I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/This_Musician7165 posting in TwoHotTakes
User account has since been deleted
Concluded as per OOP
2 updates - Medium
Original - 15th January 2024
Update in a comment - 16th January 2024
Final Update (Link no longer accessible)- 16th January 2024
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My Step Dad purposefully ruined my $900 prom dress by washing it! Is there anything I can do such as take legal?
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Edit: Sorry for some reason Reddit took my original post down. This is my first time using Reddit
’ve never posted on here, but I really need advice because I’m so distraught and have no clue what I should do I’m only 17 and don’t know if there’s any legal action I can take. So for a little background I live with my bio mom and her husband since my dad and mom separated and were never married. I originally lived with my dad since I was 2 he won custody during the custody battle. However he later lost custody of me after having a bad work accident that made him paralysed and he wouldn’t be able to take care of me but I still see him every weekend and the whole summer. I moved in with my mom and her husband and their two sons ,1 stepbrother and 1 half brother, when I was 10. And ever since then my stepdad basically directly and indirectly says that I’ve disrupted their lives by coming back into my mother’s life, because I’m an extra person they have to take care of.
I’ve been working since I was in 10th grade and saving up for my senior yeacollege since last year with the money from my job since my mom and her husband let me know that only my mom would only help me with the basics such as my graduation cap and gown, senior dues, and senior class photo. Anything else I would have to pay for myself such as prom.
I get paid about $400 every two weeks from my job which Ive been saving in full, and then making extra money doing nails about $100 a week plus tip which I use as my spending money. Since it’s my senior and last year of high school I’ve been wanting to go all out for prom so I set a $800 budget for my prom dress. My prom is in April and I wanted to get my prom dress early since most of the actual cute ones sell out quick. So I went prom dress shopping in December and found a beautiful dress that’s costed $890. It’s dark green with a long train with rhinestone imbedded into it with glitter in the dress.
When I first showed my mom and stepdad the dress they asked how much it was, which I told them the amount and my mom said that she wouldn’t be paying for a dress that expensive which I replied it’s okay because I have more than enough money saved up to buy it, and I’ll still have a lot of money left over (23k to be exact but only my mom knows that) mom said I could get the dress and that it was very pretty, however my stepdad said that it’s irresponsible and a waste of money and I should use it for better things like helping out the family and paying some of the bills. And get a dress cheaper that’s max $300. Mind you both his son’s own PS5 and multiple $200+ shoes.
Long story short my mom disagreed with him and I ended up getting the dress in the end and she even put $150 toward it.
However ever since then he constantly brings up that I help pay for things around the house since I have so much money to throw away but my mom always shuts it down saying that I work hard for my money to save it and I already help about with paying the Netflix, Amazon prime, and Hulu bills while my step brother (18) don’t pay anything.
Anyway last Saturday we got into a really big disagreement because my stepdad suggested I should help my step brother pay for his prom to which I responded with no. He later called me selfish and said that it’s not fair that I get an expensive outfit while he doesn’t. And I guess I said with in a snarky way I responded with that’s not my child or my problem. He later tried to complain to my mom and she said that I was right and that if anything he should pay for his own prom.
Well today when I woke up from a nap I noticed my prom dress was missing from my closet since it’s in the very front of my closet and looked around for it. I then asked my stepdad if he has seen it since my mother was at work. And he said he had, and in fact he was washing it, while giving me a condescending smile. I immediately ran downstairs and saw my dress being washed on the heavy duty cycle I immediately cancel it and it was ruined. Majority of my rhinestones came out and the glitter was washed out the whole dress had been mangled.
I took one look at it and then threw it a trash bag and left for my friends house with the dress. I texted my mom and sent her pictures but I’m currently at my friends house and laying on her bed. My friends parent hanged it outside to allow it to air dry so my stepdad can’t put the blame on them if the dried it in the dryer. What makes me know he did to spite me because he never washes clothes, cooks or anything since “he’s the man of the house so he shouldn’t have to”, so there was no viable reason he could have for washing it, even if it needed washing.
Is there anything I can do? I know neither of them can replace being they are tough financial situation? I’ll update you guys when mom gets home. So far my stepdad has called 2x but I haven’t answered him. And my mom’s at work and can’t receive calls.
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Comments
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Fancy_Association484
My heart hurts for you. Get him to admit it over text then file small claims court.

OOP: He’s not gonna admit I don’t think imma try to get audio but we also have cameras with audio imma try and use them when my mom gets off

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Rhodin265
I didn’t see this suggested, but since you’re paying for the streaming services, change your passwords and log out all devices. Giant toddlers don’t get their tanties rewarded with their stepkid’s Netflix.
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Fromashination
It would be a dastardly shame if Step Dad's favorite shoes were accidentally left on the porch in the snow all night.
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Update - 1 day later
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Edit 1:I don't know how to add updates so imma just add an edit but my mom and me just got off the phone and she's pissed and otw home. She's currently otw home so me and my friend and her dad are otw to my house and my mom said she was gonna call the cops as soon as she get off the phone so they may be there by the time I get there. We've taken pictures and the uncle (my mom brother) will be over there by 8 bc I contacted him while at work. I've listened to all your suggestions about withdrawing my money out of my account so I thinking and I talked to my dad about that as well and told me I can stay with him
Edit/Update 2:When I got home my friend stayed in the car while her dad walked me in, and my step dad was already gone. However police were at the house. As of now police said they can’t really arrest him because it’s not like he broke the law of stealing (I don’t know how to explain it basically this theft isn’t breaking the law bc he washed it and didn’t keep it) they suggested I can get a confession and get him to pay or take him to small claims court. Also the dress is non refundable if damaged so I can’t return it or anything. While explaining to my mom what happened I kinda fumbled my words and started crying and she hugged me as I cried. And she said that he’s gonna pay for this, this financial issue has actually been a on going disagreement and I think he just pulled the last straw bc she is PISSED. Also I talked to my uncle and he’s actually off work and over his way over here.
Him and my stepdad apparently have a rough history since my dad has had a smart mouth towards him in the past. While explaining to my uncle what happened he said that it would be alright and if anything he’ll buy back the dress before it sells out, so I’ll have my dress by prom but he does expect my step dad to pay me back one way or another so I’m basically probably gonna get my dress for free. Maybe that’s a little win. I’ll update more probably later tonight. But things seem to be good.
Edit: Also to clear up some confusion I pay the streaming service bills bc I really want to watch the shows on those services and my mom works hard but doesn’t make enough to have those services on top so I’ve offer to pay them so we could have them. She not a horrible “I’ll pick my husband over you” mother and she always defend me and he’s never pulled a stunt like this just tries to convince her to control my money and savings. And she’s never spent my saving either. I feel like thats why they always clash because he has a mindset of we have all these financial troubles and your daughter could solve them with her savings and you have access to them.
Edit/Update 4: Okay so my uncle came over and he and my mom had a little argument bc he blamed her for enabling my stepdads behaviour by not leaving him and thats why he felt comfortable to do what he did. And she argued back saying she always defended me against him and has never taken any of my money (which is true). We all talked about it a bit and she revealed that last night they had actually had a argument about paying off a car payment because she made a comment about how all these bills are taking a toll on her, and he made a comment about how it wouldn’t be that much of a toll if she used my savings and didn’t allow me to spend it on foolishness and she got mad and defensive bc he keeps bringing it up.
He also said that the $900 I spent could’ve payed off that car payment for the next 2 months. Btw he only know about my savings because he know how’s much I get paid and that I’ve been saving all of it. So we think that’s what triggered him to throw my dress in the washer.
My mom and stepdad has also been texting back and fourth and he admitted that he washed it to teach me a lesson that I shouldn’t spend that much money on a dress that can be destroyed that easily but he put the setting on heavy duty so he obviously intended to destroy it. My uncle has also offered to replace the dress so I don’t need to worry about not getting to wear my special dress. We called the boutique and explained it to them and they say they can order another dress although it won’t be there until Feb 23 which fine tbh.
My mother sent my step dad a long threatening message basically calling him out shes kinda heated rn so imma try and ask for a screenshot later. Her and my father also spoke and decided that it’d be best that I get my own bank account so that my step dad can’t use the excuse that she has access to my account so that’s also great. My mom and I had a talk about what gonna happen after this and she said shes not sure as of just yet bc it’s all a little too much for her bc she seriously contemplating leaving him, but i guess she don’t wanna actively discuss that right now. Also my stepdad is currently at a friends house. I’ll continue to update possibly may get one tomorrow. My friends parent are gonna keep the dress over their house and imma pick it up tomorrow to have as proof.
Edit:I apologise for not being to update since Reddit took down my post because of a “no walls text rule” that I was unaware of but it’s all good now
Edit/Update 5: My uncle has transferred me $1000 for my prom dress and I’m actually planning on using the money for replace the dress and buy new shoes. He’s very well off, which was one reason I contacted him in the first place.
So I plan on just calling the boutique and seeing if they can reorder it and I’ll just pick it up from there sometime in February. However my step-dad still must pay in some form, or at least we are trying to get him to. My uncle has called my other uncles and aunts (with my permission) to basically vent about the situation.
So majority of my mom side who all live in GA knows about what happened. I woke up to a lot of text about the situation given sympathy, as well as money to have for prom which have totalled to about $300. So this is great. My mom has also contacted my step-in-laws who then spread the news with pictures and I guess most of them are shocked as well other than his mother his is buying his claim that it’s just a dress and it was a accident despite evidence. I got a call from my step-dad sister sympathising for me.
And through conversations with I learned that my step-dad has also been asking a lot of his family to help him with his finances. Because for some reason the dude has bought so many things to pay off he can’t keep up with them.
My mom called my step-dad for answers which we recorded. And he’s basically trying to blame her bc if she didn’t piss him off last night then he wouldn’t have done it. And that he was trying to show me why I shouldn’t be irresponsible with money bc I guess he planned to lecture afterwards.
Also my mom has broken up with him bc he blamed her for caring more about me than him, which is weird. Which ensured in a argument with her saying “you think i care about her more than you, your gonna see just how much I do”
Also they’ve been on a rocky relationship since he can’t manage money and this was her breaking point.
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Comments
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TaffyAppl
Just saw this update!! Now that you have the text, please show the police as confession as destruction of property and/or take him to court to pay for it. It’s not fair to your uncle. Once you get your step dad to pay up, you can pay your uncle back. Girl Good luck!
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sherbear97124
What your step-dad did is called malicious mischief and is a crime. With the confessions and proof, there probably is a case. Just know that because of the monetary value, it's most likely just a misdemeanor charge. Regardless, you definitely have a small claims case against him. Sadly, by the sounds of his financial affairs, you'll be lucky if he ever pays, but it's still worth pursuing. Good luck!
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Update - same day later
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Edit/Update 6: Sorry to post on here Reddit keep telling me to try again later so sorry again
Okay so a lot of bs has transpired. Firstly we’ve place an order for my dress, and they are shipping it now and it should be at the boutique by Feb 23 so all that is taken care of. My SD and mom are officially broken up and my mom said she doesn’t now if she’ll move on with divorce proceedings yet bc everything is still fresh and lawyer are expensive and she can’t afford it rn.
Also they have a prenup so they don’t share assent and the house is my mother dad house she inherited (she had a different dad than all her siblings and all her siblings share a dad).
So my step father showed back up with his brother after a while and my step father decided to do and buy me a new dress from Macy that looks similar to dress in color and length but it’s very tacky and ugly. And look nothing like the original.
He then tried to apologise and said it wasn’t his intention to ruin the dress. he said that he was simply gonna wash it and say “see this is why you don’t buy things like this” and then he would’ve bought me another dress…. But that’s make absolutely no sense.
Also my uncle came back to my house after I texted him my step dad came back (he was at the store) and they got into a big argument where basically my uncle demanded to know why he destroyed the dress
And my step dad said he not gonna walk up in his house demanding shit, and my uncle called him a bitch. And then my SD said to call him a bitch again which he did and they ended up fighting. (My SD lost) he threatened to call the cops but we reminded him that he swung first
After that my step dad went on a tirade and cussed us out and left and took the dress with him.
We are actually planning on taking y’all advice and taking him to small claims court given the evidence and the damage. And hopefully we win. Also my SD is staying at his parents house currently.
Lastly for all curious about my brothers they are 15 (half) and 18 (step) .The 15 was at his girlfriend house since Friday so he wasn’t home for any of the commotion but did reach out to me today, I love him so much. And the 18 year basically sided with his dad so that all there is to say.
Also those who suggested changing the streaming’s passwords I have change them. And me and my mom are gonna get me my own bank account later today. Thank you guys for all the support I’ll continue to update as thing come and our plans of action and the verdict and all
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Comments
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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

