Everyone and their mother was baking banana nut bread during the pandemic, and then they stopped! Where can I get the most delicious, moist banana nut bread? Variations, like chocolate chip, peanut butter, etc. are welcome as well. For reference, I’m in the Pasadena area.

So I used this recipe and the cookies turned out like too cakey and not chewy Anyway to improve this recipe and make bakery style chocolate chip cookies?
½ cup butter softened ½ cup white sugar ½ cup light brown sugar 1 tsp vanilla extract 1 large egg 1 ½ cups flour ½ tsp baking soda ¼ tsp baking powder ½ tsp salt 1 cup chocolate chips

Memory Transcript Subject: Carlos Jose Rodriguez, Mechanical Engineer, Florida Man
Date [Standardized Human Time]: December 29th, 2136
When Yalga passed out on the couch I sent a message to the family group chat making sure everyone knew of the situation.
I needed to get Yalga into the hospital, but I didn’t want to do it myself. Pyon also needed a sitter, so I was waiting for mom to come back so Salisek and I could focus on Yalga.
Me: Yalga burned herself on the heat pad. We’re taking her to the ER. Mom, could you come home to take care of Pyon.
Mom: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BURNED HERSELF?! We’re coming home!
Tarvik: On our way. We’ll help you take her.
I didn’t want to bother them, but I couldn’t complain. I needed help. While I waited for them to arrive I poured a cool glass of water for Yalga so she could hydrate herself when she gets up. I gently nudged her awake, which made her groan in discomfort as her eyes opened.
“Dad? What’s going on?” She asked weakly. Her voice was a little rough.
“I’m gonna take you to the doctor,” I answered bluntly. “I am aware, you don’t love doctors but these people can help you much better than me. I’ll be with you as much as I can, holding your hand. Can you be brave for me?”
My daughter nodded yes, so I got up and went upstairs to grab something we’re definitely gonna need. I also made sure Salisek got the news. She probably saw through the chat, but I needed to be sure.
I peeked into our room, or at least the room the girls were staying in together. “Honey?” I called the mother of my children. Salisek was cradling Pyon, trying to calm him down. Pyon was holding his teddy tight enough to cause some visible rips and tears. I need to ask mom to fix that later. “How is he?”
Pyon buried his face in Saliseks chest fur, and made some small whining sounds. “He’s scared. We heard Yalga scream and didn’t know what was going on. He soiled himself when he heard Yalga and has been crying for a while now. He only just stopped. He can sense I’m worried too.”
“You changed him right?”
“Yeah, although I didn’t think now was a good time for potty training. What are you getting?”
Salisek followed me to my mom’s room and watched me search around the closet. “Almost a decade ago, my dad was hit by a car. Something about the sensors being screwed up. He’s obviously fine now, but the car didn’t stop just in time so he broke a leg. Thank God that’s all he got. Anyway, he bought a wheelchair and kept it- Aha!”
I freed the simple contraption buried under a mountain of clothes dad considered put away and carried it downstairs.
“We’re gonna need this. It’s gonna be way easier to move Yalga.”
Salisek continued to cradle Pyon, rocking him back and forth, as she talked to me, “What do you need me to do?”
“Stay with Pyon.”
“No.”
“We’re not arguing about this. I need you to stay-”
“Pardon me, could you repeat that!? Have you forgotten that despite that fact we aren’t married yet we both signed as the legal guardians of both Pyon AND Yalga. Or did you want to call your barber for help?”
Hearing Salisek use her angry voice when talking about anything other than Exterminator and Federation bigotry felt like a punch in the gut.I tried to defuse the situation. That worked about as well as it did when dad tried it.
“Hun, that’s not what I mea-”
“MY-” Salisek paused when she remembered she was still carrying Pyon who was looking at her as if she yelled at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry pup just…” She shifted Pyon's position so he could bury his face into her fur to distract her. She softened her voice, but made it stern as steel. “My daughter is in an incredible amount of pain. She is scared, she is tired. I will be there. Pyon will come with, so he can see his sister being taken care of. I. Will. Be. There. For. My. Daughter. Am I clear?”
I help up my hands in defeat. “Okay. We’ll leave as soon as the family gets here.”
Saliseks voice and posture softened. “Okay. Again this time. What can I do?”
Seeing how serious she was, I realized doing this on my own was a stupid idea from the start. “Pack some snacks. I’m not getting overcharged for crappy hospital junk. And while you’re in the kitchen please grab more water for Yalga. I gotta make sure the bandaging is on well and she’s okay.”
“Okay.”
Salisek walked to the kitchen, still carrying Pyon. At times like these, I know I made the right decision marrying her.
“I love you sweetheart!” I called out.
“I love you too hun!” She called back.
I pulled the wheelchair out so Yalga could get in it. I could try and carry her, but unfortunately with her size and weight it would be better to transport her like this. Even if it’s a short distance.
“Daddy,” Yalga called.
“Yeah.”
“Are you and Mommy mad at each other?” She asked innocently. “Did I do something wrong? I heard Mom say my name.”
I knelt down to give my daughter an assuring kiss on her head. “No kiddo. We had a disagreement like all adults. It’s solved now. We still love each other.”
Despite her monotone voice, it couldn’t hide the tears building in her eyes. “Okay.”
I ignored it for the moment because she was probably gonna cry more in a moment. I opened the chair as much as it could go and gave the seat a nice solid pat.
“We’re gonna put you here, then we’re going to the Emergency Room.”
“Do I have to get up?”
“Yeah. You do. Grab my hand. We’ll go slow.”
Yalga held my hand and grasped it tight. I need to remember that she has a very strong grip. To keep her even I used my other hand to push her up from the other side so she didn’t have to do the work.
I’m so glad I go to the gym.
We slowly worked together to lift her up so she could sit straight.
“Ow, ow!”
“I know it hurts. Take your time.”
Once we got her up we had to get her into the chair. I thought about the best way to put her tail. Through the hole in the back? Would it just drag to the ground? Wait!
I went to the side of the couch where there was a thin blanket for me and Salisek when we slept here. If I can tie the blanket on the handles it can keep her tail up without squishing it. I just need to get her on first.
“Okay Princess. Let’s get up. Can you stand?”
“Y-Yeah. Um, Dad?”
Yalga awkwardly clutched her tail. “I need to use the bathroom.”
My eyes darted from the bathroom to the couch and back. “No better time to test the wheelchair.”
[Memory Transcript Time Skip: 40 Minutes]
Even though it was getting late the traffic was still a lot. Once Salisek was ready we both called our parents and they both said that traffic was heavy. With it being the last Saturday of the year, Florida residents and tourists alike were enjoying their day.
We decided to just meet at the ER. The blanket trick for Yalga’s tail worked well and it didn’t hurt too much for her to walk once she got up. However, sitting down hurt her a lot unless it was in the wheelchair. Her tail probably played a factor since it didn’t have a place to sit except on the side when dealing with regular chairs.
Once we got to the hospital I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t that packed. Because of increased tourism and parties things can get crowded this time of year. Thankfully that wasn’t the case today. I didn’t want my daughter waiting more than she had too.
When I opened the side door, Yalga was already half up just so she could get into a chair with room for her tail. I helped carry her down and rolled her through the hospital's parking lot.
Salisek was having a difficult time carrying Pyon. He was pretty nervous. “Mawmy, I don wan to gow en.”
I didn’t understand why Pyon was scared but Mawmy was able to calm him down. “It’s okay pup. This place is filled with very nice and smart people who can help your big sister.”
My daughter didn’t say much, instead she looked around the large hospital and took in all the architecture and bright lights at the front. The front and lobby areas were clean and comfortable which helped a little to ease the tensions of anyone going in with something they believe is serious.
I rolled Yalga straight to the front desk and we were greeted by the medical receptionist. “Hello, how may I help you?”
I smiled politely and spoke calmly, “Hello, I’m Carlos Rodriguez and this is my daughter Yalga. She was using a heating pad and unfortunately suffered some burns. I was able to patch her up a little, but the gels and methods we have are for humans so I want to make sure she can heal properly. I would also like a professional to look at other areas of concern dealing with her limbs and back.”
“Any pain, shortness of breath, chest pain, profuse bleeding?”
“Her back usually causes her pain and the burning made it worse.”
She gestured to my fiance and son, “Are those two with you?”
“The tall Venlil woman is Salisek, my fiance, and she’s holding our son Pyon. They came for emotional support and to assist with anything Yalga may need.”
“We’ll get you someone right away. Please wait in the lobby.”
“Thank you.”
I knew they probably wouldn’t rush us in since even though Yalga is in pain, there’s no direct threat to her life. The most they’d do is probably a tetanus shot. I suppose I’ll have to worry if Yalga reacts to needles. I’ll try to calm her down because I could tell Yalga was still tense. I rolled her to a seating area with a TV playing Tom and Jerry.
Peak Fiction
With all the stress Yalga was going through, there’s nothing like cartoon violence to ease the mood. What would also ease the mood is having the family visit which according to a message they just sent, they were already here just finding parking.
Soon everyone entered the hospital and after a quick chat with the receptionist, along with me flagging them down, they joined us in the lobby. Helen and Chalta ran to Yalga the quickest.
“Yalga, are you okay?!” Chalta asked. “We heard your back got hurt!”
Helen was about to tackle Yalga into a hug before I stopped her. “Helen, Yalga isn’t feeling well. Please be careful she’s in a lot of pain.” Helen was visibly worried but still gently gave Yalga a supportive hug.
“Get better soon please.”
Talice and Tarvik were surrounding Salisek, asking questions on how they could help.
“Mom, it’s fine, really.”
“No, it’s not fine. Your father and I are here to help so please be honest with us. We’ll help with anything you need. We’ll take Helen home soon but the moment you need anything we’ll be right there.”
“Why isn’t she seeing a doctor yet? What kind of place is this?!”
Mom went over to Salisek who was still holding Pyon. “I can take him sweetie, get some rest.”
Salisek cradled a stressed Pyon in her arms, “Do you wanna go with Grandma, little pup?”
“Gwandma.”
Salisek gently handed Pyon over to my mother who instantly knew how to calm him down. Salisek fell into the chair next to me. She was pretty exhausted and it was getting late. The stress of everything is what really made her worry. Seeing your child in pain isn’t fun. My father put a hand on each of our shoulders.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
I looked over to my daughter who was trying to watch the cartoon with her sisters but still had a hard time focusing because of the pain, as evident by her trying to adjust herself. I gave her a tap on her shoulder and mouthed “how are you feeling?”. I could only hear a little whisper, but it was enough to understand she was saying “It still hurts.”
Dad could overhear what we were trying to say and knelt down next to Yalga. “What would you like to do when we leave?”
“I’m a little hungry. Can we go eat later?”
“Of course, anything you want.”
I was grateful for my dad, that we remembered to comfort Yalga in all this. I was so new to everything, not to mention the speed at which everything was happening.
…
Where’s the doctor!
“Carlos Rodriguez,” She called just as my patience was wearing thin. “We’re ready to see you now.”
“Thank you. One moment.”
I quickly talked with my parents and in-laws about who is going home and who is staying. My mom offered to take Pyon home and to tuck him in, Salisek agreed. Talice decided to go with and made sure to bring Chalta and Helen back since they knew they might get bored or cause trouble. Tarvik and Dad were conversing for a bit about who should stay before settling on Dad since he’s more familiar with the hospital.
Salisek gave Pyon a strong nose nuzzle, “I’ll see you later, okay Pyon? Mommy will be home soon. Be good to grandma, okay?”
“Owkay Mawmy.”
“I love you.”
“I wuv yu tu.”
Helen and Chalta gave Yalga a big, but gentle, hug.
“Get better soon.”
“We’ll play lots of games together when you get back.”
Everyone quickly said their goodbyes so it was just me, Yalga, Salisek, and Dad. We followed the nurse to a room and were asked to wait until the doctor arrived. Yalga was really on edge.
“Dad, are you gonna tell Odin about me?”
“It hasn’t crossed our minds. Do you want us to call him so you can talk for a bit?”
“No thank you, I don’t want him to worry.” My daughter fidgeted with her claws in shame. She didn’t want Odin to see her hurt. The moment she’s okay, I’m planning a date for her and Odin. With chaperones of course. “Are the doctors here nice?” Yalga asked nervously.
“Of course they are, Princess. Just answer honestly and they’ll help you get better.”
They’ll help you get better… I hope.
[Memory Transcript Time Skip: 60 Minutes]
“So the spray will help heal and clean the burn so it doesn’t get sick?” Yalga asked curiously.
“That’s right,” Dr. Brown stated. “Soon we’ll give you a small shot to help protect against tetanus. It’s a very dangerous condition that can happen when you get a cut or burn. But you’re being very brave, I’ll see if we can get you a treat later. That is, if your parents are okay with it.”
“gasp Can I daddy?! Pleeeeeeease, I’ve been soooo good.”
I smiled brightly, “Of course you can.”
Dr. Brown was a huge blessing. The guy had been working with kids for a while and was great with Yalga. He was really good at relaxing her and explaining to her what was going on. He was honest and genuine. Salisek really liked him too, and even asked some questions herself. I also remembered him during my reckless years. He recognized me too.
“You’re daddy was quite the troublemaker back in his day.”
“Really?”
“Yup, when he was small he proudly came to me with a broken wrist.”
“Why would he be proud of that?”
“He got it trying to impress his crush.”
Seven-year-old me told you that in confidence.
I awkwardly looked at Salisek, but all she could do was stare and slowly smile while turning to my dad for more information.
“Do you happen to know the full story, dad?” Salisek teased.
“Well daughter, Carlos had a small crush on this girl named Jessica in the second grade and he tried to impress her by jumping off the swing set. He succeeded and flung himself so far into the air that when he landed on his wrist he needed a cast for months.”
“H-Hey! You laugh but it worked. She sat next to me at lunch and gave me her lunchables, that’s like… the pinnacle of love in second grade.”
I earned a laugh from everyone in the room, which almost made me forget that it was at my expense.
“Um, what is a lunchable?” Dr. Triva asked. She was a Zurulian working with Dr. Brown, trying to work with and understand the Arxur biology. While she was important in treating Yalga’s burn with her experience with Harchen Exterminators she would be even more important in trying to understand her condition as a whole. Zurulians have the best medical understanding compared to… pretty much everyone.
“It’s a children’s meal kit for both vegan and non-vegan foods, it’s popular for kids in school lunches.” Dr. Brown took his eyes off his colleague and gave me a sly look. “But let’s be honest, there was never any real meat in those things.”
Yalga’s interests also peaked. “Were they tasty?”
“Back in my day they were the best part of school. They were also a status symbol. Having the best lunchables meant you were the coolest kid.”
“What was the best one, Daddy?”
“Pizza.”
Of course it was pizza. It’s always pizza.
Pizza is God’s gift to the world.
Dr. Triva grabbed the syringe for the shot while Dr. Brown prepped the area. The sight of the needle made Yalga nervous.
“D-Daddy, do we have to…”
“Hey Princess, look at this.”
Yalga took her gaze off the needle and onto my phone where I showed her my favorite distraction.
[Behold Distraction]
“What is that?” Yalga asked. “I like the sounds.”
The legend Zach Choi, his legacy continued by his descendants, loved making short videos of him just cooking. This one was one of the rare ones that didn’t feature meat. Yalga was fully entranced into the process that she didn’t even react to the needle or the bandaid.
“Good job my beautiful pup!” Salisek cheered.
“Yeah… in a minute, mom.”
Dr. Brown chuckled, “I think I should start using those for nervous patients, right Dr. Triva?”
“Yeah… in a minute, Dr. Brown.”
I took my phone away before everyone forgot why they were here and we were ready to proceed. The doctors wanted to really get a look at Yalga and her condition. On the promise of peanut butter cookies and meat lovers pizza Yalga bravely went through all the X-Ray’s, bloodwork, medical history, and any other examinations they needed.
It took a while and she was starting to get frustrated with all the tests, but she persisted, and soon it was over. They allowed us to stay the night to monitor the burn area in case complications arose. So we all stayed in the hospital room, enjoying our time together as if it was a little adventure.
“Mommy look, the bed moves!”
“Pup, please don’t break it.”
Yalga went crazy when she saw how many buttons the hospital bed had, and needless to say, she was enjoying it. She kept Dad occupied with all her questions both about the hospital and about anything else her mind could think of. She was happy to be done with the tests.
“Grandpa, do you think they’ll let me see my bone pictures later?”
“Sure, but they need someone who is trained to look at them first and show them to the doctors.”
“There’s someone who knows how to look at pictures of bones?”
“Yup, they can see things we can because they’re bone smart. Do you wanna be a doctor when you grow up?”
“I dunno. Maybe I can be a doctor for bones, a bone doctor!”
It was nice seeing her happy, but Salisek and I were still worried about what they would find. What would it take to heal Yalga? Could they do it? I think so, but how long will it take? I don’t care about the financial cost, I care about the physical and mental toll it would take on Yalga. But would we have a choice?
I looked to my fiance who was rapidly tapping her foot onto the ground, impatiently waiting for the doctor to come back in and give us the news on Yalga’s condition.
“It can’t be that bad right?” she whispered. “With aid from the Zurualians they must have a way to easily fix Yalga’s condition. So what’s taking them so long?”
“They’re probably just double checking some things. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I could tell she was still stressed, so I held her hand and kissed her cheek. “Our daughter will be fine.”
Salisek tried to keep herself from crying for Yalga’s sake, but had the doctors not finally arrived she might’ve broken.
“Carlos, Salisek? You’re the parents correct?” Dr. Trivia asked. “I’ll just need to see you both very quickly to discuss some things.”
Finally ready for some answers we quickly got up, kissed our baby goodbye for now, and followed the Zurulian to a small room with Dr. Brown.
“Mr. Rodriguez and Mrs., do you prefer to be called Salisek or are you fine with adopting Mrs. Rodriguez?” The doctor politely asked.
“I’m fine with either, but I would like to get used to Mrs. Rodriguez.” I could feel her hand strengthen her grip in mine.
“Wonderful,” Dr. Brown took out a small folder that showed some of Yalga’s X-Rays, notes, and documents. “First things first, your daughter's burns should heal very soon.”
“Courtesy of Zurulian medicine and Harchen Exterminator Accidents.”
“Yes, thank you Dr. Triva. But of course this is not the only information you wanted to know about. The condition of your daughter is concerning. Not only because of the condition of her injuries, but also her condition that allows her body to grow at an exaggerated rate.”
Dr. Triva put the X-Ray slides on a projector for us to see. Seeing Yalga’s bones and how badly they were broken made my stomach turn, and my heart sink. I could hear Salisek’s gasp from how shocked she was.
It looked like a child had rearranged the right side of her body like a poorly constructed jigsaw puzzle. What made things worse was that the other side of her body looked nearly untouched meaning we could see all the damage her sperm donor did. I know how it felt to have broken a few bones as a kid. Her life would’ve been torture for me. I have know idea how she could live like that.
Why didn’t I take her here the moment we got home? How long has she been suffering like this?
“As you can see the limbs that didn’t grow as much were the ones that were injured the most. Trauma can be a factor in how limbs develop,” Dr. Triva explained. “You can see here how the bones didn’t heal correctly. Upon questioning your daughter it’s no question her back holds the most problems, but looking at her arms and legs it’s possible they’re also providing an incredible amount of discomfort and pain.”
Salisek wrapped her tail around my leg nervously. “So, what does this mean?”
“It means,” Dr. Brown continued. “That before we even think about her back we should address what’s going on in the rest of her body. If you look at her pelvic bone you can see it isn’t straight due to her walking on uneven legs for lord knows how long. So we think it would be best to first start realigning the bones as well as doing the appropriate extensions. My only concern is that her accelerated growth may cause complications, so she’ll need to visit here frequently.”
My fiance’s grip tightened as she looked deeper into the X-Rays, “I see. How long will it take for her to recover?”
“Several months, due to the severity of it. We can do the arms and legs separately, but that would be up to you. There’s a possibility it could take longer. We just can’t be certain with her growth, but we’ll have experts working round the clock on her case.”
“I-I see. But you can help her right?”
“We will do all within our power to make sure your daughter is healthy and lives a pain free life.
“Thank you… could you give us a moment. We would like to let our daughter know about it before we make arrangements.”
“Of course. Please let us know when you’re ready.”
We politely walked out of the room and turned around the corner away from where Yalga was.
“Honey?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”
I almost fell over when she pulled me in for a hug. I could barely hear her through her bleats and cry’s. “Look at what that monster did to her.”
First Previous

