documents of. which funny enough was my playroom as a child And freezer storage area. Now no one knows if she died wearing a red dress but it was sense that she loved children by the psychic so everyone thinks that that is the lady in a red dress that was my invisible friend as a child. There was an incident once where a family friends child was over with his mum and as 3 year olds do they open doors and investigate, unfortunately he opened the cellar door and fell to the bottom, now they are big concrete steps to the bottom of the cellar, My father saw him enter the seller But didn’t see him fall but when He rushed to him he was standing at the bottom of the steps not even crying, they all checked him over and said ‘are you okay? and he said ‘the lady got me’ and Pointed to an area in the cellar, Apparently gave everyone there goosebumps. Another occasion at a party there was a nonbeliever there who was joking about ghosts and what people had seen and said to a group of people ‘it’s a load of old nonsense’ the moment he said that the old heavy wooden front door creaked open and no one was there behind it, apparently he went very pale and flustered, many people witnessed that.
Also people have seen figures in the corner of their eye or movement for years and we all got used to the footsteps, taps and bumps as it is an old house and has had a lot of people walk through it, it ended up just a thing you got used to and mum didn’t leave after six months dad convinced her to stick it out and things did calm down but never completely stopped. When my grandmother died my father saw her sitting on the end of the bed looking at her daughter, When I was very ill as a child in bed I saw a man in a black suit which I thought was the doctor and I started talking to him asking where my mum was and he disappeared. One if my nieces has seen a lady sitting in a old velvet chair in one of the bedrooms, My other grandmother when she stayed over once heard what sounded like rings being dropped into the sink, as all bedrooms have a sink in, as it used to be a guest house. As a teenager I moved from my sisters old room into my brothers old room at the back of the house and one night I woke to see a very tall man in a black cape, we have no street lights in the village and I never shut my curtains as we are not overlooked, so the moonlight was coming through my window and he must’ve been 6 foot five tall as his head nearly reached the ceiling, and I could see in the light he had fair hair which was slicked back and parted at the side, but he didn’t move it was like a picture in a picture book I couldn’t help but be quite mesmerised for a few second on how clear it was, but I lost that feeling and suddenly jumped up and ran out of that room, Didn’t even bother putting a light on I woke my parents up and I burst into tears, that really shook me up. After that event i even changed the layout of my room so I wouldn’t wake up in that position again. Another time I woke and I heard loud footsteps going round the bed but strangely the footsteps were like heavy boots and they were at my Ear level not on the ground, to this day I still find that very strange and they sounded amplified too. Another time a man with scraggly long hair poked his head out from one of the sloped ceilings in my room also. Each time I’d shoot out of the room and sleep in the other bedroom for a few days Before I felt safe to go back in and sleep.
Me My Husband And our 2 year old daughter left at four in the morning once after a family wedding because my daughter was crying, my husband picked her up out of the cotbed and she pointed to a Corner near the stairs and said ‘man there’ she has autism and her speech was delayed at that age but she was psychically scared of something that night She did not settle there which was very unusual for her, it scared my husband so he said ‘we are going home now! When we got to our own home she slept peacefully, I believe a spirit was Being a nuisance to her.
One of mums best friends was spiritual and told me that I had a gift and that I saw spirits, It’s something I never wanted and it scared me every time, even in my own house grown with a daughter and husband of my own I still see ‘people’ as I call them in my own home at night and every time I see them I always think it’s an intruder before ever thinking its a spirit lol And I always ‘fight not flight, I run at them to attack and always end up running into my bedroom door lol.
My dad has been dead 15 years and when he died, he died at home in bed and the house was very active again for a while but my father built a lot of the new part of the house with his own hands so we all knew he would have a lot of energy there when he passed.
Mum Now on her own at the house and she Will be 80 in 2022 she now has Limited mobility but she is very stubborn and has no intention of leaving, it’s far too big for her to cope with but she has a Gardner and cleaner and I help her a lot with shopping, she says when she leaves this house it will be in a coffin.
My daughter is 11 and she stays with her nan ny every Friday night, it’s her routine and my mum loves having her, she stays a few days a week when it’s summer holidays and school holidays and she loves the house, but I feel she is spiritual too so can sense things but it doesn’t bother her to sleep on her own in my sisters old room next door to my mums. until about a year ago she told my mother that she had seen her grandad in mothers room where she slept on occasions and he asked her questions like ‘what does she like to do. After that she now sleeps down stairs, which is now where mother sleeps also now due to mobility.
Well That’s some of the stories anyway, there’s many more but these are the ones I can remember off the top of my head.
Other experiences…
A friend saw a bearded gentleman’s faced reflection as she passed by a mirror.
Mum saw a grotesque male face in gray similar to what Satan May look like for a split second in her Own reflection once in a mirror in the bedroom hallway.
I heard My music box draw click opened and the music started playing when I was trying to go to sleep one night as a child, I removed it from my room after that. My mother also had heard that too on occasions
I had china dolls in my room when I was a young teen and once one of their arms flopped down, got my dad to remove them and now are still in their hall way on a shelf.
One night mum felt really hot while trying to sleep she felt the heating was on too high so went to turn The heating down, the thermostat was in the lounge downstairs, as She went to to the thermostat she suddenly saw the door to lounge opening, all where asleep upstairs. She said she ran so fast up the stairs that she ran out of the top of the nightdress and ripped it, she Was shouting when she ran upstairs to my sister to grab me out of the cot and get in my brothers bedroom they then barricaded the door with his wardrobe and Didn’t sleep at all that night till morning when they all investigated together, apparently My brother complained and said ‘it’s roasting hot up here mum’ she replied ‘you will have to bloody sweat as I’m not going down till morning!
going up to bed one night she’s turning all the lights off in the lounge, she had a gold Latch she used to flip down to secure the door in lounge to the rest of the house, one night after she had done that as she walked to the stairs she suddenly heard the latch flick up and the door slowly open, another scarper up the stairs and lock the door behind her and put covers over her face.
all the bedrooms have either key locks or bolts on the inside of every Bedroom door due to travellers Visiting the pub years ago could rent a room for the night if they wanted as guests, Mum very much appreciated the locks and bolts as she did think it was mostly intruders to start with. It’s funny when you look back on it all and you think to yourself.. spirits can get through locked doors and bolted doors! but at the time it makes you feel really safe and secure that They will stay behind a locked door and funny enough most of the time They did.
Many times dad was armed with his shotgun quietly sneaky round the house after hearing bangs bumps and knocks..it’s a big house with many steps, levels, twists and turns so could take him a while to do a sweep search of the house, mum said she was always so relieved when he came back up to bed and said ‘no ones broke in’ but then both equally Perplexed on what the noise was that they heard in the first place.
Paranormal investigators along with mum and her teenage grandson witnessed all the glasses in bar which are stored upside downs start to all clink together several times.
Years later they went from a latch lock In lounge area to a battery operated alarm door lock so if it’s switched on And door opens, a alarm sounds. Which she set religiously. In middle of the night she heard the smoke alarm going off, when she went down half asleep and groggy to investigate she couldn’t smell any smoke so she got a stool and checked the smoke alarm and in her groggy sleep state she suddenly realised the noise was coming from the door which had been opened, she hastily shut door and used the old bolt and ran upstairs.
Mum was tidying behind the bar one morning after a family party we had the night before when she felt something or someone grab her shoulder, there was no one there.
There is a small American Indian doll high up on the bar (is still there) and one day my parents noticed I was playing with it as a toddler, they say there was no way possible that I would of been able to get that myself they said ‘how did you get that down from there? I apparently said ‘the lady gave me it!
So many to recall but these are some throughout the 46 years of my life.
Added..
Many lights started to flicker for over a month after his death touch lamps especially, also the solor lights outside the back door used to go in and off and we sat and watched them several times and spoke to dad sure that he was trying to Communicate with us. Many lights started to flicker for over a month after his death also the solor lights outside the back door used to go in and off we sat and watched them several times and spoke to dad .

Please be nice, I am admittedly clueless. But I’m trying! I’m very, very new to music theory. I’ve been playing piano for 16ish years and writing my own music for just as long and I had always just gone off of what sounds “right”. I’ve been learning by myself for around a year and I thought I had a good grip on it. Then I started writing a song with a chord progression I couldn’t resolve. It was D major, F# major, G, then…
I couldn’t find the chord! I tried to play the progression with all sorts of variations at the end, but nothing sounded right. I could HEAR it in my head, I tried to hum the notes, I tried to transpose it to C to make it easier… nothing sounded right. Every combination of notes sounded like I was missing something and it has been driving me bonkers for nearly a week.
I even asked my partner who is a pretty good musician if he could help me find the chord(guitar & bass player), but he was stumped too. We both could HEAR what SHOULD come next but couldn’t figure out the notes to make it happen.
I know there’s some piece of information I’m missing but I’m so new to this that I feel like I don’t even know where to start looking.
Also, as an aside, if anyone has any tips on ways to learn theory on your own that’s not incredibly overwhelming, please tell me! I’m so lost!

A bit early since I won't easily be able to post it tomorrow.
Note: Practice is available one day early (Sunday. The new tournament starts tomorrow on Monday). Enter the Arena leaderboard first so that the game "knows" your current league, then enter Practice. If you don’t do this the zombies will be much weaker (Soil level probably) compared to real Arena for your league and your strategy will not work as well as you think it will.

Special streak rewards: #5 Fila-mint family piñata.
Fila-mint family (11+1 plants): Lightning Reed, Citron, E.M. Peach, Magnifying Grass, Electric Blueberry, Electric Currant, Electric Peashooter, Electrici-tea, Ultomato, Power-vine, Bzzz Button, Electric Peel
Note: Fila-mint “seeds” are also included in the piñata. Fila-mint still needs to be unlocked for 100 mints no matter how many seeds you collect for it.
Note: Electric Peel in not included in the piñata.

Locked plant: Electric Peel – New Wiki Page, Old Wiki Page
Sun: 2000 at the start. Note: Sun drops will be a little faster than normal. On top of that, 450 sun will drop with every second Zombie Wave. A sun producer is probably not necessary.
Plant Food: 3 at the start. Note: No more will drop during the match.
Time: 3:00.

Buffz: Reinforce-mint (+100%), Spear-mint (+100%), Fila-mint (+100%)
Bruisez: None
Ineffective: None

Banned: Thyme Warp
Zombies: Wild West (Cowboy, Conehead, Buckethead, Cart Head, Prospector, Chicken Wrangler, Poncho, Piano, Bull, Gargantuar)

Starting Lawn:
Dave’s mold colonies filling C7-9
Five Blue Power Tiles on C2 R1-5

Zombot War Wagon
Summons Wild West Zombies, fires missiles, charges forward destroying plants and zombies on 2 lanes.
How to counter Zombot charge by
There is a health bar with a base score and a number in a circle in the lower right corner. The number in the circle is the level of your Zombot. Level 1 = 10,000 score, Level 2 = 20,000, etc. It's kind of two numbers for the same thing.
You get the score when you deplete the health bar. In Jade you get 5x the base score shown in the health bar. I’m not sure if the actual Zombot health increases per level, or stays flat.
Don't think about losing your plants (there are penalties in Arena matches, read Battlez/Arena FAQ, link below). Most scores come from Zombot and its level is not influenced by penalties. Also, if you do a lot of damage then Zombot gets interrupted before doing anything and you can avoid all the extra summoned zombies.

Possible BOT Layouts:
[Electric Peel, Citron, Dartichoke, Explode-o-nut, Electric Peashooter, Sunflower],
[Electric Peel, Fila-mint, Power Lily, Lightning Reed, Heath Seeker, Solar Sage],
[Electric Peel, Power-vine, Reinforce-mint, Endurian, Chard Guard, Gold Bloom]

Minimum info about your strategy: league, plant levels/mastery and score. Or you can post screenshot with the score. Otherwise it's hard to understand whether your strategy will work for other players with different plant levels/mastery and in different leagues.
Useful links: Battlez/Arena FAQ, Mastery and Buffz&Bruisez explained, Costume watch, PvZ2 level creator, PvZ2 Discord, Info on possible future rewards by : piñata party, special/premium piñata, Arena/Penny, etc. - link.
This is (almost) a copy of the Gumnut Zomboss tournament which ran in May, 2020.
The few differences are:

1. The starting sun was 1850 in the Gumnut tourney. It’s 2000 now.
2. This tourney adds a dynamic difficulty module that swaps out zombies for more/stronger zombies as you go up in Zombie Difficulty Level (See the Arena FAQ for a description of ZDL).
3. In the zombie wave manager, there’s a “WaveSpendingPointIncrement” parameter that’s set to 75 in this tourney. It was set to 200 in the Gumnut tourney.
4. Also in the zombie wave manager, there’s a “WaveSpendingPoints” parameter that’s set to 0 in this tourney. It was set to 100 in the Gumnut tourney.

I don’t know exactly how these last two changes will affect the tourney.
Here’s u/Tigerol’s post from the original tourney. In that post you can find strategies that people used then. They should still be valid in this tourney despite the differences. Just keep in mind that it ran before some of the newer OP seediums (e.g. Pea-vine, Stickybomb Rice) were introduced to the game.

