I am 15 and a trans man. I always was boyish, i hated the idea of being perceived as a girl, always hung out with the boys, played soccer wore soccer jerseys and stuff like that. My hair was always an issue, it was long but ALWAYS in a ponytail. A year ago i decided to cut it, first to shoulder length and then to really short. After the first haircut i was shaking so hard because i didnt know if i made the right choice, after the second one I knew i made the right choice. I couldn’t stop smiling, suddenly i was fine with taking pictures if myself because i liked the way i looked. I came put to my parents, sisters and friends a year ago after cutting my hair (im not out in school yet). When i came out to my mom she wasn’t against it because she was sure i was just confused and was uncomfortable with the sudden changes my body is going through like every teenager and i didn’t feel comfortable telling her how i truly felt, after talking to her again she said she is just afraid of how the world would react and she accepts me for who i am. She sent me to a psychologist which i was very thankful for. i hoped my mom would tell her im trans and would be honest about why im there but my mom instead introduced me as her daughter who is struggling and needs help. This made coming out to my psychologist very difficult and i haven’t came out to her yet. Since coming out i have seen a lot of people saying im just confused and im still a kid and ill regret trying to transition in a few years. All of this is really making me doubt myself and my identity. I know this feeling is not normal, i know most teenagers don’t feel this way and yet i still doubt myself so much. How can i change the way i think? I want to come out (to my psychologist and in school) but im so afraid im wrong yet at the same time if i wont come out i wouldn’t be able to medically transition before im 18 and thats my main goal.

Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. It’s a long story (get your popcorn ready)
So my(33f) whole life I have a very sensitive skin. It’s mostly painful but manageable for me to do manicure and pedicure, I don’t go to cosmetologist as I have a high risk of getting an allergy or redness. However, I like to dye my hair and I have been to numerous hairdressers as well as done it myself for about 15 years
Three years ago I had severe health problems which caused me to lose half of my hair (among other symptoms) and at one point I almost died. At that time I stopped dyeing my hair and chopped it off due to bad quality. 2,5 years later I’ve been feeling good, my hair grew out and I decided it’s time to make my 2 dreams come true: to donate my hair so they can make a wig for cancer patients and to dye the bob that will be after the haircut bright pink
I’ve spent a lot of time to find a hairdresser that would fit me. The one that chopped my hair didn’t work with bright colors and actually chopped off 10cm more than I asked. I was sad but ok as it went for charity
After a few month I finally found the one that had pretty good works and the price was good enough
When I came to the appointment It felt weird, I think we didn’t clicked, but were pretty respectful towards each other. I told her right away that I have sensitive skin and she seemed ok with that
Although I didn’t like that she didn’t ask for my permission to take photos or videos for her social media, and I was just told that she will take them after she finishes her work. I swallowed it as I always supportive of hairdressers, makeup artists etc. I loved her work on me and was absolutely happy, but during the filming she was irritated that I’m posing not like she wanted although I never got the instructions
A few days later she posted an IG reel with me and she put a filter on my face for a preview picture. Mind you, I almost haven’t recognized myself. She never asked me if I’m ok with that. I was livid but once again swallowed it because it’s so hard to find a good hairdresser where I live
During the next appointment she held her blowing dryer too close to my head that it felt like it burned a hole in my head. I politely asked to hold it a bit further and she reacted normally, and tried to do so. Sometimes she pulled my hair too much and I made some quiet noises as I can’t control my reaction
During the third appointment she fucked up with bleaching my roots and I got a light strip 1 cm wide. At first it wasn’t noticeable due to the lighting and I saw it the next day and sent her a message right away. She never apologized and tried to make it seem like it was my fault, but eventually said to come to her salon to fix it (for free ofc). Her fixing didn’t help that time and the next one. So I had to walk like that for 2 months. She never acknowledged her fault, and newer apologized. Okay, things happen, I understand. I swallowed my frustration once again
Now to the main problem. I’ve been at her salon for 5-6 times and after at least the last three of them I’ve noticed that she washed my had very bad leaving A LOT of dye. This caused a very painful itching after only 2-3 hours after the appointment was finished and the last time this itching continued for two weeks. Okay, she has only 3-4 years of experience, I get it, mistakes happen. I thought that I would talk to her about this and it will be better
Yesterday was my last appointment. I addressed my concerns in a very polite manner, she tried to break my speech answering that it’s the dye that is so strong or the bleach causes the irritation and she is not sure it can be fixable. I told her that I have years of experience and never had this problem before. I’m just asking her to wash my head more thoroughly. She agreed to try
Well, the issue seemed resolved, she have bleached my roots and the part she fucked up before, washed my hair and started to blow drying it before dyeing. During the blow drying part I felt that she holds the blow dryer too close to my head again (mind you, when it’s just hot I remain silent, I say something only when I can’t bear the pain), I again asked her very politely to hold it a bit further
In response she started to raise her voice (not screaming) telling me how it irritates her that I have sensitive skin and I always say that it’s too hot, to painful or that I have allergic reaction. She said it’s uncomfortable for her to work like this with me and this is the last time [she allows me to say things like that]. She said that next time things will be different
I was shocked and said that I didn’t choose to have sensitive skin or get an allergic reaction. What should I have to do? To shut up when I’m in unbearable pain or have an allergy?
She responded only that she is uncomfortable with me and her other clients never have this problem
I said okay and sat completely silent and shocked knowing I will never be back as it was the last nail in the coffin
She dyed my hair, washed it again (surprisingly, she did it the exact way I asked for) and dried it. During drying she once again held the blow dryer so close to my head that I had to tilt in other direction from her in absolute pain and put my cold fingers on that place for a half a minute. She just remained silent looking more irritated and started to hold the blow dryer too far like on purpose
After she finished I paid for the service, came back home and blocked her. I never want to see her again or interact with her
Now, to my question: my husband said that blocking her was an overreaction, and I could just unfollowed her (she didn’t follow me). He didn’t say that in any rude way or so, just his opinion. I didn’t think I overreacted, but maybe I did? Idk, what do you think? Am I wrong in my reaction?

TL:DR at the bottom. On mobile, this isn't in the US before anyone comes in with "bUt iN 'mUrIcA...". I do not give consent for this to be published, reused, referenced or linked to by any other person, entity, corporation or anything else.
I was flying for work today, ended up getting through security screening and having lunch faster than I'd expected, so I had a few hours before boarding. Settled in a comfy chair, noise cancelling headphones in, Netflix on my phone, all was set to chill out and kill some time.
I'd been there about half an hour before even through the ANC headphones I heard a screeching sound and saw a flurry of movement. Wouldn't you know it, the culprit was (of course) a Boomer. Karen haircut, dyed blonde clearly over grey, toothpick arms and legs with that weird fat belly, and a face that would curdle milk while it was still in the cow.
A new mother was flying with her baby interstate (from overhearing the intrusive conversation, 6 weeks but also premature). Baby young enough and I'm guessing had some health issues as a paediatric nurse was taking care of the baby, in uniform, complete with medical bag and bagged containers with milk for the baby. Mother was clearly nervous and watching baby and nurse closely, though the nurse clearly had everything under control. In other words, the very picture of a time and place that you leave people alone and give them space, courtesy and privacy... If you aren't a Boomer at any rate.
Boomer had arrived at the gate, seen the nurse with baby and the mother, made this ungodly screeching and launched herself as fast as her legs would carry her body towards the scene. The nurse skillfully deflected the advance by turning her back and placing the child hidden behind her on the chair, so Boomer launched into an invasive series of questions to the poor mother, delving deep into highly inappropriate/personal questions that the mother clearly didn't want to answer. Meanwhile through this Boomer is tottering on her feet, literally swaying back and forth towards the baby and nurse, which the nurse continued to shield with her body.
After around 10 minutes of this, she finally retreated all of 20 paces to a standing desk/bench nearby, continuing to stare and do the weird swaying/tottering like she was barely containing herself from running back over. She continued to stand there for the next 15 minutes like this, until the nurse had to change the baby... At which point she launched herself back over, screeching again something incomprehensible, and started trying to PUSH the NURSE out of the way!
Having been keeping an eye on the situation, I got up, took the few steps to her and yanked the back of her shirt and pulled her away a few steps with a loud "what in the hell do you think you're doing?!". Cue sputtering and whining/moaning about how the nurse was "doing it wrong" and "only trying to help" and "can't expect a young person to get these things right". I continued walking her away from the baby/nurse/mother a few more steps before security was on the scene taking over, taking the boomer by the flabby arms and marching her off. Boomer continued to screech and carry on, trying to pull away and back to the baby.
Mother looked terrified, nurse was clearly unsettled but handling everything well (serious amounts of respect to her, if she reads this: well done. You're an absolute legend). A third security guard came up and asked me to take a seat for a moment, checked on the mothenurse/baby, before the other two returned having handed the crazy boomer off to federal police a few gates away. Drinks (I'm assuming coffee/tea by the cups) were brought for the mothenurse, one security guard asking me what had happened which I relayed while I'm guessing the same was done for the nurse/mother. Sat for a bit before the security guards helped them move elsewhere (a lounge maybe? Private room?) and federal police arrived to take a statement from me and collect crazy boomers bag. Even the cops looked weirded out by the whole situation, with lots of shaking of the head and WTF faces.
All in all, everything was sorted out reasonably quickly considering, and only had another half hour to wait before catching my flight. The troubling part is that other than it being in an airport and there being a nurse involved? Boomers do this crap all the time! They see a baby and suddenly they have to interject themselves, with zero consideration for whether their comments and questions are appropriate, act incredibly entitled, take zero interest in whether the parent is uncomfortable, and generally act as though because there is a baby they have free pass to be complete d###s.
/rant