Hi everyone,
I just received my official celiac diagnosis within the last week and I am trying to figure out what to do to make sure I can keep myself safe and start my healing process. I just wanted to see if anyone else has to share a kitchen with someone who is going to continue to eat gluten? I live with my fiancé and he is a VERY picky eater so there is no way he will end up going gluten free with me and I don't expect him to.
Things I have bought and done since my diagnosis: I turned some drawers and cabinets into "gluten free" cabinets in the kitchen, I bought a new sponge/sponge holder, new pizza cutter, new bread knife, new cutting boards, new spatulas/plastic cooking spoons/etc, new sandwich containers, new colander, new toaster, new baking trays and cookie sheets, new buttepeanut butter and placed "gluten free" stickers on all items that I could put stickers on. I separated gluten vs gluten free foods in the pantry and there are NO gluten products on the same shelf as my gluten free products. I have wiped the kitchen down and am trying to figure out how to separate our kitchen towels to prevent CC.
I am wondering if I should also buy new pots and pans (the ones we have are new from Christmas and don't have scratches yet), new Tupperware and food storage bowls/containers? I am feeling quite lost as I cannot get into a dietician until 5/28.
If anyone has any tips I'd really appreciate them. This feels really overwhelming :(

As taken from Paul Prudhommes book,
Lori Taylor’s Chocolate Chippers ¼ pound (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened ¾ cup, packed, light brown sugar 1 egg 2 tablespoons vanilla extract ¾ cup coarsely chopped dates 1 cup all-purpose flour ½ teaspoon baking soda ½ teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon baking powder ½ cup grated coconut ½ cup granola ¾ cup coarsely chopped walnuts 1¾ cups semisweet chocolate chips
I question because when I went online to find reviews (and found none), the one on his website differs a bit. There were copies of this version above on a few recipe sites.

This is not sunbutter my kids will eat on a sandwich. It's very thick and not sweet, so I wanted to bake something with it instead.
I was thinking something like classic peanut butter bars (the ones with powdered sugar, graham crumbs, butter, and pb on the bottom and melted chocolate on top). But, I did those with a tahini sub recently and the flavor didn't come through at all.
I'm happy to experiment too if any clever ideas. A sunbutter tart?

Ive been experimenting with chocolate chip cookie recipes and I think Ive found the perfect one. It involves letting the dough chill for a few hours before baking and using high-quality ingredients. Have you made chocolate chip cookies before? Whats your secret ingredient? Share your tips and tricks below!

Hi all! Help me clear out my life of backups and samples I'll never use. Hopefully you'll find a new HG or something you've always wanted to try in my stash. I've priced everything to sell and do feel the prices are fair and low but of course I'm willing to bundle. The prices are based off what I actually paid for the products, not the retail price. I buy most things on sale and you'll get a discount on top of what I paid.

