Spoilers ahead…
Dear Karthik Subbaraj,
Congratulations on yet another interesting movie, and for resisting the impulse to name this one, too, after a food item. Iraivi is an unusual feminist film, in the sense that it’s seen entirely through the prism of sympathetic male characters. Your men aren’t monsters who drink or cheat on their wives or subject them to torture. They do these things, yes, but… differently. Arul (SJ Surya) drinks, but only to drown out his sense of failure – he’s a director and his film is in the cans, being held hostage by a sadistic producer. Michael (Vijay Sethupathi) has sex with Malarvizhi (Pooja Devariya), and he continues to lust after her after his marriage to Ponni (Anjali) – I love that all your women have names that suggest classical heroines, including Arul’s wife Yazhini (Kamalini Mukherjee) – but it’s a marriage he committed to in a hurry and he still hasn’t reconciled himself to it. He’s being a bastard, certainly, but he’s not a one-note villain. And the torture they inflict isn’t the stubbing-a-cigarette-into-the-wife’s-bare-arm variety. It’s more mental than physical.
So we get women who are collateral damage – and I include Arul’s comatose mother (Vadivukkarasi), and the nurse who’s not allowed to do her duty – of men being men. They’re being babies, really. Yazhini tells Arul that he should get on with his life, write another story, make another movie. He says it’s like her trying to have another child while still pregnant with their daughter. (Yes, all these men end up with girl children.) He’s a wallower – but maybe all artists are. You like to do that, don’t you Karthik? Even in a film like this, you deliver a commentary about filmmaking and the artist. Why, even Arul’s father is a sculptor, and though we never see him ill-treating his wife (thank you for sparing us the clichés of raised hands and raised voices), we’re informed that he’s responsible for her state. His son’s following the father’s footsteps. Maybe you’re trying to say that the wives of obsessed artists are doomed to become collateral damage. Your films make us think, Karthik, so thank you for that.
All your stories have at their centre a filmmaker, or at least (in the case of your first film, Pizza) a storyteller. And through them, we seem to hear your voice. “Works of art should not be in places where they are not respected.” “Namma padam pesanum, naama pesa koodadhu.” You compare masala movies to a massage with a happy ending. (I laughed, but please don’t judge me when I say I rather like massages with happy endings – I refer to masala movies, of course.) We even get a line of dialogue about Dolby Atmos. (What will the B/C-centre audience make of this, Karthik? But then you don’t really give a shit, do you? More power to you.) And you like your insider jokes. That crass, egoistic producer who does not care about art – he reminded me of the crass producer from your earlier film, Jigarthanda. You like Rajinikanth too. You referenced Thillu Mullu in Pizza, Thalapathi in Jigarthanda, and now you have Arul singing Malayala karayoram, Michael singing Oorai therinjikitten.
Or is that more of an Ilayaraja homage? You like to keep the audience guessing, right? When the Bobby Simha character in Jigarthanda said he was a Shankar-Ganesh fan, it appeared that you were mocking the endless Ilayaraja nods in Tamil cinema, but here you are, doffing your hat to the maestro. “Raja Raja dhaan.” Arul says this… twice. (By the way, which is that nightclub which plays Maanguyile poonguyile? Do let us know.) And the reuse of Unnai thaane – first in a scene between Michael and Malarvizhi; later in a scene between Michael and Ponni – is the kind of Easter egg we come to your films for. Let me list some others, though I’ll probably need to watch the film a second (or third) time to get them all. The name of the bachelors’ quarters is Ambal Mansion – it goes with your theme and title. I didn’t get the bit about the windmills (something connected to the gust of wind that makes the row of cycles fall over in the first scene?), or why you showcased the book of Shanta Shishunala Sharif’s poems. (I confess. I Googled up that name. I can’t remember the last time a Tamil film made me Google something up. Madras, maybe.) And despite your note at the beginning that Iraivi is inspired by the works of K Balachander (he made female-centric films, but I don’t know if I’d call them feminist films), this is really more of an ode to Mani Ratnam, isn’t it? Specifically, Aayidha Ezhuthu. The three men, one of them – the impulsive one – named Michael. The film starting out as Arul’s story, then becoming Michael’s story, and finally Jagan’s (Bobby Simha) story. The finale with the woman on the train. Plus, the arc of the Madhavan-Meera Jasmine plot was essentially about being easily misled (in the case of the man) and becoming collateral damage (in the case of the woman.) And yes, the rain. All that rain. As though the skies were weeping for these women.
Am I digressing, Karthik? If I am, I’m just following your style, which is the opposite of simple and linear. As a result, I find your films longer than they need to be. (You may feel the same about my reviews.) For instance, I did not care for the scene in the nightclub where a director is felicitated. I realise it was there as a last straw for Yazhini, but it felt redundant. But I suppose they couldn’t be any other way, because you like these shaggy-dog stories that you then embellish with novelistic detail. I love the way you introduce your characters, the time you take with them. Our films lay out characters and their relationship to each other the minute we set eyes on them, but you make us wait to know how Arul is related to Jagan and where Michael fits in and so on. And when it appeared that a semblance of a plot was kicking in (something about Arul needing money to buy back his film), I dug out my phone and checked: it was a whole hour into the movie. Borrowing an image from Malarvizhi’s profession (oh wait, she’s an artist too; she’s literally an artist), it’s like daubs of paint slowly forming a bigger picture.
And you really like an expansive canvas. Not only does the crass producer have a brother, you also bring in his wife later on, to conclude a deal he began making. These segments practically form a mini-movie, with another woman left reeling by the actions of her man. Your films have this… density. They’re packed – with characters, with complications, with information doled out in bits and pieces. (A character says, “Un kitta onnu sollanum.” And instead of hearing what he has to say, we cut to someone else.) Take the scene where Michael asks Arul for money he is owed. You just need to get Michael to Arul’s antiques shop, so the next part of the plot can be staged. Arul could have told Michael to collect the money at the shop. Instead, this is what we get. Arul tells Michael to wait for a week, when he can get the 50 lakhs he is owed. Michael says he wants only 10 lakhs. Arul says he has only 8 lakhs, he’ll give the remainder later. Michael goes to Arul’s father, in the hospital. He has only 5 lakhs. And he directs Michael to the shop, to get the remaining 3 lakhs. Your signature intercutting adds to this texture, Karthik. Shots of Michael and Arul’s father in the hospital are intercut with shots of Arul hunting for booze. Shots of Michael and Jagan outside a courtroom are intercut with shots of Arul being consoled by his father. Happenings are stretched and meshed the way they would be in real life, and not compacted according to the page-per-minute requirement of screenplay-writing textbooks.
I could never predict where the film was going (win!), what these people were going to do (again, win!) –though I must admit I found this to be the weakest of your “twists.” The subplot about stealing sculptures, too, I found rather conceit-y, something half-heartedly cooked up to fit with the title and the theme, rather than something plausible, something these people would do. When Michael, here, commits murder, with a hammer, I went, “This mild-mannered chap? Really?” But then, even in Jigarthanda, I wasn’t quite convinced that the characters would do the things they did. They seemed to be puppets of a screenplay rather than credible human beings, whose actions evolve organically from who they are (or at least, who they seem to be).
But even if I am not convinced by the overall trajectory of your characters, I love how fleshed-out they are on a moment-to-moment basis. I loved the scene where Arul barges into Yazhini’s house, after their separation, on the day of her engagement to someone else. In a lesser film, she would have asked him to get out, and he’d have dug his heels in, and she’d have cooled down and… But here, she rushes straight into his arms. And you make us see why. She was frustrated, fed up with him. But she’s also confused. Was she hasty in abandoning this man? Should she move on with another man? Does she even need a man? With just this one scene, you’ve compensated for the underwritten heroine of Jigarthanda. The story arc may be Arul’s, but Yazhini registers as a fully formed character. Similarly, Michael’s arc allows for the delineation of Ponni and Malarvizhi, and through Jagan, we get glimpses of his mother, and possibly of all womanhood as viewed by a compassionate man. And then you say that women don’t need even this compassionate man (poor chap!), that they have to emancipate themselves instead of looking for a penis-wielding emancipator. What delicious irony, given that you begin the film with women talking about marriage, tying themselves to a man!
Or not, in the case of Malarvizhi, who is easily the film’s most interesting character. Her husband is dead, and she doesn’t want love anymore – only sex. When Michael buys her a diamond necklace, she gives it back to him – she can buy her own trinkets, thank you very much. But the character feels shoe-horned into the film, Karthik. I felt betrayed – and I bet she did too – that after a point, she was used simply as a plot device to get Michael and Ponni together, and also to illustrate Michael’s (who is now standing in for all of mankind) hypocrisy. I felt she deserved more. And yet, I appreciated your generosity in fleshing her out like all the others, without judging her. She gets to be the rare woman in Tamil cinema who dumps the man, and the way she lets go of Michael is echoed in the way Arul lets go of Yazhini, with a heavy heart and some playacting. A side effect of the Malarvizhi subplot is the reassurance that Vijay Sethupathi is still interested in making cinema, rather than just massy entertainers targeted at the box office.
Ponni gets a better deal (and Anjali is terrific, raw and expressive in a way she has never been). In a great scene – rather, a set of book-ending scenes – Michael tells Ponni that he was forced to marry her, and she’s going to have to “adjust” to this if she wants to be with him. Much later, she throws the “adjust” word back on his bearded face when he asks her if she slept with someone else. In a different kind of movie, we’d be invited to see this symmetry, stand up and applaud. But you’re too subtle for that, Karthik. Iraivi is your subtlest film. Which is why I winced at the melodramatic lines about men and women, most of which came towards the end. Aan, using the long-sounding vowel, versus penn, with the shorter one – for such a visual filmmaker (this is another outstandingly shot film, less showy than Jigarthanda and probably richer for that), do you really need the crutch of linguistic special effects from another era of filmmaking? Also, when the rest of your film is so allusive, isn’t there another way you can explain the twist without having a character resort to such an inelegant information dump?
And why is it that your films come together more in the head than in the heart? Why are they easier to admire than love wholeheartedly? I used to think it was because your characters are essentially deceitful, self-serving and unsympathetic, so though we were invested in what they did, we didn’t really warm up to them. But here, you have Ponni and Yazhini and Malarvizhi – and they’re still remote. But perhaps this is bound to happen when there are so many people, so many strands, when we don’t follow one person’s simplistic “you go, girl” journey like we do in, say, 36 Vayadhinile? But when the parts are so well-crafted, we don’t complain as much about their sum not adding up to a satisfying whole. I am sure that you will, one day, make that wholly satisfying film, but for now, thank you for these parts. Thank you for the ambition. I felt there were too many songs (some good work by Santhosh Narayanan), but thank you for ensuring that they don’t break character, the way songs usually do when a character speaking in his or her voice suddenly segues into the playback singer’s voice. Thank you for giving us SJ Surya, the actor – I never dreamed he had such a capacity to hold a scene, to hold the screen. Thank you for continuing not to sell out. Thank you for trying to do so much, even if not all of it needed to have been tried. And thank you for making me fight with myself, for not making it easy to decide if you’ve made a “good” film or a merely “okay” film. For now, Iraivi is a fascinating film, and that’s enough.
Sincerely, etc.

