Beach reading slogans

everything is the same. I visualize the months and seasons on a wheel and we are just going in circles.... same days, months, holidays, vacations, foods, beaches, people, places, things... there is nothing like........ new. People look the same, sound the same.. act the same... / we even all have the same like.. reactions + emotions to things.. / Im sure youre like.. "ok so?" ... well isn't that fucking boring and predictable to you? even the unpredictable things are pretty predictable. Just *sigh..... / people share the same stories of love, abuse, neglect, success, failures, breakups...we all have the same story lines for things... yawn.
Its too expensive to have a family and invest in children - like it's smarter to absolutely not do that. / The dating world is volatile for folks.. even though I do have a successful relationship... even that gets boring.. the successfulness. am I craving chaos? I already know the consequences.. not worth it... / see? boring.
I should be grateful and I am... but even that gets boring.
I have the good paying job (that I hate; typical) and the successful side business (that I should go into full time but I'm lazy) and some pets (I got a dog when I was on antidepressants, love her, would not have comitted to this otherwise).. I can afford to eat out (same boring places) and I have a fancy car (ok?)... I live clean and organized and have nice things (this is actually important to me)............. yawn, I know - thats what I'm saying.
I did have to work really hard for this boring life.. even though I'm deeply nihlistic.. idk what keeps me going its like a constant cycle of ..... everyhting is pointless so why not live... but then someone dies and I'm like .. lucky you! It was all for nothing, see! - & then Im like.. damn... I'm crazy lol - & then I laugh it off and continue going around and around the wheel. yawn.
Am I Ok? lmfaoo prob not, oh well.. thanks for reading.