While he’s unfortunately retired from doing PvZ2 videos, here are some strategy videos from the Gumnut tourney by kGame on YouTube. They should still be valid (with the same caveat about it being run prior to the introduction of many of the new meta plants):
Level 3 Free Plants (11M): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6oaKvX1Bsc
Mid Level Free Plants #1 (13.6M): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrMGETvRTl8
Mid Level Free Plants #2 (17.3M): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mnylir_UKw
Mid Level Plants (including Power Lily) (20.3M): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPgd9VH3y_I

Good luck with your attempts!

made this for my narrative essay in american literature, but one of my friends said i should share the story
“But I Still Need You” Throughout my life, I had always fallen easy for girls. The elementary mindset of, “she’s cute, so I have a crush on her,” prevented me from developing a legitimate relationship with any girl I tried to talk to. The few times that my feelings were reciprocated, I had no idea because I was already on to the next girl, and this continued until I was left with a multitude of friend-zone situations and a list of “crushes.” My charisma already lacking, it seemed each year that passed, previous to 3rd grade, I grew in weight and therefore awkwardness. The struggle to interact with women lessened as I grew up, while the fat remained. So, by the 8th grade I was the ideal guy friend; easy to talk to, kinda funny, understanding, and unintimidating. My approachable “funny fat friend” nature had its ups and downs. While guys, for reasons I still don’t fully understand, suspected me to be gay, girls found it intriguing and it made them want to be friends with me more. Back then I didn’t know, but now I know that by being forced to be friends first, after finding out I was in fact not gay, the right woman for me would want to be with me for my personality. In the winter of 2021, I fell hard for a girl named Madeline. Maddie was no different than many of the other girls in that she had a bland personality and I thought she was cute. She had brunette hair with bangs, big glasses, way too much makeup on, and a unique fashion sense. Her sense of fashion was one of the few interesting things about her, yet it was disregarded by the public. Not too many guys found her appealing, but I did, for whatever reason. I was dead set on getting to know her better in hope of becoming more than friends. Unfortunately, she hardly paid attention to me, but I didn’t give up. I merely slowed down because of my interest in her friend, Isabella. Isabella is the Spanish and Italian variation of Elizabeth (derived from the Hebrew name Elisheba). The meaning of Elishiba can be translated to, “God is my oath.” In Arabic, the beginning of Isabella, “Isa,” is the classical Arabic name for Jesus, while in the French language, the shortened version of Isabella, “Belle,” translates to “beautiful.” I had met Isabella in the sixth grade, and grew a tiny crush on her, in the elementary sense, before we all went into hibernation (COVID). I barely knew her though, and she had no idea who I was, so when we interacted in my last two classes, if we did at all, it was like two strangers who kept running into each other. I sat by her in my sixth period, and one seat up and to the right from her in seventh. We only ever made small talk and the occasional joke, but when I spoke with her I felt content. Still barely knowing her, all I could admire was the little things in the way she laughed and spoke. I longed to know more about Isabella, she was mature, intelligent, and very opinionated, but still light-hearted and made time pass at the speed of light. It wasn’t until she was in my group in sixth period one day that she began to open up a little by sharing the details of her current long-distance relationship. The shards of my heart stabbed and crushed my stomach; hope, the oxygen to my mind, depleted faster than the air of a broken space shuttle; palpitation, nausea, asphyxia, and neurosis bombarded me like Persian arrows on the Greeks. Then, all at once, the excruciating tidal wave evaporated, but instead of calm waters, I was left with a drought. Every emotion muted or gone, my body went numb while everything I cared for vanished from my mind. I didn’t speak throughout the rest of that day, and went directly from the bus to decaying in my bed. I was devastated, so I retreated to my pointless crush on Maddie. Unrelated to the rather sad lovelife, my anxiety and depression worsened throughout 8th grade, and while I was going to therapy, most of my issues wouldn’t and still haven’t been worked through. Throughout the school year I had developed a toxic system of self pity, in which I would spend hours a day cycling through the feelings of hope, anger, and despair- never that of joy. I knew what I was doing, gathering enough hope to face the school day just before I reflected on the doubts and grievances going on throughout my life. I’d bring myself up just for a greater fall because honestly, overtime I became numb to the natural pain. If I were going to fall into the pit that is depression, the higher I peaked in terms of optimism the more excruciating the freefall of nausea and the heavy flow of salt water. At that point in my life, I saw no point in getting out of bed to do anything, school or even my own mother’s birthday. By the end of eighth grade I had spent almost a total of six weeks absent, two of which were from me being quarantined. Typically over the span of one or two days, others up to four, I would be in my bed “sick.” During these mini-vacations I would sleep all morning, if my mom let me, and stay up all night, oftentimes listening to Radiohead or Cigarettes After Sex while staring at my ceiling. I wanted to stay up, I wanted to feel the bags grabbing and pulling towards my cheekbone, I wanted to feel empty, emotionally and physically. During the day, my anxiety attacks became panic attacks and I would get sent home for vomiting. I'd throw up to give Mom a reason to let me stay home. I’d throw up to feel something, anything. I’d throw up to keep my stomach empty. I’d throw up because I had to, because the nerves and overthinking forced me to. Every morning, I’d drag my black air force ones across cement, carpet, tiles, and marble, each step leading towards Mrs. Clements’ homeroom. For every step, a different worry or insecurity flashed through my brain. But then, out of the blue, I’m “Lincoln” again. I walk into homeroom with an ear-to-ear grin and dap up “the boys”. I’d spend the morning building up hopes of making Isabella laugh today, or maybe calling her once I got home, but I knew that nine times out of ten my hopes were delusional. To “Lincoln,” this was no problem, he would make a gay joke, join the boys with teasing a cute girl in my class, and laugh until just for a moment, the despair was gone. Finally, the sixth period would come and I’d get to see Isabella. In here I got the least work done out of all my classes as I would find myself strategically planning my next interaction with her, just for said plans to go out the window when I was brought face to face with her. Typically seventh period followed the same pattern except Ms. Shirley Davis could never allow small talk in her classroom. When the last bell rang, I went straight to the buses. I’d sleep on the way home, dreaming of a call that would hardly happen. On the off chance my phone didn’t reach its feared 11th cry, we’d talk for hours at a time. On a weekday or not, it seemed that, when we did call, it was guaranteed to go into the early morning. It’s hard to put my finger on a specific topic, or even general. In our conversations, we discussed anything and everything. Everything, except her own love interest. I admired this, as my inability to keep who I’m thinking about at the time a secret is a major flaw of mine. The more that me and her spoke, the more I grew to love her. Our talks were so honest, so raw, that the secret I held began to eat away at me. My core collapsing like a dying star, each day it felt like the pain got worse. To cope with the feelings I had buried deep inside me, I’d turn to my friends. At first, they said to come forward with my feelings, but I knew that’s what any friend would’ve said. The relief I got from venting the conflicting hurricane within me was brief. Overtime, their words of encouragement turned to annoyance, and understandably so. When people grew sick of the same old sadistic untold love, I turned to Isabella. I wrote a text so full that, to read it, one needed to tap on an arrow at the bottom right corner of my message. The essay was compiled with the confliction I had, developing feelings for a friend, and the sorrow that filled me each day that passed without her. I described the perfect imperfections that I admired about her, how life was complete when I spoke to her, the beauty that paralyzed me every time I saw her in person, and the character that I felt God had curated specifically for me. Sitting there unsure if I should press send, a fear grew within my chest that Isabella would see right through me. I could hear the music that so often triggered tears; the vocals of Thom Yorke or the beats of Kanye West, they faded in and out. What if she didn’t even respond? What if she thought I was a creep? What if- then she responded. Suddenly, the ominous 808s & Heartbreak pounding vanished, my respiratory chaos became paralyzed, and time stood still. I couldn’t breathe until I finished reading, and once I did, my sigh was all but relieving. Isabella explained to me how unhealthy my habits were; even in comparison to the anguish that would follow, I’d suffer far more and far longer should I suppress my emotions. She told me how that level of affection, in the context of the warped concept of romance most men had, was something she had only dreamt of. Isabella said that holding these feelings would eat away at me, exponentially increasing in severity, until I broke. Not only would I be hurting myself, but I would be depriving the person I care about most from the appreciation they deserve. I became bloated with fear of the friendzone, those insecurities, all based upon inference, became a reality with Isabella’s last piece of advice. She said, “If she doesn’t reciprocate those emotions, then don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a girl out there who can appreciate your compassion.” The blame had no other place to go than my shoulders, after all, I got what I asked for, advice on another girl. Isabella, even if she saw the crush I had on her, is far too kind to address it. She cared for everyone, and to her, she was merely boosting up a friend who’s down. For the rest of the night her text echoed through my mind; pain, regret, and admiration caused my mind to sporadically leap from conclusion to conclusion. Two years later, those words still haunt me, reiterations of that phrase torturing me when I least expect them. The school year progressed, but my aspirations with Isabella didn’t. Over time, the frequency of my writings grew to be weekly, at times reaching two a week, and the weight of my confessions depleted. I opened my audience to a mutual friend of Isabella’s, Miley, with the intention of acquiring useful advice. Eventually, my choice to try concealing what I felt for Isabella became too heavy of a burden, weighing down on me in forces I had not endured before. Soon, the love I had for Isabella turned to hatred for myself. I was relentlessly criticizing every aspect of myself and my mind. I hated how fat I was, my smile, my voice, my laugh, and most of all my personality. What I had thought was my greatest strength, was revealed as my worst trait. The gullibility I exhibited when thinking for a second Isabella could possibly like me; the lack of confidence that caused me to chicken out of confessing my feelings to her; my insufferable need to make people laugh; the hyperfixation I would develop for those that I love. Everything about me was wrong. I stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped caring, and eventually I stopped living. The “Lincoln” my friends had grown to recognize, the only remnant of the joy I felt when I was younger, died, and I was left with only my love for Isabella and resentment for myself. I began testing the limits of what was left of me, praying for relief. At first in the middle of the night, an anaconda would find its way to my throat, wrapping around my neck. Its cold black scales gracefully gliding across my skin before silencing my cries with the swift tug of its metallic USB head. The snake would maintain pressure until I let go of it, the entire time whispering into my ear, begging me to hold on. Some nights it came with what must have been a full stomach for it was drastically wider, it was brown these nights, with leather skin, and a slight warmth, but it behaved the same. Most visits from the snake ended with my vision blurry, my breath short, or my head dizzy. The only consistency of our transactions was Asia’s Death Lake that streamed down my face from start to finish. Eventually, the snake seemed closer and closer to silencing me forever, but I also became used to its visits. I began writing letters to everyone I loved so that, should the snake come out victorious, they’d have a final goodbye. Once I had sorted out my notes, I called the snake to my room. This time it came striped with shades of blue, its skin a soft fabric. For once, I controlled the snake, because our intentions finally aligned. I locked the door, sent out my texts, placed the written notes on my dresser, and joined the snake at my closet door. Holding onto the doorknob, the snake wrapped itself around my neck just as it had done in nights of the past. It whispered to me, “let go,” for I had been on my knees in hesitation. I followed the snake’s order by making a sort of plank with my body, the bottom half resting on a stack of dirty laundry and pillows while the top was supported by my elbows. Pressure swiftly fell down on my neck and didn’t stop. “This is it,” I thought to myself. My eyes seemed to pop out of my skull, and my tears, falling down like summer rain, became blurry dots as my vision went dark. Next thing I know, I’m waking up, snot, saliva, and tears strung between my face and the carpet floor. My head pounding and my eyes burning, I looked up at the “snake” that was the tie my mom had gotten me for Sunday service. Although my mind was more clear, it was not out of revelation, but from a muted sense of the world around me. Other than Isabella, nothing mattered anymore, and the little emotion I felt was squashed by my immortal love. The following day I get called to the counselors office on charges of suicidal thoughts and self harm. I said what I had to in order to escape her grasp, but left infuriated. Not only had my own friends betrayed me, but the lady who was supposed to guide me essentially scolded me for being sad. Throughout the day my anger faded out and my focus became making an excuse as to why my parents got a weird call from my counselor, then I’d find the traitor who sold me out. That afternoon, I lost two friends, and for the first time ever got mad at Isabella. Apparently, Miley, Maddie, and Isabella all reported me to the counselor that morning. They said I had been traumatizing them with what was going on in my life, being normal and messing around at school, then detailing my thoughts and actions to them outside of school. I felt like I had been tricked. I thought they were my friends. I thought they understood me. They asked me if I was okay, they said they wanted, cared, needed to know, but now I had scared them? I addressed what had happened with Miley first. She immediately lashed out at me, saying I should be thanking them, not be mad. While I didn’t want to accept it, I understood the core of her choices. On the other hand, Maddie’s response to my confrontation was disgustingly cruel. She said I had been unfair and just seeking attention, that no thirteen to fourteen year old should hear about what I was going through because it was unnatural. Before she continued, I apologized, that’s all I could think to do, because deep down I believed her. She told me it wasn’t all my fault because my brain was messed up, and that opening up to the girls would only make them not want to be friends with me. The one word that rang through my head then, and still does today, was “creep,” she claimed that what I felt wasn’t love, but I was just mentally unstable and creepy. Any remnants of the sweet kid from elementary school who just wanted a friend and loved everyone were obliterated. Maddie was right, all I had done was hurt and scare them, it didn’t matter what I thought. I told her all I could, that I didn’t know what to say other than I was sorry for the damage I had done, and I would try and get better. Her response, like a branding iron on my mind, was, “It’s not damage, it’s baggage. Imagine if the roles were reversed.” It was only then that I stopped texting back. I wish I could say it was out of frustration or self respect, but the reality of my manipulative traits is what silenced me. Shockingly, the response that hurt the most was from Isabella, yet it somehow meant the most to me too. Isabella told me that she needed me in the world. She told me that if I ever got those thoughts again, to think about her as well; to think about the pain I’d be causing her; to think about the trauma she’d live with for the rest of her life. After repeating the phrase, “I need you in my life,” she acknowledged how selfish it was, but still didn’t care. Isabella continued elaborating, she didn’t care because no label of selfishness outweighed the value of my life. What she said that night has been vivid in my mind since, but my only wish is that she had