Injustice is intolerable to the human. By his nature, Prince Regen disobeyed his father, Lord Sard, who was master of exports on Astragoth, second in power only to the planetary minister, the emperor's own nephew Anj Kurim. Perhaps how Prince Regen became son to Anj Kurim is a tale too bold to ever be repeated, for it dares the instinct of man to do right or wrong, the hearts of the young to fall in love from mere eye contact and the honor of the knights who braved the arena on the tournament of Easter. A tale too bold, but I'd go mad to keep it all to myself:
The lords in question were the three barons of slag on Astragoth who commanded the planetary production of mech armor alloys, Astragoth's most valuable export. The types are well known, Bronze-Steel, Silver-Steel and Gold-Steel, although none of those alloys contain any such metals, they are named poetically, rather than literally. Lord Sard grew quite suspicious of them, or perhaps jealous. He had them summoned, stripped, beaten and arrested, accusing them of crimes against his office. His next order of business was to have their estates seized.
Normally such a moment would be conducted honorably through a Trial of Combat, but since these men were severe mech knights, Lord Sard chose caution over honor. His son was not such a coward, and witnessing the atrocity, he fought his way into the holding compound in light armor without markings, but only so the guards would not die withholding their attacks. Regen considered dying honorably to be more important than shielding himself with his identity. When he had rescued the three lords, he did turn himself in, for he took responsibility for his actions.
Lord Sard was furious and had his son exiled. Regen was sent into the frontiers of Astragoth with only his fine robes, a horse, some supplies and a servant named Igor. Igor was quite corrupt, and when they were out in the wilderness he shot Regen in the back of his head when the prince was bathing in a stream, and left him there face down in the water, believing he had killed him. Letting nothing go to waste, Igor took everything, the clothes, supplies, horse and even the prince's identity, managing to assume the prince's identity.
Regen was not dead. By a miracle he'd survived, and the gunshot attracted a retired combat medic who fought in the Scratch Wars and had seen much worse than a naked, drowned man with a gunshot wound in his head. She easily patched him up, rolling the cosmic dice with critical precision. It was not enough for Regen to have his memory intact, as he had severe amnesia.
By instinct he was still very honorable and brave, and pleased with this, he was made apprentice to the one who'd saved his life. She taught him how to care for the kinds of injuries the locals came to her with, and in time he grew wise in the ways of medicine and he worked hard, volunteering to help anyone who needed his strength.
One day he came to the main star port of Astragoth, travelling in the world and seeking his fortune. The daughter of Anj Kurim, Lili, was getting married soon. The whole city was in a state of celebration and three days of games were declared, in which mech knights would duel for the honor of Princess Lili's favor. No mech knight who wasn't willing to risk death would dare step into a close-range combat in the Phoenix Dome, as the impressive arena of Astragoth was called then.
Regen put his only coin into the coffer of the richest man on the planet and bought a ticket to the games. The likelihood that he'd be seated so that Princess Lili could not take her eyes off of him was only the whim of such stars. She'd seen him there and something was different about this man than any she'd ever seen. Some part of her had sailed through the ethers at the dawn of time, and he was her other half, torn from her when she was born as a human on Astragoth. That's how the Princess described the feeling.
Regen glanced across the crowd and met her gaze. He felt like his world began that day, at that moment, as though suddenly every detail of his life became relevant. It was all so he'd be at ~Bed, Bath and Beyond~, right there in the Phoenix Dome as an eight-meter-tall fusion-powered battle armor mech walked out the gates spraying steam at thirteen hundred degrees Celsius from its flamers.
The opposite gate opened but there was no other mech. A weird silence fell over the crowd. It wasn't uncommon for someone to forfeit, anything could go wrong. There was a challenge issued, not as though any unexpected contestants ever answered it. Yet this time a mech in full bronze-alloy armor did enter Phoenix Dome. Nobody knew who it was, and when the newcomer won the battle, they left without claiming the victory.
On the second day, the new husband of the Princess Lili was revealed, and the games would be in his honor as well. He was Prince Regen, except it was really Igor, having assumed Prince Regen's identity. When the combatants were about to fight a third mech entered the arena, this time in silver-alloy armor. He fought both enemies at once and defeated them. Again, before claiming the victory, the mech knight left the arena.
Lord Anj Kurim had a battalion of mech painted in white and decorated with garlands surrounding the arena on the third day. No more intrusions and dishonorable departures. The insults on the first two days by mysterious mech knights could only be surpassed by the games of the final day.
No mech knight had the courage on the third day. Anj Kurim worried this was worse and relayed to the mech commander of the wedding games detail to allow any rogue mech knights in, deciding it couldn't be worse than no games at all.
When the mech knight in the gold-alloy came around the corner and spotted the battalion guarding the arena, he did not know they were ordered to let him past. He charged at them, firing his weapons and they scattered. The holo displays in Phoenix Dome showed this exchange, emphasizing the damage to the government-owned superstructure, cashing in on each chunk of concrete sheared away by laser fire.
The gold-alloy mech stood in the arena alone. Someone had hijacked the holo displays and suddenly they showed the face of just one man in the crowd, and as he looked up he recognized himself. It was all coming back to him in a flood of memories.
The other two mech from the previous games entered, the bronze-alloyed and silver-alloyed. They stood side by side, having found Prince Regen in the crowd and turned their mech to face him.
"Open your cockpits and reveal yourselves." They were ordered by Lord Anj Kurim.
They were the three lords Regen had set free so long ago.
"Honor the Princess!" they were told and they did.
"Now the Prince!' but they saluted the man on the holo display instead of Igor. Lord Anj Kurim saw that Igor was terrified. He drew his sword and beheaded Igor on the spot, his blood spraying all over the booth, and Princess Lili was barely able to escape the gore.
The real Prince Regen was married to the Princess Lili, and the remains of Igor were tossed to the dirt floor of the arena and left there. Soon Regen inherited Lord Anj Kurim's position and had his father's power stripped from him and he gave the three lords back their old homes.
And the armor? What alloys are we even talking about? Some say the bronze is infused with courage, to do what is right even when it is very dangerous and to overcome fear in order to act. Some say silver is imbued with the holiness of love, how it causes miracles, drives us to our destiny and opens the locked doors of fate. And gold? Gold stands for honor, an unyielding adherence to fairness and justice.

I might be doing an OC giveaway very soon and need inspiration for OCs. Whether it be a food, a description of their hair, a certain type of clothes, give me your idea. For context, It's a post-apocalyptic semi-magical world. I already have one character based on Konpeito, who does magic through a staff. Also feel free to submit disorders/disabilities with your inspiration.