I wrote this as a comment originally in another sub, but I needed to rant more vocally and I felt like there’d be some sympathetic ears here.
I work at a gas station, and for some reason that translates into me not deserving nice things in America. I kinda had no idea how much our society fucking hates service workers till I started working here full-time back in January.
It’s honestly kind of fucked: half the people I work with have kids, and have worked here for years. I’m lucky in that I don’t have kids and am able to live with family for cheap rent, but this is very much not the norm at my place of work. We get paid on average between 17.50-19.50 an hour (in CA, where the cheapest rent you can find is a $1300/mo studio), we get to earn 4 PTO days a year (which are not guaranteed to be accepted when I request them, and no designated sick days), our hours are not guaranteed, we don’t have a retirement plan outside of the option to maybe put money into an IRA on our own initiative, and we can and will be let go even for basic mistakes at times (“right to work” my ass, fuck at-will employment). We technically have health insurance, but it’s both expensive and dogshit.
It’s crazy how little we learned from COVID too: if someone at my work gets sick, they usually have to come in. They can’t afford to miss a day, especially considering the CoL here in California. So, what happens is that one person (or their usually small children) will get sick, and then the rest of us also get sick and also have to come into work. Then we handle your food, your cash, your condoms, your cigarettes, your alcohol, and stand much less than 6 feet away from you at a register with no PPE provided.
During COVID, my co-workers (I was in college during COVID) had to come into work because they were ‘essential’. Yet, pretty much constantly we don’t get treated like we’re essential. Probably about 25ish percent of our customers treat us like fucking garbage. I’ve been screamed at before by customers for asking for ID (which is the law for selling tobacco/alcohol here), I’ve been screamed at for taking more than 30 seconds to get to a person in line, and I have had to do stuff that is not in my job description ranging from: administering first aid, playing therapist to people, car maintenance, sheltering people after severe car crashes when the highway patrol drops them off, scaring off meth-heads, and de-escalating potentially violent situations with drunk people who are pissed I can’t sell them alcohol at 3am on a Monday. Honestly, this job isn’t even that bad compared to many other places that employ service workers. If I go online and complain about any of this, I’ll have like, scores of people tell me, “well, you don’t work a real job, what do you expect?”
I’ve even had my own family tell me that my job isn’t a “real job”, and they’re not even assholes.
Personally, my response to anyone that tells me I don’t work a “real” job (and therefore don’t deserve things like a living wage or sick pay) is this: if you really think that, then try not getting gas, going to a grocery store, getting fast food, buying clothes, or any other service that requires service workers. Then tell me I don’t serve a necessary function in society, and don’t deserve benefits.
Edit: Don’t even get me started on our janitorial staff. The things those poor fuckers have to clean up in our restroom 3 times a day are fucking ludicrous. They get paid as much as I do, and have the same benefits. One of our janitors just finished her bachelor’s, and is currently getting her Master’s.
Edit 2: I have 4 associates degrees, and was one year away from finishing my double major at a T10 before I had to drop out due to medical reasons.
Edit 3: I just wanna share one of my co-worker’s experience, because it’s depressing as hell. She’s 26, and has two kids (6 and 2). She splits a small studio with her boyfriend. She works nights and watches the kids during the day, he works days and watches the kids at night. They both drive 40+ minutes to work, and need to upkeep two cars so that they can both get to their separate work spaces. She’s been so sick the last week that she’s hacking up mucus most of the day. She can’t take the day off, or she can’t make rent. She also cleans the coffee pots and other dishes, handles food, and is in close proximity to the rest of us. Naturally, everyone else in my workplace is now becoming sick (including me). The poor thing can wear a mask, but like… Jesus. This is fucking untenable. It’s shameful.

Cigarettes and rebellion have always gone hand-in-hand, and in an age of cigarette packet-sized health warnings, now more than ever, smoking a fag says: 'I do not give a fuck.' But if Brandon Flowers is hoping to strike a seditious pose by sparking up at the start of the interview, it's not going according to plan. The Killers' frontman is on all fours rooting through the junk that carpets the anteroom at the band's rehearsal space. "Has anyone seen my lighter?" he asks, rocking back on his heels. The question hangs in the air while Brandon cocks his head, waiting for an answer like a meerkat listening for a predator. Twenty-five years old and with a delicate bone structure, there's something almost dainty about him. Receiving no response, he returns to his search. "Oh, Jeez," he sighs. "I had it just a minute ago."
It's a scene that emphatically does not suggest a rebel without a cause. The mess isn't helping. The Killers' HQ - an industrial unit sandwiched between a construction supplier and the offices of a housing development just off Dean Martin Drive in West Las Vegas - is ankle-deep in designer clothing. A Dior Homme suit lies crumpled by the door; there's a pile of shoes topped like a sundae by a pair of Marc Jacobs trainers; and anyone wishing to enter the shoebox room the band use as an office must negotiate a mountain of discarded jeans. Many items are identifiable as coming from the wardrobe of Hot Fuss, The Killers' hugely successful 2004 debut album - triple platinum in the UK with two weeks at Number One and five million sold worldwide. Look! There are the shirts, ties and suit jackets they wore when they thrilled Glastonbury 2005 with indie rock anthems Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me. That was the crowning moment of a two-and-a-half year tour that finally concluded in October of last year. It seems that after playing that final date in Miami, they returned to Vegas and shrugged off their image onto the floor of this bland white box.
Now a fine layer of dust covers the dead clothes. The Killers have no further use for white tuxedos on their second album, Sam's Town. Today, Brandon wears a black polo shirt, black pin-stripe waistcoat, black jeans and black boots. Where there used to be a layer of foundation, there is now a beard - an untrimmed beard at that. Dave Keuning (30, guitar), Mark Stoermer (29, bass) and Ronnie Vannucci (29, drums) all echo Brandon's black ensemble. Ronnie has added Aviator shades and a handlebar moustache for a dash of motorcycle cop, Dave's frizzy bubble of hair gives him a Marc Bolan-ish air, and there's something very teenage about Mark's scuffed Vans.
Short of walking around wearing sandwich boards saying, "Our new record is a bit heavier than the last one," The Killers couldn't hope to communicate that message more effectively. And they have gained some musical girth on Sam's Town. The pop hooks that made Hot Fuss so irresistible survive intact - see the ringing guitar riffs on first single When You Were Young - but there's a newfound punchiness, coupled with an epic sweep. The minor-to-major uplifts on Bones are fabulously dramatic, the coda to Why Do I Keep Counting? thrillingly intense. Comparisons to Bruce Springsteen have been made. If they overstate the case a little, they are at leaset qualitatively accurate. The Killers are back and this time it's serious - they've got the bootlace ties to prove it.
"Hey, it says here that Springsteen's headlining Glastonbury next year," shouts Ronnie, who's flicking through the NME. He nods sagely at the page without looking up.
"Really?" asks Dave, nicknamed Crazy Dave on account of his alledgedly volatile nature.
"The Boss is headlining one night, we're playing second on the bill the next night and Kylie's headlining the Sunday," says Brandon, charging like a bull through Michael Eavis' as-yet-unannounced line-up with what subsequently proves to be a characteristic gaucheness.
But that lighter is proving elusive. This being America, none of the people hurrying to-and-fro prepping the world for the release of Sam's Town smokes. Manager Robert Reynolds - Bobby Rey to the band - barks into his mobile, booking his band onto eye-wateringly demanding tours. "We're going to make a lot of money," he cackles to himself before switching calls to make a series of stern pronouncements on legal matters. Dave, Mark and Ronnie disappear for a jam session. Artwork is approved, B-sides are decided on and schedules are hammered out.
"I can't find it," Brandon says, finally. But he's not going to be denied the opportunity to underline The Killers reinvention with a puff of smoke. "Let's go to the gas station. I'll have to buy one. It's too busy to talk here anyway."
+
Brandon's black (of course) Volkswagen Touraeg four-wheel drive is barrelling down West Flamingo Road into town. "I was a bell boy there," he says, pointing out of the driver's window at the stucco facade of the Gold Coast casino. "I was working there when we were signed."
Coming from Las Vegas, it is perhaps inevitable that casinos play a big part in The Killers' story; not only is Sam's Town named after one, it was recorded in one, too.
The band began writing songs while on the road with Hot Fuss, turning up early for soundchecks to run through new ideas. On a trip home to Vegas, George Maloof, a hotelier known for cultivating famous friends, invited them to record the album in the new studio he'd built at The Palms, his flagship hotel-cum-gambling den. When the tour finished in October 2005, they returned to Vegas and spent five month finessing the songs they'd sketched out on the road. Then, in February, they decampled to the third floor studio at The Palms and recorded Sam's Town over 11 weeks.
Producer Flood (U2, Depeche Mode) encouraged them to experiment. They overdubbed, fiddled with synthesizers and played with new equipment. It took them five weeks to get the backing vocals right. The band sang the harmonies, then double-tracked them four times. The end result recalls Queen wondering, "Is this is the real life? Is this just fantasy?" When Ronnie, a trained classical percussionist, brought some kettledrums down, eyebrows were raised; but the fabulously bombastic coda on Why Do I Keep Counting? vindicates his indulgence.
"That's kind of the Ben Hur of the album," he says. He's not wrong. Sam's Town is a record on an epic scale. "Yeah, it has drama," he continues. "But, at the same time, I think it's a little more exposed than Hot Fuss. It's a little more naked. Last time it was about a lot of fictional things." By "fictional", Ronnie means that Hot Fuss wore its predominantly British influences for all to see. Brandon's taste in music is rabidly Anglophile - he constantly references The Smiths, The Cure and Joy Division - and it showed. By contrast, Sam's Town is an unequivocally American record. The lyrical imagery is pure American dream - cars, girls, wide-open spaces and escaping to a better life. "We're burning down the highway skyline/On the back of a hurricane that started turning/When you were young," sings Brandon on When You Were Young. That's the basis of the Springsteen comparisons then, though the lack of pathos more closely recalls another blue-collar rocker from New Jersey - Jon Bon Jovi.
The phrase "this town" recurs throughout the album, and it's always receding into the distance as The Killers escape to a new life. "This town was made for passing through/I never did get along with everybody else," sings Brandon on This River Is Wild. On Read My Mind he "never really gave up on breaking out of this two-star town", while on the title track he offers something of an explanation: "Nobody ever had a dream round here."
"With the first record, there was this feeling that there was this world out there that we didn't know," says Mark later in the day. Before The Killers, he studied philosophy: now he's their quiet one. "We wanted to get out and away from this and be somewhere else. We hadn't had a lot of experience - hadn't travelled much - then we were gone for three years. We didn't sit down and say that we wanted to make a record about how we're glad to be home, but that's what happened naturally."
It's not an angsty record. The Killers have already escaped with Hot Fuss, and, having done so, they view the experience fondly now they're back. There's a mistiness to Brandon's eyes as he explains how the album got it's name.
"Sam's Town is a casino on the edge of Vegas," he says. "I grew up in Henderson, which is out on the way to the Hoover Dam. My mom and dad lived in a trailer park, and my dad used to hitchhike up and down Boulder Highway, which is the only way you could get to Vegas. Sam's Town was the first thing you saw on your way in to town. So, when you're driving down Boulder Highway from Henderson, I always thought you finally knew you were getting somewhere when you saw Sam's Town. It was kind of like a beacon."
"It's not a completely American album," contines Brandon. "We still have our English influence, but we're also from the Wild West. Somehow we've managed to unify all that on this album. it's just such a perfect resemblence of what we are."
At the petrol station, Brandon rummages through the glove box looking for change to buy a lighter. "This is a great album," he says, pointing at Highway Companion, the latest from iconic American rocker Tom Petty. "I've always been a big fan of his. He's such a great American artist."
Yes, Brandon: we get the point.
+
When Brandon finally lights his cigarette, he smokes it awkwardly, like a child mimicking something he's seen the grown-ups doing. However, when he cheerfully admits that, "I feel the same mentally as I did when I was 12," it's not a knowing nod to the fact that he sometimes behaves like a loveably precocious child, but a reference to an unusually comprehensive grounding in pop music at an early age.
When Brandon sings about "this town", he doesn't mean Las Vegas. He means Nephi, Utah or Henderson, Nevada, where he spent his childhood. His parents are Mormon and he is the youngest of six children. "I was a surprise," he says. "I've got a 42-year-old sister." If he was issues about his "surprise" status, he chooses to gloss over them. "It turned out perfect because my brother was a teenager when I was a kid," he says. "He would bring home things like Rattle And Hum by U2 and I would watch it. I remember he bought Live In Dallas by Morrissey. It was always him watching these things, or his door was shut and you'd hear The Head On The Door by The Cure blasting through the house and rattling the walls."
The Killers were formed when Brandon answered an advert Dave had placed in a local paper in late 2002. Dave cited Oasis as a big influence; Brandon had seen them play recently and responded; and, as Dave has said in previous interviews: "He was the only person to reply to my ad who wasn't a complete freak." However, the band was born in Brandon's brothers bedroom.
"His room was like a shrine," enthuses Brandon. "It was a holy place. I wish I could show you a picture of it. It was covered in posters. There'd be a big picture of Elvis wearing a bow tie that just said 'The Smiths' [the artwork for The Smiths 1987 single Shoplifters Of The World Unite]. You had The Cure wearing face paint [the artwork to The Cure's 1985 single In Between Days] - all that kind of stuff. I remember Morrissey being on the cover of the NME, with the halo [from 1985] - stuff like that. You just wanted to know about these people 'cause they were so cool. My brother seemed like such a cool person. But he was a teenager, so he wasn't going to be that nice to me, a kid."
Brandon was fascinated by his brother's collection of music, magazines and posters, but he was denied access to them - officially, at least. "I would sneak in," he says. "I knew he'd be angry if he found out, but I would go in as soon as he left the house." For a long time Brandon was too scared to actually play anything. "That didn't come 'til later. I just used to go in there because I liked it. Then I got to the point where I'd actually take a tape out and put it in. It took more guts to do that."
It was a life-changing moment. "I was ten and the first song I played was Sing Your Life by Morrissey. I remember dancing about to it."
The lyrics to Sing Your Life include the lines, "Sing your life/Just walk right up to the microphone/And name all the things that you love/All the things that you loathe." It's intriguing to wonder what Morrissey makes of the neophyte he inspired with these lines.
Eventually, Brandon inherited his brother's tape collection. "It was around the same time CDs started coming out in a big way. He started buying CDs and gave me his tapes. And that was it: it took off from there. I got a hundred of the best albums - all the New Order, all the Morrissey, all The Smiths, The Beatles. I started buying posters. I went to see The Cure in concert. It was just kind of a continuation of my brother. And it was nice because, though my parents were strict, they were already used to it from him. There was no, 'My dad doesn't understand me,' or any of that kind of stuff. My mum likes The Smiths."
Brandon was 13 and his favourite band was late-'70s/early-'80s American new wavers The Cars, and particularly their jaw-droppingly catchy 1979 single Just What I Needed.
"I wouldn't exist without that song," he says. "That was the one. I remember driving around with my mum when I was 13, and we're living in Nephi - a really small town - and I felt so cool when I put that song on. Like: 'I have something that none of these kids I'm going to middle school with tomorrow have.' That excitement is what music's about, isn't it? That's why I understand the mentality of people that don't like us because we've sold so many records. I used to like it when no one else knew about a band. So I get that - I do."
+
Brandon's first band was called Blush Response. It was never going to work out. Not because he refused to move to Los Angeles with them, but because he is utterly - comically - shameless. He's given to making outrageously boastful statements like: "It's not like the '60s, '70s and '80s now. There are only a few bands around that are really good, that just do it. I mean, there's what, five or six of us?"
For the record, in Brandon's estimation, those bands are Franz Ferdinand, Razorlight, The Strokes, The White Stripes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and, of course, The Killers.
"I don't want people to think I'm lumping myself with other people just to make us sound cool," he says. Really? It sort of sounds like you are. But he just steamrolls through it. "Yeah, but you know what I mean," he says, grinning at his own cheekiness. He's so disgracefully forward you can't help but laugh along with him - Oh you are awful, Brandon! But joking aside, The Killers are the most commercially successful of all the bands he mentions.
Later, back at the rehearsal space, the band run through Sam's Town at deafening volume in preparation for the forthcoming tour - first the US, then the world. The infectious, almost contagious, chorus of When You Were Young sounds fabulous, as do the U2-like guitars and Twin Peaks synths of Read My Mind. Meanwhile, Smile Like You Mean It and Somebody Told Me benefit from the newfound harder edge.
They somewhat heavy-handedly underline the new direction by playing Paranoid by Black Sabbath and Get It On by T Rex. That's the thing: The Killers are not a subtle band. Their songs are like a wet kiss from a girl who's a bit too drunk. They are big and brash, and not everyone loves them for it. Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me might go down as well at hip nightclubs as they do on the festival circuit, but the DJs play them with the same guilty look they wear when playing a pop record.
"I hate that," says Brandon. "Like writing a song you can hum somehow cheapens it? It makes me think of this quote by Morrissey. Everybody knows how he read Oscar Wilde, Keats and Yates when he was growing up and that he wanted to be a writer. He was talking to this journalist who asked why he hadn't become a writer, and Morrissey said: 'What I do is more powerful than what you do because I can write down these words and you get it to a melody. How can you beat that?' I'm of the same opinion. I don't understand why a good melody that's memorable is a bad thing."
Being dismissed as pop particular aggrieves Ronnie. "When we first came out we got compared to Duran Duran all the time. Jesus Christ! We got a keyboard player now all of a sudden he's Nick Rhodes! Come on!"
"The people who criticise us for being too poppy don't get it," agrees Mark. "I think that's the problem with a lot of rock music. People are afraid to write a song any more. Either that or they can't. And that attitude hurts music in general. The best bands ever have all written great songs. You can still do it and do it intelligently and it can be original. This isn't a studio creation with a producer writing these songs for us. We're not Avril Lavigne, or something like that. We're a real band writing real songs, just like a punk band would do, except that we write pop songs."
You get the impression that The Killers knack for showboating pop hooks that border on vulgar is inextricably tied up with the brazen side of Brandon's personality. But while his ebullient charisma, not to mention the songs themselves, mitigates his outrageousness, there is a less attractive side to his ego. He has a combative streak. He can't resist taking pot shots at emo bands, notably Fall Out Boy, whith whom The Killers share an A&R man.
Has he heard how many emo kids it takes to change a light bulb? "No." None. They just sit in the dark and cry. It's a full 30 seconds before he stops laughing. When he does he admits: "Yeah, we've had problems with other bands. You know, when you walk in the room it's like..." He whistles the theme to The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. "We're like gangs."
And while the other members of the band are diplomatic on the subject of Brandon, you don't have to read too deeply between the lines to conclude that there have been internal issues, too.
"Some people will think Brandon's the big genius," says Dave, visibly bridling. "There are songs, such as Why Do I Keep Counting?, where he's written every note. But there are others, like When You Were Young, that were more of a collaboration - like Mr Brightside, where I had some of the music and Brandon came up with the lyrics. We always have arguments about who wrote what. The truth is that we all help in that process."
When asked how success affected them, Ronnie says: "There were certain things that needed adjusting. When you're on tour for two years, people can get a little needy. It doesn't help that you're surrounded by yes men and everybody's working for you. At times we've had to say, 'Who do you think you are?' to people. No one wears the trousers, but some people would like to. I think if it wasn't for the people in the band kicking each other in the ass... Let's just say there was some ass-kickin'."
It doesn't take a genius to work out whose ass needed kicking most often.
+
It's the following day and The Killers are back at their rehearsal space. The topic of discussion is what to wear in the video for Bones, the second single. It's a big deal: the director is Tim Burton. "I feel like Frank Sinatra when I sing it," announces Brandon. "With maybe a little bit of Morrissey and a little bit of Elvis, too."
Of course he does. But if securing the services of Tim Burton tells you one thing, it's that The Killers are about to get even bigger, perhaps even make the leap to the same level as Coldplay et al. Already stars, they are about to become superstars. Brandon can hardly wait.
"Do you know that Rolling Stone didn't want to put us on the cover last time," he says indignantly. "They didn't think we were stars. We sold five million albums! What more do they want from a band?"
Whatever was required, Brandon would be happy to do most things. "I'll do stuff that some people don't want to do, 'cause I want people to hear the music," he says. However, even he has limits. "The Rolling Stone thing made the record label think: 'What can we do to make them stars?' If I go on vacation with my wife, do they have to send somebody to be there to take pictures of me? Is that how you become a star? I don't want that. I walked down the red carpet one time and I realised I don't like it. But you don't have to walk down the red carpet for people to hear your music. We do still have some of that indie blood running through our veins."
He heads off at a tangent: "When you walk around Liverpool, you think of The Beatles, or you go to Manchester and you think of The Smiths or Oasis. I want you to come to Las Vegas and think of Sam's Town. And I think we've started to capture that, which is a truer version of The Killers, 'cause that's where we're from."
He pauses.
"I used to live across the street from Sam's Town. Maybe it'll be like our Abbey Road where people go to take pictures."
Is that what he'd like?
"I wouldn't mind it," he says, desperately hoping it will come true.
He puts a cigarette between his lips, looks down at his trouser pockets and pats them in search of the lighter he bought yesterday.
"Hey, I don't suppose you've got one?"