Well. Tomorrow was the day. David was aware of the looming deadline over his head, but the fact that it was tomorrow felt more real. David spent most of the day taking a moment to himself. From the Cyclops, to the chimera, to his two quests, he never felt like he did enough. His quests were just glorified scouting expeditions, so he hardly had any Kleos from that. Every injury, every broken bone, every cut and scrape kept him up at night as he wondered if the oath would kill him or if his journey would be the one that would be his end. And at the same time, a question ran through his head, every single day of his time he was in camp.
Was David a hero? To be honest, he wasn't sure.
All his sweat, all his tears, all the times he fought through the pain of broken bones, the times he fought back his anxiety. He refused for it to come to nothing. Even when he felt like he would end up like he’d fail. That he'd end up a cautionary tale for campers to refuse to do Styx Oaths, he still carried onwards.
His mood soured even more as he remembered Alkis. Hm…he wondered what was up with his friend/mentor. As his oath got closer and closer, he saw less and less of the son of Dionysus. A part of him wondered if he distanced himself, in case that he would end up having to deal with David if his oath were to be broken. Whatever happened to him, he hoped that he was doing well. He heard he was doing better at Olympus, back when camp visited. A shame he couldn’t be there to catch up.
As David’s mind continued to muse, another uncomfortable part of him realized that the oath that caused him so much stress might not have been such a bad thing. He found friends, and a girlfriend on his journey. Even his body changed, his physique turning more into lean muscle as he grew to be well over six feet in height. Win or lose his little wager, one thing was for sure, David changed for the better at the end of it.
Well, it still wasn't hard confirmation, which was killing him. Self-improvement was great and all, but David really hoped his efforts were enough to not get eternal damnation. In the last week, David spent the last few days in a state of peace, more or less. Like when you finish a final exam. No matter what happened, David couldn't stop it now.
So, Was David a hero? Well, he did all he could to try. The rest was up to fate.
But, David was not the only one with their mind on the next day. To his surprise, both of his best friends, Cel and Jules worked on the beach to set up a bit of an early birthday party. They set up a good amount of streamers and balloons on the beach, David’ favorite music and set up lots of sweets, with David’s favorite food, al pastor. It was nice to know that, even if ths was his last day before damnation, he could enjoy himself.
Eventually, as the birthday party went on, David stood up to give a speech. He gave a somewhat awkward smile as the night went on, well aware of his time that may be coming to the end.
“So…almost eighteen years. If you told me when I came to camp that I'd make a dumb bet in front of my dad and risk my eternal damnation, I'd probably think you were crazy. And maybe run away. But yeah, uh. Word of advice: please don't do a Styx oath. It's not just a spicy way to say I swear. Trust me, the stress will kill you.”
He chuckled as he took a drink of water. Clearing his throat, he continued to talk.
“But, to my family, to my friends, to Ellie. Thank you all, for helping me. I'm so lucky to have all of you in my corner. I've done all I could to uphold my end of the oath.”
He took a shaky breath, giving a smile that he tried to be reassuring, but it came out as more nervous than anything else.
“To be honest a part of me feels that I could have done more. But, whatever happens, happens. I just wish I could have had more…ah. You know…this is getting really heavy and like, I'd rather not so uh. Ahem. Everyone, please. Enjoy yourself. There's cake still I think…”
As the night went on, the son of Ares opened presents. He wasn't sure how practical this was, if he was being honest considering there was a non zero chance he wouldn't be able to enjoy it. But, he appreciated the gesture so, he gratefully opened each one. A Mythomagic box set, some Yu-Gi-Oh cards, some celestial bronze weapons… as he opened and opened every gift, there was one more box he saw. It was the size of a shoe box, in bronze giftwrapping. It didn't have a tag, or any way to tell who it was from. Huh. Odd. David opened the gift, and in the box was a bronze survival lighter and two pieces of paper, one folded and one rolled up. David picked up the smaller paper and read it out loud which said:
“To [DAVID RUIZ], we have reviewed your Styx oath in full and have determined that the oath has been fulfilled. In this package is your contract, now null and void. As it is no longer eternally binding, we recommend for you to dispose of it, as to avoid identity theft. We here at Styx Legal Associates recommend the traditional method packaged in with it, but as it is no longer binding for all of the afterlife, feel free to shred, burn or dispose of it as you see fit. Sincerely, Styx Legal Associates."
David opened the other paper, and sure enough it was his exact words, written on the contract. Along with…huh. So the Underworld has his social. Honestly, should have seen that coming. Making sure Jules didn't catch a peek at that, he grabbed the lighter and held it under his contract.
The paper burnt slower than David thought, the fire slowly chewing the contract as it pitted and blackened. David didn't realize he was holding his breath, until halfway through he let his breath out.
Two years. He forced himself in this oath for two years, proving to himself and hopefully, his father that he could shape up. It was risky, but his mind recalled when his Conquistador ancestors arrived to the New World, how they burnt their ships. It was a declaration, no going back.
Well, they were bastards, but the gesture was a neat idea.
David's eyes fixed on the paper, as if it would magically grow back if he turned his face away. This was it. Decisive victory, over his father for thinking he was a waste of space. But most importantly, against himself. His cowardice, his weak will, his anxieties. He took the pressure of the oath and became much better for it. For all the sleepless nights, for all the broken bones and near-death experiences it caused. The strange thing was he wasn't sure that he'd take it back if given the chance.
He wouldn't have met Ellie, or any other of his closest friends if not for his binding oath. So, as strange as it was, he felt a bit bittersweet as he watched it go up, now only a quarter of the contract left. As horrible as it was, it was a chapter of his life that molded who he was. Without the oath, forcing him to push himself every day to his limits, to ensure his own survival he wasn't sure that he'd be the person he was today.
Yet, he was looking forward to this new part of his life as the flame ate away at the paper. He watched it start to engulf the last remnants of it, reaching up to his fingertips.
“Ah!”
He instinctively waved his hand, dropping the shreds of paper as it fell onto the ground below. It burnt the last remnants until nothing was left but smoking ashes that David quickly put out with his shoe.
Finally. David was free.
And so, the Son of Ares, brave hero, on the night before his eighteenth birthday, wept.
OOC:
And there we have it! The conclusion to one of my favorite story arcs I've ever done in RP. Thanks to all of you for following along, from start to end! When I made David, I was surprised that, what originally was a simple character concept quickly became one of my favorites. It was really fun to write a character go from a wimp to a true hero in every sense of the word. With that, the curtains close on a two year long story arc. If you wanna rp with David, or just have your character hang during the party, both are good! This is a celebration both IC and OOC!
That being said, I'm not completely finished with David, so stay tuned...

I am looking for some spring/Summer reads. Don't know exactly what I am looking for, but something that comes to mind is Duma Key, Shutter Island (maybe not spring/summer, but it's an Island, so...), The Club Dumas (visits amazing places, so it reminds me of spring/summer), The Beach, The Rum Diary...
So as you can see, not really connected books, so you can suggest anything that reminds you of spring/summer.
Only, I would prefer with main male character, or both male and female. Not too many main characters, one or two at most.
Thank you