needed me as I needed her. Tears began to hide my freckled cheeks as I texted her about how much her words meant to me, how much she meant to me, and I apologized to her. I said sorry for the baggage I caused, the “creepy” behavior, and any other ways I had wronged her. I said sorry for loving her, and told her I’d do better. She disregarded my apologies, telling me that I could always talk to her because no matter the baggage she could carry, it’d be worth taking the smallest bit off of me. Her words meant so much to me, yet hurt me just the same. I hated myself for it. I couldn’t see a life without an affection for her, it was pathetic. If I truly loved her, I’d let my feelings go, right? What kind of person did that make me? Summer came and went. Hoping that time would kill the crush I had on Isabella, I prohibited myself from contacting her. Instead I spent time with my family and a few friends, but Isabella never left my head. Even when accompanying my dad to Berry College for the Governor’s Honors Program, she’s what filled my head. At first I felt frustrated because before I had come forward to her, she had known about the feelings I had. I came to the conclusion that she had been dragging me along, but even then I knew how easily that thought would be abandoned. First day of High school, I got in touch with her. For maybe two weeks, I maintained a platonic relationship before free falling into the ominous pit once again. This time felt different though, it felt like what I had thought about everyday, for what seemed eternity, could be more than a daydream. We texted each other throughout the school day and facetimed after her cheer practice and my band practice. Eventually, Isabella was falling asleep on call. Before, we’d talk long into the night, and it began to drain the energy out of the both of us. Now, we were listening to music, playing Roblox, watching Netflix, or just sitting in silence. I had never felt comfortable with silence, but she made it seem better than having a conversation with anyone else. It’s a beautiful thing when words aren’t required to appreciate someone. The moment I had the courage to do so, I asked her out to Steak n’ Shake. It’s just my luck that the restaurant was hardly a shell of what I remembered as a kid. At first the conversation was awkward because we hardly spoke in person, but as time progressed so did we. I still remember the tightness of my cheeks as I failed to suppress my ear-to-ear grin. The euphoric nausea and beating heart that disappeared throughout our conversation. I remember the booth we sat in, the fact that she wanted me to swap seats with her because of her creaky seat, the way she giggled, how I fought tooth and nail to pay for such a small bill, the way she smiled when she said, “next time you’ve gotta let me pay,” and the shared excitement for our next hangout. Even though Isabella and I were still friends, even though the restaurant was a disaster, even though the fries were stale and the milkshakes chunky, that moment is one of the best in my life. With how well things were going, I thought that it was my best chance at making something more out of this friendship. So, I shot my shot. I told her that despite my efforts the summer before, she still held a special place in my heart. Isabella responded with her own struggles with recovering from a past relationship, detailing the trust issues and pain she still felt almost a year later. I was yet again, devastated. Then she added that despite her own feelings, she had to be careful and the risk of losing our friendship scared her. I understood her reasoning, but it made me sick to think of how close I was. In response, I expressed how I could relate to those feelings, and the conflict I had with them. It felt ridiculous having opened myself up once again, to just be friendzoned. Her response struck me with both hope and devastation, “I f*cking love you a ton Lincoln, but I’m struggling to differentiate my admiration as a friend and as something more. I’m terrified of losing you.” Previously I would have seen this as a sign to keep trying, but at that moment, I couldn’t see past the blatant friendzoning. After pursuing her for so long, it felt cruel of her to continue dragging me along like this, even though she was being honest. My reaction to the straw that broke the camel’s back is one of, if not, the biggest regrets in life. Homecoming was a little over a week away and she was going (as friends) with my buddy, Davis, so in a storm of hatred for myself and the situation I was in, I gave up on her. Our conversations grew to be minimal and far apart. Soon, I started to resent her. Each day since then, I have somehow felt more remorse than the last for not asking her to Homecoming. Homecoming night is when I began flirting with Claire, a sweet redhead from gym class. We connected on not going with the person we had hoped for. All it took was me joking that I should’ve spent more time around her, instead of leaving the dance early, for Claire to lose her mind. Over the next month or so, I was becoming closer and closer with Claire, despite her irritable “quirks”. I only spoke to Isabella if she reached out to me first with the only exception being when I would ask her for “advice” about Claire, which was a shameful habit I started as petty revenge on Isabella. Eventually, Isabella blocked me on Snapchat, but it didn’t matter. Things with me and Claire were going great, she made me feel like I didn’t need to starve myself to be good enough for her. She made me feel like I was enough. For the next two and a half months, life was great. After the first couple months of ignorant bliss, I was sick of her. Sure, there were a variety of reasons to find her annoying, most people I knew could list more than they have fingers and toes, but she didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have gotten into the relationship in the first place not only because of Isabella, but also the speed at which me and Claire started dating. She was still growing out of the elementary relationship phase, so while it was nice to connect with someone so quickly, it was rushed. Another issue being that I was her first real boyfriend, the baggage that followed me was detrimental to her and I couldn’t give her the attention she needed. As me and Claire began our month long drift apart, I was unblocked by Isabella. She and I caught up, and we quickly began to talk trash about Claire while on call. It was unbelievably toxic, and I’m embarrassed of how I handled things to this day. Eventually, with the support of Isabella, I decided it was time to break up. The only issue was the guilt I had in such a terrible choice, I could never do it. So I began to get more distant by the day, ignored texts and calls, and stopped walking her to classes because “I had to pee.” Eventually she caught wind of my plans and called me after school one day. Sobbing, she told me what she had heard and how she knew it wasn’t true, but it still worried her. I began to get ready to break the news, but she was already crying so what's the worst that could happen? I wish I had never asked myself that, because next she told me she’d been cutting herself. My heart sank in remorse for what I knew I would do. If I led her on longer, the aftermath of my cold actions would lead to even more catastrophe. I was scared, but knew the lesser of the two evils I had to pick from. I calmed her down, quickly notified her friends to be keeping an eye on her, and then dumped her. To this day, I am disgusted by my actions. Throughout the past three months, Claire expressed how she had loved and trusted me, yet I threw that all away. There are so many ways I could’ve handled the situation differently, but two stood out the most. Showing respect by speaking to Claire the moment I realized my feelings had fleeted was the bare minimum that I disregarded, but the second was far simpler. I had known from the start that I was still in love with Isabella and that love never faded, but was only suppressed. The entire relationship we developed, while we both enjoyed parts of it (her more than me), was a lie, and essentially a cruel joke played on Claire. There’s no excuse for my actions, and even worse, I could’ve cared less back then. It was only when time had passed that I began to understand the damage I had done. Without Claire holding me back, my newfound freedom led to a closer friendship with Isabella. I dove headfirst into the familiar pit all over again. A friendship was not enough, I appreciated every interaction I had with Isabella, but my life depended on a future with her. It’s likely she felt this as she slowly began to drift away from me. Before I had stayed up speaking to Isabella, but now I couldn’t sleep out of the tormenting absence of her voice. The only path to good health was time; distance was best for the both of us, and I knew it. For the rest of that school year, everything around me was going, but I stood still. It was like my life was just a sitcom, and I was no longer the main character. The summer that followed was just the same, I was living but dead, moving but still, speaking but silent. I was dissociating from my friends and family, but the absence of that violent snake made my depression insignificant. Living a life without her was more punishment than death itself, and I didn’t deserve relief. Even now, I think of that summer and remember almost nothing, for my life isn’t worth remembering without Isabella in it. Sophomore year began, and so did my conversations with Isabella. This go around, I was subtle with my feelings for her. The excitement I had for speaking with her was under control, but it was because the spark inside me had faded, even when it came to Isabella.The years of self pity and depression had left a toll on me that could never be reversed, and it didn’t help that Isabella began to build a relationship with another guy. When we spoke, if we did, Isabella’s concern for my mental state outweighed the friendship we were struggling to preserve. I had come to the conclusion that pursuing Isabella would only make things worse, and I needed to just be her friend. Since I couldn’t lose the feelings I had for her, I just sat in them. While I sat in the pit, Isabella and I had one particular Facetime call in which I brought up how much I regretted dating Claire. To that, Isabella added, “Yeah, she’s so annoying. I can’t remember if you told me why you got together in the first place, what led you to her?” I paused with the thousand-yard stare of an American private fresh out of West Point. “I guess I was just so disappointed with myself for not being able to go to homecoming with you and being stuck on you for so long that I impulsively got with another girl to forget about my shortcomings,” I said with reluctance and stuttering every few words. She told me that she would’ve said yes to homecoming without a second thought, but I knew she meant as friends. Then, to my dismay, Isabella revealed that whenever I got with Claire, she still had feelings for me. It was me talking to Isabella about how great things were with me and Claire that led her to block me and cut contact with me. The piano melody from “No Surprises” by Radiohead began looping through my mind as tears ran down my face. I forget how I ended the call, but once I did, I broke. I lost my breath, my head got light, my eyes became blurry, my stomach was nauseous, and my insides sank as far as they could. Everything I wanted, dreamed of, needed had been so close, and I blew it. Everything was my fault. Later I would ask her why she lost them, and her answer proved how much better she was than me. Isabella answered, “I had been hurt, so I moved on. Just got over it.” We hardly spoke anymore, but one text message has found a permanent home in my mind. After asking me how I was, Isabella wasn’t satisfied with, “it’s complicated.” She asked that I explain it to her so that she could try to understand. I told her about all the issues going on in my life, except the torch I still held for her. She wrote, “I know you’re not religious, so it may not mean anything, but I pray for you every night, Lincoln. Even though it sounds bad, I think that I've known you weren’t in the greatest mental place for a while. I want you to know I'm not judging you, I want you to feel comfortable enough to share that with someone. You have to be able to recognize how you’re feeling in order to even fix it.” These words broke me despite their simplistic appearance. Reading that she prayed for me hit me hard as she had always tried to get me to believe in God again. I’m agnostic, and nothing has come closer to bringing me back to faith as Isabella did. The idea that if God were real and I could see her in heaven was appealing, but should Christianity be the wrong choice, I wanted to be wrong with Isabella. In the following days, Isabella told me about Alex, a guy she had been talking to a lot, and how they were at most a month away from being together. I hated everything about Alex, which is a stupid name in the first place. I hated his choice of friends, I hated how white-washed he was, I hated how he dressed like a conservative cowboy, I hated the underbite that made him look like a pug, I hated his short curly hair, I hated the fact that he was a diehard Trump supporter while people of his race were being oppressed, I hated how he pretended to be someone else when he was around Isabella, I hated how he hid unhealthy habits from her, I hated that a guy like him garnered Isabella’s affection when I couldn’t. I barely knew the guy and I was wasting my energy with hatred for him, when in reality, he was just a mind-numbingly basic douche among the hundreds just like him at our school. Isabella regularly complained about Alex, but hardly did anything. Instead she stopped bringing it up, saying that talking about her issues with others only makes it worse and that she was just wining. The monotone delivery of her reasoning hurt my soul, it was like she was reciting a text from Alex. Each day that passed, I felt the urgency of expressing my feelings one more time rising. Soon Isabella and Alex would be official, and I would lose my chance to try and express how I felt one more time. I reached out to Isabella and asked if she was free to hangout that friday. On November 10, 2023, Isabella picked me up around 5:30 in the evening. She kept the inside of her SUV looking brand new in contrast to the familiarity of her smile. My nerves left me winded after every sentence and shivering in her passenger seat. Quickly our conversation became more natural as I cracked jokes to ease my anxiety, but my shaky breathing never stopped. We went to Publix to grab some snacks and drinks and headed right back to my neighborhood park. At the Grove Point Park, we found a swinging chair to sit in. Due to the time of the year, the sun had already set, but Isabella’s beauty was indifferent under the moonlight. I haven’t the slightest clue how long we sat there together. When I’m with Isabella, even Father Time gives me grace, for he knows that he is as powerless as I am to the frequency of these moments. After a while, I mentioned that it was getting late and she agreed. On the ride back to my place, I mustered the bare minimum of strength it took to confront my feelings. As she drove over the speed bump before entering the roundabout, I began to open up. I briefly told her that I still felt the same way I did two years ago, that I had tried to forget about the feelings I had with no success, and that I was sorry to once again ruin our unstable friendship. She told me it was fine and my feelings were natural, nothing to regret or be ashamed of. Her words meant nothing to me this time because I had already heard them. Defeated, I paused for a moment, then said, “Isabella, you reciprocated my feelings in the past, so after Alex, do you think that maybe we’d have a chance?” She looked at me with pain in her eyes, not for herself, but for me. She quietly said, “I- Lincoln, you know I can’t answer that. I’m with Alex now, it wouldn’t be fair.” All I could get out was, “Oh- I- I’m sorry. Uh yeah no, you’re uh- you’re right.” Everything in me pulled and begged at my lips to say what I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I still look back on that night and wish I had said the few words I never got to tell her. What if saying them could’ve changed something? Realistically, it wouldn’t have, but the regret remains. I doubt Isabella would have even remembered where my word choice stemmed from. Regardless, the words rang in my head then, and never stopped. All I wanted to say at that moment was, “but I still need you.” Today, 1,725 days since I first saw Isabella, 822 days since I first facetimed Isabella, and 178 days since that heartbreakingly beautiful night, I still love her the same. Looking back on my experience with her, I regret many things (oversharing, Claire, the snake, etc.), but the one thing I have never regretted was meeting and loving her. It was only recently that I realized that loving her has been one of the biggest mistakes in my life. For three years, day in and day out, I’ve thought about her. Three years where I could have met other people, worked on myself, enjoyed my friends and family, but instead I’ve loved her and nothing, nobody else. The one lesson that was essential for me to take away from my experience was impossible. In eighth grade I was 5’7 and 215 lbs, today I’m 5’10 and 165 lbs. In eighth grade I spent time with my parents, today I hide in my room. In eighth grade, I told people how I felt, now I’m too scared. In eighth grade, I talked about my depression, now I am left alone to deal with it. In eighth grade, I had many friends, now I rarely speak to them. In eighth grade, I needed Isabella, but the one lesson I should’ve learned never took effect. I still need her.