Hello everyone!
I am a 24 YO male who has had issues with sobriety for the last 5 to 6 years, and am looking for some advice.
This line is for my sister, who encouraged me to post somewhere. Hello Louise (your middle name), I am here.
I wasn't always a drinker. I was very "ew" towards it growing up. I wasn't a pothead or a smoker in my teens, I was actually very against that. I thought cigarettes were nasty smelling and probably tasted as gross as the smelled (they do) and I have seen alcohol was the worst thing in someone's life. My dad was a very violent and abusive alcoholic/addict and it was told to me and my siblings our whole life.
My personal first encounter with a drug (weed) was in high school. I was 18 at the time, and I had always heard it was great, it wasn't that bad, its a gateway drug, the usual. I don't remember the exact day, but i remember the whole experience. It was personally awesome (NOT PROMOTING THE ACT OF SMOKING WEED I NO LONGER DO IT), and I smoked till I was 21, almost daily.
After I was 21, I had a trip to Oregon to get some weed (Its illegal where I live) with my brother, who was under age to buy some. He drove us, and I got 10 grams of cartages for the both of us. As we were driving back, we got pulled over and, long story short, they took the 10 grams of weed and left us with a warning. After this experience, I have never smoked weed since, but I was so used to being under the influence and couldn't sleep without being high or whatever, and went to alcohol. This is where it got really bad,
I drank about 5 beers a day. "That's not a lot, that' some weak stuff!" I drank 4 12 oz 12% cans and a 24 oz 8% can a day. Sometimes even twice a day, and those 12% cans TASTED AWFUL! Sometimes I would do this 2-3 times a day when I didn't work, and then once a day after work too, leading to doing this about 11 times a week just to sleep. After 7 months of doing this, I couldn't take it anymore. I was getting ill, I was feeling like crap, and my kidneys WERE LITERALLY VIBRATING! I needed help. I asked my roommate at the time for some advice, and we came up with some outpatient treatment. I called and we set it up, and I was super confused on why they kept telling me about beds and a room, till I was told at the end of the call it was inpatient. I agreed because I figured it was better than outpatient. On June 9 2022, I was admitted to my inpatient program. I have a journal for that experience, but I loved it there. I had such a good time, I loved everyone I met, and I graduated 28 days later.
After inpatient, I really didn't want to go outpatient, but was encouraged to. I hated it. I was there for about 2 months before I left. I wanted to try drinking again now that I wasn't relying on it for sleep. It was then that I realized I was an addict and I needed help, but I was unsure where I could go. I hated going to AA, I felt like a disappointment to my family, and I was having a hard time at work (not because of drinking again). I was falling apart, and I have been since. My roommate has moved out, and now I live alone. I am doing this shitty lifestyle and I can barely afford it, yet sometimes I need it. My insurance covered most of the inpatient bills, and all of the outpatient bills, and although my work has been super supportive of me and my "recovery", I don't have the heart to tell them I am a fucking loser who messed up just to end up fired.
I have been having some super strange withdrawals since I started drinking again in late 2022. The most memorable are inability to sleep, and something I looked up and discovered called a "Brain Zaps". I first had these a little before I turned 24, and before I stopped messing with hard alcohol. I've never had a seizure, but this feeling is ABSOLUTLY TERRIFYING when trying to sleep (the only time I get it). All would say my birthday in 2022 was my relapse, but I would disagree (on a personal level, not logical). I used it to sleep, and I was able to stop at least 1-2 weeks since. This next part was my version of a relapse,
See, I started drinking when thought I needed it to sleep. I needed to be intoxicated to get rest, and now that I no longer needed it (and if I did it always took 1-3 days of restless nights to get over), I drank to not be bored, to have more fun playing games, because I was alone. I was about a week sober by December 23rd 2023, and I was asked at work if I am stalking someone. I was shocked and confused, and I took that to heart. That night lit the fire, that night started the engine, that night brought it back. I wont get too much into myself, but trust me when I say I would never do that. I was mentally destroyed. Why was I being asked this, What did I do to deserve this? What the actual fuck?
I drank for over a month straight. I do not fuck with hard liquor anymore, it was just my 5 8% tall boys. or more, a day. I fell into a massive depression. Again not getting into it, but it ended up resolving, but I wasn't okay. I was never going to be working with the same person I was accused of doing suck a DISGUSTING action against, I had to leave the store (and I have just this week [of 5-15-24])
I have talked to my mom, and my sister, and I am not sure what else to do. I know i NEED to get out of my comfort zone and just do what I dont want to, but I know FOR A FACT AA is NOT FOR ME. I cant do it, I cannot handle sitting there and grasp the idea that nothing other than god can save me. I am an athiest, I do not believe in that stuff. I have been told your Higher Power can be a door knob, but I cant grasp that idea. Its not me. the 12 steps are not for me, and I know this for a fact. Maybe there's a chance I could be wrong, but I don't think so regarding this.
I am asking for some help. I don't know what to do beside just let it take my life before I take my own. I am not my dad, I am a nice and functional alcoholic, but I don't want to drink so much. At this point, I have seriously been thinking about suicide, just to stop myself being a menace to myself. I have asked for money to help with bills, but never for a high. I would rather suffer though withdrawals than ask for money for beealcohol, I am a nice (I think) guy who has issues.
I should include a TLDR, but I really don't know how to with this.
thank you for reading
Edit: I am sadly tipsy and will read comments in the morning, I don’t like messaging while drunk. While I am a nice guy, I am super honest, I wanna be honest sober.