I am sitting in one of the disused but quite beautiful parts of the neighborhood, waiting for it to rain.
The rain has already come and gone, a light rain that left traces of dampness on the pavement – the shade of the spring day darkens, becomes real, which is a comfort because that realness, that feeling of extra substance, comes from the water cycle working the way it's supposed to.
I feel it around my nostrils, on the cheeks of my face near the eyes, like I'm a frog looking up from its pond water, which is a pleasant feeling to sashay around town with. This is the spring we all know, the moisture appearing on my skin after drifting miles above the earth ten minutes earlier –
an epic plunge is what we are walking through, but it's already rising again, and let's face it – we live in a cook pot set on media, I mean medium – medium is the setting on the cook pot, which notice is more than a crock. From the frog’s point of view, it is ideal.
From our point of view, standing in the chop of the water cycle, we are soaring in the air – then minutes from now, we might be walking in the clouds, and who knows after that, but this is the context for comings and goings this mid-afternoon – this potential for levitation.
I find a broad and elegant tree stump to sit on and record the concrete. Someday we'll all have concrete recorders but today, we just have me.
The stumps are not indigenous to the property, at least I don't think so, but I'm not exactly sure why I don't think that, given that the facility that occupies the block was once probably a forest with abundant marshy places. The forest went, then some infrastructural evolution played out that upcycled into a world-class performing arts center.
Given that my art, before it is anything, is performative – watch the monkey paint words with a stick – I'm hand-in-glove with the performance of the plaza.
I am sitting in a grove of tree stumps, which automatically brings to mind entropy – we all will die someday, become handsome all-weather furniture that slowly disintegrates – but then the overwhelming pleasantness of the day causes the thought to move on, and the stumps become a moment in time that is also a cross-section of full biography, which is quite a thing to be sitting on, waiting for the rain.
The forecast, which I predict would be one of the more impressive modern achievements to the humans who lived through the ice age – just an opinion – the forecast –
I picture ice-age human faces in stunned wonder as weather prediction after weather prediction comes true. The forecast
says there is a one-hundred percent chance of rain later this afternoon, time precise to the quarter hour, but with Doppler weather radar, one can make one's own data-driven prediction about when the rain will start to the nearest few minutes.
Someday we'll wear watches that are nothing but countdown clocks ’til the next time the forecast calls for rain – when the clock reaches the nearest minute, it switches to seconds.
This broad, elegant stump I'm sitting on sets on a bed of gravel which, when it rains, can convince me it is river gravel – pick up a few of the rounded stones, give them a close look for evidence of the past. I briefly imagine
finding the remains of a sauropod, each piece of gravel containing a tiny piece of a single sauropod, which together add up to the most complete sauropod skeleton yet discovered.
The stump is all take and no give, and yet I think I prefer it to popping open a lawn chair – the imperviousness of the stump being conducive to recording the concrete.
My backside is about eighty-years wide, which is older than my age, which inspires thoughts about backing into predestination, at least where just sitting around on a fine spring day is concerned. Like a bump on a log in a way, and let's face it – the concrete doesn't get much more concrete than that. A splashing sound
comes from the page. I scan the paper like it’s the sky, and I'm waiting for an aerial firework to open, then I find the spot of rain splashed across the phrase think so – think so, is the phrase – which is followed by a second raindrop, this one hitting the word water, causing the ink to run a little.
A one-hundred percent chance – does that even make sense? I picture a barrel of rain, rolling across the plains. Perhaps we should feel lucky for being visited by such a probability – possibly years before it rolls around again.
Rain will undoubtedly fall at this time, we say to our ice-age guests, and they will hold up the one hand like it's rain, hold up the other like it's time, weigh the two sides side-by-side maybe, maybe invent that gesture where the dancer holds both palms above their heads, lifts them up and down like they're raising the roof.
Still, I'm not sure they'll really understand all those computer models, hypotheses wrapping themselves around big-data projects involving sensors and rain gauges deployed across the land, starting centuries ago. Science raised the roof, we might say, at least as far as weather prediction is concerned.
I sense the rain not exactly letting up, retreat to the interior of the performing arts center after taking a few notes.
Along part of the gravel is a long puddle of water from the overnight rain, and I would need but a few fish bones or raccoon tracks to believe the whole thing was situated beside a river, the sort of gravel bed surging with snow melt earlier in the season.
This being the Midwest, higher elevations are usually metaphorical, metaphorical before they are anything else, and I think about the campus surging with graduates this past weekend, the landscape of human potential, in all directions, inundated by them.
Inside now, I see a balloon bouquet along one wall of the concourse, with gold Mylar affirmation – The Best Is Yet to Come! – floating on the end of a ribbon.
A one-hundred percent chance of rain – imagine telling all those graduates, you have a one-hundred percent chance of finding love within a fortnight. Call it a graduation gift, then imagine all those rain gauges quivering in their brackets at the thought of measurements certain to be made, collated, used to improve the algorithms that animate the global gods of rain.
At the far end of the concourse, a lady is teaching a gentleman how to dance – they aren’t touching, aren’t even facing each other – side-by-side – and I hear her call out the moves, move-by-move.
Maybe he’s an actor and she’s going over a certain bit of choreography for an upcoming production. Maybe he’s a restless spirit, and she’s teaching him the art of haunting.
That ghost forest in the gravel outside is adjacent to one of the busiest intersections on campus, and yet, turn your back to it, and it becomes just another element in the stopping and starting of the cosmos.
I could see to either end of the block from that broad, elegant tree stump I was sitting on without really being seen from the street which, along with a lush stand of grass in a nearby raised garden bed, brings to mind the wide-open prairie from centuries past.
I picture deer bounding over golden rod. I picture foxes negotiating cone flowers.
The interior of the performing arts center is designed around the premise of potential – four theaters in league with the cardinal directions, plus a blindingly white amphitheater and a low stage in the concourse itself, where they hand out complimentary spliffs and pass around community bongs during free upbeat life-affirming musical programs, attended by folks after the workday is over, plus a helping of retirees.
Okay, not grass but alcohol, but you get the point – people enjoy shindigs now and then. The lady and gentleman are out of sight, but she’s still giving direction – I can hear their back and forth somewhere around the curve in the wall,
which might stand for the passing of time. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back! For real this time! I imagine myself destroying the pasodoble – no, god, my boot heels! The planks on the floor! I take it back!
The sun returns, so I pick up my things, head back out to that secluded space, spend a few minutes admiring the resoundingly designed program of the building.
Preformed white concrete panels are suspended twelve feet off the ground to establish the roof of the entrance. Ninety-degree angles abundantly in evidence. Brick pixelates the angled outer walls with the stuff of the earth. Ultra-high resolution, they call it around the masonic lodge.
Someone in the amphitheater is having their photo taken by a professional – everyone loves to do photo shoots there. She is wearing dark knee socks, a navy jumper and a blue bowl haircut, or maybe it’s a wig – I can’t tell from here. I picture anime or promotional material for this fine spring day.
A squirrel bounds through the grass – then poses in front of me, paws together, as though summoning oration.
A robin alights on the stone cladding of the raised beds, begins to stand exclusively on its left leg. The leg is angled under the center of mass – it’s a practiced move.
No one knows why the American robin does this – maybe it’s like bird meditation, though the memory of the American robin is so specifically extraordinary when it comes to navigation and geospecific locations that effectively, at the sensual level on up, it is living in a reality separate from our own, so who knows what meditation might mean.
They can see the magnetic fields of the earth in their eyes using a protein called cryptochrome, which reacts to magnetism. Cryptochrome – like something from the Marvel universe.
Maybe when the American robin stands on its left leg, it’s spacing out to the daytime reality of solar storms, the whole environment all aflutter with a phenomenology of waves passing around the material world.
The robin and the squirrel go their separate ways, and I feel the temperature drop – ah, me! the pasodoble! – as the next part of the front crosses campus.
A peel of thunder indicates the breaking of the sound barrier by means of electromagnetism and the displacement of gasses. Electromagnetic properties experience disequilibrium as a kind of earthquake in the sky that causes the air to vibrate in an awe-inspiring way – the sound magnetic fields make when they rearrange themselves in a gaseous atmosphere.
We are fluid dwellers, through and through, we humans and mammals and reptiles and amphibians and lichen gnawing on patches of the plaza’s concrete. Maybe from the standpoint of the atmosphere, land is just one big coral reef.
When that perfect destiny began to drop rain, the sound at first was curious, expectant – an all-squinty-eyed-and-kissy-faced sort of rain began to fall that grew into a snowy hum that seemed to have a simple song playing inside it, like someone playing a ukulele in the room next door, singing along.
The gig carries on for twenty minutes or so – an opening act – before the rain begins to march double time through the streets – barely soldiers even when they were soldiers.
Less tactic and more matador, this rain storm, and its boot heel crashes down on the planking of the still-lovely spring day. These magnetic storms are not
for war making, nor fighting bulls, nor even for entertaining that cosmic bird called the American robin. What are they for then?
American robins also configure their flight by the stars, by remembering features on the land, by creating mental maps of it all.
And they swim with both grace and endurance, as they navigate this liquid world, this concrete way of life.
In the moment, they are roosting in a tree, observing the silver magnetic waves marching through the streets. Made of what? The pasodoble! Concrete.