One would’ve thought I’d be used to this by now – typing with one arm. It takes time to get used to; especially when you’ve spent most of your life in front of a keyboard. Muscle memory digs deep.
A few years ago, I was in a car accident. I was going 60 down an empty road, coming home from a long day of overtime, when some kind of animal came charging out of the woods. Trying to avoid a collision, I swerved off the road. My front left wheel got caught in a ditch, sending the entire vehicle careening off the road; only to smash into the trunk of an ill-placed black walnut tree, driver’s side first.
I have this vague memory of blinking lights and vague shapes in the distance. I was so cold. But at the same time, it was so unreal. I couldn’t even understand what had happened.

I was brought into emergency surgery. My left arm was, literally, hanging by the thread of my jacket. It had come off clean by the socket.
According to the surgeons, I was lucky. Most of my shoulder was intact, so it became a matter of salvaging what they could. The cut had been clean. I did suffer some whiplash damage to my neck and lower back, but considering I could’ve easily died or gotten paralyzed, losing an arm was considered “mild”.
Looking back at it, I am inclined to agree. Considering what could’ve gone down, I was damn lucky. Still, in that luck, I wished I could’ve gotten just a tiny bit luckier. See, I had this gold ring that I’d been given by my later mother. A simple thing with the engraving of a musical note on the inside – a memento of our shared love of music. We played Louis Armstrong at her funeral.
That ring disappeared in the accident. Somehow, that’s what bothered me the most. My arm could be reattached. It could heal. But that little memento was just gone.

What followed was a long period of intense physical therapy, medication, and painful readjustments. It took weeks before I could even move my fingers again, and when I did, it felt like pushing your nerves through an unwashed garlic press. It was this stunning chemical-level kind of pain. The kind where your body just shuts down, begging you to stop.
But over time, I started to get over it. Small movements started to get better. I could tie my shoes. Press the space bar. Hold a knife. I wasn’t about to juggle anytime soon, or play the piano, but I could get by.
Soon enough, I got back to work.

People were glad to see me. I wasn’t gonna be able to work at full capacity in my usual role, but I could still sit in on meetings. I won’t bore you with the details, but most of my work relies on answering e-mails, proofreading, and translation. It’s pretty technical stuff that requires a lot of pitter-patter on keyboards.
At one point, I was stuck in a particularly drawn-out meeting between two clients that we were facilitating. I was there mostly as an observer (to fill the seats), but I was supposed to weigh in if something related to my department came up. Of course, it didn’t, but I still had to act interested. My colleague was trying to draw up a compromise between the two parties, laying out terms and conditions. Meanwhile, I was nursing a cup of coffee and waiting for the day to be over.
Looking over to my side, I noticed something odd. I wasn’t just holding the coffee cup with my left hand; I was stroking it with my index finger. Sort of like how you’d scratch a wary cat under its chin.

It was a strange sensation. I was looking at my own arm, my own hand, and I couldn’t feel what was happening. I couldn’t feel the ceramics tapping against my finger, or the twitch of the nerve as it contracted and extended. It was just happening. An involuntary twitch, perhaps.
But it didn’t feel like it. It felt intended, somehow.
A few similar events took place that day. Grabbing the bathroom door for a little too long. Knocking over desktop decorations. Suddenly letting go of my jacket as I was about to head home. It was just little things. I was still having trouble even using my arm in the first place, so these quirks didn’t bother me too much.
A friend of mine was giving me a ride home. I wasn’t at 100% yet and sitting behind the steering wheel felt like inviting disaster. Instead, I sat in the passenger seat, nodding off as the trees passed me by with a steady rhythm; causing me to blink.

A noise pulled me back. The driver said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. Turning to him, I excused myself.
“Sorry, what was that?” I asked.
“What are you doing?” the driver repeated.
I looked over. My left hand was wrapped around the parking brake, as if ready to pull. I forced myself to let go.
“Nothing,” I said. “Sorry, I don’t… it’s nothing.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Just… don’t do that.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Yeah, no. Sorry.”

That night, I was exhausted. It felt like my lungs had been robbed of breath. I felt weak and trembling. I was cold, yet feverish. Famished, but without an appetite. I went to bed early, faceplanting into the pillow.
I had horrible nightmares, none of which I can remember. I kept waking up over and over, not being able to discern dream from reality. My bed was soaked with cold sweat, sending shiver after shiver up my spine.
By the early hours of the morning, a stray ray of sunshine burned my eyes open. I was lying on my side, looking towards the window, leaning on my left shoulder.
The fingers of my left hand were moving on their own. And not just moving, but bent in every which way; as if lacking bones. They were vibrating, shuddering, like wounded worms fearing a predator.

I grabbed my hand, and my fingers were back to normal. I could move them as usual. For a moment, I was doubting what I’d seen. It was one thing to experience oddities, but that was unreal. I must’ve laid there for half an hour, just expanding and contracting my hand, begging my body to work with me.
“Enough of this,” I begged. “Please. Enough. Please.”
I clapped my hands, cracked my fingers, and ran them through my hair. It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Right?

A couple of weeks passed without any serious peculiarities. I could even work a little. There were a few of oddities, like unknowingly grasping a warm cup, or my fingers pointing in all directions when in contact with cold water. Just strange little things that I could easily get control of.
That was, until one morning at work. We were out of coffee, so I was making myself a cup of tea instead. As the water came to a boiling point, I accidentally spilled some on my arm.
The reaction was immediate.

My arm whipped out to the side, throwing the pot across the room. For a moment, my arm looked like it didn’t have any bones; rippling like a skin-covered liquid. It made me think of it not as a part of me, but as an alien thing attached to my shoulder.
And for a brief moment, in the blink of a heartbeat, I could see my fingers grow and shrink. Fingernails throbbing, like a cat throwing up a hair ball.
Suddenly, it stopped. Looking back, I could see one of my co-workers watching me from the other side of the room. She must’ve heard the crash.
“You alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, just got a burn,” I sighed. “I’ll, uh… I’ll be fine.”
She side-eyed the broken pot on the other side of the room and nodded. Not entirely convinced.

As soon as she left, I looked down on my hand as if shying away from a wild animal. It was alien to me. It was something… other. A twitch was one thing, but this was downright unnatural.
Coming home that night, I had a weekend ahead of me. I ran my symptoms through a couple of online services. While there are a few ways the human body can trick itself, like the alien hand syndrome, or phantom pains, this was different. Physical properties do not rapidly change. Then again, maybe I was imagining it?
I decided to do something crazy. An experiment. I wanted to recreate what’d happened in the break room.

I boiled up some water and poured it into a cup. I held my left hand over my sink, grabbing the cup with my right. I stood there, trying to calm myself. I wasn’t insane. This was a rational thought that I had to play out in order to eliminate an outlandish possibility.
I prepped a cold pack and ran the tap. Then, taking a deep breath, I poured some of the boiling water on my left hand.

Twelve fingers.
My hand split into twelve fingers, lined with raw, open wounds. My wrist rolled, like a cobra fixing its eyes on a prey animal. This was no longer an arm – it was a nest of flesh-colored snakes.
My mind blanked. I fell backwards, smacking at my arm as if trying to kill it. I couldn’t feel a thing. It’s as if all sense of touch ended at my shoulder. I crawled backwards on the floor, trying to wave my arm away, but it clung to me like a parasite fixed on my shoulder.
Seconds later, a searing pain ran up my arm. Looking down on my hand, it looked as it always had. It was just a hand with a burn. I could barely feel it through the pounding in my chest. Every noise in the room was overshadowed by my pulse.
I ran my hand under a tap and wrapped a cold pack around the wrist. It wasn’t a bad burn, but it wasn’t nothing.

I did some research, looking up news from around the time my accident took place. There were a couple of reports, but nothing out of the ordinary. A domestic call, a brawl at a local restaurant, a couple of missing pets. There were a couple of other reports, but they were short and didn’t lead anywhere. A mention of a couple disturbances. Some idiot blasting music in a parking lot.
But there was one more thing I noticed. In one of the reports covering my accident, there was a picture of the car. There was spatter of the blood on the hood, with something meaty stuck in the grille – as if I’d hit an animal.
That caught my interest. I couldn’t remember hitting anything, so what the hell was that about?

The next day, my arm was acting up even worse. It kept going cold, as if circulation was cutting in and out. Before heading out, I wrapped it up in bandages. Partly because of the cold sensation and partly because I just didn’t trust it. There was no way to tell what could happen, or why.
I managed to get a hold of the owner of the junkyard where my trashed car had been towed. I went over there early in the day, just before the fog cleared.
Now, this was long after the car had been crushed and stored, but it was the only lead I had. An older woman greeted me at the gates, letting me in. We had a short chat about the accident as she showed me around, ending up at a stack of metal that could hardly be recognized as anything. The only thing to even hint at my car being in that pile was a thin slice of colored metal from one of the doors.

I dug around there for about 20 minutes; all while being observed by this old woman.
“Yeah, won’t find much,” she said. “If the police didn’t get it, the insurance folks did.”
“Been a lot of people digging around?”
“Not a lot, nah,” she said, shaking her head. “But you ain’t the first.”
And she was right. There wasn’t a drop of blood, or bone, or anything. It was just scrap metal in a pile of even more scrap metal. I was wasting my time.

But as I was about to leave, I noticed something. I hadn’t thought about it, but I could see the old woman was wearing a ring. It looked like a wedding ring at first, but she was wearing it on the wrong finger. I pointed to it.
"You found that?"
"What about it?" she asked.
"It’s got a tune engraved on the inside, right? Like, a, uh… music note?”
There was no response. She just looked at me and sighed. Turns out, I was right. She gave it back.

She’d found it near the hood of the car the night they brought it in. Grabbing it was just a spur of the moment thing, and since no one had come asking for it, she’d kept it. I was a bit annoyed, but mostly relieved that I got it back. But the question remained, how had that ended up at the hood of the car?
“There was all kinds of gunk just kinda hanging there,” she said. “Figured it was an animal.”
“And you’re sure that’s where you found it?”
“Sure as sure can be, yeah.”
I stood there for a moment, feeling an uncomfortable thought forming in the back of my head. There was no way for that ring to go from my broken arm on the driver’s side to a pile of meat stuck in the grille of the car.

But the proof of it had been in front of me all along. I had worn that ring for 12 years. There was a permanent indent on my finger.
Looking down at my left hand, there was no such indent.
This wasn’t my arm.

As soon as that thought settled in my mind, I could feel the arm twist and turn. Hadn’t it been for the bandages, there’s no way to tell what it would’ve done. It squirmed and pulled against me, thrashing like a dying fish on land. The old woman just looked at me.
“You alright? Want me to call someone?” she asked.
“I-I… I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know.”
I had to get to the bottom of this. I hurried out of there as fast as I could.

It was getting late in the afternoon when I got back home. Grabbing an old backpack and a couple of painkillers, I was about to head right back out. But a thought hit me. Maybe it wasn’t as abstract as I thought. Maybe it wasn’t just a feeling – maybe something was really there.
Looking down at my arm, I could feel it stirring, just within my control. Something sleeping, waiting to spring into action. With my right hand on the front door, I stopped, and spoke out loud.
“Whatever you want, just… don’t,” I asked. “Don’t.”
There was no response. No stirring. On a spur-of-the-moment whim, I packed one more thing into my backpack. Just in case. A hail Mary.

Making my way to the scene of the accident, it was impossible to tell anything had ever happened there. I could barely even make out the place where I swerved, or where my wheel got caught in the ditch. I found the general area in the field where my car had spun out of control, and from there it was easy to find the tree I’d smashed into. It was still there.
I spent hours going over it all. Following the path the car had taken, starting from that tree, and working my way back. There was nothing there. Nothing new. It was all just gravel, weeds, and pavement. What had I expected? A signed confession?
As the sun dipped behind the clouds, I could feel a cold wind coming on. I’d lost track of time.

As I turned back, there was a sudden cramp in my arm. A shock of pain crept up my spine, spreading throughout my body like a spider’s web. I could feel my left arm throbbing against the bandage wrap. Something was wrong.
I was in the middle of the field. I could see for miles in every direction. Cars passing by in the distance. Wet grass staining my pants all the way up to my knees. And this one cold wind, cutting straight through my clothes. I shivered, but my left arm didn’t.
Taking a step back towards where I came from, another shot of pain struck me. This one tripped me, sending me face first into the grass. It knocked the air out of my lungs.
I rolled over on my back, gasping for breath. My left hand was creeping up my stomach like a spider with a meaty tail. It stopped over my face, tapping the bridge of my nose with the index finger. I couldn’t feel a thing. Moving to push it off, it instead struck back; grasping my right hand in return.
“Stop,” I wheezed as I sat back up. “Just stop. Stop this.”
But it didn’t. I just sat there. A wounded man holding his arms.

I struggled back and forth for well over half an hour. Getting back on my feet, only to get knocked back down. By the time I’d made my way back to the road, I looked like I’d been hiking for miles. My hair was a mess, and my clothes were covered in grass and mud. I had a handprint across my face, like I’d smacked myself.
I’d trusted myself with a short drive to get there, but I wasn’t sure about going back. It felt reckless to get behind a wheel in my state. Still, I couldn’t just walk all the way back home, and having it towed would be a pain in the ass.
I got back in my car while I thought about it, wiping myself off with a towel from my backpack.

It’d gotten dark outside. The overcast didn’t help, I could almost taste the rain. I contemplated my options and figured that if I kept it slow and only used my right arm, I could carefully make my way home. I put the keys in and turned on the headlights.
There was an elk standing in front of my car.
It sniffed the hood of my car curiously, then proceeded to stare me down. I was just surprised. I got a good look at it. There was something wrong with one of its hind legs – it lacked fur, and there was a sort of spreading baldness reaching halfway up the side of the body.
My arm was slowly rising on its own, as if looking over the dashboard. The elk recoiled, as if in pain, and set off in a troubled three-legged gallop. It disappeared into the woods.

Looking down at my arm, a stray thought hit me.
Was this spreading too?