Hi friends!
I originally wanted to wait until I could see the results of my experiment, but due to this sequence of unusual events, I am standing before you here today. Recovering.
My disodium EDTA finally arrived yesterday, and I got some sodium carbonate from the drug store to up the pH levels, as Ducky Queen once pondered. (On that note, does anyone else miss our queen? I've been thinking about making a post about that.)
I got my bowl out, my distilled water, my stirring chopstick, and went to town. Quite nervous, might I add. I also got pH strips! Finally. I'm still sulking over my old ones going to the store to buy cigarettes and never returning, but we all have to move on.
After one teaspoon of EDTA, the water had a pH of about 5. Adding several more, the pH stayed at ~5. A teaspoon of soda brought it to I'd say about 6, along with a decent amount of fizzling, sizzling foam. Another tsp lifted it to 7, another two to somewhere between 7 and 8. 8 was the number I had had in mind (as EDTA works best in alkalinity), but I decided it was good enough.
I added it to my hair as I always do, and was greeted by a very familiar pain. Of citric acid. Oh, how I haven't missed thee. Even with a controlled pH level, it hurt me. This is, in my opinion, very likely influenced by my already sensitive scalp. Sigh. Oh well. I slung my veteran towel around my shoulders with my hair in a shower cap, and sat like that for three hours. During this, I kept noticing that my roots had dried. Lol. This is inexplicably funny to me. What an issue to run into! Let me tell you, I've never experienced that with citric, even when my hair was already at the stage it is now (with esp my roots drying more quickly than ever). I don't know what to make of it (and again, I wish my queen was around!), but I ended up using a spray bottle à la Sea and continually wetting my hair with it. (It dried a lot.)
Finally, washing time came, and boy was I glad. My hair felt very grainy as the EDTA hadn't dissolved all the way (apparently, it does that). Gosh there was a lot of foam. I rinsed and rinsed and it wasn't getting any less. What an odd experience to have. Reminded me of that prank where a guy in the shower kept getting shampoo squirted on his head by his mate and freaked out over not being able to wash it out.
My hair felt weird to me too. I'm used to getting a sort of dry feel with citric, as understandably it dries it out. This felt dry too, but in a different way. I can't really put it into words. The scent was something I'd describe as sterile, almost medicinal. I'm positive every single person here has smelled this before. Perhaps akin to what you might smell in a pharmacy.
I thought at some point that clearly, my shampoo efforts had not been enough, and since I didn't want to relive needing to wash my hair again when realizing it wasn't quite clean only when it was almost dry, I went in for a second shampoo.
Oh my. I shouldn't have. First, my hair felt exactly the same to me after that second shampoo. Or shall I say during, as it would. Not. Wash. Out. And there was so. Much. Foam. Somehow, one squish of shampoo did my entire head, instead of needing 4 or 5 at least. My entire head! Then, after my first rinse of shampoo #2, I found myself scooping out the foam from my bowl with my hand. I'd call that insane. And again with the experience of rinsing and rinsing, and am I really getting anywhere? Didn't feel like it. I couldn't see the bottom of my sink from all the foam, lol. I ended up using I reckon nearly 3x as much water as I normally do. Did I get all the shampoo out, at least? Uhhh... I'm pretty sure I didn't, lol. I'm used to some (air) bubbles being in my final rinse, and something that looks like skin flakes, but I'm not sure what they really are. But this time, there was (comparatively) just a lot of product left, something that didn't look like air bubbles. I just couldn't take it anymore. My neck hurt. I was exhausted. I wanted to be done already. (I'd say I got more than 90% out though. I think that's something.)
And all this took me 1h2min. When usually, I'm all done and neat and shiny within 30min. As in, often it takes me less, including making sure my bathroom is as nice and shiny as I am. Everything put in its place, the mirror wiped down, the sink clean, my bowl returned to its home. It's a nice experience for me, usually.
So yeah, these are my first impressions of disodium EDTA in my hair. I'd love to hear your thoughts and engage with you over this. Maybe Ducky will hear my cries and return, like Glinda the Good Witch when Dorothy most needed her. I hope you enjoyed reading this. I had a lot of fun writing it, so at least some good came from that fever dream that was my evening.
ETA: A couple of things!
I meant to mention that while the EDTA mixture was sitting in my hair for 3h, my scalp was itching like crazy. Not sure what that was about.
After citric, I often experienced very crunchy-feeling ends after washing it out, requiring a second wash (with shampoo) to become soft and hairlike again. This time, with EDTA and after shampooing twice, my entire bottom hair feels like that, from my shoulders to my tips. Combing it felt like combing out hairspray that's not meant to be combed out.
I cannot possibly be arsed to shampoo again right now, so I just added an imo rather large amount of MCT. I did that once before after citric (adding oil instead of actually shampooing) and I remember it being okay (maybe not great? can't remember. but livable).
My hands were very, very, very dry after washing my hair yesterday. And not the kind of dryness that would come from wateshampoo exposure. Also, my hair felt... grimy I would say? It still does. I'm talking about from my shoulders to my ends only. When trying to comb it, that grime got onto my comb, which now needs to be cleaned (as in, whatever it is doesn't just fall off). When I touch my hair, my hands feel like that too afterward.
Not sure what to make of it. I talked about product left in my hair earlier, but I was referring to the sections that weren't easy to dip into my bowl (like the back of my head). My lengths seemed clean, as in the water stayed clear when I swished them around in it and when I squeezed it out afterward.
Sigh. I don't understand it. What I do understand though is that apparently, I have a good amount of chelating ahead of me. I'll feel lucky if this just regards the lower parts of my hair, lol. I'll give it that though: EDTA does pack one hell of a punch.

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.