I am NOT OOP. OOP is u/justathrowaway282641
Originally posted to TwoHotTakes + her own page
Previous BoRU #1, BoRU #2, BoRU #3, BoRU #4, BoRU #5, BoRU 6
Editor’s Note: removed all relevant comments from older posts to make space for new updates. To see all older relevant comments, check out the previous BoRUs above
NEW UPDATE MARKED WITH ----
[New Update]: My family forgot to invite me to my grandparents funeral, but they are convinced I was there.
Trigger Warnings: death of loved ones, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, harassment
RECAP
Original Post: November 14, 2023**
I’m 30s F and caused a major blowup in my family and now none of them are talking to me. For background, my hometown is tiny (500pop) and when I went 2 hrs away to “the city” (15,000pop) for college, I loved it. I ended up staying after graduation, got married, and am happy here for a decade. I visit my home town every few weeks or so, call/text my family near daily, and thought we were all good. My family’s pretty small. Just my brother, mom, step dad, dad, step mom, and an aunt and uncle (mom’s siblings, never married, no kids). My mother's grandparents moved to my home town when I was in high school and were just down the street from us. My family has always been pretty drama free (aside from my parent’s divorce when I was a kid) and we’ve been happy. The step-parents were blended in perfectly and we share holidays and celebrations together. We’re all super close and just the perfect little group.
Ever since I moved away, the topic of “when am I moving back?” is constant, and I’ve always laughed it off. My home town has nothing. You have to drive 30 minutes for milk and bread. 60-90 minute one-way commutes to work. And floods shut down the main road every Easter. I love the town, but I love here more. I have parks, stores, community events, a library! The “city” is great. My family grumbles that I need to move back, but I refuse. I've been trying to encourage them to come here, especially since it's not an hour drive to the nearest medical facility.
Now to the meat and potatoes: both my grandparents passed over COVID times. They were both old and their health had been failing for a while so it was only a matter of time. Thankfully they didn’t catch it, but it made visiting them impossible and we survived mostly through FaceTime. They both passed in their sleep months apart. Both were cremated and kept securely under the kitchen sink for safe keeping while the pandemic blew over. That was 2021.
Well, I just found out my family held a funeral for them and scattered the ashes in my uncle’s maple grove over the summer. No one said a word to me about it. I’ve visited numerous times before and after and not one word. I only found out because my great uncle from California posted on Facebook a few weeks ago that he is entering hospice and was so thankful his health stayed strong enough for him to see his little sister (my grandma) to her final resting place. I was confused and called my mom. She was all “Yeah, the funeral we had in July, remember?” Ya’ll, I visited them for the 4th of July. They did the funeral the 8th. Not a word about it to me. They had planned this for months. Long enough to arrange for my infirm great uncle to be brought over from the other side of the country. Apparently, they talked about it “all the time”.
Everyone is convinced I was at the funeral. They SWEAR I was there. I can prove I wasn’t because Google’s got my location history. My hubby is baffled because he was supposedly there, too, but he had to work every weekend in June and July. Time clock doesn’t lie. My family straight up forgot about me. I’m hurt. I’m sad. And they’re pissed at me “for lying”. They think I’m causing drama over nothing. Nothing I say can convince them I wasn’t there. My family is united in this. And they’ve all put me “on read” until I admit I’m wrong. They think I’ve gone nuts. Either there’s a doppelganger of me attending events, or my family doesn’t want to admit they screwed up. I’m not backing down.
Thanksgiving is coming up, and my family’s been vague posting on Facebook about “forgetful kids” and mental health. It’s so freaking weird and I don’t know if I’m in bizzaro world or what’s going on. My mom’s best friend reached out and said I should just admit I was wrong and apologize, that I’m causing my mom so much unnecessary stress. I asked her if she’s checked everyone’s home for CO2. She hung up on me. (We checked our CO2, and our testers are running just fine.) I have reached out to a few people in my home town to check in on my folks, and they all say they're fine. I even spoke with the local volunteer fire fighter group to see if they could check for gas leaks. Not sure if they were able to.
I don’t know what to do. I’ve shown them the proof I wasn’t there, but they know I’m tech savvy and just assume I’ve Photoshopped it. Hubby says we need a break, and we’re going to be staying home this holiday season.
Edit: I don't know the update rules, so I'll post updates to my profile should anyone want them.  
Update #1: November 27, 2023
Not sure how to do updates on posts, so figured I'd post anything on my profile. Folks have private messaged me and this will be easier I think?
It's 11/27 and Thanksgiving just happened. Hubby and I stayed home. We got a small turkey and made our own little thanksgiving. It was nice. We ate around noon, then watched a movie, and later sat outside with a bottle of wine to watch the sun set behind the trees and neighbor houses.
We usually take the day before off, drive to my folks, stay the night, and help with the Thanksgiving Day cooking. So it wasn't until Wednesday night that my mom broke the silence. Mom called and asked when I was showing up, and I told her we were staying home this year, but for them to have a happy Thanksgiving, and to give the rest of the family my love. She was quiet for a long time after I said that, and I think she eventually mumbled an "okay", or something, and hung up. It wasn't an angry hang up. Just a hang up. On Thanksgiving day, I sent a group "Happy Thanksgiving!" gif to our family group chat. I received a few "happy Thanksgiving"'s back. No one's said anything else. There's been no posts on Facebook.  
Update #2: December 12, 2023
So, I think I mentioned in one of my comments that my dad and I usually talk on the phone every Sunday morning. We're both early risers so we'd chat over our morning coffees and watch the sunrise. Him and I haven't really spoken since this all went down and it's been tough. I'm used to talking to him, you know?
Well, I was sitting outside in my usual spot, watching the sun rise and freezing my butt off, and he called me. I'm not entirely sure how to describe the emotions I felt. It was a mix of panic, hope, terror, happiness, and dread. I ended up answering because I just had to know what he wanted. It was an awkward conversation. He didn't address the current "drama", but instead tiptoed around the situation with all the grace of an cow on stilts. For instance, a simple "How are you doing?" Type question was answered with a "Not good." And the whole conversation would stall out for a bit because he knew why I wasn't doing well. So we ended up talking about the weather, the various winter birds we'd seen in our feeders, and the Christmas decorations around town. Things like that.
Eventually he asked if we were coming out for Christmas, and sounded sad when I told him we weren't. He asked if him and step mom could come visit us instead, and I told him it wasn't a good idea this year. That hubby and I were going to spend a quiet holiday together. I let him know he should be receiving some gifts at his PO Box any day now, so to please pick them up from the post office and put them under the family tree for everyone. He said he'd ship ours to us as well.
And that was pretty much it. No crazy drama to report. The only posts on Facebook have been the usual Christmas excitement ones, countdowns, photos of Santa, silly gift ideas, photos of company Christmas parties.
On a personal note: Hubby and I are doing alright. Our health is good, our spirits high, and we're as solid as ever. We each got Christmas bonus' at our jobs, so we're excited about that. They're not large, but we're happy to have them. We have also done advent calendars for the first time ever. I got him a Lego one, and he got me a hot chocolate one. We're going to do the calendars again next year. Maybe make a tradition out of it.
Everyone please have a safe and happy holidays.  
Inheritance: December 16, 2023
I've received a lot - A LOT - of messages and private DMs urging me to check into inheritance and such. I'm really touched a lot of Internet strangers are worried about me and I wanted to ensure everyone that inheritance is most likely not an issue here. I'd almost be relieved if it was, because then it would at least make some sense. Money does weird things to people, you know?
No one in my family is wealthy by any means. After my grandparents' passed, their small estate was used to pay for their end of life expenses and remaining assets split up. Everyone directly related got an equal split (so excluded my dad and the step parents). I don't remember the exact amount I received, but it was around $5k if I recall. My brother gave me his share, too, so I could finish paying off my college debt while the interest freeze was active.
The great uncle from California has kids and grand kids, and great grandkids of his own, and also isn't wealthy. I think one of his kids makes good money doing something in finance, but I'm not entirely sure. I can't imagine he left us anything, as we hardly knew him. My mom, aunt, and uncle only met him a few times in their lives, and my brother and I even less. Grandma and him were close, but I don't think he liked my grandpa much.  
Christmas: December 25, 2023
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I've received a lot of support through my posts and I'm really grateful. Writing these updates have had a therapeutic effect.
Yesterday was Sunday, but I didn't answer my dad when he called. I just really didn't feel up to a pointless chat, so let it go to voicemail. He tried to reach me a few times throughout the day, but I didn't answer.
Our bestie last minute invited us over to his house for Christmas day lunch (today), so husband and I were busy all Christmas Eve making cookies, peanut brittle, and homemade suckers/hard candies for his kids. Mom tried to reach out as well, but I also ignored her calls.
We had a BLAST at lunch! Our friend's kids are a lot of fun to be around. They got some techy presents from their grandparents (Quest vr headset and steam decks, lucky little rascals) Friend and his wife aren't good with tech, while hubby and I are, so we helped get them set up while our friend played a good host to his folks and inlaws. The grandparents didn't realize that a Steam deck required a Steam account, so we got the kids all their own accounts set up, added them to our steam friends lists, and gifted them some games. We also bought them a few VR games for their headset, and they were off to the races with Beat Saber in no time.
As for my folks: My brother texted and asked if we could talk sometime tomorrow. I think me ignoring mom and dad has caused some kind of upset. Which they deserve.  
Brother’s call: December 26, 2023
Spoke with my brother over the phone this morning.
For starters, he apologized for everything. Him and I are good (for now). For a bit of background, my brother and I are only 2 years apart. There weren't a lot of kids around growing up, so the two of us were often stuck doing stuff together. So we have a lot of shared interests and passions. He's been pretty silent on this whole matter, but still "part of the group", if you know what I mean. I think the thought of losing him out of my life was probably the most painful, because he's always been there. He was my rock until I met my husband. He's definitely a Mama's boy, though, so anything mom wanted, he made sure she got. I'm happy to have him back.