I painstakingly made my way back home. I dropped my backpack in the hallway, locked my front door, and collapsed into the shower. I was exhausted.
I stood in the shower for about half an hour, looking down at my mother’s ring. I was wearing it on my right hand now, but it just didn’t feel the same. That wasn’t where it was meant to be. Still, it was nice to have it back. Whenever I turned the ring a little, I could feel the engraving against my skin. It was a little gesture I did when I was anxious, as a reminder that it was still there.
I got dressed and ready for a slow evening at home without any further drama. My arm wasn’t acting up. But as I passed through the hallway, something didn’t feel right.

At first, I couldn’t say what it was. Maybe the hum of an old lamp, or some air duct acting up. I wasn’t sure, but it was something. It had to be. I stepped up to the front door.
There used to be a light coming from the hallway outside. That light was always on, and there should be a little light coming in through the peephole. But there wasn’t. Had a fuse blown? I had a closer look.
There was someone just outside my door.

A click.
My left hand had unlocked the door.

The door flung open, knocking me back. A tall silhouette, close to seven feet tall, pushed its way into my apartment. It was dressed in a sort of black poncho, covering its face with layers of bandages. A single frog-like eye stared me down as it pushed forward.
I scrambled backwards on the floor. It was fast. Damn fast. It stepped forward and reached for one of my legs, but I managed to pull away in time. I got back on my feet, barely managing to pull my left arm along. It was trying to grab a hold of something, as if to slow me down.
In a spur-of-the-moment decision I grabbed a lamp from the windowsill, throwing it across the room. The intruder ducked, then came at me again. I ducked under, just in time, and headed for the door.

As I reached the front door, my left arm tried to force it shut. I fought against myself to get out, but it was useless. The door was shut and locked, and my left hand refused to budge. The seven-foot-tall shape came around the corner, slowly approaching. I had to think of something. Anything.
My backpack. It was right there.

I had packed a couple of things earlier. A towel, some bandages, painkillers, and a water bottle. But I’d also packed some lighter fluid. Seeing as how my left arm had reacted so violently to boiling water, I had this stupid idea that the prospect of a straight-up fire would do something even worse to it.
It didn’t seem so stupid anymore.
I grabbed the lighter fluid and sprinkled it on my left arm. The tall shape stopped, seemingly reacting to the smell of it.
I wanted to say something, but all that came out were empty breaths. We were like animals, circling each other, waiting for one to make the first move. I emptied the lighter fluid, grabbing a box of matches. I held the box with my mouth, and a triplicate of matches in my hand. I spilled the rest on the floor.

For a moment, we just looked at one another. A single inhuman eye peeking through the bandage wraps. The vague shape of four, maybe five extremities at its side. How many arms did this thing hide under the poncho?
A flash of realization came to me. This is what I had almost hit with my car.

And with that, I lit the matches. It leapt at me, but it was too late.
The moment the open flame touched the skin on my left arm, it detached. The open nerves just let go of me, and the thing fell off my body. It squirmed on the floor like a dying animal, grasping at whatever its fingers could reach.
Adrenaline forced me out the door. A heartbeat behind me, the seven-foot-tall figure scooped up my burning arm and pushed past me. Within seconds, it was gone – leaving me with an open wound in the stairwell, smelling of lighter fluid.

One of the neighbors called for help. I didn’t even notice how much blood I was losing, but it was bad. They sent me back into emergency surgery; this time without an arm to reattach.
It was deemed that the wound was self-inflicted. A result of some stress-induced psychosis. I wanted to agree, but I saw what I saw. I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise, but I lived this. This wasn’t any other life but mine.
I’ve since learned to live with a full prosthetic. It’s not much, but I can trust it, and I can wear my mother’s ring the way it was supposed to be. It’s starting to make an indent on the synthetic skin.

I don’t like to think about what would’ve happened if I’d let that thing stay on. But just a couple of weeks ago, I got an answer. I was stuck in traffic, looking out over the fields, when I saw a group of elks in the distance.
One of them had no fur.
None at all.

Made an chanceme post 5 months ago, here's the results of my application!
Demographics

• Gender: Male
• Race/Ethnicity: Chinese
• Residence: domestic, suburbs
• Income Bracket: ~120k (a little less)
• Type of School: non-feeder public
• Hooks (Recruited Athlete, URM, First-Gen, Geographic, Legacy, etc.): None
• Intended Major (s): Biology/Computational Biology/Data Science/Bioinformatics
• GPA (UW/W): 97.91/100 UW, 102.48/100 W
• Rank (or percentile): n/a, but probably top 15-20/520, so top 3-4%
• Honors/AP/B/Dual Enrollment/etc: 4 APs, 7 IBs (3 HL, 3 SL, 1 TOK), 2 Dual Enrollment
• Senior Year Course Load: IB HL Math Analysis (also doubles as AP Calc BC), IB HL History, IB HL Literature, IB SL French, IB SL Music, IB Theory of Knowledge (TOK), Science Research, Symphonic Band

Notes: I'm also an IB Diploma Candidate - my CAS Project was a book drive for a children's hospital, and my EE was on music composition. All my of IB HL courses were two-year courses
Standardized Testing

• SAT: 1540 superscore, 760 English, 780 Math
• ACT: None
• AP/IB: AP Chinese (5), AP World History (5), AP Music Theory (4), AP Calc BC (5, manifesting), IB Physics SL (4)
• Other (ex. IELTS, TOEFL, etc.): N/A

Awards/Honors (Mentioned in Honors section and Additional Information)

1. Two co-author cancer publications (International x2)
2. New York State Science and Engineering Fair (NYSSEF) 2nd Place (State)
3. Unnamed regional science fair 2nd place, Regional JSHS fair 3rd place (Regional)
4. PSAT Commended, Ap Scholar (National)
5. Top Cohort, High Honor Roll (School)
6. Top 15 badminton players in my region (Regional)
7. Pit Orchestra "Best Pit" and "Best Musical" awards from a local music award (Local)
8. Misc. local swimming awards (Top 12 in event), not rlly that important (Local)
9. Toshiba EXPLROAVISION Science Competition Honorable Mention (Regional)
10. 1st Place at regional jazz competition for jazz piano (Regional)
11. "Best Piano Player" Award from school (School)

Extracurriculars/Activites
**Extracurriculars are not ranked by importance here, just grouped by category**
1 - Memorial Sloan Kettering (MSK) Cancer Center Internship (Two summers, sophomore and junior year, and got paid a little bit for it) shadowed attendings, did computational research. Got a letter of rec from my mentor thanks to this! I also ended up getting to co-author publications thanks to this, but neither are fully published yet (probably hurt me in the admissions process bc I could only say they were submitted)
2 - Varsity Badminton Captain, four year starter, #1 doubles ranking in my school. I'm also a volunteer counselor at the summer badminton camp for our school. Named top 15 players in my region (Long Island). While I was on the team, we also were the County Champs runner ups, 2x League Champions, and created history by reaching the County Finals for both the boys and girls team (can you tell i love badminton)
3 - Organized weekly community badminton training sessions at the local YMCA for the past three years. I also help train current and prospective Varsity players alongside my doubles partner, and actively train at a badminton center where I participate in tournaments. Honestly, despite all the high school stuff, I still have a lot to improve at in this sport. Hopefully I'll find time in college.
4 - Varsity Fencing (for the school), we won League and County Championships, and were 2nd on Long Island. I was a starter for foil. I only did this for a year, but was still a ton of fun.
5 - Competitive Swimming (7 years) - competed in independent swim clubs, I qualified for this huge meet in Maryland that got cancelled cuz of COVID... then I quit swimming bc it made me depressed. Go figure.
6 - Marching Band Drum Major (and former trumpet section leader), I did Marching Band all four years of HS, I also help run the Pep Band during the off-season and got featured on a local newspaper!
7 - High School Select Ensembles - 2nd chair trumpet player, 1st chair pianist, and tenor for Wind Ensemble, Pit Orchestra (School Musical), Chamber Chorus, Jazz Band, and Jazz Messengers (smaller version of Jazz Band and invite only, we play at fundraisers and community events, we got featured on local news once, that was cool) I had to audition to join each of these ensembles, and had 2 hr rehearsals for each of them once a week after school. Thank goodness they were all on different days and didn't overlap too much. Concert nights were brutal tho but I love music so what can I say.
8 - TRI-M Music Honor Society President... except I actually had to do a lot of work - reached out to local elderly homes and community library to organize music events where students could sign up to perform in the community. (I've been president for two years, a member ever since 7th grade)
9 - President's Council - Student government group, but only for presidents of honor societies - we often go to leadership conferences and we meet with building administration to pretty much give input on things we can improve within the school. We also organize an annual festival at the end of the school year (we literally cancel class and organize events for students to go to instead, so it's like a huge community-oriented celebration)
10 - Chinese Culture - I've been attending a Chinese School that rents out a building at a local university, where I've been learning Chinese since kindergarten (I'm fluent now). I also was a TA for the Children's Chorus at the Chinese school, sang Peking Opera and Chinese music at annual performances, was a master of ceremony for some of those very same performances, and briefly hosted some episodes of the Chinese School Children's Podcast. I also went to a culture exchange camp in China (summer before COVID) where I performed a Peking Opera piece and got interviewed by a local CCTV news station. I was extremely privileged to even get that opportunity, as my Chinese school had offered it to us all-expenses paid.
Essay/Letter of Rec:
Common App Essay on activity #3 (Community Badminton), I made it very cute, our group was named the Badminton Besties and I talked about how I wanted to promote the sport more within the school and community, and the challenges I had to overcome before settling down at the YMCA, and how I never originally expected to be asked to train other people but slowly began to appreciate it.
Not the greatest essay though - this essay will neither make nor break my application, but badminton is definitely a unique topic for me.
Math Teacher LoR: He wrote a lot of LoRs, I think his letter is good but not outstanding or anything. 6.5/10
Band Teacher LoR: I've known her for four years, she cooked rlly hard on her letter however I prioritized her letter lower bc music isn't a "core" subject. 9/10
Stanford Alumni LoR: He was the attending doctor and my mentor for research when I was at MSK. 10/10
Counselor LoR: Better than the math teachers LoR I think, me and my counselor are pretty tight. 8.5/10
Supplements:
I slaved away for hours and hours each week to write them. Of course I was then able to repurpose them for many schools (THANK GOD) Overall, solid 7/10, just felt like some of them didn't make me stand out enough, but I just wrote about things that genuinely showcased me as a person.
Interviews
MIT- 10/10 loved by interviewer, he was a older guy with a lot of great stories to tell. We chatted for like 3 hours inside the Panera until the sun set. Great guy!
Princeton - 8/10 really nice interviewer who was a doctor at a hospital not far away from me. We talked about Princeton's clubs, campus life, and webtoons!
UPenn- 8/10 my interviewer was a really young student who just graduated, he showed me his pet cat (it climbed in front of his camera lol), talked a lot about our favorite foods
Harvard- 6/10 it was ok, my interviewer was nice but clearly not very interested. He was a masters graduate from Harvard, not undergrad, so it was kinda hard to talk to him and ask him questions about what the undergrad experience was like. He also sort of just rapid fired questions at me.
Stanford - 8/10 super cool dude, this guy was so well rounded and I got to talk to him about my math IA (he was really into math), what the food and student life in Palo Alto was like, sports, and music.
Duke - 7.5/10 interviewer responded to my email 3 hours before the actual interview... we did it by phone call instead of via Zoom, and ig Duke interviews are only 30 minutes long, unlike the other ones which were around 45 minutes. However, the actual interview went REALLY well, it was clear she just understood me. I talked about the things that truly made me happy, like jazz and badminton. I talked about how I enjoyed science research a lot, particularly presenting (which many people probably dread). She talked about the Duke student life with me a lot, and we got through a lot of stuff in 30 minutes!
The only weird thing was that she asked me where I ED'd to (nowhere), and asked me what my top choice was. I actually took a HUGE risk with my answer - I told her that Duke was one of my top 3 schools, but in no particular order because I don't feel like there's only one school where I can be happy, successful, or satisfied at. Duke was one of those schools to me, one where the weather, student life, campus, and academics are great, and that it was a school I could try imagine myself (something I could not say for many of the colleges I applied to). I think she genuinely appreciated the honesty though.
**Final thing about Duke's interviews - apparently not everyone gets interviews anymore, and they are given only to students they need more information for**
Decisions
**I DID NOT ED ANYWHERE, and all schools were RD unless specified EA*\*
Rejections

• All ivies I applied to (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, UPenn, Cornell, Columbia)
• Stanford
• MIT
• Northeastern (deferred EA -> rejected RD)
• USC (deferred EA -> rejected RD)
• NYU
• UC Berkeley
• UC Santa Barbara

Waitlists

• UCLA
• UC Irvine (Withdrew)
• Boston University (Withdrew)

Acceptances

• Duke (waitlisted -> accepted)
• UMich LSA Honors (Accepted EA)
• UC San Diego
• Rutgers with 15k scholarship (Accepted EA)
• Fordham with 45k scholarship (Accepted EA)
• University of Illinois Chicago (UIC) with 8k a year (Accepted EA)
• SUNY Bing with 5k a year (Accepted EA)
• SUNY Buffalo with 5k a year

13 rejections, 3 waitlists, and 8 acceptances later... I am now committed to Duke Trinity College of Arts and Sciences for biology!!! (Originally committed to UMich but withdrew)
Final Thoughts
All you need is one! I was incredibly lucky to have gotten off the Duke waitlist, as it was my top choice after getting rejected from the other schools. I was already satisfied going to UMich, but now that Duke accepted me, go Blue Devils!
To all high school students out there stressing about college - remember that you define your own worth, and that in the end, you should attend a university that is both financially a good fit, but also a school that you know you will be happy at. I know that for me, comparison was the biggest thief of joy. Don't let yourself get dragged down too much by the accomplishments of others, because everyone moves at their own pace. However, if you put in the time and effort, results will inevitably follow. I was a good student, but never the smartest. It took me hours upon hours to studying to get the SAT score I wanted, and a lot of the time I spent on my ECs and internship came at the cost of my relationships with friends and family.
Good luck to everyone!! If you have questions for me, please feel free to reach out and DM!!