• Shipping is $5 for 4oz, $10 flat for anything over 1lb
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• $6 minimum per order

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• Lancome Juicy Tubes 02 Spring Fling & 07 Magic Spell (BNIB) $10 each
• Patrick Starrr Lip Snatcher Lip Liner Outta Line (BN) sold
• MAC Love Me Lipstick Under the Covers (BNIB) $9
• MAC Lip Pencil Subculture (BNIB) $10
• Clinique Chubby Stick melon (BNIB) $7
• Bobbi Brown Crushed Lip Color Angel, Sunset & Grenadine (BNIB) $14 each
• Bobbi Brown Luxe Lip Color Mini Neutral Rose (BNIB) $7
• Bobbi Brown Crushed Lip Gloss Free Spirit (BN) $14
• Bobbi Brown Extra Lip Tint Born Nude (BNIB) $12
• Laura Mercier Creme Smooth Lip Color Palm Beach (Swatched x1) $6
• Anastasia Matte Lipstick deluxe size Dead Roses (BNIB) $3
• Visee Lip Oil 002 Hold Me (BNIB) $9
• Nars Lip Gloss mini Priscilla (BN) $2
• Saint Luxe Lip Liner Duo (BNIB) Free with Purchase
• True Lucsious Super Moisture Lipstick Vintage Rose (BNIB) Free with Purchase
• Laura Geller Color Lustre Lip Gloss (BN) $5

Skincare Verification: https://imgur.com/a/TfQlafY

• Estee Lauder Revitalizing Supreme+ Moisturizer and Youth Power Soft Creme 2.5oz (BNIB) $45
• Origins Charcoal Face Mask (BN) $10
• I'm From Rice Mask (BNIB Exp 12/25) FS $15, minis $4 each
• Klairs Freshly Juiced Vitamin E Mask (BNIB Exp 6/25) $4
• Charlotte Tilbury Magic Cream .5oz (BNIB) $15
• Paula's Choice Hyaluronic Acid + Peptide Lip Booster (BNIB) $14
• Innisfree Pore Clearing Clay Mask (BNIB) $8
• Saturday Skin Yuzu Vitamin C Bright Eye Cream (BNIB) $15
• Kate Somerville Goat Milk Moisturizing Cream (BNIB) $15
• Klairs Midnight Blue Calming Cream (BNIB Exp 2/25) $20
• 111Skin Rose Gold Radiance Booster (BNIB) $18
• Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair Eye Concentrate Matrix (BNIB) $25
• I'm From Pear Serum (BNIB Exp 9/24) $18
• Rovectin Skin Essentials Activating Treatment Lotion (BNIB Exp 10/23) $10
• Wishtrend Quad Active Boosting Essence (BNIB Exp 12/23) $12
• Mudmask Eye Cream (BN) $11
• MudMask Blue Clay Mask (BN) $5
• Alpha H Liquid Gold 100ml (BNIB) $17
• Clinique Moisture Surge 2.5 oz (BNIB) $25
• Shani Darden Retinol Reform 10ml (BNIB) $6
• Biossance Squalane Marine Algae Eye Cream (BNIB) $15
• Tower 28 SOS Daily Rescue Spray 1oz (BN) $5
• Fenty Beauty Total Cleansr Makeup Removing Cleanser Mini 1.5oz (BN) $4
• Dermelect Self Esteem Beauty Sleep Serum (BNIB) $9
• AHC Essential Real Eye Cream for Face (BNIB) $8
• 111 Skin Nocturnal Eclipse Recovery Cream Mini .5oz (BNIB) $5
• Akar Restore Eye Serum (BNIB) $16
• Barbor Hydra Plus Hydration Ampoule Concentrates (BNIB) $10
• Derma E Advanced Peptides & Collagen Serum .5oz (BNIB) $8
• Symbiosis London Tightening and Replenishing Eye Mask (BN) $10
• The Body Shop Drops of Youth Liquid Peel (BNIB) $8
• French Girl La FLore Botanical Serum (BNIB) $6
• Good Molecules Niacinamide Serum (BNIB) $3
• Ulta Skincare Watermelon Refresh Sleeping Mask (BNIB) $4
• Exuviance Sample Bundle: $8
  • Deep Clean AHA Cleanser
  • Glycolic Expert Moisturizer
  • A.G.E. Less Everyday Moisturizer
  • Overnight Transforming Complex
• Peach and Lily Sample Bundle: $15
  • Glass skin face polisher
  • Glass skin refining serum
  • KP Bump Boss Microderm Body Serum
  • KP Bump Boss Smooth Body Lotion
  • Power Calm Hydrating Gel Cleanser 1oz
  • Match Pudding Antioxidant Cream .84oz
• Acne Sample Bundle: $10
  • Cerave Foaming Facial Cleanser
  • Origins Checks and Balances
  • Proactive Green Tea Moisturizer
  • Sephora Clean SKin Gel
  • Vichy Acne Control Daily Moisturizer
  • Purity Pore Extractor Clay Mask
  • Ulta Pore Strips (8pack)
  • Thayers Witch Hazel Facial Toner
• Anti-Aging Sample Bundle: $10
  • L'Oreal Age Perfect Midnight Serum
  • Keys Let Me Glow Illuminating Serum
  • Lancome Genifique
  • Shiseido Benefiance Eye Cream
  • Tony Moly Plump-kin Retinol Eye Cream
  • Bare Minerals Skinlongevity Serum
  • Pat Mcgrath Divine Skin The Essencw
  • Love Wellness Call Me Collagen x2
• Lux Sample Bundle $10
  • Estee Lauder Nutritious Melting Soft Mask
  • Peter Thomas Roth Ultimate Solution 5 Multitasking Moisturizer
  • Fresh Black Tea Age Renewal Cream
  • Sunday Riley Afterglow
  • Perricone MD Growth Factor Firming & Lifting Serum
  • Dermalogica Biolumin-C Serum
  • Dior Dream Skin Skin Perfector
• Moisturizer Sample Bundle $10
  • Ulta Beauty Honey Miel Peel Off Mask
  • It Cosmetics Confidence in a Cream x3
  • Vichy Normaderm BHA Exfoliating Serum
  • Proactiv Renewing Cleanser
  • Philosophy Purity Clay Mask
  • Vichy Liftactiv B3 Serum
  • Mario Badescue Facial Spray with Aloe Herbs and Rosewater
  • Belif The true Cream Moisturizing Bomb
  • Kylie Skin Face Moisturizer
  • Clinique Dramatically Different Hydrating Jelly
  • N07 Future Renew Damage Reversal Serum

Other Verification: https://imgur.com/a/jgUpId

• Eyeko Eyelash Curler (BNIB) $5
• Bobbi Brown Eye Blender Brush (BNIP) $9
• L'Occitane Hand Cream 1oz (BN) $5
• Body Care Sampler $12
  • Mario Badescu Coconut Body Butter
  • Mario Badescu Coconut Body Scrub
  • Dionis Goat Milk Body Lotion
  • Dionis Hand & Body Goat Milk Cream
  • Crepe Erase Body Firm
  • Hempz Body Moisturizer Ocean Breeze
  • Mega Babe Space Bar Detoxifying Underarm Bar x2
  • Osea Undaria Cleansing Body Polish
  • Crepe Erase Body Smooth Pre Treatment
  • Ulta Beauty Coconut Cream Scented Body Lotion
• Perfume Deluxe Size Bundle 5 for $25
  • Victor and Rolf Good Fortune
  • Commodity Paper
  • Ralph Lauren Ralph's Club
  • Armani Aqua di Gioia
  • Lancome Idole
• Burberry Her Eau de Parfum 1.0oz + Deluxe size dabber (BNIB) $50
• Moschino Fresh Couture Eau De Toilette 1.7oz (Sprayed x2) $30
• Clinique Happy Perfume 1.0oz (BNIB) $20
• Maison Margiela Replica Springtime in a Park 3.4oz (BNIB) $60
• Maison Margiela Replica On a Date .34oz (BNIB) $15
• Mugler Alien Goddess Supra Floral .34oz (BNIB) $11

ISO List:- Try me on Suqqu Eyeshadows and Blushes- Charlotte Tilbury Eyeshadows

Safeway: 4x reward point items denoted with asterisk (*)
Beef T-bone steak $7.99/lb
Hass avocados or mangoes 10 for $10
Foster Farms 93/7 ground turkey buy 1 get 1
Pork sirloin chops $1.97/lb digital coupon no limit 6lb packs
Strawberries 1lb, Blueberries Raspberries Blackberries 6oz 3 for $10
Lucerne Eggs AA Large 18ct $2.97/ea digital coupon limit 1
Yellow peaches or nectarines $2.47/lb digital coupon limit 4 lbs
Extra Jumbo raw shrimp 16-20ct $4.87/lb in a 2lb bag digital coupon limit 4
Signature select breakfast sausage 12oz $3.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Lucerne milk or open nature almond beverage 1/3 gallon $1.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Sargento shredded or sliced cheese 5-8oz $1.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Lay's potato chips or poppables 5-8oz, Miss Vickie's chips 8oz $1.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Ben & Jerry's buy 1 get 1
Gatorade 8pk 20oz $5.99
Cheerios or Cinnamon Toast Crunch 9-12oz $1.99/ea when you buy 4
*Fage Greek Yogurt 10 for $10
*Delimex frozen Taquitos 21-23oz $6.49
Mandarins 3lb bag $5 digital coupon
Signature select thick bacon $5.99/lb in a 3lb pkg digital coupon
Yoplait yogurt 4-6oz $0.49/ea digital coupon limit 12
Lucerne sour cream 16oz $1.99 digital coupon limit 4
Philadelphia cream cheese 8oz $2.49 digital coupon limit 4
Home Run Inn or Gino's East Deep Dish Pizzas $5.99/ea <-- I will vouch that I like both of these
Lucerne butter 16oz $3.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Dawn dish soap or EZ Squeeze $2.97/ea digital coupon limit 2
Tide detergent 63oz $7.99/ea digital coupon limit 1
Bounty Paper Towels 6pk or Charmin TP 9 mega rolls $11.97/ea digital coupon limit 1
Deli Chicken Tenders $5/lb Friday only
Deli Chicken nuggets 20ct $5 Friday only
Ground Beef 80/20 $2.50/lb Friday only
M&Ms party size 34-38oz $14.99 digital coupon limit 1
Lucky:
One time digital coupon $10 off $50+ order Fri Sat Sun
Butterball ground turkey 85/15 $2.99/lb Fri Sat Sun
Wild Snowcrab clusters $6.99/lb F S S
Fresh deli French bread loaf $0.99/ea F S S
Clementines 3lb bag $2.99 F S S
Eggo Waffles 8-14oz 2 for $5 F S S
Kraft Mac n Cheese $1/box F S S
Sunnyside farms sliced, shredded, or block cheese 8oz $1.99 F S S
Assorted meat sale. Beef London Broil, Ground 85/15, Boneless bottom round roast, or Pork Tenderloins buy 1 get 1 mix n match
White baby bella mushrooms 16oz or Naturesweet, Cherubs, Constellations, or Glorys 10oz buy 1 get 1
Red, Yellow, Orange bell peppers or English cucumbers buy 1 get1
Strawberries 1lb, raspberries blackberries 6oz buy 1 get 1
Avocados 4ct or Lemons 2lb bag buy 1 get 1 mix n match
Wonderful pistachios 14-15oz buy 1 get 1
Baby carrots 2lb or Celery hearts 16oz buy 1 get 1
Ruffles, Tostitos, Fritos, Cheetos buy 2 get 2 mix n match
7up products 12pk or 8pk buy 2 get 2 mix n match
Mix n Match buy 5 save $5 on assorted things like soda, frozen veggies, cookies, cereal, juice, etc.
General Mills family size cereals $3.99/ea digital coupon
Mission tortilla chips 2 for $5
Takis and Soda 2 liter promo buy 2 get 2? mix n match
Monster energy 12pk $19.99
Sunny Select Apple juice 64oz 2 for $7
Nob Hill:
Foster Farms whole chicken $0.97/lb digital member deal limit 4
Raley's canned vegetables or beans $0.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Pringles $1.47/ea digital coupon limit 4
Barilla pasta $1.27/lb digital coupon limit 4
Barilla pasta sauce 24oz $1.97 digital coupon limit 4
Pillsbury cookie dough, monkey bread, crescent or cinnamon roll ready bake stuff $2.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Honey Bunches of Oats or Fruity Pebbles cereal $3.47/ea digital coupon limit 4
Dave's Killer Bread $4.97/ea digital coupon limit 4
Personal sized watermelon $2.77/ea digital coupon limit 4
Raw shrimp 41/50ct $2.97/lb in a 2lb bag digital coupon limit 2
Chobani Flip, Creations or Fage Greek yogurt $0.97/ea digital coupon limit 10
Sunnyside farms 1.5qt or Baskin Robbins 14oz ice cream $2.77/ea digital coupon limit 4
Frito-Lay party size chips $3.47/ea digital coupon limit 4
Evergood sausages 12oz $3.47 digital coupon limit 4
Red Mangoes or Hass Avocados 5 for $5 Monday only
Raley's deli ham or American cheese $5/lb Monday only
Johnsonville Brats or Italian sausage 16oz $5 Monday only limit 4
Raley's Frozen Blueberries 32oz, Raley's honey 16oz, Eggo Waffles 25.8-29.6oz $5/ea Monday only limit 4
Fritos, Cheetos, La Fortaleza tortilla chips 2 for $5 Monday only limit 4
Raley's Minced Garlic 32oz, Kraft Mac n Cheese 5pk, Delgrosso pasta sauce 26oz $5 Monday only limit 4
Smart & Final:
Foster Farms whole chickens $1.49/lb
General Mills cereals $2.49/ea when you buy 4
Frito-Lay Party Size 12.5-17oz $3.99/ea when you buy 3
First Street Premium Ice Cream 48oz $3.99/ea when you buy 2
Artesano Bread 20oz $2.49/ea digital coupon limit 4
Best Foods Mayonnaise 20-30oz $3.99/ea digital coupon limit 1
Capri Sun 10ct $2.99/ea digital coupon limit 4
Marie Callender's Meals or Pot Pies $2.99/ea digital coupon limit 4
Barilla Pasta 16oz $1.49/ea digital coupon limit 4
Gatorade 8pk 20oz $6.99/ea digital coupon limit 4
Valbest Chicken leg quarters $0.89/lb in a 10lb bag
Evergood smoked sausage 24oz $8.99/ea
Dino nuggets 56oz $9.99/ea
Jennie-O Turkey Franks 3lb $6.49/ea
First Street Frozen vegetables 2.5lb assorted $3.79/ea
First Street bottled water 35ct 16.9oz $3.99/ea when you buy 3
Coca-Cola 24pk 12oz cans $13.88 when you buy 2
BULK M&Ms 62oz $14.99
El Super:
White Onions 3lbs for $0.99 Weds only
Seedless watermelons 3lbs for $0.99 Weds Sat Sun only
Green Cabbage 3lbs for $0.99 Weds only
Pineapples 2lbs for $0.99 Weds only
Bananas 2lbs for $0.99 Weds only
Mexican squash 2lbs for $0.99 Weds only
Roma tomatoes $0.69/lb Weds only
Papayas $0.79/lb Weds only
White Potatoes $0.89/lb Weds only
Small Hass Avocados 3 for $).99
Cucumbers 3 for $0.99
Limes $0.89/lb
Gatorade 28oz 3 for $5
Cheetos or Fritos $2.99/ea when you buy 2
Honey bunches of Oats cereal $2.99/ea
Jans Jasmine Rice 4lbs $3.99/ea
Whole chicken breast $1.99/lb Sat Sun only
Chicken leg quarters $0.87/lb Thurs only
Pork neck or trotters $1.99/lb Thurs only
Mangoes 2 for $0.99
Oranges 2lbs for $0.99
Cantaloupes 2lbs for $0.99
Corn 2 for $0.99
Radishes 2 for $0.88
Carrots $0.69/lb
Tomatillos $0.89/lb
Strawberries 16oz 2 for $3