Making this post because I had a less-than resouceful friend buy herself the boneless, skinless chicken thighs for way more than she should’ve. These tips also work for different cuts of chicken with skin and bones (though with drumsticks I usually just cook them in soup as-is).
Yes, the ones with skin on and bones included are cheaper by weight than the alternative, but if you’ve been just throwing the skin and bones away, stop! I have some budget friendly tips for you.
1) Collect the skin and bones and put them in separate gallon-sized freezer bags. You will be adding to them as you get more chicken. For the skin, keep adding chicken skins and fat to them. For the bag with the bones, you will also want to add veggie scraps such as the skins of onions, garlic, carrots, ginger, and celery. There are others you can add, but if you aren’t familiar with cooking times and qualities of vegetables yet, I’d try to just stick with those. Again, it’s better to use organic veggies or ones sourced from someone you know uses less pesticides when growing as you’re using the skins for this.
2) when you have a good amount of skins(like 3/4lbs or more), make shmaltz (rendered chicken fat). It’s basically the Jewish alternative to lard and tallow. It’s healthier than most cooking oils aside from avocado, olive, and coconut. It has a high smoke point so you can use it to fry, roast, bake, or whatever it is you do with your cooking oils. Because it is animal based, the chemical structure is easier to digest. You might want to steer clear if you have heart problems, though. I used a recipe from Serious Eats which goes like this:

• heat up a saucepan with about a cup of water over medium high heat and put in the chicken skins + fat, stirring occasionally until it starts to boil.
  
• turn heat down to medium low and continue to stir occasionally until the chicken bits start to turn brown and crispy and the water is evaporated (about 50 minutes). Some people like to add chopped onions around the end for extra flavor.
  
• filter with a sieve/muslin cloth over a heatproof container. If left in an airtight container in the fridge, sources say you can store from a week until a few months, depending on how secure and refined your shmaltz is after rendering. If you want, you can also snack on the chicken bits as a crispy snack!
  

3) When you eventually collect enough bones and scraps to fill the ziplock bag, you can make bone broth (or stock, for the anti-hippies). I sometimes add pork bones if I get any with my meat. I make mine in an instant pot so I’m going to use that recipe.

• Dump contents of stock bag into instant pot and cover with water (filtered is best). You can also add aromatics like bay leaf and peppercorns in, though some people like to drink it like a tea, so you could omit.
  
• Set to high pressure for 1.5 hours. Natural release (just don’t touch it til the pressure indicator falls down).
  
• Filter with a sieve to a separate container and not your sink! You can freeze portions for later. Salt to taste.
  

Bone broth(stock) is really good for your bones and adds a really nice flavor to whatever you use it for. Consider using it instead of store-bought stock or Better than Bouillon. You can use it for a healthy egg-drop soup. Supposedly some people use it in smoothies, but personally that’s not for me!
I like to get the crunchier packs of chicken when I can afford to (think free-range, organic, locally sourced), and if you have the means to, you should too since you can utilize all parts of the cut.

PC

Reddit Account: Satisfactionleather7
Discord Tag: CertifiedEveSimp
Name and House: Valarr velaryon
Age: 48
Cultural Group: Valyrian
Appearance: A tall man, but not a large man, standing at six feet, with thick arms and a firm stance, one would expect him to be the visaghe of strength, but more often than not, his bright clothes and feathered hat are simply covering for his drunken state and constant wide smile, though his rugged handsomeness helps.
Trait: Strong
Skill(s): Swords, Essosi Blademaster (e), Dual Wielding, daggers
Talent(s): Singing, Sailing, gambling
Negative Trait(s):
Starting Title(s): Lord of Driftmark, Lord of the Tides, Master of Ships
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters: n/a
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AC

Name and House: Raya Stark
Age: 45
Cultural Group: First Man
Appearance: Marked by slight lines of age, the lady Stark has tanned at sea, her freckles now less pronounced, but her beauty holding strong just as her sense of fashion and love for hats has done the same. Dressed usually in darker tones than her husband, she is still a woman who looks fresh from sea no matter the occasion.
Trait: Mariner
Skill(s): Admiral (e), scrutinous
Talent(s): Sailing, Singing, Caligraphy
Negative Trait(s):
Starting Title(s): Lady of Driftmark
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters: n/a
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Timeline

23 BCE - Valarr Velaryon is born on Driftmark to a cousin of the existing lords of driftmark under Daemon Velaryon. He is never expected to find any power of his own.
20 BCE - Raya Stark is born, a cousin to Torrhen Stark, the king in the North and soon to be the Kneeler. It was said that the first thing she did when she was given the ability to crawl, was to attempt to climb into a bath on her own.
15 BCE - Valarr, at age eight, is brought on his first voyage by his father. The young Valarr is taken on a trading trip to Braavos with his father and the young boy soon becomes enamored with the concept of the sea and the beauty of the world. Beginning his love for travel and sailing.
12 BCE - In White Harbour, where Raya's family had moved, she too takes her first voyage, alongside her father, the tomboyish girl leaves the city and learns ship and sail on a voyage to Duskendale and then Oldtown.
9 BCE - Valarr, now 14, an experienced sailor and well-trained in the sword begins charting his own small trips from Driftmark to trade partners on Westeros. These voyages are only of a few days at best, but largely they are of great success and the man begins building up a regular crew of men and women to serve on his vessels.
7 BCE - Across the sea, Raya Stark begins working with her own small scale shipping adventures, sailing along the coast of the North and down to Gulltown, also in the process she finds herself carrying out anti-piracy actions for her cousin... or rather she is upon the ships that do so and she rambunctiously states she is in fact leading the party. The sailors with her humour her.
5 BCE - Valarr Velaryon begins travelling through Essos. He spends three years moving about through Essos, this first voyage largely spent travelling between Driftmark and the Free cities, fighting in Braavos, Pentos and Tyrosh specifically, but come his latest return home in 3 BCE, he is given word of Aegon's plans for Westeros. Daemon recruits him to fight in the war, and act as a captain in the Velaryon fleet.
2 BCE - Daemon Velaryon sends Valarr north to White harbour to negotiate with the Starks and bring them into the kingdom peacefully, but he is shut out quickly and instead spends time in White Harbour assessing the fleet of the manderlys. There he meets Raya Stark while he competes in a smaller tourney. The two quickly fall in love, and marry. Valarr then returns home to Driftmark with his new wife, and later that year his first son is born.
1 BCE - Valarr deploys to the mainland to fight in the field for Aegon, doing battle under numerous engagements and distinguishing himself well. Meanwhile, his wife Raya takes to her new home well, and leads a small detachment of the Velaryon fleet in battle.
1 AC - Valarr, upon his duty in the war finishing, takes his wife with him back to Essos, and for the next several years he travels the continent proper, his wife and his growing family accompanying him and at times being left back on Driftmark. At times being raised at sea on his travels, at others in Essos.
3 AC - Rhaegal Velaryon, the second son, is born.
4 AC - Valarr, while travelling in Essos, meets a man with a mysterious black Arakh. Over drinks they speak and the man reveals its history to him as some ritual required for a new owner to claim the weapon. Having bested the man in an arena the day before, the man requests a duel to give over the weapon. In the fight, the stranger is wounded, but Valarr no less takes him to receive healing. The man passess on his sword, and Valarr comes into possession of a black sword by the name of
5 AC - Laena Velaryon, his first daughter is born.
6 AC - Viserra Velaryon, the youngest child is born.
7-14 AC - Valarr's adventures in Essos continue and continue to bring him great renown and wealth in the East through adventuring and selling his sword and ship to the highest bidder. However, during this period, he visits Asshai and for fun seeks to have his fortune read. In doing so, a masked figure tells him that he must return to his home, for "the seahorse shall burn seven years after the dragon drowns." At first he does not find any logic to it, and then he hears of the death of Aegon by a Riverlander plot. And for years he contemplates the words, eventually choosing to return home to Driftmark.
15 AC - The kingswood catastrophe wipes out the line of Daemon Velaryon, and when the next Velaryon was needed, Valarr was there on the island and was elevated to be the new lord of the tides from his new keep on Driftmark, High Tide.
16-24 AC - Between the years of 16-24 AC, Valarr's travels east slow down, and he begins to spend more time in King's landing and Driftmark, namely he takes a liking to hosting tourneys on the island regularly, and enjoys the betting and the sport that it brings, competing himself numerous times.
20 AC - Partakes in the Eastern Wooing.
23 AC - Raya Stark negotiates Laena Velaryon marrying Maelor Velaryon's firstborn son. Laena is forced to break off a romance with Dickon bracken, though she knew their romance was doomed already.
--
Family Tree
---
NPCS
Laena Velaryon - master at arms.
Maegor Velaryon - Ship Captain