Ladies, gentlemen, and interstellar enthusiasts of all ages, buckle up! Today, we're cruising through the cosmic playground where the science of the heavens crashes the party at the art studio. I'm your host, the verbal alchemist who makes Shakespeare and Snoop Dogg sound like old school chums. Grab your space helmets and a tub of popcorn because we're diving headfirst into the wacky world of astrological soundscapes. It's like mixing a Spotify playlist with a NASA mission—bizarre yet brilliant!
Imagine, if you will, a universe where Beethoven meets Neil deGrasse Tyson at a rave. That's right, we're turning the esoteric, I mean, astronomical data into sick beats that even your grandma can jam to at bingo night. Composers today aren't just messing around with violins and pianos. No, sir! They're using the actual movements of planets and the frequencies of starlight to compose tunes. This isn't your average music theory class; it's a full-blown cosmic concert.
Let’s take a stroll down our solar system. You know how each planet has its own orbit? Well, some sonic genius decided to translate those orbits into musical scores. It's like assigning each planet a DJ turntable. Mars drops the bass, Jupiter thumps the percussion, and Venus? Well, she's all about that high-pitched electronica. Together, they're not just a solar system; they're a band on a galactic tour!
But how do they do it, you ask? It's all about data, baby. Scientists use telescopes and other nifty gadgets to snatch up all that juicy cosmic info. They measure the light, the speed, and even the 'moods' of these celestial bodies. Then, our maestro composers take this data and turn it into a language we all understand: music. It's like translating alien speak into human bops.
Now, let's get specific and talk about one such project that’s as viral as the latest dance challenge on TikTok. Picture this: a composer sits in a dark room surrounded by screens showing graphs and numbers that look like the stock market on steroids. This isn't just any composer; think of a figure as iconic as Hans Zimmer wearing an astronaut helmet. He's not scoring for a blockbuster; he's scoring the universe. The project? Turning the rhythm of planetary orbits into a music album titled "Galactic Grooves."
Each track corresponds to a different planet. Mercury’s got quick, snappy beats—think techno on a triple espresso. Venus is more sensual, with a smooth, flowing rhythm like silk on skin. Earth is the baseline, literally, with grounded, deep tones that resonate with anyone sporting a heartbeat.
But wait, there’s more! Ever heard of the Starlight Frequencies project? It's where starlight becomes the lead singer. Scientists measure the frequency of light from distant stars—their color and intensity—and our composer turns these into melodies. If a star is pulsing with a red light, you might hear a deep, jazzy saxophone wail. A bright blue pulsar? That’s your high-energy, electronic synth.
Imagine you're listening to these tracks on your headphones. With every note, you're literally hearing the universe. It's a soundtrack composed by nature itself, refined by human creativity. It’s like catching the whispers of the cosmos—oops, almost slipped with the "W" word there! Let’s say it’s like eavesdropping on the universe’s private conversations.
And why stop at music? This mashup of science and art isn’t just for the ears; it’s a full sensory overload. Think about live shows with laser lights synched to the music, mimicking the pulsations of the stars themselves. You're not at a concert; you're at a cosmic exhibition.
But here’s the kicker: what if we throw in a few extraterrestrial sounds? Yeah, you heard that right. Imagine weaving—dang, there’s that word again—incorporating some alleged signals from potential alien communications. Now, that’s a track that would have even the most stoic scientist throwing hands up at a rave.
So, there you have it, folks. Astrological soundscapes are where the vastness of the universe meets the creativity of the human mind. It’s not just about listening to music; it’s about experiencing the rhythm of the cosmos. From the spinning of the planets to the twinkling of stars, everything in the universe has a beat, waiting to be transformed into a beat you can groove to.
As we wrap up this interstellar jam session, remember: the next time you look up at the night sky, you’re not just star-gazing; you're previewing the biggest concert of the millennium. And who knows? Maybe in the future, we'll all be jamming to the sound of a black hole at the club. Now, wouldn’t that be something to tweet about?
So keep your eyes on the stars and your ears on the ground because the universe has more secrets to reveal, and trust me, they’re bound to be music to your ears.

As someone who has a bachelor's degree in music with a specialisation in film music, I would like to post a list of all the free sample libraries I know. I'm doing this because there are more and more of them, whereas when I first started dabbling in composing and producing, there were virtually none and I had to buy everything.
First of all, I would like to point out that most of the libraries are best suited for use in a DAW (digital audio workstation), also known as a sequencer. They can be used in notations software if it allows it, but this requires some deep knowledge of how to make it possible. Notation software where it is possible are Dorico, Sibelius and MuseScore. I mention this so explicitly because I have the impression that most people here only write music with such programmes and I don't want them to be disappointed afterwards because the libraries don't work as desired in their notation software.
So, now to the list of all the free sample libraries I know. I'm sure I don't know all of them out there, as I mainly work with paid libraries, so please feel free to add any not mentioned ones in the comments.
8Dio: * 1928 Steinway Piano (probably only temporarily free of charge, as normally subject to a charge) * Polyphon (big music box) * Free Angels (sound collection) * Free Radicals (sound collection) * Free Home (sound collection) * Free ASMR (sound collection) * Ambient Guitar * Songwriting Guitar * Smiley Drum (tongue drum) * Post-Apocalyptic Guitar * Free You (sound collection) * Cajon and Bongo * Copperphone (copper tubular bells) * Mini (small toys/items as percussion instruments) * Hybrid Rhythms (hybrid drum loops, usually subject to charge)
It is important to note that these libraries require the paid-for sampler Kontakt, not the free version Kontakt Player.
Soundpaint (8Dio): * Most of the ones mentioned before * Adastra Ambiences (ambient string sounds) * Guitar Triggers (uniquely played guitars) * Percussion Triggers (uniquely played percussion)
Soundpaint is a brand of 8Dio. Libraries published under this name run in the free eponymous sampler, which can be downloaded from the website.
Orchestral Tools: * Orchestral Tools has released too many free libraries under the name "SINEfactory" to list them all here. Most of the instruments can be found in the orchestra, but there are also a few big band samples and a guitar. I would particularly like to emphasise "Dynamo" because it is quite an extensive percussion library by "free standards" and comes with some unique articulations.
The libraries run in the free in-house sampler called SINE. They can also be downloaded from here.
Spitfire Audio: * BBC Symphony Orchestra Discover (slimmed-down version of the BBC Symphony Orchestra)
It runs in SA‘s free in-house sampler.
Spitfire Audio LABS: * Spitfire offers even more free sample libraries than Orchestral Tools, which is why listing them all would be even more absurd. These are mostly experimental sounds that can give compositions a unique touch.
LABS libraries also run via a free in-house sampler.
Pianobook: * Pianobook is run by Spitfire Audio and is a platform where anyone can publish their own sample libraries. It is more or less a community project for those who want to take their first steps in sampling and try their hand at it. There are therefore too many to list here.
The libraries are published for various samplers (simultaneously), including free ones such as sfz (sforzando).
Vienna Symphonic Library: * Big Bang Orchestra – Free Basics (epic ensemble) * Free Celestial Strings (softly and ethereally played strings) * Fujara Flute (deeply sampled fujara flute from Slovakia) * Harp Glissandos * Small Percussion (percussion that can be hand-held) * Soft Imperial (softly played Bösendorfer Imperial grand piano) * Violin Runs
VSL's libraries also run in free in-house samplers, in this case the Synchron Player.
Other providers of some free products that come to mind are Embertone, Native Instruments, ProjectSAM, Strezov Sampling, CineSamples, Sonokinetic and Soniccouture.
If you have never worked with samplers and libraries before, you should familiarise yourself with how to install the products in order to avoid frustration. This always varies slightly depending on the developeprovider. I have had to help many deeply frustrated people who were about to give up because they overlooked some small detail or were inattentive. It's actually not that difficult.
I hope you can do something with this list!

This has been done a million times before, but never to my liking. With this post, I think I have definitively fixed BHN, and once again find myself dreaming of an alternate history where it becomes one of the great rock albums of all time and catapults Oasis into the most important rock band of 1997-98.
In previous posts, people always wonder what if “The Masterplan” had supplanted BHN as Oasis’ third album, but I very much see the songs on that compilation as a product of the Morning Glory era, minus the couple BHN tunes on it. That tour would not have been the same without songs like The Masterplan and Acquiesce. In my opinion, BHN didn’t need those tracks. It had enough quality tracks on its own. The only thing BHN needed at the time in my view is a more steady hand at the production desk, a lot less cocaine and a couple songs exchanged for B-sides.
Disclaimer: Be Here Now is probably my favorite album of all time. I think it’s fine the way it is as a polarizing ode to excess. I think it works well in that regard and stands as easily the most intriguing Oasis album to discuss and dissect. But even I admit in terms of mass, general public appeal, BHN goes too over the top at times and killed Oasis’ chances of successfully topping Morning Glory.
After listening to countless BHN era bootlegs on YouTube, I think Oasis certainly did hit their stride in 1997 and actually did top their sophomore album. I think the following track list is a definitive re-think of BHN that would have been a colossal hit and sold at least double the amount of copies the album ended up selling.
The following format is as follows: Track #/Song title/Suggested Changes/Approximate ideal song length/relevant version (if applicable).
Note: some pervading changes to the album — a more sparse mix with the guitars. this album should have felt like Definitely Maybe on steroids, with Bonehead’s huge rhythm guitar and Noel’s best lead playing to date. Instead, we got a coked up mess. I think every track could have benefitted from less guitar overdubs, so that can be included as a suggested change for about every song, as well as more bass guitar in the mix.
Without further ado, the greatest rock album of the 90s:
BE HERE NOW
Track 1 — Be Here Now: The titular track is easily one of my all-time favorite Oasis songs. It’s bouncy feel and incredible glam rock riff is endlessly listenable. The use of it as an intro to their concerts in ‘97 give the shows a massive, anticipatory feel that makes you believe the biggest band on earth is about to rip the roof off. The album version should have had the keyboard intro the live versions had (along with the toy piano riff. I fucking love that thing), as well as the two opening guitar chords like the G-MEX version before getting into the song. The song also features some of Noel’s best lead playing live. The mix should have featured more sparse guitar with the lead licks Noel played live. I have no issues with the song’s length, as I think with better production, people would be fine with it repeating the verse and chorus again like many other oasis songs. Again, I can’t tell you how much that toy piano sound and the flashing lights at the beginning of those ‘97 shows does for me. Makes it feel massive. ~6 Minutes~ Relevant live version: Live at G-MEX
Track 2 — Stay Young: This should have been a single, featuring the two suggested B-Sides below. It would have been a massive hit. The song needs a more sparse mix (maybe even like this version from the movie The Faculty) and could have easily been cut down into a 3 1/2 minute pop hit. ~3 1/2 minutes. Relevant version: The Faculty Mix.
Track 3 — Stand By Me: The first three songs follow how the band often opened up most concerts in ‘97. I believe this to be one of the best Oasis songs, but it should have been acoustic like the Bonehead’s Outtake version, with the strings already present in the mix being featured prominently (I think the string section is absolutely gorgeous in this song, but too drowned out). Remove one of the choruses to tighten the song up a bit and you have another perfect song. ~4 1/2 minutes. Relevant version: Acoustic by the pool.
Track 4 — Going Nowhere: If Noel wanted one of his vocals on the album, it should’ve been this one. Could’ve followed Stand By Me perfectly and is a much conceptually better song than Magic Pie. No change to song length. ~4 1/2 minutes
Track 5 — My Big Mouth: “This one rocks” as Noel G said at Knebworth, but on the album, it rocks a bit too much. I’d like to see production similar to that of the Mustique Demo version, especially with the Noel backing vocals on the outro more prominent in the mix. With a more sparse, driving guitar where you can actually hear the riff more clearly, it’s take the song to the stratosphere, especially with one of Liam’s best vox. Should’ve been half the length, too. ~4 minutes. Relevant version: Mustique demo (Liam Vox)
Track 6 — I Hope, I Think, I Know: This one is pretty much perfect the way it is. Could’ve maybe been a single. ~4 1/2 minutes.
Track 7 — Don’t Go Away: Again, pretty much perfect. I would’ve even been down for a true full acoustic version, akin to a Wonderwall or Cast No Shadow. ~5 minutes.
Track 8 — D’You Know What I Mean?: People often cite the NG rethink version of this song as the better version, but I hard disagree. This is the one where I want it to be overproduced. Maybe tone the guitars down a bit, but not too much. The NG version stripped away too much. This song is supposed to have an apocalyptic feel with guitars raining down everywhere. Maybe the best song on the album. ~7 1/2 minutes
Track 9 — Setting Sun/Fade In-Out: Two ideas for this one: the studio version should’ve either been like the live versions that are just out of this world, or alternatively, it would’ve been incredible had they included a different version of Setting Sun on the album and did it like how they performed it at Budokan ‘98, complete with the fade from setting sun into Fade In-Out (not to mention the psychedelic sitar and bongos), but with Liam on vocals. Would’ve been MEGA. The studio version as it stands is quite forgettable, but the vocals are great. ~10 minutes. Relevant live version: ‘98 Budokan and ‘97 Earls Court
Track 10 — It’s Gettin’ Better Man!!: Basically, this studio version should’ve replicated the live take from Air Studios in ‘97 and as much I love the 42 “it’s getting better man’s,” this could easily have two minutes shaved off it. ~5 1/2 minutes. Relevant version: Live at Air Studios ‘97
Track 11 — All Around the World: Album closer, no reprise. As far as song structure and length, would’ve liked it to have been more like the mustique demo. As far as production, if it had the same feel and Noel guitar outro as the live versions, we’re talking about one of the best songs in their catalogue. It could’ve used a better vocal from Liam, too. He sounds hungover on this song. With those changes, it’s the hit it was meant to be and an amazing end to an amazing album. ~7 minutes. Relevant live version: Live at GMEX and Hammerstein is amazing too.
TOTAL RUNTIME ~62 minutes (9 minutes less than released album. About 59 minutes if you take out my setting sun idea).
NEW B-SIDES FOR STAY YOUNG — THE SINGLE THAT NEVER WAS: I’ve decided Stay Young should’ve been the second single after DYKWIM, and these are its B-Sides: 1. Magic Pie: Full disclosure: I love magic pie. It’s unironically one of my favorite oasis songs, especially because of the guitar solo in the second half of the song, and it’s one of my favorite vocals from Noel. It’s fine just the way it is, though I think it would’ve been much cooler if it were called “Magic High” or “Magic Ride.” “Pie” is a bit lame, I submit, but I choose to believe it’s some Beatles-Ian psychedelic imagery. Nonetheless, this would’ve been better as a B-Side. 2. The Girl in the Dirty Shirt: This song contains a lot of elements I love — it’s a Liam and Noel acoustic song, it’s got a good chorus and it is one of the few lesser produced songs on the album. I like it better as a strong B-Side than as an album track. 3. Cast No Shadow (Live at Knebworth): Cool live choice they could’ve used to throw on at the end of the single. Amazing performance from a historic gig.
CONCLUSION
This post went on longer than the actual album. For those still here, you don’t have anything better to do? I thank you for reading. This version of the album is a massive improvement over the finished product. If we had a more sparse production, say that of The La’s only album or even the recent GallagheSquire output — imagine those great riffs Noel was belting out on this tour more clear, complete with Bonehead’s driving guitar, Whitey’s smooth drums, Guigsy’s reliable bass (turned up of course) and of course Liam’s snarl, we’re talking about an album that lives up to its cover art — big, bombastic, and unstoppable.
Anyway, here’s Wonderwall I’m gonna go watch Live at the Budokan ‘98, Live at Hammerstein ‘97, Live at GMEX ‘97, Live at Oakland ‘97 —
You get the point.
Cheers.