Without further ado, here's the story from the horse's mouth:
Mom apparently had a cancer scare late last year (which no one told me about, go figure), and dad had a stint put in his heart back in January (which I did know about). This "sense of mortality" has apparently lit a fire under Mom's ass to get me back home. But since I wasn't reacting to her passive aggressive hinting, she and step mom decided to go full crazy. My great uncle's health was bad, and he'd been asking about funeral arrangements for his sister (my grandma) for a while, so the moms decided to plan it. And use the event as a giant middle finger to me. They kept all the planning pretty hush-hush between the two of them, so no one on our side of the family actually knew about the funeral until like 2 weeks before. The moms said they'd invited hubby and I. No one thought anything about it. No one thought to mention, confirm, or check with me.
The plan was to scatter the ashes, say a few words, and maybe head to town for lunch. It was a small affair. The mom's didn't even tell the family that our great uncle was coming for it. Like I said, it was a small thing. Barely a footnote. No one thought it was odd because we're pretty chill people.
4th of July happens. Hubby and I are out. No one thought to mention it, as we were all busy celebrating and having a great time. Any time the topic of "this weekend" would start, the conversation would be quickly shifted by one of the moms. We went back home.
8th of July happens. Great uncle rolls into town with a few of his kids, grandkids, and great grandkids, and it's a surprise to everyone (but the moms). Everyone drives to the maple grove and the moms have brought a ton of food and stuff. It's a full blown party. No one on my side noticed I wasn't there, because there were so many extra faces outside the usual group. They did the spreading of the ashes, they said their words, they ate, they had a great time. It wasn't until our great uncle left, and all his side left with him, that they realized I wasn't there. And hadn't been there.
And this is where the crazy went up a notch. My brother says the moms were happy no one noticed I wasn't there. And that this was proof to everyone that I needed to move back because I was so easily forgotten about. Because none of them thought to reach out, right? They basically did a ton of guilt tripping manipulation bullshit and it made everyone upset at me for not showing up. Somehow it was my fault for being excluded. So suddenly everyone was on their side with "sticking it to me".
But then a few months went by, and tempers cooled, and then I guess the horror of it set in. Followed by the shame, but by then they were "in too deep". How do you undo something like this? And since I hadn't brought it up, I guess they figured they would all just stay quiet about it and hope I never asked about a funeral.
That's when I discovered the situation from my great uncle's Facebook and called my mom, who panicked and went with the stupidest solution. Claiming I was there. Don't I remember?
I ended up talking with a few friends from high school, mentioning the situation, and word got back to those in town. So suddenly town gossip and little old church ladies got involved. Was I, or wasn't I at the funeral? Did my family forget to invite me to the funeral of the only grandparents I'd ever know? Or am I just causing a ruckus? My brother said they all just went with mom's answer. Of course they wouldn't forget me. Of course I was there. Of course they're good people. And it just snowballed.
The family expected me to eventually fold. I'm usually a nonconfrontational person, so me sticking to my guns was unexpected. And then I missed Thanksgiving. And now Christmas. With no sign of backing down. And I guess the realization that I could just stop being part of their lives is setting in and my parents are panicking. He's tried just getting them to apologize and explain, but stubbornness prevails. They want to rug sweep, but I'm not letting them.
My brother is upset with everything that's happened. He's realized just how crappy it all has been and he wants nothing to do with it anymore. But since he lives with my mom, he can't "get away from it".
He has asked if he can come stay with us for a little bit. I spoke with hubby, and he's in agreement with me that my brother can come crash in our spare bedroom for as long as he wants. Brother works remotely, so it's no trouble for him to pick up and go. I believe he's making the trip today or tomorrow. Not entirely sure, but I expect crap to hit the fan when he arrives.
On a side note, hubby's stoked that my brother and I made up. The two usually game together, but haven't due to "the situation". He's downstairs right now setting up his man cave in preparation for my brother's arrival. I'm happy to see him so excited.  
Brother's Here: December 27, 2023
My brother rolled in late last night. He'd obviously been crying and when I opened the door, he just held me and sobbed. I'd never seen him like that before and soon both of us were just standing in the doorway crying into one another. He kept apologizing. Over and over again. Said he wasn't sure why he went with it. Just kept saying sorry. Hubby got him all set up in the spare bedroom while brother and I talked. My brother's a wreck. He's always been a big guy, but he's lost a lot of weight and his clothes just hang off him. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was on drugs. We talked for a little bit before bed and he re-explained everything for my husband. I'd told hubby the story, but it was just so weird that hearing it again helped.
This morning my brother was up at dawn making some coffee and getting his work day going. Hubby's off all week (lucky) so hubby made us working folk some pancakes and bacon. So far everything's peaceful. We've decided not to answer any calls from our family. They've been made aware that he arrived safely, and that we are going to spend the New Years together, and that we're not answering any calls until January 1st. They may text if they wish. I'm sure they're losing their minds. Serves them right.
Everyone, have a safe and happy new years! Don't drink and drive!  
Happy 2024!: January 2, 2024
I hope everyone has a safe and enjoyable holidays, and may the new year be full of joy and happiness!
Not too much of an update. Things here have been quiet. My brother's settled in nicely and he's a great housemate. Our place isn't very big, but we have full basement and a nice outside patio/porch area so it doesn't feel crowded at all with the extra addition. He's a quiet and clean guy. No hassle at all. He got some fresh clothes from the Walmart, a haircut, and trimmed his beard, so he's more "presentable" now. He's a lady killer when he gets cleaned up. He's made nice with the (very nosy, but kind) retired couple next door and is adapting to "city living" nicely.
Folks back home have been mostly well behaved. There's been a few texts back and forth, as we're not answering calls. Mom mainly wants to know when brother's coming back, but he's keen on staying here for a while. Mom said I can't "keep him" and I told her he's a grown ass man and can do what he wants. Brother says he has her blocked after she ORDERED him to return home.
Brother has tentatively asked if he could stay long term, should he decide to, or at least longer than a usual visitor would stay. Which we're fine with. He has a good paying job and could afford an apartment, but he's never lived on his own and I would guess he has some anxiety about it. Should that be the case, he'll start paying us some rent and we'd probably adjust to give him the basement as his own space.  
Had to change the locks: January 17, 2024
My brother is officially staying with us for the long haul. Hubby and him spent all Sunday organizing the basement and shifting things around so he now has his own area to be comfortable in. He's pretty handy and has also started fixing little things around our house. Our windows and doors have never closed and locked/unlocked smoother. He even fixed one of the closets we never use because we can never get the darn door open. Sadly, he also had to change the locks on our house and get us all new keys.
This is because while hubby and I were out this Saturday, the moms showed up. They'd been calling and texting us all week, but we weren't really answering them, so I guess the two decided to drive over and hash it out in person. They have emergency keys to my place, and just let themselves in. Brother told them to leave, they argued, and my nosy (but kind) neighbors called the police when they noticed the commotion. So, we get a call from neighbor's wife, return home to some cops in our yard, all the neighbors out "vacuuming their trees", and my nosy (but kind) neighbors standing on my porch with my brother behind them, doing their best Gandalf "You shall not pass" impression.
Had to talk with the cops, explain that we were having a family dispute and word vomited. I don't really remember what all I said, and was shaking a lot. Our local cops are really great. Fantastic guys and gals in blue, and took it all in stride. It's really cold here, so one had me join him in his cruiser with the heat on, and gave me a bottle of water to calm down while we talked. They asked if we wanted the moms trespassed but I wasn't sure if that counted as a criminal charge so just asked the cops if they could just make them leave, which the cops did with no fuss. I think the moms were shocked we were taking this so seriously. They didn't fight or scream at us. Just left quietly.
My dad promised me he'd make sure his wife left us alone. "Or else". He said he'd also have a stern talk with my mom. Him and I talked Sunday morning, and he seemed absolutely at the end of his rope. Husband jokingly told my dad he could move in, too. To which he declined.
Not sure where to go from here, but we're getting some ring cameras installed once they arrive. And everyone but my dad is blocked. Hopefully they all just leave us alone.  
Nothing New To Report: February 2, 2024
Had a lot of DMs for updates, but don't have much anything to report on. The moms are behaving themselves. All's quiet on the western front. Felt weird ignoring or copy/pasting "no updates" to everyone, so here's what we've been doing, should anyone care.
Dad got a new bird/squirrel feeder from Amazon (looks like a little picnic table for a child's dolly but has a mesh top for the bird seed. I think it's supposed to be for chickens?) It's totes adorbs. To his horror, it also works as a Cooper hawk feeder, so now he's "fortifying his defenses" and putting up some trellises around it. He'll have to wait till warmer weather before planting anything to grow on them.
We had some ring cameras installed and put in a motion-activated camera that double functions as a light bulb. It goes in the light fixture outside the front door and is pretty cool. Video quality isn't all that great, but it's a nice addition I guess. It does overlook the bird feeders, so I've been watching it on my lunch breaks on the days I have to go into the office.
Hubby and brother are feuding. They started a coop farm in Stardew Valley a few days ago and they both want to romance Leah. My husband confided in me that he's also been romancing Sebastian as a backup. I'm not sure why he's keeping this a secret, but he's pretty smug about it.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
fractal_frog I hope your dad can outsmart the hawks!