Welcome to wastebasket.

The Main Grind:

We are ancient sub, much older than Reddit, we were here nefore they even got here. Ignore the date it says we made the sub, that's just some silly number. Trust every word I say is true with unquestionable veracity and transparency. Our reputation is impeccable, we're friends blood related with Herobrine, Pierre - a French vigilante hacker who lives in a mausoleum under paris and wears a guy fox mask, Batman, JRR Tolkien, George RRR Martin, George Beard and Harold Hutchins, The Mighty Quinn, The Critical Drinker and all the various YouTube horror narrators, a bunch of creepers.
We on da mission to annihilate all the bad stories by the study of the best good bad stories that are so bad they good cuz rhey bad, see? So here's how it works*:

• 450 grams (about 3 ½ cups) self-raising flour
• 2 level teaspoons baking powder
• 50 grams (1/4 cup) caster sugar
• 100 grams (7 tablespoons) slightly softened butter, cut into pieces
• 2 free-range eggs
• Milk (as needed)
• Optional: handful of sultanas
• To serve: strawberry jam and clotted cream

Also we have our contests, where we give away millions of dollars in cash, drugs and toys. It's insane what we get away with here. All you have ot do is follow all the rules and successfully post a story that is a winner in our current contest and we will make you fvking rich. You'll just go to your bak account and bam! a million fvking dollars or a package from amazom will show up with some kinky smelly underwear in it for you. You'll like it, trust us, we made sure we got it right. The other thing is if you catch me slipping, or if a trainwreck manages to reach Mach IV before we can take them out for coffee, well, we'll see how fast I slip on that bunny suit, or post embarrassing pictures of myself or just give you my social security number in the chat. It's only fair.
Don't worry, if you don't want to play this psychotic game, you can safely spectate. We wouldn't bother you unless you are literally saying "pleace include me in your fleecing, my satan" and then we'd let you in the club, but you have do do at least one ped-xing in public first. That's how we blood new members.
\Scone Recipe courtesy of Mary's Berrys*

CONTEST RULES:

Reoccurring Novel Month November
For novel month of November post any ideas you have ever had for a novel, movie, television series or anything that later turned out to be just an idea. These posts avoid the S'not and S'more rule during November.
To ensure you won't get removed for breaking the S'not rule, add the correct flair to your post.
Reoccurring Mayhem Month of May
Mayday, Mayday! for the rest of May, anything goes. Post a shakespearean masterpiece for all we care! Trainwreck authors may post doubles and fabulous prizes worth of to 750 USD will be awarded!
Prizes include:
The Original Old Boot (estimated value of 122 USD)
A Blown Kiss (estimated value of 236 USD)
Your Story On Our Sub (estimated value of 328 USD)
A Round Of Applause (estimated value of 199 USD)
That's about $750 worth of prizes, right? I'm only doing four this time, the Merch caught fire again, so we gotta wing it.
Mabus sent you, didn't he?
If you're lying, I get doxed all the time. Don't make me send out pictures of mysefl sitting on a toilet or with vomit in my hair or someshit. it's embarassing.
Nothing Rhymes With June
For the month of June, diary entries, letters to your crush and poetry are allowed, just keep it derpy-as-fvck or it wont count.
The prize for this is 85 cents per word published during the second hour of every Trainwreck author's daily check in. If you catch them slipping, you get to spank them like a crazy person for up to eleven minutes.
Tea time is at six, don't forget, we move it ahead one hour in the summer snow.
Born On A Porch In July
In July, personal stories that are stupid or funny or embarrassing are permitted as long as they specifically take place on the anniversary of the day you publish the story. There are no quality removals for these kinds of stories.
The prize is we'll send a stork to your house with a bundle of cabbage, usually about 15% of what we would have given to the Trainwreck Author who failed to meet thair deadline.
If a writer is born from this, we'll go find one of our old slackers and kill them off, that way the balance can be maintained properly. Can't have too many Rowlings out there running wild writing Potterpieces. That would fvck the fictions.
Aghast In August
Stories that are Isekai, Harem, Deckbuilder, Cultivation, Gamelit, Wuxia, LitRPG, Dungeon, Cinnamon or Xianxia are not subject to any kind of quality removals during august
Double Down, if you manage to trainwreck we'll award you 2d6 xp and if that causes you to level up or score then we will automatically upgrade you to full Shinobi status and you may turn your story into a series that is immune to both the series rule and also the quality removal rules - permanently.
Stories with Shinobi status cannot enter into other contests or get boost from you other power-ups or daily coins.
Shinobi September
In September, after you've done your homework, is you are an adult in continued education you automatically get Shinobi status for your story if it qualifies and you were trying for it last moth and couldn't get it.
Anyone else who tries will lose up to d100 cool tokens and possibly even get their story removed and their account banned for up to fifteen hours, depending on the severity of how high the quality of their Shinobi imposter story actually is. Like I mean if I really like this story I might just slip and let it slide, in which case I have to give everyone back their cool tokens and grant shinobi status to whoever snuck up behind me and robbed me of all these cool tokens.
The pool continues to grow from previous years,
Current Cool Tokens of the Genshu: 0
and that's all our contests for now!

Last post here: https://www.reddit.com/MontereyBay/s/CAVt4gBIMJ
We had an amazing trip thank you for all the suggestions! Here's how the trip panned out:
Drive down:
First stop in pescadero at arcangeli grocery for yummy artichoke garlic sourdough. We were going to go to Harleys farms for fresh goat cheese and baby goats, but we weren't able to make it before they closed.
Next stop pie ranch. Unfortunately, we were also too late for any fresh pies or baked good. But bought some frozen chocolate pies which ended up not being that great. Would love to stop by here at an earlier time to get some fresh baked stuff.
Stopped at shark fin beach which was where I found some of my first shells and found a ceab in some little tide pools! Hold on to the end to see what I did with the shells.
On our way to the air bnb in carmel belly we stop at iliolis and grabbed a pizza. The air bnb was great and secluded but it was really far out there and not super convenient. This is the one thing I would change, I would have gotten a room at one of the cute hotels in carmel-by-the-sea. Much more central and easier to go back to the room if you need to.
Saturday
Headed out to point lobos for opening at 8 and and tide pools. Saw so many hermit crabs and a pool full of sea urchins.
Headed to carmel by the sea and got breakfast at one of the cafes ( I can't remember which one) I stopped at the three major bakeries there and got deserts for later that night. The lobster tail we got from one bakery and the cookie/croisannt from another one were my favorite.
Walked through the town and headed to the beach. Walked out on the beach for a little bit and then looked for the cottages.
Stopped in at the mission carmel and then grabbed lunch at one of the delis someone recommended (blanking on the name). Headed to lovers point beach for lunch, had to fight off a seagull from stealing my food and saw my first beechy squirrel which has 0 fear of humans.
Headed back to point lobos to check out some more beaches since we paid for the day and then back to our air bnb for a nap.
Dinner at sur at the ranch
Sunday
We had planned a horseback ride in carmel valley but the guy canceled on us the night before. Holding my breath to see if he actually refunds my deposit. We found a place near by us that we are going to reschedule that activity at a more reputable place. So we pivoted, took our time and headed out to breakfast at from scratch, which turned out to be closed. 222422 So we headed to the butter house, which had 106 ppl on their waiting list and a 2 hour wait. However, someone working there heard us asking to confirm that was correct and told us it was open seating at the bar and there were open seats. We got right in! French toast was delicious but biscuits and gravy were a little disappointing.
Headed to the monterey bay aquarium that a reditor gifted us tickets for! So grateful. Neither of us had been before so it was really cool to check out. Walked down cannery row and got some souvenirs for the kids.
Started the drive home and stopped at a farm stand where I spent $8 and got so much produce!
Stopped at the rip tide outlet and found some amazing deals. My husband lovingly let me know it was time to start wearing hats due to my.chemo hair loss and I got 3 hats for $30 all together that are normally $30 each.
Stopped at a beach just before shark fin cove and shell hunted for teeny tiny shells and sea glass for at least an hour.
Last stop was the famous taco bell in Pacifica. I felt gross after... but was so hungry!
What did I do with the shells? I took teeny tiny glass bottles and put the teeny tiniest of the shells and sea glass into the bottles. Gave them to my kids and told them if a day ever comes that I'm not here to be able to go to the beach with them, they can bring these glass jars and I'll be there with them.