I’m currently on a severance package from work. I’m on week 7 of doing basically nothing. It feels that way anyway. In reality, I’ve been cooking for pleasure, hanging with my child, taking naps, going to the library, a few trips to the nature parks and pool, seeing friends here and there, parent came to visit, one trip to the beach, taking my vitamins, reading tons, applied to a new graduate school program, went to dentist and gyno, and an unhoused friend has been staying with us the past 6 weeks, as well.
As far as work, I’ve been applying loosely here and there, had an interview which I cancelled, and planning on starting some business ventures I’ve been wanting to do forever. I made some online profiles for animal sitting and babysitting for some extra income, also.
I dunno, I feel guilty like I am just a big lazy pile. But prior to this, I was extremely burned out. Ferritin, vitamin d, and potassium consistently low. Anxiety and depression and hopelessness taking over my life. I was constantly irritable and felt overwhelmed with my high volume and unrealistic expectations job. Even if I had the chance to go back, I physically wouldn’t be able to handle it. I was having legitimate physical reactions to logging in each morning. Not to mention that 2023 was filled with SO much personal shit that I could not keep up. All that to say, I know I was extremely burned out.
When can I expect to feel more motivated when it comes to work and exercise? Right now I’m just feeling like I’m not doing enough 🥴 I have 3 more months of pay but can stretch it with side income
Thank you!

Read it in the early 2000s, maybe around 2005- 2007. There was beautiful illustrations for a kids book that looked like watercolor & I believe the setting was a beach?? I just remember it was about a cat, possibly more than one, and how it used its 9 lives. The ending was quite sad and sweet as I think there was a POV of the cat after it passed away as a ghost.

Hey all, we're getting an over sand vehicle permit for the cape. We've driven off road on Nantucket some but are still very new to it. Our experience on Nantucket makes me think we should get some traction boards for the sand, even if we're just going to stick to the most basic and simplest routes. We mainly want to go to the beach with our junk, hangout and read for the day.
I'd like a recommendation for a basic good set of traction boards for sandy conditions.

EDIT: CLOSED! the dodo if you have it is still good if you want to come back. sorry if you missed this. will be doing it again in a day or two!!
i don’t restart, i flatten. from-launch island. i need to open storage space. it’s been a while since i’ve opened my island to strangers (the community has changed a lot & it wasn’t great, but one last try on a different subreddit). i’m not a jerk but please read this. you won’t get the dodo if you don’t. i’m not apologizing for blank space or how the island looks, i’m mid-reconstruction.
DO NOT LEAVE ANYTHING ON MY ISLAND. thank you. NO TIPS. NO ITEMS. this is a giveaway.
out of airport:
on your right: in front of the shops inc sidewalk & beach) are DIYs (feel free to learn them as you need). between the shops is a stand alone ATM you can use. over the bridge on the beach are bell bags to the area between the dock & large rocks.
on your left: large items, NMTs, veg starters, racks of craft mats, some treats. in the large items are over 70 castle pieces of every colorway. cyrus can change them for you if you get colors you don’t like. help yourself to bells to cover that.
if you need: fruit, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, etc. please let me know & i will get those for you. have several racks of all fruits/shoots in storage.
DO: take your time, feel free to sign the board if that’s your thing, go to shops, visit villagers… not too much going on here, getting ready to flatten. my vendor today is gullivaaaaaaarrrrrr, so that’s not helpful to you.
DO NOT: run, shake trees, pick flower tops, pick veg, be a jerk, arrive in a wetsuit (PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS, change your clothes), i will hit the button if anyone isn’t being decent. DO NOT UPSTREAM OTHERS FOR BELLS OR ITEMS. i will refresh bell bags as needed. if you do not know what “upstreaming” means, this isn’t the island for you to visit. there’s plenty of bells for everyone who visits & wants/needs them.
i am going to be getting rid of a LOT of flowers later in the week, message me if you want some. again, do not pick the tops or trample them. if you do grab bags on your island i have a ton of wrapping paper & would love to donate to your cause! let me know.
yes you can make multiple trips. comment your favorite villager & i will send you the code. will open to 3 people at a time. will be open for 2-3 hours. i’m wearing a black baggy shirt, worn jeans, grey sneakers, black rain hat, brown hair. my “house” (the grey one) is off limits, it’s a wreck. the “fake” houses are open (any house with a blinking mailbox). i’m aware of the space tragedy house having roaches, it adds to its charm. afternoon TP121 if you want to do that as well.
everything left behind will end up in bins so take it! thanks!