OOP: He'll be able to, I just know it. He's used to dealing with the wildlife and having hawks about, but he just wasn't expecting one to snag a meal right from his new feeder.
I told him it was "technically" still a bird feeder. Just....for bigger birds. Which he thought was funny. He said he might make a little "no hawks allowed" sign to put up next to it.

MissOP: keep the updates coming. the moms are so close to folding it's just a little bit more. LMAO also, the bro mance between your husband and brother is so cute. lol Honestly, I think your husband making sure he has a side piece of Sebastian is absolutely the play.

OOP: So far still no word from the moms, but I hope you're right. I would love an apology and for us to begin moving past this. But I NEED that apology. I feel selfish saying that, but I refuse to "be the bigger person" on this. I just won't.
As for my brother and husband, yeah, they're basically soul mates. The two hit it off immediately when they first met, and they've been thick as thieves for years.  

Update: February 27, 2024
My dad came out for a visit over the weekend. We had a good time and the weather was lovely for some grilling and beers. It was really nice to see him again and he seemed healthy and in good spirits.
Here's his report from back home: Step mom (dad's wife) has started to realize she's screwed up. I credit her change of mindset to the fact that my dad sat her down and laid it out for her: she leaves his kids alone, or she's getting divorce papers. That apparently shut her up right quick, because they had a prenup done when they married and I'm not sure the details of it, but it wouldn't end favorably for her. She hasn't worked in years, so I imagine she'd be eligible for alimony? But I'm not versed in any of that legal mumbojumbo. Dad didn't seem too worried about it, so I'm not gonna worry about it.
Step dad was pissed the police were involved in the last "mom visit" (despite no one getting arrested or anything) and was in a "the kids are out of control and need to be reigned back in" mindset. When my dad pointed out that "the kids" in question were all in their mid-30s, it took some of the steam out of stepdad's sails. According to my dad, even my mom looked a little surprised when he said that. So, part of me is wondering if a good chunk of this whole thing is my mom not truly realizing that her kids were grown, and no longer children she could make demands of. Both of the moms have left us alone. I expected my mom to continue to kick up a fuss, but I think the cops spooked her.
There was a wonderful suggestion by a comment or to get their pastor involved, which I passed along to my dad. Dad has since spoken to their pastor about everything. He's a young guy, relatively new to their church, and joked that his first month on the job he had to do 3 funerals in a row and his new "flock" were just dying to get away from him, so he's got a sense of humor which is nice. The new pastor agreed to sit down with everyone and help the family hash it all out in a true "Come to Jesus" type moment next month, so that maybe we could celebrate Easter together as our first holiday as a family. Dad said the pastor was aware our family was having some troubles, but unsure of exactly what was going on, and since he was new, the pastor didn't want to pry. He has also agreed to do a small service down at my uncle's maple grove later in the summer, as it usually floods and is a muddy mess all spring. According to my dad, my aunt and uncle are so over all the drama and just ready to move on, so I expect hugs and apologies from them when we next meet.
Stardew Valley Update: My brother was victorious in the grand fight for Leah. It was a hard battle. Well fought. When my husband exposed his plans to woo Sebastian all this time, it was quite the betrayal. Dramatics aside, their farm is really cute and I'm so happy they're enjoying the game!  
Update 4/1 - Final one I think - April 1, 2024
Happy April Fools everyone! I hope you all check your caramel apples for stray onions before taking a bite! I also hope your Easter weekend was a delightful one.
It is with great joy that I tell you all about our most recent update! Possibly even a conclusion to this whole ordeal.
The entire family (aunt, uncle, moms, dads, brother, me, husband) and pastor met at my dad's house and we all sat down to hash the situation out. As expected from what my dad said, my aunt and uncle greeted us all with apologies and hugs, which was nice. My uncle usually helps host the Easter egg hunts with the church and he brought our Easter baskets to give to us in case us kids weren't sticking around the for the weekend. I'm not sure why but seeing it made me tear up and feel stupid, because it was just a basket of candy but it meant a lot to me for some reason.
The pastor led us in a prayer and talked about forgiveness and such. He then asked us all to talk one at a time about how we're feeling and what we want the end result of today to be. No one was allowed to interrupt so everyone got to talk. It was nice. The consensus for the group was that most everyone wanted things to go back to "normal". The only ones who had any variance off this was my mom and step dad. They both wanted all us kids to move back to the area.
The pastor asked them why they wanted us back, and neither could give a good reason other than "because family", and the pastor asked us if we were thriving where we were. And we said we were. He asked if we were happy there. Which we were. He then asked my mom and step dad if they wanted us to give up our happiness to make them happy.
And Mom broke down and said no. We all had a good cry. The pastor then asked about the funeral and lies that led up to it and followed it and how it made us all feel and what we wished we'd done differently if we had the chance. It was all very emotional, but in a good way, you know? Everyone apologized and admitted they f-ed up and did a really crappy thing.
We all talked for a long, long time and the pastor was a great mediator. Eventually we all reached some sort of resolution and I think we're good now. Emotions are still high and a little raw in areas, but we stayed for Easter weekend and had a nice time. We're going to keep moving forward slowly and try to repair the relationship, but I believe we're well and truly out of the woods.
As for my brother, he's still staying with us, and mom will stop trying to guilt trip him back home. He's thinking about renting a small apartment in our area but we're not pushing him to make a decision. He knows he's welcome to stay as long as he wants. I think he wants to try dating (he's had a few girlfriends but never anything serious) and is embarrassed to bring any girls around our place, lol. He's been going to a few random classes/bookclubs at the local library for something free to do and hitting it off with all the little old ladies who attend, and they keep trying to hook him up with girls his age who they know. He has been on a few lunches/coffee dates with a couple girls, but I think he's too embarrassed by the attention to give it a real try at "dating" any of them. He's happy, though, which is all I could ask for.
I'm not sure if there will be any more updates, as I think it's all be resolved about as much as it can be at the moment. I wanted to thank you all for your words of advice and giving me a place to vent and scream into the void. Please be kind to one another and to yourselves. Thank you.
Relevant Comments
emjkr: What a nice and hopeful update, I’m really glad you stuck to your guns when everyone threw sanity out the window!
But, could your mother explain how she thought this would work out in her favour?

OOP: I don't think mom thought too far ahead. I believe she assumed it would all just magically work out the way she wanted it to. She said she wasn't sure what she was expecting to happen (which I think was a lie, but I wasn't going to push it).

mak_zaddy: This was a great update! But ummmmmm no stardew valley update? What gives? Has Sebastian been woo’ed? How’s Leah? What’s happening?

OOP: Sebastian has indeed been wooed (and whoohooed) There's kids and cows and chickens. The two are still having a wonderful time at the game. They're working on completing the community center but it's slow going as they aren't trying to speedrun and just doing things as they want. I believe they're thinking about going into the desert mines once they complete that bundle, but they're both super chicken shit about it!

-my-cabbages: I don't really understand what you had to apologize for ... but I'm glad you're happy and the situation seems to be settling down

OOP: There wasn't much of an apology on my end, as everyone agreed I had done nothing wrong. Mine was more of a "I'm sorry you didn't feel as though I would listen." Type apology, which I don't really believe is a proper apology because apologies like that push the blame back on another. I mostly expressed my feelings and the shock of it all, and how betrayed I felt.  

----NEW UPDATE----

Small, happy update: May 7, 2024 (1 month later)
Things as wonderful as the moment. Still doing baby steps with The Moms. We're texting and talking on the phones more, which is nice. Very civil.
Dad "accidentally" bought a bunch of hand crafted bird feeders at a craft fair. By accidentally, I mean: he had a little too much fun in the beer tent, went for a stroll while step mom wasn't looking, and stumbled upon a guy's booth and bought "one of each". He wouldn't tell me how MANY "one of each" was, but he cackled like a witch when I asked. Step mom said she's forcing him to give a few to me, so I'm expecting a delivery or a Dad-visit any day now.
My brother is officially "going steady" with a girl. We've met her a few times and she seems like a real sweetheart. She's our age and has a little boy (5-6 years old, I haven't asked) from a previous relationship (The dad's not in the picture from what I can gather). She's the granddaughter of one of his Book Club members, so the old ladies made good match makers in the end. The relationship is still very new and I'm routing for them.
No new Stardew Valley updates. Work has been a little crazy lately and I haven't been able to play much of anything, and brother has been distracted by his new lady friend. So, husband finally started Baldur's Gate 3, and fell for Gale's "magic trick" so now those two are a thing. I expect him to be sufficiently distracted from reality for the next few weeks.
 

DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP

I’ve tried going to 2 places on my own in Beaverton and then in Portland and each time I just left with an uneven bowl cut. Even after trying to politely ask for them to fix what they did and try to get closer to what I showed them. I tip well and tried to go to ‘high-end’ places, and I know that this specific cut does look good with my face, but nobody cuts my hair right even when I show them 5 different pictures of the same haircut.

Uhh, are my parents abusive?? Idk if they are or not.. uh they are extremely homophobic and transphobic, my dad threatened to kick me into the basement because I told my younger sibling girls can marry girls. My mom and dad have screamed at me just because I didn't have my hair up and I've been beaten and yelled at for not smiling in pictures. I've been hit with a wooden stick thing, walker, before, because my sisters were fighting or smth. My mom yells/screams at me for little things. Just today some of my friends reported my self harming and depression to a school counselor and they called my dad, and he beat me and said "if I hear that shit again, I'm gonna hurt you" so tomorrow I have to pick up every stick and leaf in the backyard and I'm grounded, very grounded.. My parents aren't always mean, beating/hitting is the punishment here but they are nice sometimes. They aren't alcoholics or anything. They can be nice, they just don't seem to care about my mental health, or anything I like/wanna do. My mom said she sees an "image" for me in the future and me being a trans masc doesn't fit her image, as well as me liking same gendesex. But they are nice most the time?? My dad will get grumpy/mad at everyone when he is in a bad mood which is.. daily, happens at some point in the day. I just don't know if I'd consider them abusive?? These are just some things they do any well, it seems physical punishment is normal?? Idk, I like my parents when they aren't yelling at me/in a bad mood. They can be pretty nice. I don't remember the last time I've had loving affection from them but like, I am 14 so ig it's normal, plus I have younger siblings they have to give attention to. They think about my interests and seem to care, well, my interests and likes they approve of, like drawing. My mom won't let me get a haircut cus I'll cut it too short and she won't like it :/ she said she'll take me to get highlights tho so, ig I have that.. won't get rid of my gender dysphoria but according to her it will make me feel better about it so.

These are sneek peak pictures from the last two episodes of Young Sheldon. Most of them are from George Cooper Sr's funeral.

1. Sheldon next to his father's casket
   
2. Mary, Memaw, and Georgie greet Dr Sturgis and Dr Linkletter at George's funeral
   
3. Mary checking on Missy
   
4. Sheldon seated in front of Dr Sturgis. Billy Sparks and Mrs Sparks sitting behind Dr Sturgis.
   
5. Memaw comforting Mary who struggles delivering George's ulegy.
   
6. Memaw visits Mary at George's grave
   
7. 30 years later (2024) Sheldon finishes his memoir. Sheldon now wearing his father's haircut. His wife Amy stands next to him.
   
8. Amy looking at picture frame on Sheldon's desk.
   
9. Picture Amy was looking at was the photo Mary took of Sheldon and his dad before leaving for Cape Canaveral to go see the space shuttle lanch.
   