This question is a 2 and 2 halves parter
Part 1: Has anyone ever looked into Splash Fabric?
It’s supposed to be a nontoxic water resistant cloth, like for a tablecloth. It’s laminated cotton: “100% cotton with a water based polyurethane coating.”
https://splashfabric.com/pages/not-your-grandmas-oilcloth
The website says it’s eco friendly and non toxic and that it’s Oeko-Tex certified. So if it’s Oeko-Tex certified, then presumably it’s safe for humans. Even if that’s true, would it shed microplastics? It’s supposed to be machine washable.
Part 1 and a half: I’ve seen Oeko-Tex on a lot of things since I started looking for plastic free stuff. Is it trustworthy?
Part 1 and another half: while searching for answers I came across two sisters ecotextiles
https://www.twosistersecotextiles.com/pages/are-not-all-fabrics-safe#:~:text=The%20fabrics%20we%20bring%20into,some%20absorb%20through%20our%20skin.
And they’re telling me that stuff listed as 100% cotton can be more like 73% cotton and 27% sht. I also saw someone in this sub say something about 100% wool stuff being treated with a ton of sht they don’t disclose. So how do I know what anything is?? Are there trustworthy brands and/or certifications anyone here typically uses? How do you decide what to trust?
Part 2: The whole point of this rabbit hole is to find a surface to cover my stove. I often go down rabbit holes finding really complicated solutions for things and completely missing a simple solution that I would like better, so I’m just gonna explain my use case and see if anyone has an idea I’d like better.
So I currently live in an apartment with a built in microwave above the stove. This is usually the case anywhere I live. I cook very infrequently but use the microwave all the time and I’m tired of accidentally making a mess of the stove while I’m dealing with the microwave and also tired of not having a flat working surface under the microwave.
My solution: put a wood cutting board under the microwave. Most options the size I want seem to be bad quality or super expensive. So I found some nice wooden cutting boards on IKEA that are the perfect size to have two side by side on the stove. (Don’t worry about safety, I don’t have the pilot light type of stove and I’m going to remove the knobs to prevent accidentally turning on the gas. The knobs will be nearby for when I need them. Or I’ll get safety covers or something. Tell me if this is a dumb idea and I’m still being unsafe please.)
Great, now I have nice cutting boards which I will also use very infrequently but are good to have. But now I have another surface to worry about dirtying and a potential gap in between the boards for food to fall into and make a mess on the stove. The idea of having to maintain the wood with oil or something stresses me out but I like the idea of having cutting boards when I need them and glass feels unwieldy, so I figured I’d stick with the boards and see if I could find a water resistant tablecloth type material, hence the question about Splash Fabric. I figure I could get a few pieces of fabric the size I want and use them on the stove or anywhere I need to protect a surface and I can just put them in the wash when I need to. And they’d be multipurpose.
So that’s where I’m at now. Thanks for visiting the inside of my brain.
Let me know any thoughts you want to share, thank you.
TLDR: splash fabric microplastics???
Also coincidentally someone just posted asking about cutting boards. I happened to find a helpful page though I haven’t fact checked it.
https://healthyhouseontheblock.com/non-toxic-cutting-boards.html#

There's a lot to explain, and I'm pretty sure that the title doesn't do this situation justice. This is also a throwaway acc- I don't want a suddenly depressing post getting cozy with all my memes and cheery content.
A little backstory- I (16F, Soph) have had bad blood with my mom (36F) for a while, since around the 7th grade. My grades have been iffy, but since freshman year I've been working to fix them. Third quarter, I had an extremely low point. Every day was a haze and I can't remember what sent me through it, and when I snapped out of it, it was too late to change anything. I had straight F's, all except for one of my math classes, which I don't even understand how I managed to maintain. These have plummeted my semester grade, but I've fixed some of them, evened them out to high D's, low C's, and a B. Two of them are unsalvageable, which is completely my fault. I'm still working to raise one more up to a D in the semester.
This all "started" a couple of weeks ago, but I'm guessing it's been building since my last parent teacher confrence. My mother had sat us down in the living room last saturday and informed my sisters (11F and 13F) and I that we were moving, and she's putting our trailer up for sale the first of next month. She said where we find a place is where we will move, so I can't even prepare myself for what I should expect. The main issues I have with moving are;
1- I had to go through it a lot when I was younger and had a really unstable social life, most likely the root of my current social anxiety.
2- I'm nearly an adult- I'm halfway through highschool. It's not going to be easy for me to make new friends in a social climate I have no prior existence in, let alone be able to keep the friends I could potentially make when they move on for college in 2 years. Don't get me wrong, I'd still stay in contact with the friends I have where I'm at, but when you have no friends in the area you live in, it's rough.
3- When I was younger, she promised me that I'd be able to finish my edjucation here, even college if I chose any of them in my area. I know it's stupid to hang on the words of a promise, that things change and promises sometimes can't be held up, but it still hurts being ripped away when I was nearly done with highschool.
My sisters got excited and started looking for new places immediately. I know our place isn't a dream, but we came here, owning nothing but a car. I started the third grade in this town and have been here since. This is my childhood home since the age of nine, I don't remember any other houses we rented. We actually own this trailer too- we're not just renting it from someone. I helped build my own room out of an off limits area when I was 11. It's not perfect, but it's most of what I've known. So are my friends. I can't count how many I've kept since the start of middle school, even if they transfered.
Even if I don't want to leave, I'm no angel. My room is dirty almost all the time, I can't see the floor because of a bunch of dirty clothes. That's one of the reasons my mom is holding against me to make it seem unreasonable that I'm upset about moving- "You don't appreciate your own room." I have no excuse for the way my room looks. It just feels like im paralyzed on my bed afterschool and on the weekends, I'm just tired. I don't know whether or not I'm lazy, isn't being lazy supposed to be enjoyable, at least for the short term in the moment?
The other reason she's giving me are my grades. As stated before, those aren't perfect either, but I'm trying. I've even taken steps to enroll myself into summer school to recover the credits I missed this year. Sure, I have flaws, but does that mean I'm not allowed to be upset over moving at such a crucial developmental point in my life? I'm not even arguing with her about it, all I'm doing is expressing how I feel- I'm not even saying anything to her, I said my piece when she sat us down. I'm just grieving.
Earlier today, she picked me up, everything seemed normal. Then she told me she had a conversation with my dad, (39M), who's out of the picture, but still communicating. She told me that he and her discussed about things continuing "the way I'm taking them." She said if I don't change, she's just going to pull me out of school and make me get my GED. She said she was worried I was going to ruin my career. A GED isn't bad, by all means, but I want an actual diploma. I want to be there with everyone else, dressed in a solid color robe, celebrating the fact that we made it. I won't have the advantages of any early social life at all in the area. I've heard adults say it's hard to make friends once you graduate, and I don't want to be thrown into that early, while being in a new area all at the same time.
I was thinking about all this in the car and cried. I don't think I can take much more of this. It's like she wants my life to follow a certain track, and I'm derailing her train. She dropped out her sophmore year to get married and do hard drugs for a while before she had me, so in my personal opinion, I'm doing way better than she ever had. I know it sounds harsh, and maybe I am being harsh, but when you hear the same story shoved down your throat over and over and over since the 3rd grade, and now said story has been turned into a weapon, it kind of gets redundant to you.
My mom tried cheering me up while we were out for a bit after dropping that by trying to show me facebook memes and telling me funny things my guinea pigs did to eachother that day, but I gave her the cold shoulder the entire time, so now she's pissed. I didn't even say anything, she just started spouting that "I hated her" and "I'm gonna cut her out of my life when I'm older", "I'd rather see her dead than talk with her."
The first two are at least half true at this point, she's been nothing but a source of harsh criticism for years of my life, barely any encouragement or pride in me, if anything at all. If she keeps doing that, I might end up hating her and cutting contact, which just hurts to think about. I don't want to cut contact with the only parent that raised me, even if she didn't raise me well. I still love her at the end of the day, and I think I hate that more than I hate her.
I don't know if this is all just incoherent rambling at this point, I've been crying through 2/3 of the way through this I think. I know I'm not a saint, and I'm at least a partial asshole, but am I completely at fault for this? Did I fall into being a moody, hormonal teen that hates their parents for no reason on accident? AITA?
TLDR: AITA if I'm upset over my mom making me move in the middle of attending high school, on top of threatening to pull me out of school all together for "the sake of my career"?
If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I just need help.