LONG POST WARNING
Hello everyone,
My partner (24F) and I (25M) returned home from our 3-week Japan trip last week and due to us using this sub a lot during our planning I thought it would be helpful for other current planners to upload a trip report.
Our main interests are Japanese traditions and history, street style/culture, and food so keep reading if these interests are mutual. Read to the bottom to see how much we spent plus some tips and disappointments.
Prelude
We were caught up in the madness at Dubai airport during our layover. Long story short; Airport (and the rest of Dubai) flooded and caused all the flights to be cancelled. What was meant to be a 5-hour layover turned into a torturous 36 hour wait. No staff to be seen, crowds of people arguing, fighting, and crying. We queued for 12 hours to get a new boarding pass for the next flight to Japan. We were meant to fly to Haneda but settled for Narita as we needed to get out of that place as soon as possible but still ended up missing our first day in Tokyo (should have had 5 days). We can’t complain too much as some of the people I spoke to on emirates were in the airport for up to 5 days before getting a flight back to their departure destination. Oh, and our baggage was missing with us only receiving our checked in bags on day 19. Cheers Emirates.
Day 1
Arrived in Shinjuku around midnight. We went straight to Don Quiojte to buy some replacement cosmetics and clothes. The combination of no good-quality sleep for 48 hours and the stimulating nature of the store was very intense! We then started to walk back towards the hostel and passed a Ichiran, so dropped in for some 2am ramen. Not the best ramen I’ve ever had but was still very good for the price.
Steps: 21,643 (includes some airport steps)
Day 2
Woke up and ate the free breakfast at the hostel (this turned out to be a really good money saver for the whole trip as we are not huge eaters in the morning anyway, but it was good to get something light in us before a long day walking). We then walked through the Shinjuku Gyoen Garden – saw some late blooming cheery blossoms and overall, it was a really beautiful botanical garden.
The next stop was Meji Shrine and a walk through Yoyogi park. The shrine was cool to see, especially as it was our first one in Japan. Saw a middle-aged man wearing denim hotpants so short that his balls were hanging out?!?!
Walked to Shibuya to see the scramble. This was cool but also felt it was a bit underwhelming at ground level but the view from Shibuya station walkway was wicked. Lunch was at a conveyor belt sushi place on the top floor of this department store right next to the scramble. This would be higher than average quality sushi in Europe, so it blew our minds that it was available on the top floor of a department store and for so cheap.
Shimokitazawa – We picked up some bargains at 2^nd street and I treated myself some Japanese jeans from a small Demin shop called Bears. The guy in the shop was super helpful and friendly and even tailored the trousers to exactly my size.
In the evening, we first had a poke around Golden Gai and then headed towards Shibuya and stopped in a cool bar where the owner was mixing vinyl while he mixed your drinks (think it was called Q Bar).
We had previously bought tickets to a gig at Circus for one of my fav rappers who I’d been wanting to see for a while. Also really enjoyed seeing the local Japanese warm up acts. Stayed until 5am and then go the train straight to the Tsukiji outer fish market. Was there way too early and had to wait roughly an hour for thing to open. Went to chill by a bench for a bit and by the time we went back to the market it was rammed! Went to bed around 8:30am.
Steps: 32,159
Day 3
We woke up at 2:30pm, got ready, and headed to the Bunkyo civic centre for the free observation deck. We heard it wasn’t meant to be the best Tokyo skyline view but for a free attraction we thought it was very good! Jimbocho book town was also very cool to see. We had a peak into a couple adult movie/magazine stores where I don’t think the owner appreciated our presence as western tourists.
In the evening, we first went for Ramen at Motenashi Kuraki in Asakusa Bashi. Honestly probably the best Ramen I’ve had to date. I ordered the Black Pepper Shio special, and it blew my mind. Even though the staff didn’t speak English they were very accommodating for my partner who doesn’t eat meat (pescetarian but will brave a meaty broth).
We then had a stroll around Akihabara and played some dance mat games in the arcades before heading back for an earlyish night.
Steps: 28,680
Day 4
I couldn’t sleep so got up around 3am and did some admin stuff to try and get our bags back to us ASAP. Chatted to people in the hostel for a few hours.
We arrived at Senso-ji for around 8am. Wasn’t too busy at this time and the temple was impressive. Went for a coffee down the road and had a chill for about an hour before heading into Asakusa. Got admission to the Drum museum which was wicked. Only 400 yen each and had the whole place to ourselves to smack some big fucking drums and make as much noise as we wanted.
We then started to head towards Ueno but made a slight detour to Kappabashi Dougu street to peruse the Japanese chef knives and other cookware. Grabbed lunch from a 7/11 and went and sat in Ueno park which was super busy. There was some food market event on which loads of food stalls had set up. There was also a stage with some J-pop performers and people dressed as ninjas dancing in the crowd. Weird to say the least. By mid-afternoon we were pretty tired so headed back to the hostel for a nap.
In the evening, we headed down to Harajuku and stopped by Big Love records. My partner is really into vinyl, so this was definitely a highlight for her. She picked up Wu Tang 36 chambers in case you were wondering. We then went for food at Afuri as my partner wanted to try the Vegan ramen to which she said it was ok but nothing special. My cold dipping noodle dish was very tasty, however. We then stumbled across this vinyl listening bar called Bar Music on the 5^th floor of this pokey building on the outskirts of Shibuya for a few drinks before bed. There was such a good vibe in there and the cocktails were super good for the price. If you’re looking for a romantic spot, then this is the place to go.
Steps: 31,818
Day 5
Today we headed to Kyoto on the shinkansen around midday after a slow morning chilling in and around the hostel and catching up on some sleep. Checked in to the hostel and had a walk around downtown Kyoto, stopping at 2^nd Street to buy some more clothes.
In the evening, we headed to Kodai-Ji to see the shrine lit up at night. We couldn’t believe how few people were there as it was stunning and truly magical place to be at night. It also has a bamboo grove (much better than Arashiyama, see below). The bar for Kyoto shrines/temples had been set very high.
Walked down Pontocho alley and stopped at a yakitori restaurant which was just ok. We knew it was going to be average when we looked around the restaurant and it was just western tourists dining.
Steps: 25,255
Day 6
First thing in the morning we rented bikes and cycled across the city to Arashiyama. Parked the bikes at the train station and walked up through Arashiyama. We were expecting it to be busy but there were so many people it was almost impossible to move. Had a look around the bamboo grove and was slightly underwhelmed after our visit to Kodai-Ji so we took the tram and then bus up to Kosan-Ji. This was very much worth the 45-minute journey as there was only one other group there and the temple nestled between the trees overlooking the river was breath-taking. On the whole, Arashiyama was way too packed during peak times to enjoy and with everything else Kyoto has to offer we wouldn’t say it was a must see.
We then picked up the bikes from the train station and cycled back across Kyoto taking the long route to explore and get lost. Once we dropped off the bikes, we went for another explore and this time went into WeGo for more clothes shopping. At this point we’d pretty much matched the amount of clothing that we had packed in our checked-in luggage that was still stuck in Dubai.
After a nap we walked towards the metro and stopped at a Katsu restaurant as we wanted to try something different, and it was pretty good. For the price of 1300 yen each we got so much food/sake and left stuffed.
Fushimi Inari in the evening. Like Kodai-Ji, we would recommend visiting Fushimi Inari at night. Firstly, to help avoid the crowds (we got there around 9pm and there was hardly anybody there) and secondly as seeing it lit up at night is a nice change. It was however slightly creepy at night, especially as it was lightly raining. My partner started to get a bit scared once we saw the signs to be careful of the wild boar and monkeys haha. We didn’t make it to the top of Mt Inari as the rain started to get heavy but still very much enjoyed walking through the hundreds of tori gates, stopping off at the shrines and soaking up the history.
Steps: 23,686
Day 7
Today was a late start as even after 8 hours sleep the 25k plus steps a day was starting to catch up with us.
We took the metro to Shimogamo Shrine in north Kyoto. It was very peaceful and quiet however temple fatigue had definitely set in at this point. We then walked through Kyoto to the beginning of Philosophers path. We had seen on this sub that people recommend skipping it unless its Sakura season however we disagree. The path along the river is so pretty and atmospheric, along with the fish gently swimming along in the river.
Kyoto Hand Crafts Centre – if you have the money then this is a great place to pick up souvenirs.
Pre-booked Sushi Iwa for a 15 course Omakase. The food was amazing, but it came to an eye watering 28k yen each. The difference for our western palettes between mid-range sushi and exceptional sushi is negligible. Nonetheless it was a good experience and I’m glad that we did it.
Steps: 23,751
Day 8
Today was an empty day in terms of things we wanted to do, so used it to walk the city and explore.
We checked out the Nishiki market and ate various fried foods on sticks which were all pretty tasty. We then walked northwards, stopping for coffee before reaching the imperial palace. By this point we were very much bored of temples and structures of similar architecture, but we actually ended up enjoying walking the palace grounds and seeing the buildings more than we thought and would recommend it to those who find themselves in north Kyoto.
A leisurely walk back down towards downtown Kyoto, stopping off at a wicked standing soba joint. Forgotten the name but their curry soba was delicious.
Chao Chao gyozas (only veggie gyoza place we could find) for our evening meal before a night cap at the bar across the road before bed.
Steps: 23,304
Day 9
Shinkansen to Hiroshima arriving around 11am.
Checked into hostel and then went straight to the A-dome, peace memorial and museum. We thought the museum was very moving and captured the horror of the events that unfolded very well. A must see for sure.
Okonomiyaki at Okonomimura and then some vintage clothes shopping in Hondori.
Went back out for food in the evening and ended up getting Okonomiyaki again. This time it we enjoyed it a lot more than we did at lunch (probably because we got it covered in cheese). There are a few streets by Hiroshima station with lots of bars and restaurants on top of each other, much like Golden Gai in Shinjuku, however they are not super touristy and has a more laid-back feel to them.
We then went to some bars in the city centre. The best one we stumbled across was called Tropical Bar Revolucion. It was on the 8^th floor and the smoking balcony overlooked the city. Plus, the beers in there tasted so good and I’m not sure why.
Steps: 23,299
Day 10
A hungover morning. Headed to the Hiroshima National Gardens. Going to some gardens is my go-to hangover activity as its low effort, relaxing, and feels productive. These gardens in particular were great and we really appreciated the signs explaining the history behind the space. Overall, we enjoyed this more than the national gardens in Shinjuku.
Public baths near Dobashi in the afternoon. If you’re feeling brave enough to get your kit off in front of 10s of strangers, then this is a good experience. Male and female baths are separate. Can’t go wrong for 400 yen.
Went for a drink at Bar Pretty and then realised the effect of golden week on trying to get a table walking into a restaurant. Walked around for about an hour with no success so settled for food from a department store food court. Sounds miserable but the food was pretty good for the price, and it was busy in there, so it still had an atmosphere.
Steps: 29,487
Day 11
Miyajima Day. Took the ferry to the island arriving at 10:30am. The Ryokan staff met us at the port and collected our bags to take back to the hotel.
Had a mooch around the port area before doing the hike up Mt Misen. The climb to the top on a hot day is not to be underestimated. Sweating buckets, but the route and the view from the top was amazing and one of the standout highlights of the whole trip.
After descending Mt Misen, we bought some beers, oysters and, ice cream and sat along the beach wall and chilled in the sun for a couple hours. The hotel staff then picked us up from the ferry terminal, we checked in and went straight to the Onsen for a couple hours before dinner. Dinner was a traditional kaiseki meal (with more courses than I can remember) served in the banquet hall with the other guests.
While the staff converted our retro ryokan room and set up the futons we had a few more beers before bed.
Steps: 20,803
Day 12
Today we had a chilled morning on the island, having a stroll and stopping for some coffees. We then took the ferry back to Hiroshima, stopping for Okonomiyaki one more time, before taking the shinkansen to Osaka.
Checked into our hostel near Namba and went out for a walk around 8pm. When looking for somewhere to eat we walked past a sign for a vegetarian Indian restaurant called Shama. After nearly two weeks of pure Japanese food we were craving some variety so decided to head in. Located on the basement floor of a particularly run down looking building the restaurant was not the most glamorous. Barely enough space for 10 people, it was hot in there. A constant stream of people was coming in and out of the restaurant and we were lucky enough to walk in when there were two spaces available. From sitting down at the table to receiving our food we waited just under an hour. This would be enough to put most people off but fuck me the food was good when it did finally arrive. We got a selection of 4 different curries, naan breads and samosa. We left stuffed. If you’re in the area this is definitely a place worth checking out.
Steps: 25,502
Day 13
Our first stop of the day was the Umeda Sky Building. Not suitable if you are scared of heights as the glass elevator made our stomachs drop slightly. The views were impressive but we thought the price was a bit steep at 1500 yen each.
We then spent the afternoon wondering about near Namba and Shinsujibashi dropping into shops and picking up some food.
For dinner we made a reservation for a Mexican restaurant near Dotonbori. Massive margheritas, nachos and enchiladas. The food was great, and it shows by how busy the place was still at 10pm. It had been open since the late 70’s with the décor to match and it had a great atmosphere.
Steps: 27,290
Day 14
Checked out Tsuruhashi and Korea Town. Loved the market – dimly lit maze of numerous food and clothing vendors. Stopped to have some Korean stew and pancakes and it was delicious. One of the best meals of the trip.
Shinsekai in the evening. What I can describe as the armpit of Osaka. We loved it. Dirty? Yes. Rowdy? Yes. Rough around the edges with a red light district to top it all off. We had Kushikatsu to finish the evening off. Fried stuff on a stick – of course it going to be tasty but it wasn’t exactly flavour town.
Steps: 23,777
Day 15
Took the train to Minoh and hiked up the trail to see the waterfall. Hike was easy in comparison to Mt Misen and the waterfall was very cool to see. Had a wonder around Minoh stopping for some lunch at a Ramen bar.
We went to the Team lab botanical gardens in the evening. It was very awe inspiring seeing all the installations lit up.
After sampling Japanese McDonalds (I had a burger where the buns were made out of rice) we went for some drinks at Zerro. We liked this bar a lot, the guys working there were very friendly and it had a good vibe.
We then sat and watched the skaters at triangle park with some beers from the konbini before going to see Dj Masda at Circus until around 4am. This area of Osaka was such a vibe and came back here a few times over our 6 days here. Overall, a very fun evening.
Steps: 26,130
Day 16
Woke up chronically hungover but powered on and went to see a baseball game. You’re allowed to bring food and drink into the stadium (as long as alcohol is in plastic/paper cups) so we grabbed some beers and snacks from family mart. We had no idea what was happening but the atmosphere was electric and we enjoyed getting pissed and cheering.
Had a nap and then went to Hafez for middle eastern food. The food was good but not amazing, nothing in comparison to my local middle eastern restaurant back home. Chilled around the Namba park/Big step area. Loved this area so much, we are big into street fashion and culture so this place really ticked some boxes. Lots of skaters and street wear stores concentrated around here. Got an early night watching Battle Royale back at the hostel.
Steps: 22,065
Day 17
Today we went to the Umeda area. Popped into some shopping centres and had Omurice for lunch. It was tasty but not something I will crave when back home. Good experience trying it though. We then walked through Yodoyobashi along the rivers and got gelato and sat in the rose garden. The sun was beating down and we enjoyed just chilling in the sun eating our ice cream.
Compufunk Records were holding a party in their store. Decent gaff with some very welcoming and kind people to party with until the early hours.
Steps: 21,267
Day 18
We reluctantly left Osaka for Hakone today. Very sad to go but onwards to the next adventure. Took the shinkansen to Odawara and then the Hakone Tozan Train to Gora. Checked into our Ryokan and relaxed in the Onsen for a few hours.
Went for a walk around Gora and had dinner at the Ryokan before watching Predator in bed.
Steps: 16,926
Day 19
Today we did the Hakone Loop, starting early in Gora.
Started with the Open-air museum and it was great. We loved the installation and ended up spending 3 hours slowly making our way round. Got some cool photos as well for the gram.
Ropeway to Lake Ashi. This was absolutely terrifying. You have to swap cable cars 3 times on the way over and the warnings of the service being suspended due to the wind was announced at each stop. I’m not going to ruin the surprise, but one section made me literally freeze in terror due to the winds outside so try to do it on a calm weather day.
We then took the pirate boat (bit underwhelming) across the Lake and stopped for some soba noodles and a wander around. Unfortunately it was way too cloudy to even get a chance at seeing Mt Fuji.
Train to Kamakura and checked into our super cute traditional hostel near the beach.
Dinner at an Izakaya from the hostel owners recommendation. Food great and beers slipped down a treat. First time I tried Yuzu Kosho as well – I’m now addicted to the stuff and literally cover all my food with it.
Steps: 19,512
Day 20
A slow start to the morning. Weather was pretty bad but we still managed to hit all the main sights in Kamakura. Big Buddha was a refreshing sight from the temples. Did some shopping up Komachi Dori. Highlight of the day was Hukokaji temple. It was so peaceful and zen in the rain with its very own matcha tea ceremony backdropped by bamboo forest. This turned out to be our second favourite temple/shrine we visited, just being beaten by Kodaji.
In the evening we went for Sushi at a conveyor belt place. Figured this would probably be my last Japanese sushi of the trip so devoured 7000 yen worth of sushi and beer. Went back to the hostel and invited some of the other guests to drink with us. The owner of the hostel had some bayberry homebrew, so we got stuck into that.
Steps: 20,494
Day 21
Enoshima Island is just a 25 min train from Kamakura. Started off the day by walking to the top of the island to get French toast and a beer with a lovely view across the bay. We then headed up the Sea candle to check out the observation deck, still the illusive Mt Fuji hides behind the clouds.
We then bought admission to the caves beneath the island which was pretty cool. I won’t ruin the surprise but there’s something waiting for you at the end of one of the caves.
Had an explore around the rockpools near the caves and took some cool photos. We then had a pizza with fish on which was pretty crazy. Walked around the island a little bit more and I picked up some more Japanese denim which wasn’t the cheapest but the quality of the trousers are great and will last me a lifetime.
Back to Tokyo in the evening.
Went for Izakaya around Asakusa and popped into a couple bars. One was called Not Suspicious and the whole bar was covered in handwritten notes by patrons. Very touristy but quite cool at the same time. Our favourite was a drawing of Mario saying It’s a Me Muthafucka.
Steps: 25,903
Day 22
First stop was Don Quiojte to pick up some Yuzu Kosho (if you know you know) and weird flavoured KitKats.
Kappabashi Dougu street to purchase a fine Japanese carbon stell Santoku. Honestly in love with this knife so much. The people at the store were very happy to hear exactly what I was looking for and even let me try before you buy on some daikon radish.
While in Asakusa I had to return to the place where I put the best thing in my mouth in Japan. Motenashi Kuroki. Switched it up this time and had their classic Shio ramen plus the duck rice as a side. Honestly this place is amazing, and you have to go there if you have time. They aren’t veggie/pescy friendly so my partner went for one last round of sushi round the corner. We met up at a massage chair parlour and spent 30 mins relaxing in the chairs.
We had a bright idea to watch the sunset one last time so headed over to the rooftop park on a department store in Shibuya. Sipping on an ice cold Kirin, the sun slowly dropped behind the distant mountains and we knew our trip had come to an end. How symbolic.
Flight at 11pm from Haneda.
Steps: 23,187
On reflection:
I honestly think this trip was almost perfect in terms of hitting our interests and travel style. There was a good balance of doing the typical first time visit to Japan sights and activities while still exploring and seeing what we came across in the moment.
It hard to pinpoint exact highlights of the trip as everywhere we visited had so much going for it in different ways. We loved the rugged and trendy vibe to Osaka, and I think this would be the city I would most want to live in for a considerable amount of time (If I had to choose). Miyajima was also stunning and a great overnight trip with the Ryokan experience. We also underestimated how much we would enjoy Kamakura with its laid-back surfer vibe and access to Enoshima Island.
One random memorable moment that has stuck with me was when we landed at Narita airport, we took the limo bus to Shinjuku. As the driver pulled away, all the staff at the station turned and bowed in unison. It felt so special to first observe a culture totally opposite to the one I grew up with and was at this point I knew I had embarked on the trip of a lifetime.
If I could go back and change something I would probably miss out Hakone and do an extra day in one of the major cities. This isn’t because we didn’t enjoy Hakone, but we feel like it’s a place that needs more time to soak in what’s going on around you (plus the weather was bad when we were there). This being said the Open-Air Museum was amazing and we enjoyed it more than the Teamlab botanical gardens so the trip up the mountains was worth it just for that.
So, how much did we spend per person (not inc flights)?
Accommodation - £765pp
Given that we spent a couple nights in Ryokans raising the average price slightly, we were pretty happy with the accommodation costs. We stayed in a mix of private room and shared dorm hostels and pretty much all of them were spot on. Travelling as a couple meant that anywhere with a private room split the price between 2. The only hostel we didn’t like was the one in Hiroshima, there wasn’t anything in particularly wrong with it, there was just a really bad vibe from the owner and other guests.
Transport - £344pp
This includes shinkansen to and from all the major cities as well as our suica top ups for metros and buses. Unless your itinerary is something like 3 days Tokyo, 2 days Osaka 2 days Kyoto then there really isn’t any point getting the JR pass now that the price has increased.
Activities – £280pp
It is hard to give an exact amount for activities and food as 1) I didn’t track what we spent our cash on and 2) my partner and I would take in turns paying for things like temple admission. That being said I’ve allocated 25% of the cash we spent to activities such as temple admission. Activities includes our baseball tickets plus club entries as well as temple and museum admissions etc.
Food – £962pp
As above, its hard to give an exact amount for food. On the whole we tried to eat cheap with possible, especially at the start of our trip. There were a few expensive meals peppered in plus we ate out twice a day towards the end of our trip as we realised we were under budget.
The total is a bit skewed as this includes all the alcohol we bought in bars as well as the konbini trips for beers and cigarettes. I estimate that booze accounts for around a third of the total per person. If you would like to do Japan on a budget, reducing the booze will make a big difference.
Shopping/Souvenirs/Gifts – £607 (just me)
We went hard with the shopping. We didn’t actually receive our checked in luggage until day 19 so we had to buy all new clothes and cosmetics. If this wasn’t the case, then I don’t think I would have spent so much (airline is comping us for the additional clothing bought anyway). I also bought a fairly expensive chef knife and Japanese denim pieces, plus lots of gifts for friends and family. Obviously, this number could theoretically 0 if you are on a serious budget and did no shopping but I really underestimated Japanese shopping, especially thrifting. Also, given our cheap choices when it came to accommodation we could afford to splurge. However just to note my partner spent less than half than I did on shopping.
Total: £2958 (582,628 yen at time of writing)
I kept within my budget of £3000. I definitely got a bit frivolous with the cash in the last few days or so, if being as careful as I was towards the start of the trip, I think the total would be closer to £2500.
Disappointments
Takoyaki. We thought it was going to be all about the octopus but were disappointed with our balls of sloppy goo surrounding tiny chewy pieces of octopus. We tried it twice and couldn’t get behind it. Sorry Takoyaki fans.
Arashiyama. Way too busy, especially around the main station and bamboo grove. If it’s the bamboo you are going to see, then Kodaji is a much better spot.
Dotonburi. Albeit we were there in golden week, and it was pretty busy. However, I get the feeling this area has fallen to the past its golden days title and has become a bit of a cash cow for places selling spiralised potatoes on a stick. The area around Namba park was a better option for us.
Tips
Konbini. Absolute life saver for snacks and drinks on the go. The food quality for a convenience store is higher than most other countries so we had no problem with grabbing a meal from one to help keep within our budget.
Don’t over pack – even though we didn’t get our checked in bags, I still packed light so had plenty of space to bring stuff back. Emirates give you your allowance by weight rather than number of baggage so we could check in additional bags on the way back.
Don’t be scared of hostels. If you don’t want to brave the shared dorms, then most hostels offer private rooms with just the shower and toilet shared. Obviously, it’s cheaper if there are two people sharing a room.
Don’t stress about cash. Most places take debit/credit card and if they don’t, you’re never more than 5 minutes from a konbini ATM.
For us, golden week didn’t seem that big of an issue. No problems booking shinkansen around GW. We spent most of GW in Osaka, as such it was going to be busy anyway so maybe we didn’t see much of a difference from normal numbers in the spring.