Changing My Attitude
My tendency is to try to impose order on things in my environment. If I’m no watching closely and paying attention, resentments can sneak up on me. At home in my bathroom closet I put the bath towels in one spot, the hand towels in another, and the washcloths where they belong. One day several washcloths were on top of the bath towels with a bath towel or two on top of the hand towels.
​I stood there for a moment and began to get angry. I said to myself, “Why can’t my husband put these things in the right places?” It’s just the two of us, so I had no one else to blame. Then I proceeded to rearrange the items.
A couple of slogans came to mind. “How Important Is It?” and, “First Things First.” I began to realize that it only took me a few seconds to rearrange the towels. Then I asked myself, “Where is your gratitude?” I should be glad that my husband washes, dries, folds, and puts these things away. So I began to lose my anger and counted this as a lesson about changing my attitude.
I shared the story with my Al-Anon group. Later, when all of my anger and frustration were gone, I was able to relate it to my husband. When he realized this concerned me, he made more of an effort to put the towels in their proper places. As things have evolved, he doesn’t always get them there, and you know what? I don’t really care anymore if the closet is a little disheveled.
Through Al-Anon I have learned if I hang onto resentments they will grow and develop into larger ones. If I work through my resentments, I can get on with life and be present in the moment. By Teresa L., Georgia September, 2003Reprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.

I’m aware that this is unconventional. Believe me, I’ve tried conventional – it didn’t end well for anyone. I require a certain open mindedness that I’m hoping I might find here, but more importantly, I need my future husband to know the rules. Meet-cutes are well and good on the screen, but they don’t guarantee a partner’s ability to follow basic instructions. That was my mistake the first time.
So, begging your pardon for my bluntness, I’m going to be clear about my requirements. Please read carefully – if you can’t meet them, there’s no point in going any further.

• Must want children. At least one child, anyway. I’m open to the idea of more, but one is an absolute must.
• Must be in it for the long haul. Until our child turns eighteen, to be precise. I understand that level of commitment is a daunting prospect, particularly when we have not yet met. After our child is born, you are welcome to ignore me, if you please, or take your pleasure elsewhere – though I will warn you that it might be difficult to come by. But you will live under my roof until our child is an adult.
• Homebody preferred. It will make the next two decades easier on you.
• Must have impeccable manners. I will provide a manual outlining the required etiquette, but you must at least have a grasp of basic courtesy to begin with. If you let your tongue run away with you, or don’t bother to wish your neighbours a good morning when you pass them in the street, stop reading – this is not the opportunity for you. Seriously.

This is the part where I should talk about myself, but let’s face it, this is hardly a romantic proposal. I require commitment up-front and there’s no guarantee that, once we do meet, we’ll really even like each other. If we do? Fantastic! It’ll help the years fly by. If we don’t, you’ll still have the main prize – years of rent-free, expenses-free living at The Old Oak Hotel.
A sanctuary has stood in this spot in one form or another since before the ley lines. During its tenure, it has been flooded, put to the flame, and pounded into dust. Time and again, it has been reimagined and rebuilt. Most of the current building dates back to Victoria’s reign, though the oldest parts were constructed in the 13^th century. At the very bottom of the garden, cut into the surrounding hills, there is a cave bearing handprints of red ochre.
There has always been an Edwards at the hotel, though of course we haven’t always gone by that name. You would think a family so tied to one place would do a better job of keeping records, but no one is certain of our origins. Perhaps it was a cosmic bargain, or perhaps mere luck – whether good or bad, I have never been able to decide. Either way, our presence is required. Throughout our spotty past, there’s a story here and there of an Edwards deserting their post, and it always coincides with a particularly brutal period of history.
I inherited the position five years ago. At midnight on my eighteenth birthday, my parents took their already-packed suitcases and left. I don’t blame them for their abandonment; I intend to one day do the same thing to my – or, hopefully, our – child.
They send me postcards and photos from time-to-time, always smiling on sunny beaches. Money isn’t a concern for them. That’s part of whatever mysterious deal our ancestors made – when a caretaker leaves in good-standing, they will never want for anything again. They could travel the world for the rest of their lives, always sleeping in the softest sheets and dining in the finest restaurants, and never find their pockets empty.
Keep this point in mind, for if you can meet my requirements, you will share my good fortune.
And what must we do in return? I can all but hear you scream the question. Why, very little. The presence of an Edwards ensures that the guests can’t stray from the hotel grounds. Most of our guests are live-in residents, though we do get the occasional walk-in. Where they come from, I don’t know, for we are not visible to most people who stumble upon our lonely corner of the world. I’ve come to believe the hotel chooses to reveal itself when its lacking entertainment, or to fill a need.
Jimmy, my first husband, was one such guest.
For the most part, the guests are harmless. They’ll give you a little fright from time-to-time, popping out from a wall or turning your bathwater into blood, but I find it hard to hold it against them. I’ve found twenty-three years here dreary; I can’t imagine how bored I would be after five hundred.
There are a few exceptions you should be aware of:

• Eric. Our resident serial murderer. He claims to have been Jack the Ripper while he still drew breath, but I think he’s just a blowhard. He knows better than to harm an Edwards, but I’m afraid spouses are fair game. Years ago, my grandmother managed to confine him to the fourth floor, so you will be perfectly safe from him as long as you never set foot there. Occasionally, the lift will stop on that floor even though you haven’t pressed the button for it. Do not get out. Even if the lift appears to be on fire or starts filling with murky water. Wait for the doors to close again, then go to another floor. It should only take a few hours.
• The Thing in the Cellar. I don’t know what It is; no one ever has. We only know It eats rats and must be fed once a day. If I’m ever ill or incapacitated, this task will fall to you. Harvest the rats from the traps in the garden, then stand at the cellar door and throw them down the stairs. Do not walk down the stairs and do not forget to feed It. You don’t want to be the first person to see Its’ face.
• Mrs Jones. Old fashioned and a stickler for manners, she’s the reason I’m advertising for a husband rather than a boyfriend. She won’t abide a couple living in sin under the same roof as her. Really, though, she’s a sweet old thing. Full of stories about the war and always ready to help if I get stuck on a recipe. I don’t blame her for what happened with Jimmy at all. I’d warned him enough times.

Guests aside, there are other rules you will need to follow to ensure a safe, satisfactory stay at The Old Oak Hotel. They are listed in a book that has been re-penned many times over the centuries. If you choose to accept this opportunity, I will insist that you read it until you can recite the pages word-for-word.
However, there are some rules so critical for your survival that I feel compelled to list them here:

• With the exception of the fourth floor, you are welcome to roam the hotel and its grounds as you please. But you must never set foot outside of our land – not until our child is old enough to fulfil their duties. If I were to do so, it would unleash pandemonium – plague, peril, perhaps another world war. I’m afraid you would be less crucial to the fate of the world, but it would certainly be a personal disaster.
• Never look in the mirrors in room 33.
• I’ve touched this point already, but it bears repeating: never be rude to Mrs Jones.