I accidentally posted this to my username instead of my subreddit so here is is:
The Mortgage, Part 3
“Fuck,” I said as I drove to work in the old beater that only started on the fourth try because it could tell that I was pissed off. Ray’s case started at two o’clock, and I was heading to the office to get ready. “Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck. Fuck.” I’d wanted to tell Angela about Ray’s case, and how I was sorry that I hadn’t wanted to help him, but now I would, I would help him, and I would win, but then I’d gotten her all riled up on something else, something totally different, something way more serious.
My wife had given me a triple ultimatum: fix things up with her father, save idiot Ray from Sy-Co Corp., and somehow find a downpayment for the place she wanted to buy, in the little townhouse infill project in Bixity. It was like demanding I do a double bank shot, and then run over to the baseball diamond and hit a home run after first pointing to where it would land, Babe Ruth style.
Angela was mad at me, seriously mad. She’d slipped out that morning before I was even awake, sliding quietly past me on the couch. I didn’t realize she was gone until I heard the faint click of the front door closing. I jumped up, tripped over a blanket, and by the time I got up and my robe on, the elevator down the hall dinged, and Angela was gone before I opened the apartment door.
I swore at myself some more and pounded the steering wheel, “I fucked up,” I said, several times as I hit the wheel over and over again, until I accidentally honked it, and then looked all sheepish when the guy in front of me gave me the finger. I reached my office without further incident, but instead of walking in the front door, I went further down the hall, and into the office of Mark Cecil-Rowe, Barrister, LL.D, the man with the finest speaking voice I ever heard. When I entered his office I forgot for a minute about Angela and her father and sleeping on the couch the night before. I forget about everything, except the reason that I had come to Cecil-Rowe’s office: to stump him with a legal problem that I had solved, but which I was pretty sure he could not. In other words, I had come to preen and to brag and to boast. No one likes a showoff, and I had come to show off. I put my hand on the door and turned the knob. After a brief pause, I flung open the door.
“I’m a goddamn genius,” I said as I strolled into the older man’s office.
I noticed the echo of a hastily closed desk drawer hanging in the air. In Aaron’s office, where I rented space, a sudden act of concealment implied cocaine, but with Cecil-Rowe, the item in question was probably a mickey of vodka. I had the sense that he’d been drinking a bit before I arrived, but his powers of observation were unimpaired, and when he looked into my face, his expression showed sympathy, and actual pain.
“What have you done now?” he said, as set the papers before him to one side, and readied himself to hear my latest tale of legal brilliance.
“I’m a genius,” I said.
“Oh dear. Have a seat.”
“No really, I am. I’m a genius. I got this case that everyone says you can’t win, but I’m gonna win it, and when I do, I’m gonna look like a genius.” Cecil-Rowe gave me a sad indulgent smile.
“Whenever you tell me you’re a genius, I am always concerned about what is to follow. When you get wrapped up in what you call your genius, you tend to ignore the more mundane things we lawyers have to do to win a case. You think you’re going to win by genius alone.”
“Let me tell you why I’m a goddamn genius.” With effort I wiped the smug, self-satisfied expression that was on my face.
“Tell me why you’re a genius,” Cecil-Rowe said, “while I pour us a coffee.” He heaved his bulky body up from his chair and shuffled over to a counter. He picked up a carafe of hot coffee sitting on a hot plate, and poured two cups. “Speak,” he said, handing me one. I took a sip of the coffee, and told Cecil-Rowe the tale of Cousin Ray: his purchase of a franchise from Sy-Co Corp, its swift demise, the crash and burn in Commercial Court, the Minutes of Settlement, the seventy-one kilometer limit, and lastly, Sy-Co’s motion scheduled for two p.m. that very day, seeking an interim injunction shutting down Ray’s place.
Cecil-Rowe absorbed all this without the need to take notes. Instead, he sat back while he eyed me, taking the occasional sip of coffee, and smiling at the extravagant flourishes and details that brought out Ray’s story to full effect.
“Obviously Ray is dead on arrival,” he said, “but I guess this is the part where you tell me how you’re going to win.”
So I told him how I was going to win, but it didn’t have the desired effect. “I told ya I’m a genius, Mr. C,” cueing him to applaud, to admit what a brilliant lawyer I was. But there was no applause from Mark Cecil-Rowe. He looked at me without so much as a smile.
“You can cling to that genius notion as a consolation prize, after you get whipped this afternoon in court.”
“No way,” I said, “not a chance. I got this thing won hands down. I’m gonna kick ass in court today and--”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that, if you don’t have evidence?”
“What?”
“Evidence, Calledinthe9os. It’s what lawyers like me use to beat geniuses like you.”
“But I’m gonna win without proof. I don’t need proof. The argument I’m gonna make, relies on simple facts that are totally obvious, so the judge is gonna--” Cecil-Rowe stuck up his hand.
“Stop right there. I know what’s coming. You’re going to ask the judge to take *judicial notice.”
And he was right. That was exactly what I was going to do.
There are some things so obvious that you didn’t have to prove them, things that everyone knew. You didn’t have to prove that water froze at zero degrees and boiled at a hundred, or that Bixity was between West Bay and East Bay.
“You got it,” I said, “judicial notice all the way.”
“You’re going to tell the judge that the centerpiece of your argument, the lynchpin of your case is a fact known to pretty well everyone, and so you don’t need proof.”
“Exactly,” I said. Cecil-Rowe took another sip of his coffee, and left me hanging in the silence for a while before he spoke.
“If that’s true, then why does coming up with that argument make you a genius?”
“Oh, I said,”I didn’t think of that.”
“It is acceptable to rely on judicial notice for minor, ancillary points. But you never should walk into court thinking that the court will take judicial notice of your entire defence. It’s just too risky.”
“But how am I going to rustle up a witness in time for this afternoon?”
“Worry about that after you leave my office. I can’t help you with that. What I want to know, is why you’re doing this at the last minute.”
“What makes you think I’m doing this at the last minute?”
“Because you never would have resorted to judicial notice if you were properly prepared. If you’d opened this case a bit earlier, you’ve have everything lined up. But you got to work on it late, and so you want to rely on judicial notice. You’ve messed up, Calledinthe90s, and you know what my rule is when you mess up.” Cecil-Rowe didn’t extend aid to me, until I admitted the error of my ways. It was infuriating, but he was inflexible. So I fessed up.
“My idiot cousin Ray’s been trying to retain me for almost two weeks, but I was putting him off because I was mad at him. So now my wife’s mad at me, and if I don’t win this case, I’m dead. Plus her dad’s mad at me too and --” My brain roared into overdrive, a mess of family and law and fear, and at the centre of it, thoughts of Angela’s anger and her father. My mind took off, and then came to an instant halt at a helpful destination.
“Yes?” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Sorry. I just realized how to solve the evidence problem. Look, can I ask you about the thing I actually came here to ask you about?”
“You have a problem that’s worse than having no evidence? What could be worse than -- oh. You don’t have a retainer. Your client doesn't have any money.”
“Exactly. How do I get paid? That’s the problem.” I explained that Ray had no money, as in none, and that if he did have money, he wouldn’t spend it on me. Instead, he’d go back downtown and throw his cash at some big firm, who would take on his case, and proceed to lose it in a calm, careful, sober manner, ending in a reporting letter to Ray telling him that he’d lost.
“Now that’s a problem I can solve,” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Really? ‘Cause I can’t see a way around it. I think I’m gonna have to do this for free, and that really pisses me off.” Cecil-Rowe shook his head.
“You may or may not get paid, but you can set things up so that if you win, you’ll win pretty good.”
“How? Ray’s a deadbeat. Tapped out.”
“But is he desperate?”
“Totally. The first time he failed, he lost his own money, but if he goes under this time, he’s taking family money with him, and he’ll be the black sheep forever.”
“And he’s using family to emotionally blackmail you into helping him?’
“Like no shit. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I’m like a goddamn slave, being forced to work for free.”
“Never fear, young apprentice. I have just the thing in mind.” He reached into a drawer, and pulled out a form. “Fill in the blanks, and have him sign.”
I looked it over, and saw that the document was a retainer agreement. I whistled. “Holy shit. If he signs this, he’s almost my slave.”
“Close, but not quite” Cecil-Rowe said, “the Latin term for this is "contractus pro venditione animae"”. It’s the ultimate retainer agreement. Once Ray signs that, you own any cause of action he has against the person suing him. You can settle the case on any terms you like, and you get to keep whatever proceeds there are.” Cecil-Rowe placed the folder back in a drawer, and from his manner you could tell that the interview was over.
“Awesome, Mr. C. I’ll call you from Commercial Court when we’re done.”
“Commercial Court?” he said.
“Yeah, Commercial Court.”
“This just keeps getting worse. Take notes, Calledinthe90s, while I school you on Commercial Court. Commercial Court is a jungle, and without preparation, you’ll get savaged.”
“That’s what happened to Ray when--”
“Take notes, young apprentice,” he said, tossing me a pad and a pen. He started to lecture, and I took notes that I have with me to this day, in a safe deposit box downstairs in the vault at Mega Bank Main Branch.
* * *
By the time Cecil-Rowe finished schooling me, it was close to ten, and the case started at two. I didn’t have much time. I ran down the hall to my office, and called Ray’s restaurant. No answer. Then I called Ray’s house. I expected to get Ray’s wife, but the man himself answered.
“You’re not at work. Why aren’t you at work?”
“Sy-Co Corp served all my employees with a cease and desist letter. They all got scared and took off. The place is shut down.”
“You gotta fax machine at home?” He did, and asked why.
“I’m taking your case, but only if you sign the paper I’m about to send and fax it back.” I sent the fax, and five minutes later it came back signed, and it was official: Ray had sold me his legal soul.
I went out to the parking lot, got into my beater and drove fast. In less than thirty minutes I reached my destination. I knocked on the door, and when it opened, my diminutive mother-in-law poked out her head. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said.
“Sorry, Mrs. M, but I’m in a super hurry. I gotta rush to get to court to help Ray. But first, I gotta speak to Dr. M.”
“He’s not here,” she said.
“Not here?”
“He’s on his way to his bridge game. He left just a few minutes ago.”
“Where’s the club?”
“He’s walking there,” she said, and pointed down the street.
“Thanks.” I got into my car and headed where Mrs. M had pointed, passing big houses and new project with an “Opening Soon” sign. And walking past it was the figure of Dr. M.
“Hey, Dr. M,” I called out the window. He stopped and looked around, startled. But he didn’t see me, not at first.
“It’s me, Dr. M. Me, Calledin90s.” He leaned forward as if to see me better. I got out of the car.
“Is something wrong with Angela? Or the baby?”