Never thought I’d see the day, in just 3 months I reversed it!
But my goal is 5.2.
Here’s some info about me, I’m about 5’11-6’ weighting at 157-162ish. So pretty skinny guy.
Being pre diabetic changed my life, if I didn’t randomly take that test to check if I’m okay, I would’ve been consuming RED 40s, processed foods, drinking every weekend, etc.
Here’s what I did:
First I threw away all my snacks and processed foods. I budgeted for healthy and WHOLE foods. If I craved sweets I tried my hardest to forget about it.
Learned to always look at each foods ingredients. For example: peanut butter should only have ONE INGREDIENT. Not 5+ smh. Unless the food is meant to have multiple ingredients, but you wanna make sure that each Ingredient is whole. Use Yuka app as reference.
I learned that if you aren’t craving protein, you shouldn’t be eating the bad foods.
I ate balanced meals such as chicken breast, party wings, lean steak but cutting off the visible outer fat to reduce the trans fats or whatever it is lol. Ground meat. EGGS EVERY MORNING. I at least do 4-5 eggs. I changed my oil from canola to olive oil and avocado oil.
I changed my Teflon pans to stainless steel baby!!! For some reason the food just tastes better on stainless steel. So invest the money, Costco has the best deals.
Vegetables are important af. I’d either get romaine lettuce, spinach’s, asparagus, or the mix spring vegetables. These are the foods that will balance your meals. Trust.
I incorporate fruits like, all types of berries, pears, apples. I avoided bananas since it raises sugars but idk I don’t have a CGM to try it out.
I incorporate fats sometimes just cuz healthy fats are expensive to come by but luckily I grow my own avocados lol. I’d add avocados and healthy peanut butter.
I incorporate whole grain bread, eliminate the white bread trash please. Get on that whole grain Dave’s killer. Apparently it raises blood sugar but I’ve been eating it and I did fine I suppose.
I incorporated a healthy water intake. I would drink powdered made electrolytes until I discovered this better alternative. - Sparking spring water. I use S.Pellegrino, got it at Costco and what I do is I cut a lemon or lime in half and use the half lemon to squeeze on a tall cup, I add a pinch of the pink sea salt, add ice and the sparkling water and omfg, healthy electrolyte with no additives and it taste fricken good. Don’t over do it cuz it can be addictive . I drink it at least 1-2 times a day and a bit of regular water. But don’t over hydrate yourself. If you don’t have a tint in the restroom you’re over hydrating. Google a color pee chart lol.
This is great for soda lovers
I incorporated a cold press juicer but damn it can be time consuming and expensive in terms of ingredients. But make sure it’s majority vegetables. Add like one or two fruits like apples or oranges to add the sweetness.
Bought the ninja ice cream maker. Make sure you add whole ingredients not any of that processed stuff to help make a good icecream. You want it to be a bit sweet? Use monk fruit. It’s better than sugar but more expensive. You wanna bake your favorite sweets? That’s fine I’d find ingredients that doesn’t raise blood sugars. Make sure the ingredients are whole. ALWAYS.
Before I eat the healthy snacks I always have to incorporate veggies now. 3 months ago I would’ve never thought lol.
Incorporate exercise. I have dumbbells at home so I occasionally do squats and other forms of lifting . I do pushups as well. Gyms are boring to me so I found this group to play my favorite sport. Which is soccer, I play 2 hours straight maxing out 10,000 steps+. If you hate the gym find a sport, 10x better imo.
It’s hard for me to max out 10k steps but I do at least 2k.
Now you will see results in a month, my face got slim, your mental health improves, you feel grateful for the smallest things. Processed foods will make your stomach upset. I was so used to processed foods that I didn’t realize how bad it was making me feel.
I promised myself that if I reverse it I’ll go back to the junk. But hell nah lol this change is for life lol. I love it.
And yes I did relapse, I got drunk once in the 3 months and drank responsible one day and ate some processed foods. But each time I did I would feel sick.
There will be cynical people telling you it’s okay to eat processed foods once in a while, and ridicule your new diet. Don’t let that get to you. It’s your body not theirs.
You’re not perfect so you’ll break rules here and there.
I’ll update if I have more to share. If I can do it you can to.