First, congratulations to all the new Hokie graduates! And, Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's in town. With that said, here's a rundown of weekend fun you can enjoy in Blacksburg and across the New River Valley whether your a new grad, mom or just hanging out in the Burg.
Weekend Rundown of Fun: 1. 2024 Spring Carnival Friday, May 10, 2024, 5:00 - 11:00 PM, Saturday, May 11, 2024, 1:00 - 11:00 PM, Sunday, May 12, 2024, 1:00 - 10:00 PM Admission: Free Ride Tickets: $1.25 each and each ride takes multiple tickets, Unlimited Ride Wristbands: $25.00 per session Uptown Christiansburg (formerly New River Valley Mall) presents the 2024 Spring Carnival from Cole Shows Amusement Company starting on Thursday, May 2, 2024 continuing through Sunday, May 12, 2024. Enjoy amusement park rides, game booths, food and fun for the whole family. There is no gate fee. Unlimited wristbands are valid for one session which is 5:00-11:00 PM on Monday-Friday and either 1:00-6:00 PM or 5:00 PM to Close on Saturday and Sunday. Note: Hours are weather dependent. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777014
2. Throwback Double Feature: Shrek and Shrek 2 Starlite Drive-In Theatre, Christiansburg Friday, May 10, 2024 and Saturday, May 11, 2024, 8:30 - 11:40 PM Adults: $10.00, Kids Ages 6-12: $6.00, Kids Ages 5 & Under: Free The Starlite Drive-In Theatre presents a Throwback Double Feature featuring "Shrek" and "Shrek 2". "Shrek" is a 2001 animated film and "Shrek 2" is a 2004 animated film. Both films star the voices of Mike Myers, Eddie Murphy, and Cameron Diaz and are rated PG. Gates open at 6:30 PM and the first movie is expected to start around 8:30 PM. Concessions will be available for purchase. Cash or card accepted. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777372
3. College Baseball: Miami vs. Virginia Tech English Field, Virginia Tech Friday, May 10, 2024, 7:00 PM, Saturday, May 11, 2024, 7:00 PM, Sunday, May 12, 2024, 1:00 PM General Public: $10.00, Youth: $5.00 Watch the Virginia Tech Baseball Team compete against ACC conference opponent Miami in their three-game home series. Saturday will serve as Senior Day for all the senior Hokie players with a pre-game ceremony. On Sunday, there will be a special giveaway featuring flowers for all the mothers. It's also the Freshmen Class Trading Card Giveaway with post-game autographs with the freshmen class players, weather permitting. There will also be a Post-game Kids Run the Bases opportunity, weather permitting. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=776512
4. The Red Ferns and Smooth Brain in Concert The Milk Parlor, Blacksburg Friday, May 10, 2024, 8:30 PM - 12:00 AM Admission: $5.00 The Red Ferns is a groovy guitar band and Smooth Brain is a four-piece rock band. Both band are from Blacksburg, VA. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777365 5. Blacksburg Farmers Market with Music from Fats Holler Market Square Park, Blacksburg Saturday, May 11, 2024, 8:00 AM - 2:00 PM Admission: Free The Blacksburg Farmers Market offers local meats, organic produce, baked goods, crafts, flowers and more in the heart of downtown Blacksburg. Fats Holler will performer from 9:30-11:30 AM. Fats Holler is a new group, formed in 2022, of seasoned musicians from the New River Valley. Having a repertoire primarily of music from the 1910's-1930's, they are bringing the sounds of old New Orleans to Southwest Virginia. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777386
6. Scottish Highland Games Clinic YMCA of Pulaski County, Pulaski Saturday, May 11, 2024, 9:00 AM - 2:00 PM Admission: $25.00 Join the YMCA's very own instructor and professional Highland Game athlete Jonathan Harding to learn what it takes to compete in your first Highland Games. The goal of this event is to cover all nine events during the clinic. Jonathan was invited to the World Highland Games in 2023 and finished 7th overall! All skill levels welcome. Whether you are a beginner or a Highland Game athlete looking to improve on your technique, there will be something to gain. All proceeds from this clinic will go support the the YMCA's 2024 Highland Games Competition. For ages 15 and up. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777406
7. 2024 New River Valley Master Gardener Association Plant Sale Montgomery County Government Center, Christiansburg Saturday, May 11, 2024, 9:00 AM - 2:00 PM Admission: Free The New River Valley Master Gardener Association (NRVMGA) Plant Sale will be offering native plants, vegetables, annuals, herb, perennials, trees, shrubs and house plants. Many plants are grown by NRVMGA members and others are donated by retailers, individuals and organizations from throughout the area. There will also be a "garden supply/treasure area" with gardening related items for sale. The Plant Clinic will be on-site to answer your questions, problem plant issues, or gardening concerns. There will also be a selection of free seeds to give away to help support pollinators in our area. All proceeds fund our Community Grants Program which provides funding for educational gardening projects throughout the New River Valley. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=776743
8. Mustangs of the New River Valley Car Show Clayton Homes of Dublin, Dublin Saturday, May 11, 2024, 9:00 AM - 3:00 PM Admission: Free Clayton Homes of Dublin presents Mustangs of the New River Valley Car Show and a chance to check out their homes. Enjoy the Countryman Jamaican Grill food truck, sweet rides, and fun for the whole family. Plus, there will be trophies for the car show contestants with the best classic mustang, best modern mustang, and best overall. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777371
9. Spring Fever Handcrafted Market Glencoe Mansion, Museum & Gallery, Radford Saturday, May 11, 2024, 10:00 AM - 3:00 PM Admission: Free Shop local and handmade at the Spring Fever Handcrafted Market. Enjoy shopping with 20+ unique & one-of-a-kind artisans, makers, and modern crafters as well as food & dessert vendors including the Radford High School Performing Arts who will be holding a Snacks & Sodas fundraiser for guests. Make sure to visit the Glencoe Mansion Gift Shop, which is also home to unique handcrafted goods & Radford themed souvenirs. Glencoe Museum will be open until 4:00 PM. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=776736
10. 2024 Spring Open House P. Buckley Moss Gallery, Blacksburg Saturday, May 11, 2024, 11:00 AM - 4:00 PM and Sunday, May 12, 2024, 12:00 - 3:00 PM Admission: Free Meet the artist P Buckley Moss herself as we introduce her latest edition "Changing the Future" depicting the newest Corps of Cadet Buildings on the Virginia Tech Campus. Come in and celebrate her 91st year! the gallery will have a large selection of university themed prints and original watercolours for your graduating seniors as well as something for everyone in the family. Make sure to put your name in the hat for our P Buckley Moss Gift basket which will be drawn on Sunday at 3:00 PM. Parking is available on the street and in the city lot across from the gallery as well as in the Kent Square parking garage. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=776766
11. Carriage Rides for Mother's Day Draper Mercantile and Trading Company, Draper Saturday, May 11, 2024, 11:00 AM - 3:00 PM and Sunday, May 12, 2024, 2:00 - 6:00 PM Carriage Rides: $20.00 Take a charming carriage ride around Draper Mercantile's picturesque village and create memories that will last a lifetime from Suthers Carriage Company. Perfect for capturing those special moments with Mom. Additionally, indulge in our delectable new food and beverage items specially curated for the month of May. Online reservations are available. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777395
12. Earth Day - We Didn't Miss It! JBR Vineyards LLC, Pearisburg Saturday, May 11, 2024, 12:00 - 5:00 PM and Sunday, May 12, 2024, 1:00 - 5:00 PM Admission: Free Wine Pricing: Tasting: $5.00, Glass of Wine: $5.00, Bottles of Wine: $15.00-$20.00 plus tax Every day is earth day at JBR Vineyards. They take very good care of their vines because planet Earth is the only planet with wine. See our vineyard and taste wines from grapes rarely grown in Virginia. Remember to celebrate with your graduate and bring mom on her special day. Dogs and kids welcome. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777282
13. Free Outdoor Acroyoga Class and Jam Henderson Lawn, Virginia Tech Saturday, May 11, 2024, 1:00 - 3:00 PM Admission: Free In Balance Yoga presents a Free Outdoor Acroyoga Class and Jam. Learn about the playful practice of Acroyoga in a safe environment. No experience or partner is necessary. This free event will consist of one hour guided learning, and one hour of free form jam time. In case of rain, the rain location will be In Balance Yoga at their 1512 North Main Street location. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777118
14. Mount Tabor Ruritan Club's 2024 Fish Fry Kickoff with DJ Earl Brown Slusser's Chapel Church of God, Blacksburg In Person: Adults: $12.00, Children Ages 3-11: $6.00, Children Under 3: Free, Carry-Outs: $12.00 The Mount Tabor Ruritan Club presents their 2024 Fish Fry Kickoff and May event under the picnic shelter below the lower church parking lot. Enjoy a serving fish, fries, slaw, homemade desserts, and beverage. DJ Earl Brown will be spinning some hits to get the 2024 fry season off to a swinging start. This is a fundraiser for the Ruritan Club's community service projects and scholarships. The event will be held rain or shine. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=776749
15. 2024 Rockin' Main Street Concert Series Kickoff with The Jared Stout Band and Noah Spencer Downtown Christiansburg, Christiansburg Saturday, May 11, 2024, 5:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free The Town of Christiansburg and the Christiansburg Parks & Rec kicks off their 2024 Rockin' Main Street Concert Series featuring music from The Jared Stout Band and Noah Spencer. Celebrate food and music in downtown Christiansburg. Attendees can purchase food and drinks from a selection of food trucks and wine & beer vendors. Get ready to experience the high-octane energy and soulful sound of the Jared Stout Band. This alt-country powerhouse hails from Southwestern Virginia and is known for their unique blend of Appalachian rhythm and blues. As runners-up for the "On-The-Rise" award at FloydFest 22, the Jared Stout Band delivers an unforgettable performance by bringing their own energetic and soulful original songs to the stage. Noah Spencer is an up and coming musician from Richlands in Southwest Virginia. He brings a genuine passion to the stage with a voice that's both soft and smooth, but also gritty and soulful. His shows cover a wide range of styles from country to rock, Americana, pop, and gospel. He enjoys singing and playing guitar, drums, piano and the ukulele. Noah was also a contestant and starred on NBC's "The Voice" in Season 24 advancing to the playoff rounds. Please bring your IDs if you would like to purchase beer or wine. Tables and chairs will be set up along Main Street. However, attendants are encouraged to bring lawn chairs to sit at the square and watch the live music. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=776697
16. 2024 Bluegrass and Baseball Benefit with Lonesome River Band, Gold Rush and Hot Dog Supper Newport Community Center, Newport Saturday, May 11, 2024, 5:30 - 9:30 PM Admission: $25.00 Enjoy a night of legendary bluegrass music with nationally known bluegrass artists the Lonesome River Band along with opener and Giles County's own Gold Rush to support the youth baseball and softball programs in the Newport community starting at 7:00 PM at the 3rd Annual Bluegrass and Baseball Benefit. A hotdog supper will precede the event starting at 5:30 PM in the cafeteria along with a raffle which will include a banjo autographed by both the Lonesome River Band and Gold Rush as well as other items. Lonesome River Band continues their reputation as one of the most respected names in bluegrass music. Led by five-time International Bluegrass Music Association (IBMA) Banjo Player of the Year and Virginia Country Music Hall of Famer Sammy Shelor, the group holds a powerhouse line up of award-winning players. In 2023, over 150 kids participated on teams based in Newport. This concert helps provide essential funding for uniforms, equipment, practice space, and experiences for players age 3-16. Donations are always welcome to the Newport Sports Booster Club, a registered 501c3 organization. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777383
17. Irish Trad Jam with Mist on the Mountain Rising Silo Farm Brewery, Blacksburg Saturday, May 11, 2024, 6:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Mist on the Mountain is an Irish Traditional Music group based in the New River Valley. From lively jigs and reels to heartbreaking laments and rollicking ballads, Mist on the Mountain provides great Irish music for any occasion. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777070
18. Father Sun in Concert Dogtown Roadhouse, Floyd Saturday, May 11, 2024, 8:00 - 11:00 PM Admission: Free Father Sun embodies the true spirit of reggae with a blend of experienced artistry and youthful energy. Father Sun’s repertoire encompasses reggae covers and original compositions, each note carrying the authentic vibe of the genre. Their performances are not mere musical exhibitions; they are heartfelt celebrations of life and the universal language of music. Join Father Sun on their musical odyssey, where the essence of reggae is embraced and shared, connecting soul and spreading positivity wherever their music is heard. Laying the bassline of this musical journey is Janiah Allen, a seasoned musician known for his collaborations with Alliens, Music Road Co, Solazo, Jordan Harman & the Humble Brags, Sol Roots and The Ambassador. Alongside Janiah is his son, Nyo Allen, whose exceptional drumming skills bring life to Father Sun’s beats. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777370
19. Mother's Day Brunch Buffet Our Daily Bread Bakery & Bistro, Blacksburg Sunday, May 12, 2024, 9:00 AM - 2:00 PM, Adults: $35.00, Kids: $17.00 The Mother's Day Brunch Buffet Menu includes: Herb Roasted Prime Rib, Spiral Ham, Salmon with Lemon and Dill, Sausage & Ham Strata, Mushroom, Spinach & Gruyere Strata, Herb Roasted Garlic Potatoes, French Toast Casserole, Maple Chicken Sausage Links, Scrambled Eggs, Assorted Breads and Pastry and more. Tax and gratuity not included. No reservations. The buffet is first come, first serve. Mimosas, espresso and more will be available a la carte. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=775117
20. Mother's Day Brunch Buffet Bull & Bones Brewhaus & Grill, Blacksburg Sunday, May 12, 2024, 11:00 AM - 3:00 PM Adults: $35.00, Kids 6-12: $10.00, Ages 5 & Under: Free Bull & Bones Brewhaus & Grill presents a Mother's Day Brunch Buffet. The Mother's Day Brunch Buffet Menu entrees include Smoked Salmon with Dill, Sliced Grilled Loin Steak, French Toast with Syrup and Fruit Compote, Biscuits and Sausage Gravy, Smoked Ribs and Pork & Brisket among others along with sides and Strawberry Shortcake with Whipped Cream Price fr dessert. The buffet includes coffee, juice and condiments. Reservations are available via email.Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=775100
21. Mother's Day Celebration with Music from Leslie Brooks Moon Hollow Brewing, Blacksburg Sunday, May 12, 2024, 2:00 - 8:00 PM Admission: Free Musician Leslie Brooks will be performing on the patio from 4:00-7:00 PM, slushies will be available from 2:00-8:00 PM for a special Mother's Day Slushie Sunday and Driftwood Catering food truck will be on site. Leslie Brooks is a singer-songwriter, performing solo with guitar, playing jazz, folk, blues, rockin' country and popular favorites originally. She has played the best venues in a 16-state area, as well as in Norway and Monte Carlo. Opened for Heart, James Taylor, Bob Margolin and Willie Nelson to name a few. Latitude-Permanent Jewelry Co. will also be on site doing permanent jewelry from 3:00-7:00 PM. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=777369
22. Author Night with Justin Nobel Blacksburg Books, Blacksburg Sunday, May 12, 2024, 5:00 - 6:30 PM Admission: Free Blacksburg Books presents an Author Night with Justin Nobel and his special guest Pierson Keating. Justin Nobel will share findings from his book "Petroleum-238" which is an acclaimed science journalist’s extraordinary seven-year investigation into how the U.S. oil and gas industry has avoided environmental regulations and created a dangerous and radioactive public health crisis. Nobel relies on oilfield workers, community activists, a century of academic research, and a trove of never-before released industry and government documents to lay out a series of game-changing reveals into the world’s most powerful industry. Justin Nobel writes on science and environment for US magazines, investigative sites, and literary journals. His work has been published in Best American Science and Nature Writing and Best American Travel Writing. His 2020 Rolling Stone magazine story, "America’s Radioactive Secret," won an award for longform writing with the National Association of Science Writers and inspired this book. Justin has been reporting on fracking in West Virginia for seven years and one of the first people he met was Pierson Keating's mother, April Pierson-Keating, who was a West Virginia land protector and visionary grassroots activist. Justin did not know April's son Pierson, but since April's passing they have developed a bond around their shared vision to spotlight her environmental causes. Pierson is a musician and presently living in Austin, with deep musical roots in West Virginia, and will be playing music inspired by his mother. No registration needed, just show up. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=775376
And, for the music lovers, here's a look at the weekend music lineup: http://www.nextthreedays.com/featuredevents.cfm?ET=1
Thanks for reading and have a great & safe weekend!