“No, no not at all, sorry to scare you, it’s nothing like that. I need your help.”
“Oh.” He started walking again, and now it was my turn to be a bit stunned, watching my father-in-law walk away from me. I caught up with him in a few quick strides.
“Listen, I really need your help.”
“And I really need to get to a bridge game.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Ray.” That brought him to a halt. He turned to me, angrier even than he’d been the night before.
“Did you drive all the way out here just to make fun of me? To remind me of how you won, distracting me with nonsense about Ray’s case?”
“I mean it,” I said, “I can win Ray’s case. I can prove it in a few words.”
“Prove it, then.” So I did. I spoke words, only a few words, but they were the right words to speak to Dr. M, for the words I spoke were in his language, words that he understood perfectly.
“I understand,” he said, “you’ve come to boast some more, to prove that you were right after all.”
“I want to win Ray’s case, but I don’t have any proof of what I’m saying.”
“You don’t need to prove that two plus two is four.”
“This, I gotta prove, and I need you to help me prove it. I need you to come to court with me, as my witness.”
“I can’t do that. I didn’t witness anything.”
“As my witness. My expert witness.” Unlike a normal witness, an expert witness can give an opinion. An expert is there not to advocate, I explained to Dr. M but to instruct, to teach.
“My bridge partner won’t be very happy,” he said.
“But Ray will, and so will Mrs. M and Angela and--”
“Very well. Do you have a cell phone? We can call the bridge club from my car.”
* * *
We were on the highway getting close to the downtown exit, when my wife called my cell phone. Back then cell phone service was super expensive and my wife only used it for emergencies. Or when she was really angry. I picked up the phone, wondering which it would be.
“I’m so happy that you made things up with my father,” she said.
“How did you know?”
“My mother called. She says you took him with you, that you went out together.”
“He’s with me right now,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“To court. Going to court to win Ray’s case for him.”
“And you brought my father with you to watch?” She was so happy, I could hear in her voice that she was smiling. “That’s a great way to bond with him, Calledinthe90s. Look, I’m sorry I got so mad at you earlier, I really am. My dad’s a bit too sensitive and--”
“Sorry, Angela, your dad’s not coming to watch me.”
“Why is he with you, then?”
“He’s my witness,” I said.
“What?”
“His expert witness,” Dr. M said, loudly enough for Angela to hear.
My wife’s anger exploded into the phone. She wanted to know how I could expose her elderly, vulnerable father to the stress of a court case. I tried to tell her how I needed him, how there was literally no one else I could turn to, that her father was an expert, a true expert, and the judge was legally bound to believe him, but Angela heard none of this.
“Look,’ I said, “I promise you that--” And then I lowered the phone and pushed the red button, terminating the call. I’d learned that the best way to hang up on someone, was to do it when I was doing the talking. That way it looked like the call had dropped.
“I’m going to steal that move,” Dr. M said.
We rolled into the parking lot. I grabbed the cloth bag out of the back of my car, the bag that held my law robes and shirt and tabs, plus the other stuff I needed for court. It was one-thirty, still thirty minutes to go, not a lot of time to get robed and ready for court. It was just past one-forty five when I, with Dr. M in tow, opened the door to a courtroom on the eighth floor of an old insurance building that had been converted into a courthouse, the home of Commercial Court.
“Commercial Court is an exclusive club,” Cecil-Rowe had explained to me earlier that day, “the legal playground of the rich and powerful. They’ll know instantly that you’re not one of them.” And he was right. It was clear from the moment I walked in that I did not belong, for I was the only lawyer in robes. Everyone else was wearing a suit, and not some cheap thing off the rack like I wore.
There were a half-dozen lawyers present, and after they saw me, they exchanged knowing looks about the stranger amongst them. I ignored them, and walked up to the Registrar. I told him the case I was on, and he signed me in.
“First time in Commercial Court?” he said, eyeing my robes. “You know you don’t have to be robed in Commercial Court.” In other Superior Courts, you always had to bring your robes and get all dressed up. But Commercial Court had its own set of rules, and in the court for rich people, their lawyers did not have to wear robes.
“You’re here on the Sy-Co case?” a young woman asked. She was a junior like me, give a year or two either way. She was dressed in the finest downtown counsel fashion, some designer thing that Angela would know if she saw it.
“Just got retained,” I said.
“You know there’s no adjournments, right? We don’t do adjournments in Commercial Court. I’m just trying to be helpful, because I don’t think you've been here before. You know you don’t have to be robed, right?
“So I heard.”
“So where’s your material? You haven’t served anything, so how do you plan to argue your case?”
“I gotta witness,” I said.
She smiled. “There’s no viva voce evidence, either. Affidavit only.”
“We’ll see what the judge says.” There was a knock from the other side of the door to the judge’s chambers, and then the man himself entered.
I was amazed to see that even the judge wasn’t wearing a robe; instead, he was wearing a light coloured suit and a bright blue bow tie. He was dressed as good as the lawyers, all part of the downtown Commercial Court club, the playground of the richest and most powerful corporations in the City.
“Commercial Court’s not like other courts,” Cecil-Rowe told me earlier that day, explaining that most cases were over in fifteen minutes or less. A plaintiff showed up with some papers, and had a short consultation with the judge. The judge signed an order granting an injunction, or taking away a man’s business, or freezing his money. Commercial Court is where you went to get quick and simple court orders that eviscerated your opponent before the case even got going.
Defendants would appear sometimes in Commercial Court, Cecil-Rowe explained, but it was usually their last time up. Defendants always died a quick death in Commercial Court.
The judge took his seat, and then looked over the lawyers before him. His eyes moved along, and then stopped when they reached me, the one lawyer who was not like the others.
“You don’t need robes in Commercial Court,” the judge said to me.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I said.
“What case are you on?”
I told him.
“He’s filed no responding materials,” my opponent said, “nothing at all.”
“I’m just vetting the list,” the judge said, “I’ll circle back to you two in a few minutes.” I listend while the judge vetted the rest of the afternoon list: a Mareva, plus a Norwich order, with counsel on those cases sent away in a matter of minutes.
Now the courtroom was almost empty, just the judge, two lawyers, the registrar and my star witness and father-in-law, Dr. M, who sat in the back of the courtroom dressed in an old business suit, put on hastily at his place two hours earlier, when I urged him to hurry it up, to not waste so much time on picking a suit.
“Back to you,” the judge said, addressing my opponent, “I thought this was an uncontested matter. That’s what your confirmation sheet said.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honour, but I didn’t know until I got here that the case was defended.”
“I got retained at the last minute,” I said, “barely three hours ago, the day after I read the papers. But I’m ready to go, ready to argue the case on the merits, so long as you grant me an indulgence, and let me call my witness, to let him testify in person instead of by affidavit, there being no time for me to draft anything.”
Opposing counsel was on her feet. “That’s not how things are done in Commercial Court,” she said, “or any court that I know of, for that matter. My friend (that’s what they make lawyers call each other in court, ‘my friend,’ even though you might hate the other guy’s guts),” the lawyer said, “my friend should have served his responding materials and filed them with the court. Instead, he’s taken us totally by surprise.”
“I’m sorry my friend is surprised by opposition,” I said, “but then consider, it’s my client’s livelihood that’s at stake. If my friend gets her injunction, Ray Telewu’s business is dead, and he loses everything. So yes, my client opposes the injunction, and yes, I’d like to call evidence.”
The judge didn’t consult the papers before him nor the books, but instead, he looked up at the big white clock on the courtroom wall. Its hands said two-fifteen.
“How long will your witness take, counsel?”
“In chief, ten minutes.” I’d practiced with Dr. M on the way in, and I was pretty sure he could do it in five, but I gave him a bit of extra time, just in case.
“We’ve got about two hours,” the judge said, “but I want to be fair to you and your client. Let’s take a fifteen minute recess so you can get instructions. Either we go ahead today with viva voce evidence, or we adjourn, and that will give Calledinthe90s time to file responding materials.”
When everyone came back, the junior’s boss was there, Senior Counsel, a heavy weight, one of those big guys downtown. Plus they brought this guy from Sy-Co Corp, the head of some bullshit division, with some bullshit title, Head of whatever, so that’s the title I’ll give him here. He was The Head. He was the man, the big cheese, the signer of the affidavit on which Sy-Co relied that day.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked Senior Counsel.
He stared at me, all lean and steel grey, looking every inch the hard hitting lawyer that commanded the biggest fees. “If you’re calling a live witness, then so can we. The Head will give evidence today, in advance of your client, so that the judge hears it from him first.” His junior smirked at me, and the two of them sat down, delighted that they’d thought of a way to one up me.
Except that they’d done it by exposing their client to cross-examination. The judge came in, allowed the Head to testify, and when he was done, I stood up.
“Just a few questions,” I said. Senior Counsel was stunned for an instant, and then he stood.
“This serves no purpose, Your Honour. The witness has confirmed the simple facts of his affidavit, and there’s no disputing it. Ray Telewu opened a restaurant less than seventy-one kilometres from Bixity City Hall, and that’s in breach of the Minutes of Settlement he signed.”
I did not bother to respond. Instead, I just stood, and I started to ask questions.
“Have a look at that map in your affidavit,” I said, and he did. I picked up my copy, and tore the map out of it. I passed it up to him.
“What do you notice about this map?”
“That it’s accurate,” the Head said, repeating his evidence in chief, amplifying it, talking about how the map contained perfect measurement.
“You will notice that the map is flat,” I said, laying it on the witness box before him.
“Of course it’s flat. That’s what maps are. Maps are flat.”
“But the earth is round,” I said, “or more properly, a sphere.” Senior Counsel was on his feet in an instant.
“What difference does that make?” he said.
“What you’ll hear from my expert witness, is that a flat map cannot accurately show Earth’s curves. A flat map distorts distances, and in this case, reduces them.”
“But that can’t be by very much.”
“In this case, by just over twenty meters,” Dr. M said from the back of the court.
“That’s my expert witness, the esteemed Dr. M.” I didn’t actually say Dr. M. Instead, I said his real name. But I’m not going to use the real names of my family here, so I’ll just keep calling him Dr. M. “Dr. M was a professor of Physics at the University of Bixity for almost thirty years. He has published numerous papers on particle physics, and is the first Canadian winner of the Wolf Prize for physics.”