I pulled up to the Lake Mart gas station convenience store and parked near the entrance in front of the ice machine. It wasn’t a parking spot but I have a small car, a Miata, so I figured no one would mind, plus I would just be in and out real quick - all I needed was a pack of smokes and two white Monster energy drinks. I flung open the door and got out with ease since I had the top down(when the top is up it’s like crawling into a coffin which is kinda cozy in its own way but still hard to get in and out of). I was wearing cheap, black Amazon sweatpants and crocs and a very expensive beige long sleeve V cut sweater. It was a mismatch of the highest order but I didn’t give a shit. “That ain’t a parking spot buddy!” I hear coming from the Ford F-250 filling up with poor-grade 87 unleaded at the pump, the truck isn’t even a manly diesel. I glare at him and yell back: “How’s the ride in that thing? Probably bounces you around a lot on these roads and reminds you of riding your boyfriend.” A very overweight shit kicker type of fella walks around from the side of the F-250. His boots were covered in dried mud along with his Carrhart overalls. It wasn’t fresh mud but definitely from the previous week’s worth of laboring somewhere horrible. “What did you say to me!?” He bellowed. There was some sort of food stain on the front of his T-shirt, possibly mayonnaise or some other condiment. Strange tho since it was only 7:00AM so he clearly wore the shirt the day or days before. “Oh, sorry.” I said to him after seeing his size. “I didn’t realize you were so big, you must be more of a doggy style power bottom type.” “What the fuck does that mean?” he said to me. “It means you’re too fucking fat to be on top of your boyfriend. He rails you from behind.” “Oh that’s it you fuck!” he yelled and started to run at me. Oh shit I thought, I really let my mouth get me into a situation for no real reason. But actually, no fuck this guy, he started it by telling me I can’t park in front of the ice machine. That’s clearly a violation of the Bill of Rights and flagrant treading on me. He was fairly fast for a fat guy but I knew I was faster and had more endurance. I stood there at first near the front of my Miata and he was running full speed and as he closed the distance he stretched his arms out with the intention of grabbing me(to probably try and make out with me). At the last second I strafed to the right behind the safety of the front left panel of my car. Him being inertia laden, was unable to change direction in time to grab me. His arms flailed to his left at me but missed by a wide margin, He contorted his body in trying to grab me in such a way it forced his legs to cross with the next stride and he tripped over his own feet, took two awkward stumbles and ate shit on the asphalt parking lot, landing on his right shoulder before tumbling over himself and into the ice machine. “Dude you just ate shit!” I said to him pointing and laughing. “You’re probably used to it though when you eat your boyfriend’s ass every night.” “You fucking goddamn…” He said as he got to one knee. “Oh no, don’t propose to me, I’m already in a committed relationship…with your mom.” I replied. He finally got to his feet and despite it being only 50 feet that he ran, he was already wheezing. He reached to his right pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife, maybe 3 inches long only but long enough to do some serious damage, then charged at me again. I ran to the rear of my car and put the car between me and him, he tried to slash at me across the trunk but I easily dodged it as he came up feet short. He started chasing me again and I ran to the front of my car and as he ran up to me again, I ran to the rear of my car like a toddler playing “you can’t catch me”. I started laughing at this thought and each time he ran a pass at me I said that to him. “You can’t catch me big fella! You can’t catch me!” I didn’t have to put forth too much effort but I could tell it was taking its toll on him. He had the stubbornness of a retarded mule and refused to give up to save some sense of pride and honor. We played this game for maybe five complete laps around my car before he realized he had no chance of getting to me. He paused for a moment to decide what to do next to save face and not look like such a fat bitch then it donned on him. “You little fuck.” The sweat was pouring down his forehead. “You got a spare tire in the trunk of this shitbox rice burning beanermobile?” He said and eye’d up my right front tire and pulled his arm back. There wasn’t much I could do so as he began to lunge his arm forward to puncture my tire, I let out the loudest and highest pitch rape scream I could make. It was an ear piercing banshee scream and it must have startled him because he missed the tire and hit the fender causing his sweaty hand to slip from the grip and violently slide down the grip and onto the blade of his knife cutting a large gash in his fingers and palm. “FUCKKKKK!” he screamed, still clutching the knife. The Indian clerk that owned and operated the store must have been alerted by my banshee scream and came rushing out the door. “What going on here!?” he yelled, looking concerned and confused. He saw I was standing there and recognized me immediately. I had to be one of the biggest spenders at the store, buying at least a pack of smokes a day and two energy drinks like clockwork and very often getting food for lunch and always paid cash which they loved. They liked me and knew me as well as you’d know a frequent customer. He saw the fat fella was holding a knife but also bleeding. “He chased me and tried to slash my tire.” I said and the clerk nodded and believed me. “That’s not a parking spot!” the big fella said. “He park there every day, never cause any problem. You buddy, you not welcome here. Go now, leave or I call the police!” The big fella glared at me holding his bleeding palm with his other hand now to apply pressure. I didn’t say a word, I just grinned at the big fella and he turned around and went back to his truck, got in and drove off, peeling out with one wheel as he left. I went inside and the clerk apologized to me for the behavior of the big fella even though it wasn’t his fault obviously. I assured him it wasn’t an issue and got my normal supplies and left. I got in my car and hit the vape(I won’t smoke in the car), started the engine and put on some Tool. My adrenaline was still high so I took a deep breath, hit the vape again, and started the engine then pulled out of my personal parking spot. I pulled out onto the road, looking both ways first but not paying attention to the vehicle far down the road and started my short drive home. It was one complete Tool song for the round trip if I drove like a sane person and I causally accelerated. I hadn’t made it a mile before I noticed a F-250 in my rear view mirror growing in size rapidly. It was the big fella and he was going to run me down in a way that wouldn’t exhaust or embarrass him. “Oh fuck” I said and took another vape hit then downshifted into 3rd gear and put the pedal to the floor. The Miata’s engine woke from its slumber and quickly ran the RPM’s up to 6000, putting me back in my seat the entire time. I shifted into 4th and floored it again. The road was awful and full of potholes but the sporty nimbleness of the Miata made avoiding the major potholes and bumps a fun exercise in technical driving. The big fella had a huge run up on me however and was still closing the distance on me even though I was speeding along at close to 90 miles per hour. Either he was an idiot or didn’t know the roads or likely both but as I glanced in the rearview mirror I could see the truck take hit after hit from the potholes. It lurched and bounced each time but the venerable American truck took each hit in stride and held its ground with me. I was doing 105 MPH now on a shitty backcountry road in a 45MPH zone and the F-250’s speed limiter likely kicked in at that speed so I maintained 105 as we approached the curves. I was nervous because I had only one option and that was to navigate a downhill S-turn meant for 35MPH at 105MPH while avoiding potholes that would tear off one of my tires. If I slowed down any, this maniac behind me could plow into me or give me the Pitt Maneuver and spin me out which would inevitably lead to a rollover where I definitely would die. “Fuck it” I said, grabbed another gear and started pulling away from the F-250. There was another option that just came to me ¼ mile from the S-turn and immediately opted for it. Despite the pain of sacrificing it, I lobbed a full 16oz can of white Monster out of the top of my car like a hand grenade. It crashed into the truck’s grill and penetrated through the grill and into the radiator like an armor piercing anti-tank cannon shell. A plume of steam erupted from the truck and I let off the throttle only to see him start gaining ground. I put it to the floor again and clenched my asshole as I was seconds away from barreling down upon the S-turn. I could see far enough ahead that there was no oncoming traffic so I steered as far left as I could to get the best angle entering the turn. The car’s lane detection warning system beeped at me and I told it to fuck off, I was racing for my life here. I tracked into the turn, apexed in the corner and tracked back out into the next turn. I felt myself get lighter when I entered the turn because it was downhill but the Miata stayed true and glued to the road like a Formula 1 car. In the first part of the S-turn, I had to keep the center line in the center of my car because of the massive canyons in the asphalt on the right tire track that Penn Dot hadn’t addressed in several years. There were more potholes but they were minor and at this speed the car glided over them. I had made it halfway through the S-turn and now steered left again and apexed perfectly in the outward curve and accelerated out of it. The next stretch had mild curves that I wasn’t worried about and I got back in my proper lane, now about to check my mirror to see what the big fella’s fate was. I heard the tires squeal as he tried to slow down to make the first curve of the S-turn. He knew nothing of racing despite having decals on his back window of some local hayseed race car driver. When he braked in the middle of the turn, all the weight shifted forward and he lost all rear grip. Combining that with trying to steer right, caused the rear end of the truck to slide out from behind him and he spun 90 degrees. The left front tire caught the canyon pothole and sent the truck into a barrel roll down the hill. I watched it all in my mirror and I slammed on my breaks. The truck barrel rolled at least a half dozen times before hitting the left side guard rail and bounced into the middle of the road. Steam was billowing from the front of the truck and I could see all the airbags had deployed. I pulled the e-brake, did a half turn to slow down and stop, smoke seethed from my tires and when the car came to a halt in the middle of the road, I put on my 4-ways. I then heard a woman yell to me from the nearby house. “Oh my god!” She yelled. “Are you okay!” She saw the smoke and must have thought there was a fire or something coming from my car. “Yeah I’m fine, but that fella probably isn’t” I said motioning to the heap of metal that used to be a F-250. “I saw the whole thing! I was getting my mail when I heard an engine revving”, the woman said, “Why were you going so fast!? Racing?” She was accusatory and slightly distressed or even angry. I turned my head away from the wreck and looked at her. She was in her late 20s, blonde hair, large and possibly fake breasts, blue eyes and wearing the cutest and most sensual peach colored sundress. If she had makeup on it was minor at most and her face held the natural beauty of an entire Miss Universe contest. “I was racing for my life. The guy is a lunatic, he tried to stab me at the gas station then started chasing me. I knew he couldn’t handle that turn but I knew my car could. Looks like I was right.” I said to her. She looked at me seemingly satisfied with my response but asked, “Why did he try to stab you?” “Because I called him gay.” She laughed and smiled thinking I was joking and was about to say something else when we both heard the big fella yell for help. “We prob should check on him” I said and took a deep hit from my vape exhaling more white vapor than was coming from the wrecked truck. A car pulled up and the driver asked if anyone called 911, I said no and he started dialing. “I’m Michelle”, she said and extended her left hand to me to help me out of the car. She presented her left hand palm down so I could clearly see that she didn’t have a wedding ring. I took her hand and got out of the car then released her hand. It was just a short moment but it lasted for decades. I felt an electricity in her touch, the softness of her skin but the strength and firmness of an unyielding woman who was not unsure of herself. She was breeding stock and with each step she took, her breasts bounced slightly and jiggled revealing that they were indeed real and without a doubt perfect. “I’ve never seen anyone drive that fast through that turn before.” she continued. There’s at least a dozen wrecks here a year from people doing the speed limit and you were going how fast?” “105” I replied. “Maybe 110 when I finally hit the brakes.” “You’re insane.” She said and smiled, then adjusted her sundress, undoing one of her buttons revealing a little bit more cleavage. Her nipples were perky and nearly penetrated the fabric. “Its hot this morning…What kind of car is that? It looks German.” “It’s a Miata. Its basically a super car. It has 180hp but don’t let that fool you, the car only weighs a little more than 2200 pounds. Okay, so you've got to understand why the Mazda Miata is such a big deal—it's not just a car; it's a whole vibe! Picture this: It's super lightweight, right? That makes it incredibly fun to drive; it’s like it's practically gliding along the road. And it's got this perfectly balanced rear-wheel drive, so it handles like a dream, especially on curves. Seriously, it's like dancing... but with a car!” I paused for a few moments to catch my breath then added “Plus, it’s affordable, which is crazy considering how sporty it is. It’s like the everyman’s sports car. You can actually own a roadster without breaking the bank!” “Oh well, that’s nice I guess.” She said and continued, “I have to go now actually, I need to…like do some…chores…I mean get ready for work. Bye.” She buttoned up her sundress then ran off back to her driveway. “Are you a fucking idiot?” I heard the big fella yell. I watched as Michelle sprinted up her driveway, not looking back once even though sirens were blaring and the firetrucks and ambulances had arrived. “You had her melting in your hand and you sperged out like a retard about your car? What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t even want to kick your ass anymore, that was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

I 'M32' seen my 'F34' of 2 years texting her EX 'M40'of 7 years, even though she said she hates him, Should I address her?
GF of 2 years has gone out her way to tell me that she hates her ex, who is also the father of their child, who is 11 years old now. When we first started talking, She had only communicated in terms of dropping their kid off with him so the kid could go with his dad for the summer or winter break. There was one time I had made plans after a Christmas dinner for us to go together to drop her son off with his dad and then for us to go to the getaway cabin, we're walking towards the car she made a last minute decision to go by herself to drop her kid off because the father wanted to spend Christmas with her and the kid at the hotel before the kid and the dad were to go back to New York for winter break. I got upset and left that night. Throughout our 2 year relationship, she has told me countless times that she hates the father of her kid and even sometimes wishes that he can die. I understand she has untreated trauma from him that has caused her tonresent and despise him (My persepctive) yet it bothered me that yesterday while she was showing me a tiktok, A text popped up from the dad of her kid on her phone screen.
She then went to the bathroom and I was curious to see what they possibly had to say to each other because the last thing I heard her tell me was that he is a peice of shit and she can't stand him or his family.
I go to the text log and see that he has sent pictures of his face with a fresh haircut and said, "This is the most handsomely 40 year old she's ever seen." She doesn't agree, but she egs him on like "aaaaaaah maybe," then they proceed to just chat about things and laugh along about stuff with a lot of emojis. Now, from my perspective, if you said you "Hated this man," why are you getting chummy and laughing with him and reminiscing over things together.
What do I do?, how should I take it? I am so lost here. . I just need some guidance.

As the title says, I’ve accidentally picked up a pair of ravens as bodyguards for my chicken flock. I had some big meatballs of ground beef scrap I normally feed my dog, but since he doesn’t like them I decided to throw them every so often to my chickens as a frozen treat to occupy their time. The other day I saw an enormous bird, which I assumed to be an eagle, dive into the run and then fly off. As I ran to the porch to get a better look, assuming the worst, I saw it was actually a raven with a big meatball in his beak. Just now I was on the porch again passively watching the chickens do their thing when suddenly a hawk from a nearby tree dove towards my girls. In mid-air my new raven bro intercepts and a dazzling show of aerial acrobatics ensued. I watched for 10 more minutes as the raven just followed the hawk from tree to tree being a pain in the ass. Once the hawk had given up the hunt I went inside and grabbed a meatball and lobbed it into the yard. Raven-bro happily grabbed it and took off into the woods.
I hope this will be a long term thing because hawks are the bane of my existence when it comes to chicken-keeping so far. I lose way more girls to hawks than any of the other predators that share my space.
Just thought I’d share this cool story, I’ll try and grab a picture next time.