Failure to observe that last rule is what got Jimmy.
She doted on him. I think he reminded her of her long-dead son, for she pampered him as if he were one of her own. Each morning, she had breakfast ready for him before I had so much as opened my eyes, and she developed a habit of trailing along after him, complimenting his skill as he oiled rusted hinges or set a crooked picture straight.
At first, Jimmy basked in the attention. But by the end of his second month, he was growing bored of Mrs Jones, me, and the hotel itself. We pride ourselves on our facilities. If you need more activity than a turn around the garden, we have a lovely indoor pool – it freezes over every now and then, but most of the time it’s perfectly usable. Our library is unmatched. Although the room is cramped, it has every book imaginable; you only need to think of a particular title, and it will appear on one of the shelves. And now that I’ve dragged us kicking and screaming into the 21^st century, we have a wide array of streaming services.
It wasn’t enough for Jimmy. He wanted to go out – eat in a restaurant, watch a film in the cinema, see any faces other than the ones he was surrounded by every day. He began having a drink each evening. One drink turned into several, and after a few weeks, the bar became his permanent residence between dusk and midnight.
He wasn’t the only one getting bored. I had been thrilled when he first arrived; ecstatic when he agreed to stay. How marvellous to feel real flesh beneath my fingers after five years of only the dead for company. What a relief to have some assistance in the many tasks required to keep the hotel running as it should.
The more he drank, the less inclined he was to help – or even spend time in my company. He no longer visited my bed, choosing a room for himself on the opposite end of the floor. When our paths did cross, at best he would ignore me. At worst, he would nitpick or outright rail against me, blaming me for his captivity.
Still, I made an effort to be present whenever he frequented the bar. As lovely as Mrs Jones can be, she does have a tendency to nag. Before and after her death, she was close to teetotal, only consenting to take a single sherry at Christmas, and drinking outside of special occasions is something of a bugbear of hers.
“Think of your health, dear,” she would tell Jimmy brusquely. “You’ll miss it when it’s gone.”
Or, “How about we switch to a nice apple juice now? You’ve had quite enough to drink for one night.”
Most of the time, Jimmy managed to pull himself together enough to flash a charming smile and distract her with a compliment about her latest meal. But after one drink too many, I’d noticed him gritting his teeth and just barely managing to hold his tongue.
It was better if I was present. Playing the doting wife, I insisted on pouring his drinks, watering them down out of his sight. When Mrs Jones’s nagging bordered on relentless, I could always distract her with a game of gin rummy.
On his final day, I was running behind. The ghoul on the second floor – usually the least demanding of our guests – had come down with some dreadful illness, or else decided he wanted to inconvenience me. Either way, I had woken that morning to the foulest stench I had ever experienced. I followed it to his room and found every surface covered in putrid green-blank gunge, its consistency somewhere between mucus and vomit.
All day I scrubbed, taking only brief breaks to step outside before I fainted. By the time the room was restored to a passable state, and I had filled several bin bags to bursting with filthy rags, it was already deep into the night. Mindful of the time, I paused only long enough to wash the streaks of muck from my arms and face before racing to the bar.
I arrived just in time to hear Jimmy’s last words. After he spat them at Mrs Jones, she only stared for a small eternity, her mouth frozen in the motherly smile she wore whenever she scolded him.
Then, like melted wax, her face began to shift.
I shouted at Jimmy to run, but he didn’t need to be told. Before the words left my mouth, he leapt from his barstool and streaked through the door. Mrs Jones followed him seconds later. Her lips were already peeling back to reveal rows upon rows of long, wickedly sharp fangs, while claws sprouted from beneath her lace-edged cuffs.
I sprinted after them, but Jimmy was fuelled by fear and Mrs Jones by whatever force propels the Mrs Joneses of the world. I followed the screeching to the lobby. Breathless, I arrived to see he had arrived within mere feet of the entrance before Mrs Jones grabbed him.
Claws wrapped around his throat, she lifted him into the air. As I watched, her jaw unhinged, the lower part dropping so that it was nearly level with her chest.
That sight drove all the sense out of my head. Forgetting every rule my parents had ever drilled into me, I lunged at her.
She batted me away as though I weighed no more than a fly.
I crashed into the reception desk, the breath bursting from my lungs in a great woosh. I was certain that I would die, for no amount of effort seemed to force air back into my aching chest. At last, as my vision began to dim, I managed to take a small gulp – then another, and another, until I was able to draw myself together enough to regain my feet.
By that time, Mrs Jones had nearly finished her dinner. Jimmy’s chest was splayed open, muscle and shattered ribs protruding every which way from his flesh, and she was devouring the last few bites of his heart.
His head was angled towards me. The light had winked out from his eyes, but they still held his final terror – and an accusation which, I was quite certain, was directed at me. I would like to say I felt only horror, but I couldn’t help my sudden jolt of irritation. How may times had I told him to mind his manners?
Mrs Jones gulped, the sound thick and wet in her gullet, and dropped what remained of Jimmy to the floor.
Then she turned to me.
Here’s another rule for you, one which I hope you never have cause to use: never interfere with a kill.
The Mrs Jones who used to kiss my grazed knees, who argued with my mother for the right to read me bedtime stories, was no longer at the wheel. No amount of pleading or reasoning would move her.
I could only run.
Spinning around, I vaulted over the reception desk and raced for the office behind it. If Jimmy had not been out of his mind with fear and booze, he might have remembered the rules and survived; it was one of several staff-only rooms throughout the hotel warded to keep out unwanted guests.
Just ten steps from desk to door, yet it was the longest journey of my life. My hard-won breath burned my throat; my heart pounded in my ears, deafening me to all other sounds than Mrs Jones’s heavy, pounding footsteps.
Grasping the handle, her hot, copper-tanged breath was on my neck. Fire exploded in my flesh as she raked her claws down my back. A step further away, and I wouldn’t have made it; the pain would have been too great. But I managed to throw myself into the office and slam the door before crumpling to the ground.
Before I passed out, I heard her grunting and shrieking outside, furious that she couldn’t get in.
Three days I spent in the office, emerging only to feed The Thing in the Cellar before scurrying back to my hiding place. Whenever I left, I tried not to look at the mangled heap that used to be Jimmy. There was no avoiding the smell, though.
With no small difficulty, and the help of a first aid kit, I managed to treat and bandage the wounds on my back. They bled sluggishly all throughout the first day, but thankfully didn’t fester.
On the morning of the fourth day, there was a tentative knock on the door followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. I waited until they had disappeared down the corridor before cracking the door open. On the floor was a freshly baked Victoria sponge and a beautifully written note of apology.
It took every ounce of courage I possessed, but that evening I forced myself to go to the dining room. Mrs Jones was waiting for me, her eyes red-rimmed, a steaming cottage pie on the table. I tried not to flinch as she took my hand, re-iterating the apology she had already delivered in writing.
The next morning, she helped me clean Jimmy up.
We treated each other cautiously for a while, but eventually we got back to playing gin rummy again. When the scars on my back twinge, as they sometimes do, she helps me rub a soothing ointment into them. Even though I’ve told her it’s not necessary, she apologises every time.
So, you’ve heard my story and you have my proposal. If you think you could be the man for me, I invite you to visit. You will need to drink a cup of ram’s blood (a pinch of nutmeg makes it a little more tolerable) and light a black candle before bedtime. When you next wake, you will find yourself at our gates. As travel arrangements go, it’s hardly the Orient Express, but it beats the airfare.
If you have read this without flinching, if you can stomach the journey to get here, if you walk up to our door and find the nerve to open it, I have one more instruction for you.
Just as you enter, look to your right. You will see a deep brown stain on the lobby carpet. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed but it just won’t come out. Perhaps that’s for the best. It’s a good reminder of what will happen to you should you call Mrs Jones a “nosy old bat”.
And when you run into Jimmy – as you will, for he still likes hanging around the bar in the evening, his silvery wounds glistening as though they had just been inflicted – don’t let him convince you he was some sort of victim.
He knew the rules.