[A4A]Older Sibling Comforts You After A Bad Day at School

free to monetize! to credit, just link my YT (find in my profile)! Thanks! :D Location/Ambience: bedroom ambience, you can hear traffic outside (or rain if you want) Listener: little sibling who had a bad day returning to school Voice: Older sibling - concerned and wanting to comfort the listener Theme: We all have bad days, but it doesn't make YOU bad :)
(this is the first script I ever wrote)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
walks in door
Hey, I’m home.
keys on table, pause
You here?
Oh! - (changes to a whisper) …in bed already?
Hey…
knock knock, walks closer to listener
Hello…
pat pat
Ohp - Shh it’s just me. It’s a bit early to find you all curled up in bed. Your eyes are red, are you ok? (small chuckle) You’re fine? I’m… not very convinced. You went back to school today, did something go wrong? EVERYTHING?! That’s… a lot of things… was it hard to find your classes? I know that building is like a maze -
No?
Well, of course, lol, you’re always so good at directions, and you HAVE been going there for a whole semester already. Of course you’d know your way around.
Maybe… were the teachers awful? You said you were taking physics, right? Mr. Malcolm.. Is REALLY strict so if it’s him, I totally get what you mean. He made ME cry once! Yeah, yeah he did. Was that what happened?
(sigh) If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s ok. But… I know you, and I know how it usually helps you to talk things through - yeah? Alright, great!
Well, here, let me sit down. C’mon, make some room. Don’t make me tickle you - Ok, ok, sorry, sorry, bad timing, yeah I know…
Alright! This way I can relax, you can relax, and you can tell me EVERYTHING that went wrong. Do you want me to pat your back? Alright, here. Just relax, it’s ok now. I’m here for ya.
calm patting
______
(for context - listener proceeds to explain they were super sleepy to get up at 6 am Mom yelled at them to hurry up before they missed the bus
Panicked getting on the bus, didn’t know who to sit with and ended up sitting in a seat with something sticky and smelly on it
Got overwhelmed being around all the loud immature and careless kids
Had to sit alone at lunch cause all their friends were sitting with the noisy ones
Went outside to cry and was late to a class after lunch
Missed assignments due to being overwhelmed
Had to sit between two bratty girls passing notes
Found the person they had a crush on, and they were now with an ex friend)
______ Mhhm… wow… ok… that really does sound like everything. Ok so let me see if I’ve got everything…
deep breath
So first, you got up late and mom yelled at you, and you missed breakfast because you were going to miss the bus.
Then on the bus, you didn’t know anyone, so you panicked and picked the first seat available, but it had something like… what was it? Dried up orange juice? Stuck on it? Man.. that’s so gross…
And then once you got to school you got really overwhelmed by all the loud, annoying kids, and you sat alone at lunch time because you couldn’t find your friends, and then you were late to your first afternoon class because you were crying outside?
sad sigh
Aaaaand… you missed an assignment cause you were so overwhelmed you didn’t hear it? Oh- right, cause you were sitting between two immature girls passing notes - and then, last but not least, you found out that the person you had a crush on last semester is with your ex-friend?
exhale dramatically
…damn. That really does feel like everything. (pats pack) Sorry that all happened to you. I might have cried all day too if that had been my first day back to school. But! I’m really proud of you for getting through it.
Yeah, you finished the day out. You made it. A hard day like that - and you didn’t die, you didn’t call mom or dad to come pick you up, you didn’t run away. That takes some courage, kiddo!
pat back
Mhhm, I mean it. Hm? Calling mom and dad to get you? Well, I… I know someone who used to do that if they had a bad day at school.
Eh?! Me?! Well… haha yeah, you figured it out. It was me. I used to have really bad anxiety in school too. I didn’t really tell you about it because… well, you know, I didn’t want you to be scared of school!
After all, school can be really fun sometimes! You get to meet lots of new people, you get to learn new things, and when you do your homework and participate and stuff, it’s really rewarding!
What? No! Hey you stop that right now, you’re NOT dumb. If there’s something you didn’t understand in school, it’s because you were overwhelmed, like today, or the teachers didn’t teach you right.
As long as you’re doing your best to put new things in that capable brain of yours, you’re doing everything right. It can be really frustrating when you can’t figure something out, or you can’t remember everything you’re expected to, but it does NOT mean you’re dumb!
If you are having a hard time with something, it’s likely the other kids are too.
I remember this one time… in algebra class. Miss Leonard was trying to explain some new thing… what was it…
haha, see I already forget! Anyway, she was trying to teach us some new way to solve this one maths equation, and I felt so dumb for really not being able to get it. I just sorta sat there, feeling stupid… and then when she asked us to give our answers, NONE of us got it right!
So yeah… I’m sure if there’s something you’re not too sure of, you’re probably not the only one who needs a little extra explanation. But yeah anyway, you’re not dumb!
You’re smart, you’re creative, and you’re… hhm… what’s the word… persistent? Perseverent?
Yeah. You’re strong, and today proved it.
Yes, really.
Aw, so what if you cried through it all? Tears… don’t mean you’re weak. They mean you’re working really hard!
Hey, what about your two buddies from last semester?
Different classes?
Tch. That stinks. You didn’t see them at all?
Ah. I see. She - what? Swooning over that jerk Danny again? What a shame! I thought better of her. Oh- that kind of reminds me. You said your crush… yeah. You said they -
Oh no.. hey don’t - well, if you need to cry, kiddo, that’s alright.
(scowling) I can’t believe it.. With a snobby brat like that? What a…
clears throat
Well, listen. If that’s the kind of person they’re after, then you, my friend, dodged a bullet! I know it doesn't make it feel any better though.
Tomorrow is a new day. Now that you’ve gotten today under your belt, tomorrow won’t seem so bad! After all, now you know where all your classes are, and you can take steps to make sure you avoid all the obnoxious people. And you’ll know to watch out for Mr. Malcolm.
Naw, I don’t think he hates you - he’s just really strict, super old school, you know? Yeah. I get it. Here - how about you take some deep breaths to help yourself calm down?
It’s almost midnight… you don’t have anything left to do, do you? Homework or anything? Ok, good. How about your phone, is it plugged in so it’ll be ready for tomorrow? Alarm set? OK, I can plug it in for you - what’s that?
Ok here, listen. I don’t mean to sound like mom and dad but.. You’ve been staying up soooo late - if you stay up till 4 am again - fine, 3:30 am - you’re gunna be super extra duper grumpy in the morning again, mom will be upset, and you’ll end up with the stinky orange juice seat again.
hahahaha…Mmhhm? Yeah, listen - when you sleep, your body emotionally resets.
You gotta sleep or you won’t be ready to tackle tomorrow.
That’s one thing I noticed really helped me when I was having panic attacks at school. When i started sleeping 7-8 hours every night, they happened a lot less. And… I don’t want you having panic attacks at school, kiddo. It’s really not fun…
Anyway… are you feeling a little bit better now?
Good. Here, hand me your phone and I’ll plug it in for ya.
Come oooooon…. Give it to meeeee… Ok, you know what, here. Let’s make a deal. If you give me your phone, I’ll stay here with you till you fall asleep, how’s that? I’ll sing, pat your back, help do some breathing exercises with you… the whole nine yards, I wont leave till you’re snoring.
Deal? Alright, perfect, kiddo.
plugs phone in
I’ll use all my special powers to help you sleep. Nah, don’t sweat it. It’s my job as your big sibling to help you out once in a while, k? I can’t ALWAYS be bullying you, haha.
Aw cmon I don’t bully you THAT much, right? Naww…
OK… phone plugged in, let’s start with some good old anti- anxiety breathing exercises. Sure, go ahead, get comfy first.
Alright. Take a nice deep breath with me. Ready? In - (inhale slowly) out. (exhale)
Ok now slower this time. Don’t rush it. Ok. In (inhale slower) and out. (exhale a lot slower)
Again… In (inhale slow) and out. (exhale slowly)
You’re doing so great. Let’s do it a few more times, but slower and hold it in between. Yeah, the doctor said you should count 3 seconds between breathing in and out. Let’s do it.
Breathe in - (inhale slowly) hold - (three seconds) and out (exhale)
Breathe in - (inhale slowly) hold it - (three seconds) and out (exhale). There you go.
One more time. Breathe in - (inhale slow) hold - (3 seconds) aaaand out (exhale)
Nice job.
pause, rubbing back
Sing? Uh, sure. What song do you want me to sing? (chuckle) that one? You used to always ask me to sing that when you were little. Sure, I can sing it. If i remember the words.
(feel free to sing any lullaby type song you can think of! This one is MY personal fav bc im a horse girl but feel free to do anything!)
Hush a bye, don't you cry
Go to sleep, my little baby
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little ponies
Blacks and bays, dapples and greys Running in the night
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little ponies. I… I don’t think that song has a second verse. If it does, I forget it. I’ll hum the tune for you again. hum all the song gently again Alright, my turn to pick.
hum a random song for the remainder the recording, patting back and getting slower and quieter (whispering) Ok. goodnight, kiddo. Sleep well.
rustling and quiet footsteps, door closing
[End]