The May Puzzled Pint night is here! Tuesday, May 14th from 6:00-9:00 PM! This month's theme is Bart Simpson, but you don't need to watch The Simpsons to solve the puzzles. This month's location has food/drinks and is friendly for all ages. Come solo or bring a team. Solve for the location at PuzzledPint.com.
Thank you to last month's teams: Second Place, Team of Juan, The Overthinkers, Sam, and The Lonely Drinker!! We appreciate you all!
Puzzled Pint is a casual, social puzzle solving event which happens at bars/pubs on the second Tuesday of every month in dozens of cities around the world. It's free to attend, and the puzzles may include things like crosswords, word searches, cryptograms, word play, and logic problems.
A location puzzle is posted here (with hints), which you can solve and then input your answer in the blank to know where to go Tuesday evening. Important: The puzzle answer is NOT the location, but you will put the correct answer into the website and then scroll to find the Tulsa location. You can also click for the solution if you run short on time.
Tuesday night, show up at the location and we'll have more puzzles for you to solve while you enjoy drinks and food. It is free to attend and participate, but you buy your own drinks/food. Teams of 3-4 work great, but you can bring a team with you or come solo. If it's your first time, you can come try out a puzzle or two or aim for the whole set. 'Game Control' will be on hand to give hints and verify answers from 6:00-9:00 pm, but don't feel like you need to be there at 6:00 to start.
Full details on the website. We hope to see you there!

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

I (16M) have been exposed to porn since a young age of I think 8 or 9. Sure enough, when puberty hit me I immediately began to masturbate to porn since 2020. I went deeper and deeper through weirder and weirder fetishes and I realized what an adverse effect it was having upon my life. Affecting my grades, social life and time with my family. I have tried to quit several times doing NoFap and what not, but eventually I give in to my fantasies and relapse. It's to the point that it is affecting me mentally, I have problems with social interaction and I cannot interact properly with even my family. I try to control my habit but I go back to where I was, sometimes masturbating 10 times a day.
I tried smoking when I was 14 out of curiosity, did not like it, but that didn't stop from doing it constantly. I guess it was about looking "cool" and peer pressure. I did not realize when I got addicted, I used to only smoke when I was out with friends but eventually I started doing it in my home. I've had a few close calls with my parents and they probably suspect me, but they have no concrete evidence that I smoke as of yet. I have been smoking at least 3 cigarettes per day for 1 year. More when I'm home alone. I did not see it as a problem as I thought I would be able to quit whenever I wanted to, but that wasn't really the case. My Dad is an active smoker, so sometimes I would steal cigarettes from him when he wouldn't realize. Where I live it's not that hard to buy packs of it, availability is quite convenient.
I have tried to quit both of these on several occasions but fail to do so, and sometimes think I may never be able to. I have begun to hate myself, sometimes acting out irrationally and frequently having arguments with my parents. I can't seem to focus on studies anymore, all that goes into my mind are these two things. The thing that also haunts me is that if I quit these, will I be able to have fun in my life? I know there are other things to enjoy, but I feel I am addicted to an extent that I can't seem to enjoy the other things in life.

I don’t even know where to begin. 26F. I have had a lot go on in my life (not to short anyone else, because life is screwed). I’m just going to tell my story because I don’t know what else to do. As I’m telling this story please keep in mind, I don’t have all of the information and I’ve been kind of surviving up until this point. When I was 3-8 months old my father packed me and the dog up, and left my mother without telling her while she was at work back in 1997(Florida to Pennsylvania). having no idea because I was an infant, going in to toddler my dad loved the crap out of me. I felt safe, and cared for. My dad ended up sending me to a catholic school for 1st- 5th. started growing and realized that I have a difficultly keeping concentrated, was way friendler than everyone. @ 9 years old he had me speak to my mother for the first time and all she said was mean shit about him and I cried and hung up.
I had noticed my dad started to grow aggravated with me, and would say some down right mean shit. Not let me have my own personality, Embarrassed me by writing mean shit about what I did wrong on sticky notes and would tell me to keep in on my shirt all day at school. Back me into corners like he was a big bully if I didn’t do things right/his way. He through a birthday party for me when I was 11 and then was like “look at how nobody showed up” when he was most likely the reason they didn’t. Before sixth grade started, he moved us back down to Florida. So from catholic school to public. I noticed bigger changes in him and it was a complete 180 for me, going from a religious school to a public. It was like there was no longer the happiness in him and he would pick on me and bully me, when I started going to public schools I was bullied as well there. I would come home from school crying and he stated “I’ll give you a reason to cry”. Would be very physically abusive. Would even threaten to send me to my mothers which I was scared of because of the mean shit she said when I was 9. He sent me to another girls mom to learn about “women things”- literally just how to shave my f**** legs. I eventually went to the schools therapist in 6th grade and tried to tell them what was going on without getting my dad in trouble or him hearing about it and doing something worse, that didn’t happen. I guess I blacked out most of my memory’s about things because of the way I needed to cope but I remember writing him letters and begging him to talk to me because he started just not speaking to me at all, would leave me at home while he worked and told me to lock the doors and hide. I eventually tried to disconnect from it all in my head to go with the motions. Eventually before 8th grade started we moved up to Maryland and moved in with my cousins because he had claimed he lost a lot of money in Florida( in recent years he told me the school was trying to get him charged for the things I said back then to the therapist.) we became more distant because he wasn’t very friendly and would hide in the basement. Moved into my god parents house because eventually he had enough issues with my cousins he didn’t want to be “there problem” anymore. We became more distant as he would just hide in there basement as well, I’d go down there just to talk with him and he’d just be this mean person I didn’t know anymore. Still being a very emotionally abusive person. I got arrested 3 months before graduation because I had weed and cigarettes at school.
When I was 18 I moved into my 2nd boyfriend’s house. Not a good idea looking back at it because it was totally a trap house and I had no clue what I was doing there.(drugs) that’s what I was doing. He had no clue & didn’t care to notice. A lot of co-dependence was there because I stayed there for 4 years.
In 2018 (I was 18 at this point) he was going delirious for about 4-5days and would tell me stuff like take my stuff, I’m going to die ect. Wouldn’t let me take him to the hospital, just wanted to die, thank god my god mother was there when he collapsed and had a ambulance come and get him, he went into a diabetic coma it lasted for 1.5 months or so, he came out of it and basically told me he should’ve died and that he wanted to.
That made things worse mentally for me, I did a lot of fucked up things in the 4 years I was with the boy I was doing drugs with, he also was very physically abusing, as so was I at this point. We broke up and I did everything I could not to go back to living with my father who ended up with enough money to buy a place in my name. I ended up living there for a while and nothing good came from it.
A lot of drinking and boyfriends and dumb shit happened and I was completely out of it until I got a DWI in late 2019. Really woke me up. I started wanting better for myself, knowing I could just didn’t know how. I got into YET ANOTHER RELATIONSHIP, and thought it was good for me, two years in we decided we were going to buy a home (23 years old at this point) we bought it and a lot was wrong with the house and clearly the boy I bought it with because he was into a really odd kink, had girls in his phone, and would not introduce me to his female friends. On top of that he did not doing ANYTHING to help me fix the home. A year into owning the home I broke up with him and lost my job. I was depressed for 7-8 months, got another job and about 1.5 years after the break up someone came up to me and asked me on a date. (I still lived with my ex in the house we own). (I was completely honest with him and up front about everything.)
He has shown me grace, kindness, and compassion. He had shown me a whole new perspective in life. He also had gone through a really traumatic past. Starting of the relationship was rough, I was feral and he gets defensive really easy. We have stuck this thing out and I am 7 months in therapy and he just had his first session in years today. I would like to consider this success. I just changed therapist because the one I had been going to wasn’t as good as I would’ve liked them to be. We are now 1.5 years in, and I’m still trying to figure myself out and currently won’t hear from the new therapist until the 21st of may. I’m struggling mentally but not half as bad as I used to. I guess I’m just looking for new perspectives and some positive words at this point. My boyfriend and I are on opposite schedules for the next 2.5 months and I can tell I’m still very co-dependent, in my head I’m hoping his new therapist doesn’t tell him we are not right for each other. I’m so full of stress and trauma it’s crazy. I don’t even know who I am or if I fully feel happy in any situation.
Any kind words would help. Sorry for the all over the place read.