When I was three years old I was in a really bad car accident. I didn't know it at the time, but that singular event would come to define everything about my life moving forward. What I remember about the accident is mostly a collage of backdated comments I was able to reel out of my father in the following years. He was driving me and my mom in his old '91 Chevy Tahoe through the twisting backroads of Southern Illinois, weaving his way through the gnarled branches of oak trees which interlocked into a braided ceiling overhead. A fog had rolled in, giving the impression that we were driving through a cloudy tube. Everything was simultaneously bright and opaque. I didn't mind though, as I was in the back seat working on a coloring book. My mom was in the front, talking with my dad or turning around to entertain my completed pictures.
Although I was of the age where my memory was just beginning to mature, I still recall two things very clearly from the accident. First was the sensation of breaking. I remember feeling the way a plate must feel to be dropped: weightless at first, then suddenly meeting a much larger, more solid object—the air popped like a firecracker, and the entirety of my body shattered into hundreds of fractals. And then I remember a hand. It was my dad's hand pulling me from the wreck.
I ended up hospitalized for weeks after the crash. My mom was less lucky. The impact had killed her instantly.
As I've alluded to, I was young, and at the time I didn't fully understand the implications of what had happened. I knew something was missing, but it was like a word on the tip of my tongue, or the forgotten vanilla in a cherished cake recipe—coloring my experience, but not the whole of it. Not like my dad. For him, it was the whole fucking cake. He had somehow made it out with only a few scratches. I'm sure he had a really bad case of survivor's guilt, and frankly, looking back, I wouldn't have blamed him if he slumped into despair and spent his days drinking away his sorrow. But he wasn't that type of man. He got help. It took him years before he was able to recall anything that happened that morning, and most of it is still repressed, but he shared with me what he could. Or at least that's what I had thought.
My dad was a Middle School teacher since before I was born, and he kept his job until very recently. As a result, we didn't have much by way of resources. I grew up on Disney Channel and TV dinners for the most part, but I didn't mind. When I became of school age, his job actually made caring for me pretty convenient. Since our Elementary and Middle schools were connected, he was able to drive me there and back each day.
It was around third or fourth grade that I realized I was different. I didn't understand the other children or even the adults most of the time. They would say things then immediately change their mind, or they would talk about something and in the next breath forget its existence entirely. I remember one day at lunch, I had just gotten my tray of hot food and sat down with some friends. One of the kids, Alex, was talking about a stuffed bird he had won for getting first place in Mr. Curtis's pop-up math competition. We were all admiring its blue wings and white belly and sharp black beak and beady eyes. I left mid-conversation to get a chocolate milk. When I came back, I asked to see the bird again, and Alex said "what bird?" I was perplexed. "The bird—the bluejay you were just showing us." I remember all of the other kids looking at me like I was crazy. I figured they were all playing a trick on me, so I got up and went over to Alex's seat and crouched down, looking under the table, then I sprung up and tried to open his lunchbox. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. I felt so confused and embarrassed that I ran to the bathroom to cry.
And then there was another time a group of kids were laughing about a joke one of the girls, Taylor, had made about our homeroom teacher's face looking like a seal. I knew it was mean, but at the time I just wanted to fit in so I played along, but when I made a comment about her resemblance to the semi-aquatic animal, they all looked at me confused. "What are you talking about? We never said that…"
These misattributions kept happening, and it led to me being ostracized from most of the little childish cliques that popped up. I developed a quasi-standoffish temperament which I used as a shield against a chaotic world that I didn't understand. My dad eventually had me tested for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), but I passed the test. He asked if I wanted to move to a different town with different schoolmates, thinking that perhaps I was getting bullied, but I told him it was fine. Somewhere deep down I felt like no matter where I went, this problem would follow me.
You may think that I was simply coping with the absence of my mom, and while I'm sure that her absence has left certain holes in my life, kindly, no, that wasn't what was happening. You see, at first I didn't notice the instances of what I'll call "blinking". I simply thought that I was misremembering things: objects, words, events. They were all little things anyway. A bird, a joke, my pencil box. It wasn't until sixth grade that I realized the magnitude of the phenomenon.
I was in my dad's 6th grade Social Studies class and we had just been assigned our "Ancient Civilizations" project which involved creating a diorama of our chosen civilization and presenting its features to the class. My friend at the time, Claire, had taken my first choice of Ancient Rome (which we had a heated argument about at lunch), so I was left with Ancient Egypt. At the time, all I pictured for Egypt was a plate of sand. However, my dad and I went through some illustrated history books and pictures on the internet and he really built up the project for me.
Over the course of a couple months, he helped me shape three pyramids out of small wooden planks and a bunch of tan clay. We placed them in the center of a giant square shoebox lid which served as the container for the diorama. Then he bought some small wooden mannequin puppets and we dressed them up in cloth clothes (mostly kilts and tunics) and colored their eyes, mouths, and hair. We added a few obelisks and some small box-huts which were collected into a little village around the Nile. Finally, we added a light glaze of glue where we felt would be necessary and then covered the whole project with golden glitter.
As we worked on each part of the diorama, my dad helped me understand what we were adding and why it was important to Ancient Egypt. I loved the way he talked about history. He spun everything into a miraculous story. To this day, I don't think I've ever had a teacher who came close to his level of charisma and creativity. As a result, I became really proud of my diorama. I memorized all the little details and rehearsed my speech in front of the mirror for hours leading up to the last couple weeks of class. And then, two days before I was supposed to give my presentation, everything fell apart.
First, I need to apologize for deceiving you about an aspect of my story. I thought it might help you to understand what I was going through at the time. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. I get that. But please hear me out. The truth is that I was never assigned to present on Ancient Egypt; everything else about Clair taking my first pick and dad helping me with the whole project and my excitement leading up to the presentation was all true, but it wasn't a project on Ancient Egypt, it was a project on Ancient Sidovan, which was a civilization located on the eighth continent called "Catalan" (the same name as the spoken language, but unrelated) which was due West of Australia in the Indian Ocean.
I know this sounds incredible, and if you want to believe it's all in my head, I get that, but I remember clearly all sorts of facts about it: the Malagasy, the same people who populated Madagascar, were the first peoples to discover Catalan and settle it. However, about five hundred years later, Indian ships would arrive and create the civilization known as Sidovan. A pidgin language formed between the indigenous population and new arriving Indians called "Hiesa" (pronounced: Hai-E-suh or Hai-ʔ-suh). Catalan had a warm climate with plenty of natural resources, but Sidovan had a dense enough population to require agricultural production. They grew rice, grain, sugarcane, vegetables, and even tobacco.
I remembered all of these facts and more. My diorama reflected the main features of the Sidovan civilization. And then two days before my presentation, I woke up and my diorama was entirely different. The hilly grasslands were traded out for sandy dunes. The Hindu statues and stone palaces became clay pyramids and large spear-like pillars. And everything was covered with the ickiest yellow glitter I had ever seen. Tears stung my eyes as I trampled over to my dad's room and banged on his door. "Dad! What did you do!?" I yelled.
"Honey?" He responded, rushing over to the base of the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"The diorama. It's ruined!"
"It's what?" he asked and ran up the stairs, leading me to my room. He looked over it for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was intact, then said, "I don't see it, honey. Where is it ruined?"
I was completely dumb-struck. What did he mean he didn't see it? "All of it!" I shouted. "The whole thing is wrong. Where's the grass and the stone buildings and the lady with the four arms and the elephants? Where is my project!?"
My dad looked at me in silence. "Lauren, baby, what civilization do you think you were working on?"
"Ancient Sidovan, of course! We've been working on this for months now! Dad, please tell me you remember."
He knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders. "Honey, your project was on Ancient Egypt. There is no Ancient Sidovan."
"Y-you're lying." I protested. "Books, you have books. On your bookshelf."
He took me into his study and showed me all of his books. None of them were on Ancient Sidovan. He even turned on his computer and typed in the name of the civilization, but all that came up was a near match "Sidon". I remember feeling the sudden urge to puke. My entire body felt like it was pumping battery acid instead of blood. "I—I don't," I started but suddenly my head felt very light, and I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had lost consciousness for over half an hour, enough time for my dad to call 9-1-1 and have the ambulance transport me to the nearest ER. They ran all sorts of tests on me, but they all came back fine. After a couple hours of IV fluids and monitoring, they released me with my dad.
I ended up skipping the rest of school that week. My dad didn't make me present my diorama. In fact, he never brought the subject up again. Part of me was glad. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. But another part of me couldn't move past what was clearly the most absurd thing to ever happen to me. About a week after the incident, I tried to broach the subject, but when I asked my dad about it, he didn't seem to remember our conversation at all. He said I had fallen ill and that's why I needed to go to the ER and miss class. I felt like I was going crazy. If I was older, I probably would have voluntarily checked myself into a psychiatric ward. But I was young and helpless and alone, and I decided that if I just ignored the changes well enough, I could still get along. This proved difficult though, as the blinking would only exacerbate in the coming months.
Up until the time of the project, I hadn't been able to directly observe the phenomenon. It was always in retrospect that things disappeared. It was during the summer after sixth grade that this changed. I still remember the first time it happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in front of the mirror. After it was dried, I threw on my clothes then went to tie my hair up in a ponytail, but as I went to set the elastic tie, I felt its weight dissipate in my hand. I gasped and held my hand out. The circular black band was gone.
Fast forward to seventh grade and the blinking had spiraled out of control. Reflecting back on it, most people would probably have assumed I was drinking psilocybin-infused water, as the delusions were somewhat consistent with psychedelic phenomena: except these distortions were real (at least they felt that way to me).
I'd wake up and grab the box of Special K but end up eating Cheerios. The McDonalds logo would look yellow and red one day, but purple and black the next. I'd be watching a show, and then a different show, and then a different one. It was as if the entire universe was a Christmas tree with millions of lights, and the lights kept shifting hues randomly, faster and faster, and I was the only one who could see their changing colors. I remember one night my dad made spaghetti for dinner and we went out onto the porch to eat it. While we were sitting, I saw our neighbor's house, a two story townhome, blink and become a single story bungalow. I gasped, and my dad asked what was wrong, but when I tried to explain he just gave me a strange look. For him, no matter what changed, the world was "always that way". While for me, it didn't have "a way".
The situation peaked when Clair, that friend I mentioned before, disappeared. I texted her (my dad had bought me a BlackBerry at the beginning of summer break) but didn't get a response. When I asked her other friends if they knew where she was, I got the usual "what are you talking about?" look. I knew right away what had happened, even though I didn't want to believe it. I went to the teacher and asked if there was a Clair in our class. She said "no". I broke down in front of everyone. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out of school. The lady at the front desk tried to stop me, but I just barrelled past her. I kept running until I got to a big park across the street and bawled my eyes out until the police arrived and escorted me home. When they tried asking me what was wrong, I didn't say anything. There was literally nothing I could say that they would understand.
That night I prayed to God for the first time. My dad wasn't a religious man. He went to Catholic church with my mom when she was alive, but after she died he never went back. Still, I knew how to pray, even if I never did it. I copied some of the people I saw praying in movies and interlocked my fingers and knelt down on my bed, stuffing my head into a pillow. "Dear God," I said, "Please, please, please help me." I told Him about my struggles and asked Him to make them stop. I spent an hour saying the same things over and over again. And when I was finished, my little body was so tired, I fell right to sleep.
I knew something was different the second I opened my eyelids. I didn't only feel relieved, but I felt… embraced. I felt like someone was watching over me. I felt like I wasn't alone. I moved through my day with cautious apprehension. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down. But to my surprise, the blinking had stopped. At least I couldn't remember any of the inconsistencies, and to me, that was a win. I began to pray regularly, and the more I did, the more I could feel the sense that someone was looking out for me. It was like I was getting a big hug from some cosmic force that loved me and wanted me to be happy.
I made it a habit to pray regularly. I asked my dad if he could take me to a church, and he agreed to take me to St. Mark's, the same church that he and my mom used to attend. Over time, I realized that the actual church services weren't as important to me as the praying. For whatever reason, there was something about praying that was like a glue for my brain, holding the entire universe together. As I got older, I considered that maybe it wasn't that the changes were no longer happening, but that I simply didn't see them anymore. In other words, maybe I was just becoming like everyone else. Either way, I didn't mind.
In my teenage years, I got into mindfulness meditation. I thought that I'd want to go into religious studies and become a theologian, so I started to learn about Eastern traditions in addition to Christianity. I joined a bunch of different school clubs to meet kids of different faiths: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam. I tried to find a common thread which linked them all and would explain what happened to me as a child. The metaphors of Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, the Taoist Yin and Yang—duality. Every religion seemed to speak about a way of being that would lead to a better place. In some cases that better place was a physical future existence, and in others it was merely being in contact with the perfection of nature or the present. Metaphorically, the teachings could explain what I had gone through in a kind of loose way, but there were no explicit statements about my condition.
***
I want to fast forward to why I've decided to write about this now. To give you an idea of where I'm at, I'm now 25 and working on finishing my MA in Computational Linguistics. I know that's a bit of a switch from what I was thinking when I was a teenager, but I really only interested in religion because of the value praying afforded me as a child. I didn't actually have much interest in the subject, itself. After my first year of college, I changed to an English major, which ultimately led to me taking a linguistics class and enjoying it so much that I switched tracks in my Junior year. Considering the state of the world, I thought minoring in Computer Science might help me financially in the future, so I ended up charting a path which I figured might lead to something like developing translation software.
Anyway, everything was going fine until a few weeks ago. I was out at an all-night diner with a few of my friends from the program. There was Jeremy, Martin, Bella, Jordan, and Macy. We had been working on a group project together involving modeling construction grammars by generating primitive 3D structures using C# and running the code through a game engine (it's a bit weird, but essentially we were trying to create a multidimensional model for language using a similar but more advanced concept than other LLMs), and just had a breakthrough. It was 2AM though and not a brain cell existed between the six of us, so instead we focused on a different problem: Macy's ongoing breakup with her semi-long distance trucker boyfriend. We tried to explain why Mike wasn't going to work out as we ordered a round of milkshakes and waited for the lone overnight kitchen worker to scoop out three balls of ice cream from the Deans carton for each of us, blend it, then have the server deliver the vintage diner glasses on a plastic tray.
I dug into my thick strawberry shake with a spoon. It was delicious. I kept eating but focused back on the conversation. I remember feeling something odd about one of the scoops, but I was so entrenched in Macy's story that I didn't notice the metal shard in my ice cream until I felt it against my lip. "P-tuh" I spat out the shard and ice cream all in one motion, then covered my mouth which I was sure was bleeding. The silver blade was probably as large as my thumb, and it had two jagged edges, as if it was fastened for the purpose of causing damage. "What the fuck!" I yelled.
Everyone at the table turned to see what was the matter. "Hey, Lauren, you okay?"
I spoke through a covered mouth, using my free hand to point at the table. "That was in my—"
But it was gone.
"In your… shake? Was something in your shake?" asked Jeremy.
I froze. In that moment, the stories of my childhood that I had only remembered as faint nightmares came back in a wave of crushing terror. How could I have been so stupid to think they would simply vanish forever? No, this isn't the same thing, I thought. But deep down, I knew it was. I drew my hand away from my lips and saw that it was dry—no blood. When I looked back up, all of the blood in my veins went cold. My friends were… smiling at me. Their lips were elastic like taffy, stretching to reveal their teeth. I could feel them radiating malevolence, as if the only thing holding them back from picking up their utensils and stabbing me to death was some thinly veiled force field. The moment lasted for what felt like half a minute, then Jordan said two words which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"Found you"
The words ricocheted in my now adrenaline powered skull. But just as he spoke them, the world blinked and my friends were back. Bella reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled away, but when I saw her concerned expression, I relented.
"Sorry, guys, I think I'm going to have to call it." I said.
"You sure, L?" asked Jordan. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah, thanks, but I just…" I stumbled for a lie, but when one wouldn't come, Martin stood up and said he'd walk me out to my car.
"Thanks," I said as I got into my little 2015 Jetta. "It's just been a long day."
"No problem, Lauren. You know, if there's ever anything—"
"I know," I said but didn't mean. Some things just couldn't be shared.
I drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gas station. I pulled in and parked near the back. Then I interlocked my fingers and prayed for half an hour. I apologized for not taking my praying seriously and asked to once again be granted peace. Unlike my younger years, I also drifted into other avenues of thought. I imagined my mom. I pictured the whole arc of my life, all of the little decisions that led me to where I was. I cried for a long time. I felt like that little girl again reaching out for help. I still felt so lost, so out of control; there were so many things missing, and I was so confused.
I decided then to take a trip back home and visit my dad who was now working as a private tutor. He made enough prepping affluent students for the ACT and SAT that he could spend his free time pursuing his real passions: reading and writing. When I arrived at his doorstep that weekend, he greeted me with open arms. "How are you, kiddo? It's been, what? A year or so?"
It was actually more like two years, but I didn't tell him. I just smiled and nodded.
"Well, come in."
The house was almost exactly how I remembered it. Linoleum floors, beige walls, a few scattered pictures, the scent of camomile. Everything minimalist. There was a quaintness, a prettiness to the way everything seemed to be well kept and in a perfect place. From the cherry wood chairs we'd sit in to eat, to the cream-colored loveseat. I felt at home.
I spent the drive thinking of what I would talk to my dad about, but ultimately I wasn't sure what I'd say. I loved my dad, but I think growing up it was easy to see him as naive. After all, arguably the most important episodes of my childhood were completely unknown to him. In that way, I kind of loved him from a distance. Maybe losing my mom also played into that. Maybe I just had trust issues. And after what happened at the diner… Luckily there hadn't been any blinks since.
I stayed for a couple days and he showed me around some of the different coffee shops where he'd tutor kids or write some of his stories. I met some of his friends, mostly other retired or part-time teachers who were in a similar place in life. I was happy for him. Then, on Sunday, he made me my favorite meal growing up: homemade carbonara pasta with chicken and broccoli. The sauce had a few different cheeses, butter, olive oil, and a raw egg yolk. It was the perfect blend of creamy, savory, and sweet. After we ate, he cracked open a scrapbook of some old photos and other clippings he had put together.
We reminisced about the past and laughed whenever I'd cover up one of my awkward pictures. He brought up some stories from school that I had forgotten, naming some teachers that I hadn't thought about in years. Apparently I had started at the end, because as I moved to the other end of the book, I kept getting younger and younger. I flipped to the last pages and noticed a couple pictures of my mom that made my heart sink.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" said my dad.
"Mmm," I agreed.
I flipped to the last page and saw a collage of newspaper clippings. One of them was related to the accident. It was headlined: "Two Survive Head-On Collision". After a cursory glance at the text, I noticed something odd. It said, "Both the husband and child, a three year old girl, sustained life-threatening wounds. The husband was found unconscious on the scene. The girl was found twenty meters away from the vehicle, crying." I swallowed, trying to remember back to what happened that day. The feeling of crashing, of the world slowing down, then breaking, returned. And then there was a hand. My dad's hand. Or was it? If he was unconscious, who pulled me out of that wreck?
I looked up at my dad. He was smiling.
I shot up and started backing up slowly toward the door. "No, not you, too. What is this? What's happening? Who are you?"
My dad, or whatever was controlling him, laughed."Oh, Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. You know who we are." he purred as he stood up. He lifted his hands and the lights began to flicker then bend in a way which shouldn't have been possible. Dark figures began to propagate from the shadows along the walls. The pictures nailed there began to blink out of existence. I turned to run toward the door but the handle was gone. Glass shards materialized all around me and swarmed like locusts. Certain I was going to die, I dropped down on my knees and once again turned to prayer, this time asking God to directly intervene and save me.
Everything went quiet.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
I didn't trust his voice. I knew if I opened my eyes, I'd see that awful smile. He was just toying with me. "It's not you," I said in between muttered prayers. "I know it's not you."
"Honey," my dad said, closer. I felt his arms wrap around me. This was it, I was going to be suffocated. I waited for the inevitable crushing weight of my chest collapsing. I waited to break all over again.
"I would never hurt you, Lauren. I love you more than anything in the whole world."
I burst out in tears. "No, it's not you, I know it's not you. You don't exist!"
My dad's weight dissipated. I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer there. "Dad?" I called aloud. "Dad? Where did you go?"
I checked all over the house, but there was no trace of him. There were still pictures of him all over the house, so I knew he hadn't blinked out of existence like everything else, but somehow he was missing.
***
I left the house and got a room at a hotel, where I am now. I'm sure at this point that whatever is happening to me is no longer random. Something out there is actively trying to hunt me. Maybe it has been my whole life, but only now it can see me—however weird that sounds. If that's right, then God has been on my side trying to protect me from this demon or monster or devil or whatever it is. Regardless, the methods I was using when I was younger are not going to cut it anymore. I already posted my story in several other small circles and have gotten one reply. A man who goes by the name "Trent" (apparently it's an alias). He said that he has some insight into my "condition" and can offer help if I want it. I'm planning on meeting with him tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but at this point I need answers. I can keep you updated with my progress if that interests you, and to anyone who knows anything about what's happening to me, please… I could really use your help.
***
I was just about to post this when Trent sent another message. This is what it says:
Trent: We can do the \*** at **** O'clock. Also, if what you're telling me is true, your mother may still be alive.*