For context I find books like Red, White, and Royal Blue to be YA. Sex and main characters in their mid 20's is doesn't make something not YA. I'm looking for something heavier than a beach read but not quite a literary masterpiece. Don't get me wrong I enjoy the fun reads but it's hard to connect with such fake characters for me.

Hi! I'm mom to a 7 year old boy and an almost 3 year old girl. We live in South Park. We moved here from Redondo Beach last year. The 7 year old is in school and has made friends; the almost-3 year old is not in school ... and has not lol. I'm throwing her a Bluey themed birthday party on Sunday June 9th (it'll be held in my MIL's backyard in University Heights). I'm having fun planning it, but the issue is... I don't have any littles her age to invite!! I'm posting here in hopes that I can (kinda quickly...eep!) establish some age-appropriate friendships for her so, she has like-minded mates to play Keepy Uppy, Sticky Gecko, Here Comes the Grannies, etc. with! I have a flexible work schedule and have memberships to the Zoo, the Balboa Park Explorer Pass, and the New Children's Museum. Does anyone have 3(ish) year olds looking for playmates? Let's make a plan and meet up! Thanks for reading.

Hello,
I bought about ten days ago a 130k miles 2019 highlander hybrid platinum.
It seems to be in (mostly) perfect shape and I bet it's been doing only highway. This car will be a big change from my 2006 durango I've been owning/fixing for the last five years.
So far we love it.
I have a few questions for y'all.

1. Even though it's branded as AWD, I don't see any AWD related button/control/screen. Is that normal ? I was expecting to take it a couple of time on a beach or on snow. Nothing crazy, but still... I'm worried now. Does it have different capabilities than the rest of the line ?
2. The 110v power outlet provides only 100W. what ? I thought a hybrid would have a decent sized inverter and would allow my passenger to use a laptop while charging a camping fridge and charging my drone/camera batteries. Here, even my surface pro keeps tripping the protection, I don't get a constant charge. Is it easy to change/upgrade/replace ? Anyone done that ?
3. As I'm typing this I'm trying the AC on battery. Looks like once the battery is on two bars left, it triggers the motor, which charges up to the 3rd bar, then it stops. One bar charging takes about 3min20s. And AC lasts for about 17min. (set to 72f, outside its about 86f) Does that look right to you ? I've read many times I should expect 30min of AC, then about 1.5min of motor.
4. Anyone replaced his head unit with a chinese stuff from Amazon ? I'm interested in "long term" feedbacks. Also I was wondering, what features are lost using these ? Does it bring any "new" feature ? (more insights on the car or something ?)
5. Anyone bought some heavy duty roof rails ? (not a rack but rails) I'll be looking at using my rooftop tent for a few trips. I need to find rails that can sustain some weihght.
6. How does one test the hybrid battery health ? Is that something a toyota dealership can do ? Any idea how much that'd cost ?

Thanks in advance. :)

Going to LA at the end of August with GF and want to get thoughts on my rough timelines. Majority of our trip is in SD, but trying to fit a few things in before heading South. Driving will be midweek, used Waze for traffic info. Read that luggage shouldn't even be left in my trunk? I live downtown Toronto and wouldn't have any issue leaving luggage in my trunk here.
Just a rough timeline to make sure we have time to do everything we want to do.
Day 1

Land at LAX	9:00 AM
Pickup Rental Car	10:00 AM
Drop-off Luggage at Hotel (Beverly Hills)	10:45 AM
Drive to Malibu	Arrive at 11:30 AM
Lunch at Malibu Pier	12:00 PM
Leave for Santa Monica	2:00 PM
Walk Pier & Venice Beach	Arrive at 2:30 PM
Drive back to Hotel	4:30 PM arrive at 5:00 PM
Dinner in West Hollywood	8:00 PM

Roughly 2.5 hours in Malibu & 2 hours at SM PieVenice Beach
Day 2:

Drive to Lake Hollywood Park (40 Mins)	8:00 AM
Walk to Sign (20 Mins)	Arrive at 9:00 AM
See Sign and Walk to Car	Arrive at 10:00 AM
Drive through Hollywood Hills to Rodeo Drive	Arrive at 11:00 AM
Lunch at Shake Shack on Rodeo	1:00 PM
Drive PCH to Laguna Beach (Possible quick stops are Redondo Pier and Newport Beach)	1:30 PM
Drop off Rental Car in Laguna Beach	4:30 PM
Dinner in Laguna Beach	8:00 PM

The rest of the trip in Laguna/SD we're leaving up to friends that live there.