I am 36 years old. I don't have any friends. I haven't been in a relationship in two years. I don't make as much money as I would like. I am have a really slow recovery from a tonsillectomy and I am just having a hard time getting myself motivated to do anything.
I had one pretty good friend, an ex, and we went on a platonic trip together in March. I had a really good time and generally enjoyed myself. Got to see Chichen Itza and get some fun in at the cenotes and beach. Since then we haven't hung out though. In her texts she said the guy she has been seeing is moving out of town in a few months so she is spending time with him. She has dated him off and on for 20+ years and this has never been an issue before so I do feel like some of this is also just fatigue of hanging out with me. We didn't get in any fights on the trip but it did show we have much different priorities/personalities. She brought her dogs, they go everywhere with her, and one is incontinent so it was dictating quite a bit of our schedule but I am pretty used to this so I felt like I handled it fairly well. I also do think some of this is her boyfriend not wanting us to hangout, which is understandable. I just said No worries and we haven't talked since. She didn't message me on my birthday, but I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't remember. We have been hanging out regularly for 2-3 years so it is a bit of a hit, but it was something that felt ultimately was going to happen so I am not mad, just a little sad. I haven't hung out with anyone other than my dad since the middle of March though.
Just hurts to not have anyone to hangout with at all. I have talked to two coworkers and one of them has bailed on me multiple times and the other just said he was too busy to make any plans in the first place. I have done meetups in the past but I always just feel so awkward not knowing anyone and I am awful at initiating contact with anyone, guys or girls. I also just don't really have that many interests, even though I tend to enjoy most things I do. I own a dirt bike but haven't gotten out to use it because it is really hard to load by myself and I am just not that confident with it. And if I am doing anything alone without somebody else keeping me accountable I tend to just blow it off. I have also tried Bumble BFF but honestly was so turned off by it. I kept on getting hit on, creepy af, and it just feels awkward.
I feel like I am bad at making friends because I am not very personable and also tend to overshare and say stupid things just because I haven't talked to anyone in so long it is just kind of like a dam bursts.
I would like to get back into judo or jujitsu, but with college and my mortgage I am barely squeaking by financially, and 200+ a month is a little too much for me. I even canceled my cable plan to save some money for bills despite loving basketball. I also don't really have enough energy for active hobbies due to my tonsillectomy right now.
I work full time and am taking college classes at the same time. I was never the best student, but I have finished 9 computer science courses and a statistics class over the last 2.5 years. I have 5 classes left for my bachelors and am on course to graduate Spring 2025. Straight A's and one B+ so far so I have been really happy with my grades, but the industry has completely fallen apart over the last year or two and I am worried that after investing all this time and money into going back to college I might not be able to get a job. The best student I know wasn't able to land a single internship this summer and that really shocked me. He is an amazing programmer, better than anyone I know.
Because I have a mortgage on a little duplex I cannot really afford to do an internship to try and help my job prospects, I am going to really have to rely on doing well in the interviews. I am also planning on trying to take advantage of the career fairs and other on-campus opportunities next fall but that is so not my comfort zone that I don't want to set my expectations really.
With how busy I am it has also been a great excuse for myself to not pursue more social outlets and the only thing I do for dating is online apps and while I can get the occasional date I don't think I have ever actually had a real connection through it. I am just bad at connecting with people on a personal level, be it friends or dates. I have been on so many first dates it is kind of depressing. The town I live in isn't small, like 150k, but I feel like I am running low on options after years of failures.
I had been suffering from chronic tonsillitis over the last year. I had 5 bouts in total, three of which were back to back episodes from January to March this year. I got a tonsillectomy on April 20 and am still having problems swallowing food. I am basically still on a puree diet.
Getting the tonsillectomy was a real eye opener for me because with my ex not being a contact anymore I didn't have anyone to rely on so I had to have my father fly out and spend a week with me. I didn't have any friends to rely on and it really just kind of hit me how depressing my life is. All of my old high school friends, who I don't keep up with, have families.
The one thing I had going for me is that I had a decent physique. Due to a lack of a social life I was pretty good at going to the gym and lifting regularly. I was 6'1 and 180-185 pounds, nothing impressive but I was happy with myself. I am down to 160 pounds now since my tonsillectomy though and I am just extremely low energy all the time. My summer class started today and I am having a lot of issues just focusing after an 8-hour work day, even though I only work remotely on a computer.
During COVID I really made leaps and bounds to improve myself. I quit cigarettes after 15 years, I started going back to class. Got my own place and gained 40 pounds (in a good way) but after losing half of that weight and generally being miserable from my tonsillectomy it is just so hard to motivate myself to even go to the gym anymore and for 3 years I never had a problem getting off my butt to go to the gym, even if it was just for a mediocre lifting session.
I used to love playing video games and watching tv shows/movies but now I just find myself mindlessly watching youtube or reading and don't even have the attention span or interest in booting up a video game anymore or trying to find a show or movie to watch.
I always wanted a family, but I have never really had a successful relationship in my life and now since my tonsillectomy I have become a lot less sexually motivated than before. I don't even have the urge to masturbate anymore, and sex was never a strong point of mine in the first place, leading me to believe it will be even worse moving forward. I also just have never connected with somebody on like a really deep level and feel like years of failures/insecurity just kind of burden me a this point. And I am getting to the age now where I feel like I am almost beyond the point where this is still possible. It is weird telling somebody I am 36 and my longest relationship was only 4 months long.
I feel like I am on the right track on paper with only one year left until I graduate and I kind of really want to move even though I love where I live just so I can get a fresh start, but at the same time I am terrified I will graduate and just be in the same situation I am currently in. I also could never afford to buy another place without a better salary. The only reason I was able to afford what I currently have is because I bought during the 2020 market and got a 2.34% APR. But even with that my mortgage is close to 40% of my take home right now and I have one of the cheapest places in town.
I don't really have anyone to vent to or destress to so I just wanted to post something from a throwaway account. My dad has been texting me daily because I think he realizes how unhappy I am and I really appreciate that.
I have been wanting to go see some Nuggets games at the bar, but I still cannot drink alcohol until I am eating food again so I have just been following highlights on youtube. I also have never been a fan of hanging out at bars. I enjoy shooting pool but I am not good at social settings like that.
I will leave it at this for now. A very long, poorly formatted ramble. But I have seen much worse. Thanks.

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

So, long story short, it’s 12 at night. I just landed in Luxembourg and was looking to buy some cigarettes, the pos of the only store open was not working so I went to take out some money near the main police station in Luxembourg City. I know by experience that all around that police station it’s packed with dudes selling drugs (I have been asked numerous times around if I need something) though tonight it was pretty chill, no one around. Almost like a safe place to hang out.
While walking back to my hotel, I pass in front of that police station and three dudes wearing pimp clothes stop me and show me their police badge, they put me in a corner and tell me « yeah we saw you went to take money at the atm where is the cocaine ? »
I tell them I have nothing and then they proceed to check me like I’m a criminal, emptying everything, body search and the whole thing.
Is that something usually happening when going to take some cash out at the atm in the night ? Is it actually illegal to hang out at night looking for cigarettes or using atms ? What is the legal basis here for a body search ? I won’t even speak about the way they spoke to me… really like I was a freakin criminal. Should not they be more focused on those dudes selling drugs around instead of bothering random people using the atm ?

I've recently bought a 2006 Suzuki Jimny, and I'm looking to buy a new headunit. But I have no clue where to start to look for one. I'd like something with AirPlay, but all the ones I've looked at have been a little more than I want to spend (but if they really make a difference, would definitely consider it). I've seen those android and linnex screens on AliExpress, which I know probably aren't the greatest, but if anyone has any experience, positive or negative, would be appreciated. Or should I use a Bluetooth FM converter that you put in the cigarette lighter 12v? I've also bought four new speakers to fit if that makes a difference. I'm also in the UK.

I'm (38m) (or was) in a relationship with a girl for the past year or so. While there are several issues in our relationship, today's topic is money.
Background: We both work for a big company, we both earn the same give or take, and it's an amount that provide for our needs, without making us wealthy. When I approached her romantically and in the original stages of the relationship I would pay most of the times when we would go out, I'd buy her small gifts and during the first month that she stayed at my place while searching for her own flat I didn't ask for rent or utilities (though she offered to assist with the utilities and I declined). Then some worrying patterns emerged; She would constantly whine about how her finances are tight, she would not stop me from paying her the amount for even a single morning coffee that she brought me, she would accept money from me for a concert ticket that she bought as a present for her ex and the tops she would do is to prepare food while we were in her place which almost every time I would go out and get us dessert/fruits/wine/whatever as an appreciation gesture (something she would rarely do when I was doing the same at my place). Then we decided to go dutch - every time that she was paying for something I would instantly reach for my phone and send her my share, being extremely mindful about it. Apart from a couple of times that I would tell her "that's on me" we would split everything. She was rarely forgetting to ask for my share (for example lunches that she thought I haven't paid her, which I had to just show her the transaction to prove it) and a couple of times she would be like "oh you paid for that uber so that's one is on me". Note here, she got plenty of presents and gifts from me, I have received almost nothing (irregardless if it is expensive or not). Now, there were several cases that I would get her something that she asked (cigarettes, groceries etc) and she would forget to pay me. I found it extremely petty to ask my gf for that, so I never did and I had no problem with it.
Fast forward to a situation where we were splitting the cost of a gift for her friend's birthday. Hours after purchasing the gift, she reminded me to send her $20 for my share. I reacted angrily, stating, "You won't lose your money, don't worry, as you never have before," and instantly venmoed my share. She noticed my irritation and asked what was wrong. I expressed my frustration, feeling it was petty for her to request such a small amount when she often overlooked the times that she forgot to do the same. She escalated the situation, calling me "psycho" for reacting this way, arguing that she did nothing wrong—after all, she was simply asking for the money I had agreed to pay and I should have done the same.
AITA?

First impressions: Excellent! This shit is gonna be good, I just know it. The aroma from the bag is nice and rich, a little bit chocolately, a little bit woody and a little bit sweet (that would be the Turkish) The cut on this stuff is amazing, awesome for tubing. Even better than Top. Seriously, this should be the cut of a premium brand like American spirit instead of loose flaky bits. Lots of long long strands of dark brown, medium brown and light brown. Moisture level = exactly where it should be. This is the most impressive bag o' baccy I've opened yet. The long chunky cut makes it easy to tube loosely or tightly, versus a flaky cut which almost always packs tight, or a shag cut which will pack very unevenly if you don't feather it out beforehand.
Flavour wise, yep it's an American cigarette tobacco. Very good quality, no off-putting smells or flavours while smoking. Definitely lighter compared to something like Top or Bugler blue. Again, I'm in Canadadadada, so my access to and experience with American cigarettes is pretty limited, I imagine this would be similar to a Camel light/blue. This would be good choice for someone who likes "light" or "gold" cigarettes as the nicotine is a little lower than some I've tried. Flavour is also subdued a little compared to a "full flavour" type, but not weak at all. Comes with a pack of Bugler papers. Haven't tried hand rolling it, but I think the chunky cut would make hand rolling a bit tough. Use a roller machine.
Does it clove? It's OK, needs more dark tobacco for that true kretek experience.
Would I buy it again? Hell yeah, this stuff is really good quality. In fact I'd bump Top tobacco off my list in favour of this. Gonna try the Bugler blue next week

A couple of months back I got an E14 Gen 5 (Type 21JK, 21JL), and a few days back the W key got a cigarette burn, and not it has this annoying burn and it's not easy to press, many times I push it but it doesn't type.
The retailer I got the laptop from said they can't order replacement parts for me, and I checked on Lenovo's website, the replacement keyboard is out of stock.
Where can I get replacement parts for new Thinkpad models? I stay in Dubai, where lenovo doesn't have a direct representation. Also, my keyboard is UK layout, can I replace it with a US/Arabic layout keyboard, or do I have to stick to the layout I got?