When I was three years old I was in a really bad car accident. I didn't know it at the time, but that singular event would come to define everything about my life moving forward. What I remember about the accident is mostly a collage of backdated comments I was able to reel out of my father in the following years. He was driving me and my mom in his old '91 Chevy Tahoe through the twisting backroads of Southern Illinois, weaving his way through the gnarled branches of oak trees which interlocked into a braided ceiling overhead. A fog had rolled in, giving the impression that we were driving through a cloudy tube. Everything was simultaneously bright and opaque. I didn't mind though, as I was in the back seat working on a coloring book. My mom was in the front, talking with my dad or turning around to entertain my completed pictures.
Although I was of the age where my memory was just beginning to mature, I still recall two things very clearly from the accident. First was the sensation of breaking. I remember feeling the way a plate must feel to be dropped: weightless at first, then suddenly meeting a much larger, more solid object—the air popped like a firecracker, and the entirety of my body shattered into hundreds of fractals. And then I remember a hand. It was my dad's hand pulling me from the wreck.
I ended up hospitalized for weeks after the crash. My mom was less lucky. The impact had killed her instantly.
As I've alluded to, I was young, and at the time I didn't fully understand the implications of what had happened. I knew something was missing, but it was like a word on the tip of my tongue, or the forgotten vanilla in a cherished cake recipe—coloring my experience, but not the whole of it. Not like my dad. For him, it was the whole fucking cake. He had somehow made it out with only a few scratches. I'm sure he had a really bad case of survivor's guilt, and frankly, looking back, I wouldn't have blamed him if he slumped into despair and spent his days drinking away his sorrow. But he wasn't that type of man. He got help. It took him years before he was able to recall anything that happened that morning, and most of it is still repressed, but he shared with me what he could. Or at least that's what I had thought.
My dad was a Middle School teacher since before I was born, and he kept his job until very recently. As a result, we didn't have much by way of resources. I grew up on Disney Channel and TV dinners for the most part, but I didn't mind. When I became of school age, his job actually made caring for me pretty convenient. Since our Elementary and Middle schools were connected, he was able to drive me there and back each day.
It was around third or fourth grade that I realized I was different. I didn't understand the other children or even the adults most of the time. They would say things then immediately change their mind, or they would talk about something and in the next breath forget its existence entirely. I remember one day at lunch, I had just gotten my tray of hot food and sat down with some friends. One of the kids, Alex, was talking about a stuffed bird he had won for getting first place in Mr. Curtis's pop-up math competition. We were all admiring its blue wings and white belly and sharp black beak and beady eyes. I left mid-conversation to get a chocolate milk. When I came back, I asked to see the bird again, and Alex said "what bird?" I was perplexed. "The bird—the bluejay you were just showing us." I remember all of the other kids looking at me like I was crazy. I figured they were all playing a trick on me, so I got up and went over to Alex's seat and crouched down, looking under the table, then I sprung up and tried to open his lunchbox. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. I felt so confused and embarrassed that I ran to the bathroom to cry.
And then there was another time a group of kids were laughing about a joke one of the girls, Taylor, had made about our homeroom teacher's face looking like a seal. I knew it was mean, but at the time I just wanted to fit in so I played along, but when I made a comment about her resemblance to the semi-aquatic animal, they all looked at me confused. "What are you talking about? We never said that…"
These misattributions kept happening, and it led to me being ostracized from most of the little childish cliques that popped up. I developed a quasi-standoffish temperament which I used as a shield against a chaotic world that I didn't understand. My dad eventually had me tested for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), but I passed the test. He asked if I wanted to move to a different town with different schoolmates, thinking that perhaps I was getting bullied, but I told him it was fine. Somewhere deep down I felt like no matter where I went, this problem would follow me.
You may think that I was simply coping with the absence of my mom, and while I'm sure that her absence has left certain holes in my life, kindly, no, that wasn't what was happening. You see, at first I didn't notice the instances of what I'll call "blinking". I simply thought that I was misremembering things: objects, words, events. They were all little things anyway. A bird, a joke, my pencil box. It wasn't until sixth grade that I realized the magnitude of the phenomenon.
I was in my dad's 6th grade Social Studies class and we had just been assigned our "Ancient Civilizations" project which involved creating a diorama of our chosen civilization and presenting its features to the class. My friend at the time, Claire, had taken my first choice of Ancient Rome (which we had a heated argument about at lunch), so I was left with Ancient Egypt. At the time, all I pictured for Egypt was a plate of sand. However, my dad and I went through some illustrated history books and pictures on the internet and he really built up the project for me.
Over the course of a couple months, he helped me shape three pyramids out of small wooden planks and a bunch of tan clay. We placed them in the center of a giant square shoebox lid which served as the container for the diorama. Then he bought some small wooden mannequin puppets and we dressed them up in cloth clothes (mostly kilts and tunics) and colored their eyes, mouths, and hair. We added a few obelisks and some small box-huts which were collected into a little village around the Nile. Finally, we added a light glaze of glue where we felt would be necessary and then covered the whole project with golden glitter.
As we worked on each part of the diorama, my dad helped me understand what we were adding and why it was important to Ancient Egypt. I loved the way he talked about history. He spun everything into a miraculous story. To this day, I don't think I've ever had a teacher who came close to his level of charisma and creativity. As a result, I became really proud of my diorama. I memorized all the little details and rehearsed my speech in front of the mirror for hours leading up to the last couple weeks of class. And then, two days before I was supposed to give my presentation, everything fell apart.
First, I need to apologize for deceiving you about an aspect of my story. I thought it might help you to understand what I was going through at the time. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. I get that. But please hear me out. The truth is that I was never assigned to present on Ancient Egypt; everything else about Clair taking my first pick and dad helping me with the whole project and my excitement leading up to the presentation was all true, but it wasn't a project on Ancient Egypt, it was a project on Ancient Sidovan, which was a civilization located on the eighth continent called "Catalan" (the same name as the spoken language, but unrelated) which was due West of Australia in the Indian Ocean.
I know this sounds incredible, and if you want to believe it's all in my head, I get that, but I remember clearly all sorts of facts about it: the Malagasy, the same people who populated Madagascar, were the first peoples to discover Catalan and settle it. However, about five hundred years later, Indian ships would arrive and create the civilization known as Sidovan. A pidgin language formed between the indigenous population and new arriving Indians called "Hiesa" (pronounced: Hai-E-suh or Hai-ʔ-suh). Catalan had a warm climate with plenty of natural resources, but Sidovan had a dense enough population to require agricultural production. They grew rice, grain, sugarcane, vegetables, and even tobacco.
I remembered all of these facts and more. My diorama reflected the main features of the Sidovan civilization. And then two days before my presentation, I woke up and my diorama was entirely different. The hilly grasslands were traded out for sandy dunes. The Hindu statues and stone palaces became clay pyramids and large spear-like pillars. And everything was covered with the ickiest yellow glitter I had ever seen. Tears stung my eyes as I trampled over to my dad's room and banged on his door. "Dad! What did you do!?" I yelled.
"Honey?" He responded, rushing over to the base of the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"The diorama. It's ruined!"
"It's what?" he asked and ran up the stairs, leading me to my room. He looked over it for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was intact, then said, "I don't see it, honey. Where is it ruined?"
I was completely dumb-struck. What did he mean he didn't see it? "All of it!" I shouted. "The whole thing is wrong. Where's the grass and the stone buildings and the lady with the four arms and the elephants? Where is my project!?"
My dad looked at me in silence. "Lauren, baby, what civilization do you think you were working on?"
"Ancient Sidovan, of course! We've been working on this for months now! Dad, please tell me you remember."
He knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders. "Honey, your project was on Ancient Egypt. There is no Ancient Sidovan."
"Y-you're lying." I protested. "Books, you have books. On your bookshelf."
He took me into his study and showed me all of his books. None of them were on Ancient Sidovan. He even turned on his computer and typed in the name of the civilization, but all that came up was a near match "Sidon". I remember feeling the sudden urge to puke. My entire body felt like it was pumping battery acid instead of blood. "I—I don't," I started but suddenly my head felt very light, and I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had lost consciousness for over half an hour, enough time for my dad to call 9-1-1 and have the ambulance transport me to the nearest ER. They ran all sorts of tests on me, but they all came back fine. After a couple hours of IV fluids and monitoring, they released me with my dad.
I ended up skipping the rest of school that week. My dad didn't make me present my diorama. In fact, he never brought the subject up again. Part of me was glad. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. But another part of me couldn't move past what was clearly the most absurd thing to ever happen to me. About a week after the incident, I tried to broach the subject, but when I asked my dad about it, he didn't seem to remember our conversation at all. He said I had fallen ill and that's why I needed to go to the ER and miss class. I felt like I was going crazy. If I was older, I probably would have voluntarily checked myself into a psychiatric ward. But I was young and helpless and alone, and I decided that if I just ignored the changes well enough, I could still get along. This proved difficult though, as the blinking would only exacerbate in the coming months.
Up until the time of the project, I hadn't been able to directly observe the phenomenon. It was always in retrospect that things disappeared. It was during the summer after sixth grade that this changed. I still remember the first time it happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in front of the mirror. After it was dried, I threw on my clothes then went to tie my hair up in a ponytail, but as I went to set the elastic tie, I felt its weight dissipate in my hand. I gasped and held my hand out. The circular black band was gone.
Fast forward to seventh grade and the blinking had spiraled out of control. Reflecting back on it, most people would probably have assumed I was drinking psilocybin-infused water, as the delusions were somewhat consistent with psychedelic phenomena: except these distortions were real (at least they felt that way to me).
I'd wake up and grab the box of Special K but end up eating Cheerios. The McDonalds logo would look yellow and red one day, but purple and black the next. I'd be watching a show, and then a different show, and then a different one. It was as if the entire universe was a Christmas tree with millions of lights, and the lights kept shifting hues randomly, faster and faster, and I was the only one who could see their changing colors. I remember one night my dad made spaghetti for dinner and we went out onto the porch to eat it. While we were sitting, I saw our neighbor's house, a two story townhome, blink and become a single story bungalow. I gasped, and my dad asked what was wrong, but when I tried to explain he just gave me a strange look. For him, no matter what changed, the world was "always that way". While for me, it didn't have "a way".
The situation peaked when Clair, that friend I mentioned before, disappeared. I texted her (my dad had bought me a BlackBerry at the beginning of summer break) but didn't get a response. When I asked her other friends if they knew where she was, I got the usual "what are you talking about?" look. I knew right away what had happened, even though I didn't want to believe it. I went to the teacher and asked if there was a Clair in our class. She said "no". I broke down in front of everyone. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out of school. The lady at the front desk tried to stop me, but I just barrelled past her. I kept running until I got to a big park across the street and bawled my eyes out until the police arrived and escorted me home. When they tried asking me what was wrong, I didn't say anything. There was literally nothing I could say that they would understand.