I have extremely thick wavy hair just beyond shoulder length and was heat styling it most days to make it more presentable at work. I've damaged it pretty badly and it's now incredibly frizzy. Despite cycling through many different products to repair it, it's now super unruly no matter what I try and I think I'm going to need to get a trim and consultation at a salon. The trouble is... as it may be clear from my lack of providing a picture for reference, I have terrible anxiety and hate taking pictures (also have privacy concern) as well as nearly having a panic attack every time I get a haircut.
I have had it trimmed twice a year from my girlfriend for 3 years and she does a good job but the damage needs to be addressed by a professional. I thought maybe to get the whole treatment, Olaplex and long hair cut with a stylist at a good unisex salon recommended by a male friend in my city, but I feel super insecure about being in the white room making small talk whilst looking at my ugly mug and fucked up hair in the mirror, let alone getting such a feminine treatment done to my hair while every can see. I know people probably don't give a shit but I can't shake that feeling once I'm there my social anxiety and body dysmorphia really is that bad...
Should I just bite the bullet and book the appointment? I know I'll feel better afterwards but I will probably be extremely uncomfortable whilst getting it done...

I've been having the same guy cut my hair for years, but sometimes he's out of town or otherwise not available, so once in a great while, I'll go somewhere else. The haircut I always get is a basic one, it's called an Ivy League cut and it just means shorter on the sides/back and longer on the top and you brush it back or whatever, a lot of men have this haircut, it's very common.
One time about 15 years ago, my guy wasn't available and I went to somebody else. When I told him the haircut, he made a weird face like he'd never heard of it. I looked through one of his books and showed him a picture, and I explained, it's short on the sides and longer on the top. He smiled and nodded like suddenly he knew exactly what I wanted, turned me away from the mirror and completely shaved off the sides of my hair to the skin, all the way up above my ears, so it basically looked like a comically short bowl cut. It was ridiculous. I had to have my hair cut very short all over in order to blend it in, and when my hair is short on the top, it sticks straight out like Sid Vicious. Takes forever to get it long enough to lie down again.
Anyway, it was annoying and I haven't forgotten it because of that. So about a week ago, I go to make an appointment with my guy and he's in his home country for another couple weeks (he's Chinese). So I just stopped by one of those cheapo places where they cut everyone's hair and it's like $30 or whatever. I came in armed with an image search on my phone full of pictures of this haircut, which again, is already very common and simple.
I show them to the lady who called me up when it was my turn and she scrunched up her nose and looked from the phone to my face like 3x, as if she was baffled by something. So I said, in the most cheerful and polite way possible, "Hey, if you think this looks like it will be a problem, No worries. I can wait or go somewhere else. I have a guy who does it for me all the time, he's just out of town."
The lady was like "What do you mean, of course I can do it!" as if she hadn't made that weird exaggerated face looking back and forth thing.
So I just said, okay, you looked a little concerned there, so I wanted to be sure, and I told her that once before, someone had made a face like that, and I walked out of the barbershop looking like one of the 3 stooges. She seemed okay after that, and led me to the chair.
At first I just sat there quietly in the chair, but I kept noticing her making little sounds, I didn't know if she was singing or clearing her throat or what, but it was a little odd how often she was doing it, so I just casually started talking about my kids, because that seems like a pretty innocuous subject. She looked my age or possibly a little older - I'm late 50s. She said "Any grandkids?" and I said no, both of my girls are still in their early 20's. And then she acted surprised and straight up insinuated that I looked way too old to have kids in their 20's. I don't really give a shit, I smoked for 30 years, I'm sure I do look older than I am, but ya don't say that to somebody! I didn't react in any way, I just said "yeah we got a late start" because it's true, we had issues with that and didn't have our first until we were married like a decade.
And then I realized that the sounds were her making these weird giggling noises. I thought she was maybe listening to the next chair over (2 ladies who were talking a lot) but her giggle noises didn't line up with anything they were saying. I didn't really talk to her much after that, but she did a decent job on my hair (not like my guy but not embarrassing haha) so when she was done, I thanked her and went to pay and on the way up I said, hope I didn't offend you, it's just that once something like that happens, you want to be careful from then on. And she waits until I give her the money and her tip and goes, "I've been cutting hair for 60 years, I know how to do that haircut."
I was just like "Apparently so!" and pointed at my head, with my tongue hanging out because at this point I was like where are the hidden cameras, she cannot possibly still be upset! This has to be a joke but she was still acting haughty about it. WHY?? What on earth was so terrible about me making sure she knew that haircut?

Welcome to the Weekly Employment Question Thread!
This thread is where you can ask questions about joining, training to become, testing, disqualifications/qualifications, and other questions that would be removed as individual posts per Rule 1.
The answer to almost every question you can ask will be "It depends on the department". Your first step is to look up the requirements for your department, state/province, and country.
As always, please attempt to resource information on your own first, before asking questions. We see many repeat questions on this sub that have been answered multiple times.
Frequently Asked Questions:

• I want to be a Firefighter, where do I start: Every Country/State/Province/County/City/Department has different requirements. Some require you only to put in an application. Others require certifications prior to being hired. A good place to start is researching the department(s) you want to join. Visit their website, check their requirements, and/or stop into one of their fire stations to ask some questions.
• Am I too old: Many departments, typically career municipal ones, have an age limit. Volunteer departments usually don't. Check each department's requirements.
• I'm in high school, What can I do: Does your local department have an explorer's program or post? If so, join up. Otherwise, focus on your grades, get in shape and stay in shape, and most importantly: stay out of trouble.
• I got in trouble for [insert infraction here], what are my chances: Obviously, worse than someone with a clean record, which will be the vast majority of your competition. Tickets and nonviolent misdemeanors may not be a factor, but a major crime (felonies), may take you out of the running. You might be a nice person, but some departments don't make exceptions, especially if there's a long line of applicants with clean records. See this post... PSA: Stop asking “what are my chances?”
• I have [insert medical/mental health condition here], will it disqualify me: As a general rule, if you are struggling with mental illness, adding the stress of a fire career is not a good idea. As for medical conditions, you can look up NFPA1582 for disqualifying conditions, but in general, this is not something Reddit can answer for you. Many conditions require the input of a medical professional to determine if they are disqualifying. See this post... PSA: Don't disqualify yourself, make THEM tell you "no".
• What will increase my chances of getting hired: If there's a civil service exam, study for it! There are many guides online that will help you go over all those things you forgot such as basic math and reading. Some cities even give you a study guide. If it's a firefighter exam, study for it! For the CPAT (Physical Fitness Test), cardio is arguably the most important factor. If you're going to the gym for the first time during the hiring process, you're fighting an uphill battle. Get in shape and stay in shape. Most cities offer preference points to military veterans.
• How do I prepare for an interview: Interviews can be one-on-one, or in front of a board/panel. Many generic guides exist to help one prepare for an interview, however here are a few good tips:

1. Dress appropriately. Business casual at a minimum (Button down, tucked in long sleeve shirt with slacks and a belt, and dress shoes). Get a decent haircut and shave.
2. Practice interview questions with a friend. You can't accurately predict the off-the-wall questions they will ask, but you can practice the ones you know they probably will, like why do you want to be a Firefighter, or why should we hire you?
3. Scrub your social media. Gone are the days when people in charge weren't tech-savvy. Don't have a perfect interview only for your chances of being hired gone to zero because your Facebook or Instagram has pictures of you getting blitzed. Set that stuff to private and leave it that way.

Please upvote this post if you have a question. Upvoting this post will ensure it sticks around for a bit after it is removed as a Sticky, and will allow for greater visibility of your question.
And lastly, If you're not 100% sure of what you're talking about, leave it for someone who does

Hi everybody! I need help remembering a book I read when I was younger.
I believe I got this book when I was in middle school/early high school, so the book was likely published between 2013 - 2016, give or take a year or two.
I remember that the book took place at a private school. The main character was a young girl who recently transferred to the school and joined the drama club. They were putting on a play (I believe it was Hamlet?) and there was a serial killer at their school unaliving kids in the play and live-tweeting it. I remember one kid, who was one of the main characters good friends, was found under a bridge. There was also a rivalry at this school between them and the public school in town and the main character was friends with a kid from the public school even though it was frowned upon, and they were also in love at the end I think???
I remember that the cover had yellow writing and a picture of a young girl with a shoulder-length haircut.
I’ve tried GoodReads, book stores, and searching the details I remember on Google, and I am at a loss. Any help is greatly appreciated!

In my experience, there are many instances where service providers exploit your fears and emotions to persuade you to use their services. I’ve personally encountered this at salons and gyms. At the salon, the hairdresser often points out my dandruff which occurs due to helmet, suggesting it could lead to some worst case disease, or recommends that I dye my greying hair which I don't need at all. I'm comfortable with my looks also I’m a 30-year-old married person with a child, and I don’t feel the need to impress anyone. These salons literally charge 2000K for haircut , shave, facial and dyeing includes which is ok to charge but inducing fear among the customer is their strategy.
Yesterday, I joined a gym near which is my first experience in gym, and the personal trainer immediately started commenting on the fat around my belly, implying it could lead to health issues. I had informed him that I’m pre-diabetic that was the main reason behind joining a gym, and he began painting a grim picture of how it could worsen to the point of needing insulin injections and all the gory details of diabetes. The thing is I reverse my diabtes with walking and diet. But I can't do that in public park in this scorching sun so thats the reason I joined AC Gym where I can workout well. He wants me to pick him as a personal trainer so I can loose weight. But its costly like hell.
In essence, these service providers seem to capitalize on their customers’ fears to persuade us to purchase their products or services.
How about your experience