• * * *

It went downhill after that for Sy-Co Corp. My father-in-law testified, explaining in simple language, language that even a child could understand, that the Earth was a sphere, that the shortest distance between two points on Earth was a curve, not a straight line. He summarized his calculations in plain English, dumbing down the math, so that everyone present imagined, if only for the moment, that they shared his understanding of a difficult mathematical equation.
Senior Counsel tried to cross-examine Dr. M, but it did not go well, my father-in-law indulging him, gently chiding him, continuing his explanations until the lawyer sat down, defeated by Dr. M’s mastery of the subject,his own lack of preparation and his inability to improvise. When counsel said that he had no further questions, the judge addressed us all.
“I’m not going to reserve, and I don’t think I need to tell everyone why. I think it will take about a minute for me to write a decision saying that the Earth is not flat. I’ll give you some more time after that, but after fifteen minutes, I”ll be back to render my decision.” He rose, everyone bowed, and he disappeared behind the door to judge’s chambers.
I pulled a piece of paper out of my file, and slammed it on the desk before Senior Counsel and his junior. “Fill in the blanks, and sign,” I said.
Dr. M’s head shot up at the commotion, and he shuffled over to see what was going on.
“What’s this?” Senior Counsel said, picking up the paper I gave him..
“Minutes of Settlement. You fill in a number, a big number, for the costs you gotta pay me. Your client signs, and then we’re done.” Senior Counsel opened his mouth to bargain, but I overrode him.
“You know your client’s going to lose; the judge made that obvious. Hurry up if you want to settle; we don’t have much time.”
At the end of most Canadian court cases, the loser has to pay at least part of the winner’s legal fees. That’s the way it’s been since forever, and I think it’s a good rule. Sy-Co Corp had lost, so it had to pay a good chunk of Ray’s costs, and Ray’s costs were somewhere between whatever bullshit figure I claimed they were, and where they actually ought to be. Senior Counsel took the paper over to his client. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back, with the form signed, and a number written in the blank space.
I’ll give it to Sy-Co Corp and their lawyer. It wasn’t a bullshit number, a low ball number. They gave me a real number, a number more like something I’d actually accept, a number that made sense to pay me in costs, in light of the success I’d had, and how I got it. It was a respectful number, a common sense number, and I appreciated it an awful lot.
I tossed the paper back at them.
“Add a zero,” I said, continuing on when Senior Counsel blanched, and his junior retreated a step. “I know what’s going on here. Your client sold mine a bullshit franchise, one with a history of failing.” The franchise had opened up again under a new owner not long after Ray had lost it and then it promptly failed again. Like I said at the start of this story, it’s an old story. It’s how some franchise companies make money. “Your client makes more money selling bullshit franchises doomed to fail, then it does from the honest ones that make money. So add a zero to that number, or Ray’s gonna sue you, class action and all that, for all the people you’ve fucked.”
The Head stepped forward from the benches and spoke to me.
“We get threats like that all the time, but no one follows through. They don’t have the money to fight us, and neither does your client. So go ahead and sue.”
“It’s true that Ray doesn’t have jack shit,” I said, “not a pot to piss in, but he’s my cousin, Ray is, and even if he doesn’t have money, he’s got me. Ray’s family, and for Ray, I’ll sue you guys for free. Hell, I’ll even pay the expenses. Plus I’m gonna put a jury notice in, too, come to think of it, ‘cause juries--”
Senior Counsel cut me off, and moved his client to the back of the courtroom. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back. I watched as Senior Counsel wrote a single digit on the Minutes, a zero, written right where I wanted it.
“You’ll have to initial the change,” I said to the Head of Sy-C0, and it gave me great satisfaction to watch him sign.
“Don’t forget,” I said the moment his pen stopped moving, “for the settlement to be valid, I need to get the money today. Right now.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” the Head said.
“Not if you want the settlement to stay in place. I’ll follow you back to your office, and you can put a cheque in my hands.”

• * * *

“What’s this?” my wife said when I entered the apartment later that day, after I’d driven Dr. M home, stopping first at a local pub for beers.
“It’s an absurdly expensive bunch of flowers,” I said, “although no flowers, however beautiful, however expensive, could expiate my--”
She took the flowers, and gave a kiss.
“My mom called. She told me what happened. You fixed things with my dad.”
“Yup,” I said. I had certainly done that. I’d made Dr. M a professor again, if only for a few minutes. Not only a professor, but an expert witness. The judge had declared him an expert in plain terms and Dr.M had beamed when he’d heard those words.
“And you won Ray’s case, too. But my mom didn’t know how, and I don’t know how you did it either.”
“I’ll tell you over dinner tonight,” I said.
“But we agreed no more dinners out; we have to save money, now that a baby’s coming.”
I passed her the envelope that I’d received a few hours before. She opened it, and took out a cheque, a cheque drawn up for an amount I specified, made payable to Mr. and Mrs. Calledinthe90s.
The moment I got that cheque, all I could think about was how my wife would react when I put it into her hands. I could not wait to see her eyes bulge, to hear her voice say “oh my god,” to hear her laugh.
She did none of these things. Instead, she cried.
“Does this mean we can buy a house?” The money wouldn’t be enough to buy a house, not nowadays, with prices being so crazy. But things were different back then in the 90s. Sure, the internet was barely a thing and cell phones were super expensive and a lot of things sucked, but I’ll give the nineties one thing: houses were cheap.
“I think so,” I said.

I (22m) live with my cousin (22m). I had moved out since I was 20 into my own house that my dad bought my sister which evidently been handed down to me. My father paid off the house so all he gave me to worry about are the utility bills. The bills comes out to be 300 a month. I handle all the bills while my cousin just sends me through Zelle his portion. Other than that we share the cost of everything pretty” fairly”. I usually am the one to tell my cousin when he should be buying stuff like the necessities like toilet paper, paper towels, toilet bowl cleaners, etc. whenever he goes shopping, it’s only for what he thinks the house needs (usually only foods)
Routine: My cousin works 40 hours a week with some days of the week he may work 12 hours. He enters at 2pm and gets home anywhere between 10:30-2am. His routine is pretty much, wake up at 12pm, take a shower, get ready, get to work by 2am (only a 30 min commute due to traffic). When he gets home, he would pretty much smoke weed, play video games and finish off his night watching tv. Rinse and repeat every single day. He claims he can’t get adequate sleep.
Kitchen/ dishes issue: When it comes to chores, he is very poor when it comes to it. We had a routine where we would switch on and off who does the dishes by who did them last. Whenever I have dishes that I need to do, I tend to do all of them and clean the sink itself as well but when it’s his turn, he only does whatever he can in that free time being 1 sink and/or leave all the pots and pans left for me.(I have 2 sinks) we had multiple discussions where the dishes are becoming a problem because they pile up pretty bad to where they start to smell. He told me to let’s no longer do the “your turn for the dishes strategy” but just do the dishes whenever we can. Since last month, I had done the dishes 80% of the time as he never did them after he got out of work. It’s been dreadful as I know I am picking up the slack whenever he is not doing his 50%. Let me inform you guys that he is the type of person to leave the drain hole without the middle piece to prevent food from going down the drain because “it was clogging the sink”. There was a time where I told him that I will be cleaning out the fridge to which I did while he did the dishes and he left some for tomorrow to which it never got cleaned by him but instead piled on until the following week. I had told him 2 weeks ago that if he can clean the stove as there is buildup of grease/ oil and grime. As well as the microwave to which he agreed but he never cleaned the microwave and he did clean the stove but never washed / dried the shiny trim that is removable from the sink. Instead what he did was put it in the sink and left it there for 3 days until I told him to clean what he left.
Smoking Issue: Overall he is a person that has some respect for the house but he is living too comfortable I would say and is using my kindness to an advantage. I used to have a roommate which would throw get togethers every week or so and whenever she has multiple people over, she would feel like to smoke a cigarette inside the house without asking me. She didn’t do this on a daily basis but only whenever there are people in a party setting. I told my cousin to not do this and which he agreed. Soon after him moving in, he would smoke a blunt in his room which would make the house smell like weed and would occasionally creep into my room through the vents. I told him to stop smoking blunts / joints as it makes the entire house smell which he understood and began to smoke bongs only. I would say smoking a bong is 100x better than joints. Smells a bit but not where I am constantly thinking about it. As long as it does not smell like weed while I’m in the bathroom, room, living room, or kitchen.
Lawn: It’s starting to get warmer and I have paid 80 bucks for spring cleaning work from this landscaper and mentioned it to my cousin that we should go half and half. He disagreed and said we should work on it ourselves. I didn’t care about spending 80 bucks so I bought it and told him that I don’t expect him to pay half to just consider it me doing my turn in a way. Well it began to grow after a week pretty quickly and needed a trim again. Instead of me just tellling him “hey it needs a cut” I just cut it myself again after I worked 8 hours, a 10-6. After that I told him to cut it in 1-2 weeks and which he said okay but when it was getting closer to 2 weeks, he couldn’t cut the lawn as it began to rain and it was pushed back to 3 weeks. when he was cutting the lawn, he took separate days to cut the back and front and when he was cutting the back, he had asked me to buy a rack as there was a lot of grass ontop of the lawn and which I did. He ended up making me rack the lawn as we went out randomly to a bar that night. The lawn is pretty big, so I only did 30% and which he never finished the job. The next week being this past week, he had went outside to cut the grass as he just wants me and him to cut the grass as we go whenever one of us has the chance. That day we had a lot of dishes to do and the grass I had the ability to mow the next day as I had the day off. Overall I just am getting frustrated with the change of dynamics of how things were getting done as now it just seems like he wants to find someway of not doing work for a week or 2 consecutively rather than staying on a planned schedule.
Bathroom: The bathroom has been minor but yet just frustrating as whenever I use the bathroom, I always set up a new roll of toilet paper when I finish it into the holder and when I am drying my hands off with the hand towel, I hang it up neatly back where I had it placed. Now when it comes to my cousin, he does things differently. When he finishes the toilet paper roll, he leaves the old one in the holder and grabs a new one and leaves it infront of the toilet where I have a shelf at. I told him multiple times to just put the toilet paper roll in the holder where it belongs and he agreed but still ignored me. Finally after he lived there since October of 2023, he finally did it as of recently. Just once. When he washes his hands, he leaves the hand towel on the table when he can just put the hand towel up normally keeping the bathroom as it possibly can. Another thing which I take blame for my part is the leaving the clothes in the bathroom. There is a little space under the sink that can fit a laundry basket for dirty clothes and I use that area for my clothes after I finish the shower. It never sticks out or anything as I push it far back as possible. Whenever my roommate finishes the shower, he leaves his clothes in the bathroom maybe once every week being socks, shorts, underwear, socks by the toilet, by the sink, on the shelves. I take part blame as I do that as well. Not really something I complain about as whenever I see it, I just grab them and throw them in his room.
Tip of the iceberg: I had told my cousin to do a deep clean of the bathroom, while I clean up the kitchen and living room. I believed it was fair as he has not done a deep clean of the bathroom yet while me and my girlfriend (she does not live in my house, just sleeps here for a few days in a row) has cleaned it once each. We scrub the tub, walls, sweep the floor, mop the floor, clean the sink table and wipe down the mirrors. I had told him Sunday to do it and he told me he was going to do it next weekend with no given reason. I told him to do it whenever he has free time as it only takes about an hour and that he has no other chores as I made a bet with him to which I lost and have to do the dishes for the next 2 months (he claimed that I don’t have to follow through with that bet). I am frustrated because why can’t he complete it within the week? The bathroom is not that hard to clean as it just involves scrubbing and personally the tub is very disgusting. I wonder how did he not just want to be proactive. I personally wanted to wait until he decided to clean it but I waited over a month having the expectation that he wanted to clean it. I remember I bought the curtains for it and I know it will have to be replaced but personally I already know if I tell him to replace it, I would feel cheap and just feel guilty that I don’t want to buy the replacement. To me it’s just the principle of things that if I bought the first one, he buys the next and the cycle continues. He told me that he wants to hold the “big chores” for the weekend but I told him that I have the rest of the chores covered as I already partly cleaned the basement (we had a table full of clothes that we didn’t know what to do.) I cleaned the kitchen, and the living room. All he really had to do was fold his clothes and that’s it. I basically told him that that’s really his only chore that he has. I feel like a butthole just for me to tell him as soon as he can but I know he can wake up early being at 10am to clean it or something and go to work after or when he gets home from work to do work around the house instead of smoking pot and playing video games. If he couldn’t do the chore because of work then he could tell me but instead his immediate answer was “I’ll do them next weekend” not a “I’ll try before the weekend but it may end up being done at that time”. Am I just nitpicking? Should I be easier on him as he never lived alone? I feel like I have to tell him to do stuff around the house.