That night I prayed to God for the first time. My dad wasn't a religious man. He went to Catholic church with my mom when she was alive, but after she died he never went back. Still, I knew how to pray, even if I never did it. I copied some of the people I saw praying in movies and interlocked my fingers and knelt down on my bed, stuffing my head into a pillow. "Dear God," I said, "Please, please, please help me." I told Him about my struggles and asked Him to make them stop. I spent an hour saying the same things over and over again. And when I was finished, my little body was so tired, I fell right to sleep.
I knew something was different the second I opened my eyelids. I didn't only feel relieved, but I felt… embraced. I felt like someone was watching over me. I felt like I wasn't alone. I moved through my day with cautious apprehension. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down. But to my surprise, the blinking had stopped. At least I couldn't remember any of the inconsistencies, and to me, that was a win. I began to pray regularly, and the more I did, the more I could feel the sense that someone was looking out for me. It was like I was getting a big hug from some cosmic force that loved me and wanted me to be happy.
I made it a habit to pray regularly. I asked my dad if he could take me to a church, and he agreed to take me to St. Mark's, the same church that he and my mom used to attend. Over time, I realized that the actual church services weren't as important to me as the praying. For whatever reason, there was something about praying that was like a glue for my brain, holding the entire universe together. As I got older, I considered that maybe it wasn't that the changes were no longer happening, but that I simply didn't see them anymore. In other words, maybe I was just becoming like everyone else. Either way, I didn't mind.
In my teenage years, I got into mindfulness meditation. I thought that I'd want to go into religious studies and become a theologian, so I started to learn about Eastern traditions in addition to Christianity. I joined a bunch of different school clubs to meet kids of different faiths: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam. I tried to find a common thread which linked them all and would explain what happened to me as a child. The metaphors of Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, the Taoist Yin and Yang—duality. Every religion seemed to speak about a way of being that would lead to a better place. In some cases that better place was a physical future existence, and in others it was merely being in contact with the perfection of nature or the present. Metaphorically, the teachings could explain what I had gone through in a kind of loose way, but there were no explicit statements about my condition.
***
I want to fast forward to why I've decided to write about this now. To give you an idea of where I'm at, I'm now 25 and working on finishing my MA in Computational Linguistics. I know that's a bit of a switch from what I was thinking when I was a teenager, but I really only interested in religion because of the value praying afforded me as a child. I didn't actually have much interest in the subject, itself. After my first year of college, I changed to an English major, which ultimately led to me taking a linguistics class and enjoying it so much that I switched tracks in my Junior year. Considering the state of the world, I thought minoring in Computer Science might help me financially in the future, so I ended up charting a path which I figured might lead to something like developing translation software.
Anyway, everything was going fine until a few weeks ago. I was out at an all-night diner with a few of my friends from the program. There was Jeremy, Martin, Bella, Jordan, and Macy. We had been working on a group project together involving modeling construction grammars by generating primitive 3D structures using C# and running the code through a game engine (it's a bit weird, but essentially we were trying to create a multidimensional model for language using a similar but more advanced concept than other LLMs), and just had a breakthrough. It was 2AM though and not a brain cell existed between the six of us, so instead we focused on a different problem: Macy's ongoing breakup with her semi-long distance trucker boyfriend. We tried to explain why Mike wasn't going to work out as we ordered a round of milkshakes and waited for the lone overnight kitchen worker to scoop out three balls of ice cream from the Deans carton for each of us, blend it, then have the server deliver the vintage diner glasses on a plastic tray.
I dug into my thick strawberry shake with a spoon. It was delicious. I kept eating but focused back on the conversation. I remember feeling something odd about one of the scoops, but I was so entrenched in Macy's story that I didn't notice the metal shard in my ice cream until I felt it against my lip. "P-tuh" I spat out the shard and ice cream all in one motion, then covered my mouth which I was sure was bleeding. The silver blade was probably as large as my thumb, and it had two jagged edges, as if it was fastened for the purpose of causing damage. "What the fuck!" I yelled.
Everyone at the table turned to see what was the matter. "Hey, Lauren, you okay?"
I spoke through a covered mouth, using my free hand to point at the table. "That was in my—"
But it was gone.
"In your… shake? Was something in your shake?" asked Jeremy.
I froze. In that moment, the stories of my childhood that I had only remembered as faint nightmares came back in a wave of crushing terror. How could I have been so stupid to think they would simply vanish forever? No, this isn't the same thing, I thought. But deep down, I knew it was. I drew my hand away from my lips and saw that it was dry—no blood. When I looked back up, all of the blood in my veins went cold. My friends were… smiling at me. Their lips were elastic like taffy, stretching to reveal their teeth. I could feel them radiating malevolence, as if the only thing holding them back from picking up their utensils and stabbing me to death was some thinly veiled force field. The moment lasted for what felt like half a minute, then Jordan said two words which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"Found you"
The words ricocheted in my now adrenaline powered skull. But just as he spoke them, the world blinked and my friends were back. Bella reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled away, but when I saw her concerned expression, I relented.
"Sorry, guys, I think I'm going to have to call it." I said.
"You sure, L?" asked Jordan. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah, thanks, but I just…" I stumbled for a lie, but when one wouldn't come, Martin stood up and said he'd walk me out to my car.
"Thanks," I said as I got into my little 2015 Jetta. "It's just been a long day."
"No problem, Lauren. You know, if there's ever anything—"
"I know," I said but didn't mean. Some things just couldn't be shared.
I drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gas station. I pulled in and parked near the back. Then I interlocked my fingers and prayed for half an hour. I apologized for not taking my praying seriously and asked to once again be granted peace. Unlike my younger years, I also drifted into other avenues of thought. I imagined my mom. I pictured the whole arc of my life, all of the little decisions that led me to where I was. I cried for a long time. I felt like that little girl again reaching out for help. I still felt so lost, so out of control; there were so many things missing, and I was so confused.
I decided then to take a trip back home and visit my dad who was now working as a private tutor. He made enough prepping affluent students for the ACT and SAT that he could spend his free time pursuing his real passions: reading and writing. When I arrived at his doorstep that weekend, he greeted me with open arms. "How are you, kiddo? It's been, what? A year or so?"
It was actually more like two years, but I didn't tell him. I just smiled and nodded.
"Well, come in."
The house was almost exactly how I remembered it. Linoleum floors, beige walls, a few scattered pictures, the scent of camomile. Everything minimalist. There was a quaintness, a prettiness to the way everything seemed to be well kept and in a perfect place. From the cherry wood chairs we'd sit in to eat, to the cream-colored loveseat. I felt at home.
I spent the drive thinking of what I would talk to my dad about, but ultimately I wasn't sure what I'd say. I loved my dad, but I think growing up it was easy to see him as naive. After all, arguably the most important episodes of my childhood were completely unknown to him. In that way, I kind of loved him from a distance. Maybe losing my mom also played into that. Maybe I just had trust issues. And after what happened at the diner… Luckily there hadn't been any blinks since.
I stayed for a couple days and he showed me around some of the different coffee shops where he'd tutor kids or write some of his stories. I met some of his friends, mostly other retired or part-time teachers who were in a similar place in life. I was happy for him. Then, on Sunday, he made me my favorite meal growing up: homemade carbonara pasta with chicken and broccoli. The sauce had a few different cheeses, butter, olive oil, and a raw egg yolk. It was the perfect blend of creamy, savory, and sweet. After we ate, he cracked open a scrapbook of some old photos and other clippings he had put together.
We reminisced about the past and laughed whenever I'd cover up one of my awkward pictures. He brought up some stories from school that I had forgotten, naming some teachers that I hadn't thought about in years. Apparently I had started at the end, because as I moved to the other end of the book, I kept getting younger and younger. I flipped to the last pages and noticed a couple pictures of my mom that made my heart sink.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" said my dad.
"Mmm," I agreed.
I flipped to the last page and saw a collage of newspaper clippings. One of them was related to the accident. It was headlined: "Two Survive Head-On Collision". After a cursory glance at the text, I noticed something odd. It said, "Both the husband and child, a three year old girl, sustained life-threatening wounds. The husband was found unconscious on the scene. The girl was found twenty meters away from the vehicle, crying." I swallowed, trying to remember back to what happened that day. The feeling of crashing, of the world slowing down, then breaking, returned. And then there was a hand. My dad's hand. Or was it? If he was unconscious, who pulled me out of that wreck?
I looked up at my dad. He was smiling.
I shot up and started backing up slowly toward the door. "No, not you, too. What is this? What's happening? Who are you?"
My dad, or whatever was controlling him, laughed."Oh, Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. You know who we are." he purred as he stood up. He lifted his hands and the lights began to flicker then bend in a way which shouldn't have been possible. Dark figures began to propagate from the shadows along the walls. The pictures nailed there began to blink out of existence. I turned to run toward the door but the handle was gone. Glass shards materialized all around me and swarmed like locusts. Certain I was going to die, I dropped down on my knees and once again turned to prayer, this time asking God to directly intervene and save me.
Everything went quiet.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
I didn't trust his voice. I knew if I opened my eyes, I'd see that awful smile. He was just toying with me. "It's not you," I said in between muttered prayers. "I know it's not you."
"Honey," my dad said, closer. I felt his arms wrap around me. This was it, I was going to be suffocated. I waited for the inevitable crushing weight of my chest collapsing. I waited to break all over again.
"I would never hurt you, Lauren. I love you more than anything in the whole world."
I burst out in tears. "No, it's not you, I know it's not you. You don't exist!"
My dad's weight dissipated. I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer there. "Dad?" I called aloud. "Dad? Where did you go?"
I checked all over the house, but there was no trace of him. There were still pictures of him all over the house, so I knew he hadn't blinked out of existence like everything else, but somehow he was missing.
***
I left the house and got a room at a hotel, where I am now. I'm sure at this point that whatever is happening to me is no longer random. Something out there is actively trying to hunt me. Maybe it has been my whole life, but only now it can see me—however weird that sounds. If that's right, then God has been on my side trying to protect me from this demon or monster or devil or whatever it is. Regardless, the methods I was using when I was younger are not going to cut it anymore. I already posted my story in several other small circles and have gotten one reply. A man who goes by the name "Trent" (apparently it's an alias). He said that he has some insight into my "condition" and can offer help if I want it. I'm planning on meeting with him tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but at this point I need answers. I can keep you updated with my progress if that interests you, and to anyone who knows anything about what's happening to me, please… I could really use your help.
***
I was just about to post this when Trent sent another message. This is what it says:
Trent: We can do the \*** at **** O'clock. Also, if what you're telling me is true, your mother may still be alive.*

Chocolate chip cookies came to be a beloved baked good purely by accident. In 1938, Ruth Wakefield was managing the Toll House Inn with her husband Kenneth ran in Whitman, Massachusetts.
Now she has a special cookie recipe that was called Butter Drop Do, and it required crumbled bakers' chocolate. However, she ran out if this chocolate, so as a substitute she used chopped Nestle semi-sweet chocolate bar with hopes that it would melt and mic into the batter.
That's what she wanted but instead they pieces retained their shape and were baked into the cookies that way, leading to the creation of the first batch of chocolate chip cookies. They soon gained popularity as Toll House Chocolate Crunch Cookies and, much like Barbie, have been evolving to be a taste for everyone for years to come
So tell me, what's your favorite kind of cookie? 😊🍪