Hello! I am an English teacher and basketball coach from Long Island, New York and I’m looking for new people to talk to. Don’t be shy!
My interest include sports (I played basketball in college), movies, and TV, reading and writing, going to the gym, going to the beach, anime, horror, Star Wars, and other nerd stuff lol. I currently teach middle school English and coach the basketball team as well.
I am really open to talking about anything and everything. Let’s talk about something we have in common or find something to bond over. I’m very friendly and open-minded and easy to talk to:)

Hello! I am an English teacher and basketball coach from Long Island, New York and I’m looking for new people to talk to. Don’t be shy!
My interest include sports (I played basketball in college), movies, and TV, reading and writing, going to the gym, going to the beach, anime, horror, Star Wars, and other nerd stuff lol. I currently teach middle school English and coach the basketball team as well.
I am really open to talking about anything and everything. Let’s talk about something we have in common or find something to bond over. I’m very friendly and open-minded and easy to talk to:)

Hello! I am an English teacher and basketball coach from Long Island, New York and I’m looking for new people to talk to. Don’t be shy!
My interest include sports (I played basketball in college), movies, and TV, reading and writing, going to the gym, going to the beach, anime, horror, Star Wars, and other nerd stuff lol. I currently teach middle school English and coach the basketball team as well.
I am really open to talking about anything and everything. Let’s talk about something we have in common or find something to bond over. I’m very friendly and open-minded and easy to talk to:)

Hello! I am an English teacher and basketball coach from Long Island, New York and I’m looking for new people to talk to. Don’t be shy!
My interest include sports (I played basketball in college), movies, and TV, reading and writing, going to the gym, going to the beach, anime, horror, Star Wars, and other nerd stuff lol. I currently teach middle school English and coach the basketball team as well.
I am really open to talking about anything and everything. Let’s talk about something we have in common or find something to bond over. I’m very friendly and open-minded and easy to talk to:)

Hello! I am an English teacher and basketball coach from Long Island, New York and I’m looking for new people to talk to. Don’t be shy!
My interest include sports (I played basketball in college), movies, and TV, reading and writing, going to the gym, going to the beach, anime, horror, Star Wars, and other nerd stuff lol. I currently teach middle school English and coach the basketball team as well.
I am really open to talking about anything and everything. Let’s talk about something we have in common or find something to bond over. I’m very friendly and open-minded and easy to talk to:)

Hello! I am an English teacher and basketball coach from Long Island, New York and I’m looking for new people to talk to. Don’t be shy!
My interest include sports (I played basketball in college), movies, and TV, reading and writing, going to the gym, going to the beach, anime, horror, Star Wars, and other nerd stuff lol. I currently teach middle school English and coach the basketball team as well.
I am really open to talking about anything and everything. Let’s talk about something we have in common or find something to bond over. I’m very friendly and open-minded and easy to talk to:)

Hi everyone,
28 y.o, male, New Yorker solo traveling to PV for the first time next week. Booked a spontaneous stay last night and looking for some pointers.
My intention for the trip is to relax and explore. Starting a new job in June and wanted to give myself a break between roles.
About me: Outgoing, Gay, likes an adventure but am also open to an eat-pray-love moment. Truly 0 expectations or plans, I just want to go where the wind takes me. This could range from reading a few books on the beach for the week or going on dates and making friends with locals-- no pressure.
Things I'm into while traveling: local restaurants, understanding where locals actually go, the beach/ nature, history, unique and hidden corners of town, not being an obvious or annoying tourist, being a fly on the wall for people watching, unexpected experiences, stories for my memoir.
Staying in an Airbnb near Our Lady of Guadalupe Cathedral.
If you were me-- what would you do? (If the answer is lay on the beach all week, happy to oblige).

Hi everyone!! I’m looking for a short story or novella collection for my mom for her birthday. She’s mentioned wanting to bring them on our trips so it’s be great if they came in paperback. She loves books with romance, family life and just feel good stories. Some of her favorites are Beach Read, Pennies in Heaven, Tuesdays with Morrie, Part of Your World and Little Monsters. I appreciate any suggestions, thanks so much!!