SOLD
Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/W7asoTN
Brand new, never used. Comes with original case and cloth. Thought I’d use this to help with some consistency between my digital and film shots but never have. Looking for $55 shipped CONUS.
Any questions feel free to ask. Thanks!

Let me preface this with saying I'm from Philadelphia, so I'm used to shitty highways. I'm used to bad drivers. I'm used to staring longingly into the nearest body of water and contemplating driving my car into the murky, traffic-free depths.
But nothing could emotionally, physically, or spiritually prepare me for the Dan Ryan.
I began my drive in Philly at 8am on Sunday, stopping for a couple of hours in Pittsburgh to see the Cubs beat the Pirates before resuming my excursion. Nothing exciting here, the roads were empty, the sky was clear, life was good. Somewhere around Toledo I realized that while my car is a 25-year-old POS, its a POS with a convertible roof, so I put the top down and soaked in the rays for the rest of the journey. This will be relevant later. I meandered my way through Indiana, watching civilization gradually return as I made it closer and closer to Cook County.
And then, like Hannibal when confronted with the Alps, I turned a corner and was arrested in my journey by a near-endless wall of brakelights.
At this point, I'm tired. I'm hungry. I don't want to be sitting in bumper to bumper traffic on Mother's day. Come to think of it, why are you all on the road at 10pm on Mother's day? Go give your mother a hug.
Driving this accursed road left me with more questions than answers. Why, with the frequency of mile marker signs, were there cars abandoned in the left lane? Why does the muffler-less vehicle in front of me insist on flooring the accelerator and slamming on the brakes every time traffic moves an inch? Why didn't I just take public transit?
So here I am, practically parked next to the Sox L stop. Fine. Bad enough. Perhaps I mutter a few choice words at the expense of the highway.
But then it starts to rain. Out of a near-clear sky, one singular cloud begins to drift closer to me. and closer. And suddenly, like the target audience for North Shore Adult Diapers, it began to dump water. We're talking torrential rain, out of a clear sky, localized entirely over a tiny patch of land. And entirely over the fully exposed interior of my car. And over me, my clothes, and the 36 pack of Tastykakes that had dutifully traversed the midwest with me. Now I understand that logically the highway is not capable of complex emotions. I understand that its less likely that the highway heard me tell it to go fuck itself. I understand it's even less likely that a strip of asphalt can control the weather. But dammit, that fucking expressway made it rain out of pure spite.
Dan Ryan had won.
I pity the poor souls given the name Dan, Ryan, (or God forbid both) as their very being will be forever tainted by their association with this most monstrous of roads.
TLDR: I dared to insult the Dan Ryan and it pissed on me.

Okay so. Hi. I’ve posted on these types of subreddits on and off for a minute and the results have been pretty good. Truth be told I’ve met some of my bestest pals online and I love knowing I’m like a click away from someone I can chat with. I love sending and receiving snail mail but maybe we can start with some chats and see how that goes and maybe move to Snapchat or something idk.
Anyways. Me. Well, I’m 38, from BC, Canada close to Vancouver. I work as a clinician in healthcare and have worked in healthcare for 14 years. Previous to that I got my BA in English. I’m a published writer and poet - nothing crazy like novels but a few short stories and articles here and there. I’m also an avid photographer and got my start on the high school yearbook where I was free to be the weird girl dressed in all black lugging around a camera.
On the subject of black clothes, I consider myself a recovering goth. I’d probably fit in with an alternative label but I don’t truthfully see myself that way anymore. I’ve got tattoos but so does just about everyone now a days so whatever - I don’t feel they’re particularly interesting. Same thing with piercings etc
I’ve had people say I’m death obsessed and maybe that’s true. I’ve seen a lotta people die and I think about it a lot. I’m very interested in antiques and vintage items and consider a hobby of mine to be thrifting and I’m on a first name basis with the ladies at a few thrift shops. I’m definitely an aesthete. I love home decor and fashion. I make a lot of clothing and other items. I definitely have a “how hard can it be attitude?”
I’m into animals and have two cats who are useless shitbags who probably should get jobs but they haven’t yet so I’m stuck paying the bills.
I own my own home, I don’t drink any alcohol and haven’t for something like 12 years now. I don’t use any substances recreational or otherwise. If I’m feeling wild and out of control I might share a menthol cigarette with a friend outside a dive bar just for the drama of it all.
I’m an Aquarius, INTJ, if any of that is meaningful to you.
I go through phases and hyperfixations, and some current ones are:

1. High altitude mountaineering. Not that I’d ever do this myself but I love reading about and listening to information about Mt Everest.
   
2. The Chris Watts murder case
   
3. Tudor England
   
4. 1700s France
   
5. Olive Oatman
   
6. How dementia is addressed across cultures
   
7. Why Tom Hiddleston looks like a sickly Victorian chimney sweep
   

Anyways there’s probably more but this post is plenty long. If any of this seems interesting please send me a message.
On and btw, I’m attaching a selfie idk
me on some Flannery o‘Connor shit

Okay so. Hi. I’ve posted on these types of subreddits on and off for a minute and the results have been pretty good. Truth be told I’ve met some of my bestest pals online and I love knowing I’m like a click away from someone I can chat with. I love sending and receiving snail mail but maybe we can start with some chats and see how that goes and maybe move to Snapchat or something idk.
Anyways. Me. Well, I’m 38, from BC, Canada close to Vancouver. I work as a clinician in healthcare and have worked in healthcare for 14 years. Previous to that I got my BA in English. I’m a published writer and poet - nothing crazy like novels but a few short stories and articles here and there. I’m also an avid photographer and got my start on the high school yearbook where I was free to be the weird girl dressed in all black lugging around a camera.
On the subject of black clothes, I consider myself a recovering goth. I’d probably fit in with an alternative label but I don’t truthfully see myself that way anymore. I’ve got tattoos but so does just about everyone now a days so whatever - I don’t feel they’re particularly interesting. Same thing with piercings etc
I’ve had people say I’m death obsessed and maybe that’s true. I’ve seen a lotta people die and I think about it a lot. I’m very interested in antiques and vintage items and consider a hobby of mine to be thrifting and I’m on a first name basis with the ladies at a few thrift shops. I’m definitely an aesthete. I love home decor and fashion. I make a lot of clothing and other items. I definitely have a “how hard can it be attitude?”
I’m into animals and have two cats who are useless shitbags who probably should get jobs but they haven’t yet so I’m stuck paying the bills.
I own my own home, I don’t drink any alcohol and haven’t for something like 12 years now. I don’t use any substances recreational or otherwise. If I’m feeling wild and out of control I might share a menthol cigarette with a friend outside a dive bar just for the drama of it all.
I’m an Aquarius, INTJ, if any of that is meaningful to you.
I go through phases and hyperfixations, and some current ones are:

1. High altitude mountaineering. Not that I’d ever do this myself but I love reading about and listening to information about Mt Everest.
   
2. The Chris Watts murder case
   
3. Tudor England
   
4. 1700s France
   
5. Olive Oatman
   
6. How dementia is addressed across cultures
   
7. Why Tom Hiddleston looks like a sickly Victorian chimney sweep
   

Anyways there’s probably more but this post is plenty long. If any of this seems interesting please send me a message.
On and btw, I’m attaching a selfie idk
me on some Flannery o‘Connor shit

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.