Sorry in advance for the long post. I’m just so heartbroken and shocked.
I (29F) have been married to my high school sweetheart (29M) for nearly 9 years plus we were together for 3 additional years on top of that. We have had a wonderful marriage up until about 1-1.5 years ago. Since then, he has become addicted to various things all at once- cigarettes (more than a pack a day), nicotine/vape, weed, alcohol, caffeine (several Red Bulls, etc. a day) and has also become secretive- driving off in the middle of the day, spending a lot of time alone in the garage on the phone - even peeing in soda bottles and leaving them around the garage to avoid having to come inside. When questioned, he snapped back at me about it saying I ask too many questions, he needs his privacy, etc. He also eats out there as well and has not really eaten from our groceries in weeks. He will not buy anything when we go to the grocery store together and will go and get food everyday and eat it in the car. I also recently found out that he had been paying for sex content to be created / phone sex behind my back with our joint budget (he swore nothing physical happened) which had been ongoing for several years. I had caught this before a few years ago but he swore he had changed, was going to therapy, and did make some improvements. I have since found out that it had started up again and that the amount was far greater than I originally thought.
This week, he and I were supposed to be going on vacation. (He is a sales rep & had earned this company trip as an incentive.) This had been planned for months, I already had it off work. Yesterday, he brought me over to our friend’s house and proceeded to tell me (yes, with both of our mutual friends within earshot- another couple) that I should not go on the trip. That is how he started the conversation. He then told me he had slept with a coworker at a trade show he was working the previous week (unprotected) and that this person was going to be there, and that if I went and he did not tell me, his boss said he would tell me there because he needed to tell me what happened. (Although he would not tell me much of the details because “does it even matter?”, I guess the majority of this, other than the actual sex, happened within visibility of other colleagues.) During this conversation, it felt like he was not remorseful, and kept trying to direct it back on me. He cheated because he hasn’t been happy and tried to convince me that I also wasn’t happy. (Can you remember the last time it was good? See, you can’t, Etc.) It almost felt to me that he was trying to justify his actions and/or to get me to leave him or make it a mutual thing. I went into this conversation relatively calmly (especially with the audience) and may have been open to making it work, however given what he’s saying it doesn’t sound like he is interested in trying to repair things and has had a foot out the door for awhile behind my back.
After the conversation, he essentially left our 2 friends to deal with the aftercare and to console me. Both friends told me to leave him and that it was unacceptable the way this was handled. They helped me to figure out what I needed to do next and took me home after. It was so embarrassing to have our personal business on display in front of our friends but I am glad someone was there to comfort me after the conversation.
He is still going on the trip this weekend without me (LOL) and I am using my week off work to move in with my mom. We have continued to stay in our home together until he flies out for the trip but he does not really talk to me or won’t even look at me when he walks past me. No remorse or apologies.
The sad thing is, I walked out of this day feeling like the guilty one because of our conversation. I’m certainly not perfect and have my flaws, as anyone does, but what could I have done wrong to make him feel this way in our marriage that he would go into this conversation like I’m less than a stranger after 12 years together? He made me feel like it was my fault when literally I’m the one that got cheated on and got my personal business blasted to our mutual friends. Every reason he gave seemed so generalized and I’m just lying here awake, so confused. I’ve been so torn up about it I can’t eat or sleep and I’m so disgusted I want to vomit thinking about that night. At the end of the day, I just love him enough to want him to be happy and want him to get the help he needs for his addictions. He is, and has been for months, in therapy and meds so I am so shocked this happened.
I never thought I’d ever see the day my marriage ended and am still just in shock from it all. I genuinely thought we were soulmates and am so shaken by this sudden 180 in personality. Does it get better? What would you do if you were in the situation where he gives you this conversation in front of your friends….?

To continue this liberating experience of publicly sharing what my mother would rather I keep secret, here are a few other stories.
I am still no contact with my mother, and I am now thinking of just making new social media accounts just to diminish my stress. Here are a few examples that concern Mother's Day.
As a young child, I was expected to remind my dad that Mother's Day was coming and ask for money to buy my mother something. Yes, my dad was a subpar husband. He wasn't a better son because my mom had to remind him on the day to call his mom. My dad would usually bring us to a dollar store and have us buy one thing. My mom would insist that it was enough to everyone. That gifts aren't important. "It's the thought that count." Weeks or months later, she would tell me things like: "You could have insisted your dad take you to (name a field or park) and pick me some flowers."
Ok. Next year was the dollar store gift, 1 for 3 kids. And I would ask to go pick flowers. My dad wouldn't drive it. So I would walk to an empty house lot and pick what was there. I gave that to her. That also wasn't good enough. "You could have made me breakfast."
Ok. Expectations are now a gift, flowers, and breakfast in bed. Gotcha! Next year? She didn't like what her pre-teen daughter made her to eat with her brothers, 1.5 years younger.
The year after? All of the above, plus a cake with dinner would have been nice!
The year after? Complete meltdown. No gift, no breakfast in bed, no flowers, no cake. My parents had divorced, and my dad had custody on that day. Her new girlfriend gave her the whole "you are not my mom" speech. I was still hearing about that after every Mother's Day since. It's been over 20 years.
The year after? Everything but the gift. My dad wanted nothing to do with. Asshole but understanding as the divorce was mean-spirited at best. Her girlfriend? Wouldn't bother. She needed every penny from her unemployment check to smoke cigarettes and weed. Well I should have used the money I got from my birthday or Christmas. I never received any money for those.
The year after? I was working. I got her a gift from my paycheck. "Nobody ever gets me jewelry." That was the comment after she opened the gift she discarded.
On snd on it went.
2 years ago, I was pregnant, third trimester, and hospitalized on the day. I had a massive drop in blood sugars. I was confused, hooked up to multiple IVs, an OR was kept ready in case I needed an emergency c-section, I was vomiting every other hours, and pumped full of meditation to try to get me from puking up my stomach. I did not do anything for her for Mother's Day. I did not even call her. My brother sent me a text a week later saying 'how unfair it is from you to send me scrambling at the last minute to pick up your slack.' How I had hurt my mom and could have made an effort. My husband had told her he was taking me to the hospital with very low blood sugars. She didn't talk to me until the birth of my son, where she insisted she needed to be there. I was feeling extremely guilty and allowed it.
Last year, my husband planned to take me to a small breakfast restaurant. It's really not the best most fancy place, but it's very kid friendly, and they have good, reasonably priced, gluten-free options. So perfect for breakfast with a less than 1 year old. My brother called me a few days before to ask what my nuclear family was doing on the day. I tell him the plan. A few hours later, he calls back. "It works for me and mom. What time?" Guess I should have seen that one coming.
My mom drove both of them to the restaurant, and she brought me flowers. I didn't get her anything, just told her I would pay for her and my brother. I knew neither of them would accept paying, and I didn't want to fight on my first mother's day.
Weeks later she told me that the flowers were all I deserved because she was the reason I was even here (alive) to celebrate in the first place and that I could have celebrated better and that we could have gone to that restaurant another day. Reservations somewhere better would have pleased her more.
She had also expected to be celebrated all day. We just did breakfast with her.
This year, I did nothing for her. Not a gift, not a call, not a text, not a thought.
This year was all about my little family. Eating at home, a few wonderful and thoughtful gifts from my partner, gardening all afternoon, calls to my MIL and my husband's grandmother in the evening, video games, and a drink until bed.
Maybe I'll get calls later. I decided that if they cone this time, I would just hang up.
Happy belated Mother's Day to all mothers reading this.
Sorry if this is hard to read, I am on mobile, and English is not my native language.

its now been 3 months since everything, this lasted for around 5 months.
Long novel incoming sorry but im deeply struggling to understand it and its complex.
Hey all. I really cant talk about this to anyone without hurting her; so sit down this is a doozey. Needless to say I have not so great mental health, in high school I was in a pretty bad emotionally abusive relationship, I was pretty badly abused and pushed everyone I knew away and was in a pretty much severe depression and severe anxiety for around 6 years, I assumed one day I would sleep it off, and think normal but that never happened.
Anyways I get to college and really dont put myself out there to meet anyone else. Come to my senior year and my grades are pretty good, but this is when I meet her, and I think shes gorgeous. I eventually work the effort to talk to her, and we become ok friends for about a week or so. During this time she would always message me and one time we stayed up until 2am in the university rec room just talking. This felt pretty damn good, for once it felt like somebody actually wanted to know about me, during this time she even looked up my house address and parents facebook without me even telling her their names, anyways a few days or aobut a week later she says shes going on a trip to visit her BF, I was devastated and cried, she says "that must be a punch in the balls, you had me mindfucked there for a while though, being in a LDR your always looking for something new etc" "i always had this mindset that this guy is great but I gotta tell him i have a boyfriend etc", even when I asked about her bio once(this is all on me however, I should of asked, I cried for other unhappy personal reasons aswell). It probably should of ended there.
But it didnt the next day I ask if she was okay if we were still friends and she says yes, she apologizes for not telling me sooner. We become pretty great friends, eventually we tell each other about pretty personal secrets, I tell her my high school experience, I tell her things I have never told anyone else in my life, like my suicide attempt in high school, she helps me explore some things about me like my sexuality, she even puts makeup on me which I love, and she reveals she also did not have the greatest high school experience and she has self harm scars, she later tells she SHs since she has a pattern of cheating in relationships; this only makes me feel more like a piece of shit and youll find out later. I genuinely for the first time in my life feel a purely platonic connection with someone. The nights where we sat by the pond for hours just tlaking about movies and tv shows filled my soul with so much warmth, I loved these moments I truly developed a platonic connection with her and cared so much about her. Shes in a LDR with this guy who I dont know(she later says she never brings him up because it makes me sad and I look away(should of ended then)), we begin hanging out quite regularly, I do some things I shouldnt have done at this time, I noticed she vapes and smokes so I begin to buy her vapes(she never asked me to)(im 21 and shes 19), and I begin to vape and smoke cigarettes, she never asked me to, looking back this should not have happened, but I genuinely enjoyed seeing her happy and talking to her. She used to always say with the vapes "Now I have a reason to talk to you", why? Why would you need a reason to talk to your friend? It only made me want to buy them more.
Things start getting bad and she even mentions at this point shes likely emotionally cheating with me, which only scares me; that any day any moment any time this person who I genuinely enjoy and is my best friend could have to cut all contact with me, my mental health becomes absolutely horrendous due to this and this was always a very scary fear I had throughout all this,
I even tell her at one point it feels like im on a seesaw and im stuck and have to constantly battle catching feelings and keeping my only close friend. If i really cared about her it should of ended here, but it didnt, I should of stopped it. She begins to touch me, relativelly platonically(?)(Asking to bite me, biting me, rubbing my chest and carresing my arms) and sharing food, at first I sit there and dont touch back and sit there; I dont want to hurt her. Why would I hurt someone I care about? After a while I call her out on this and say like why are you touching me, I really cant touch back she says something along the lines of "I think im using you as a replacement for the lack of attention in a LDR", she later says she thought about it and I cant provide that for her and shes just showing her affection, but this continues, what was I doing wrong? Why cant I provide that?
Eventually I convince myself its after alot of weeks that its platonic and I touch back with the same things the arm on the shoulder, the shoulder rubbing etc. We would have smokes together roughly every night which would usually be hidden in a stair enclave where we would hug each other etc. One of her responses during this time when I mentioned how bad it would look if somebody saw us doing this she said "It would be worse for you"?? How would it be worse for someone who is not known to be in a relationship?? My self esteem was the lowest it has ever been in its life, I told myself that perhaps one day things would somehow magically change. Someone finally seemed to really like me?
Eventually as you could imagine things escalate, this involves her sitting on my lap once(forward facing, saying inapprioate things etc) in her room, her letting me rub her thighs and do her hair and rub her feet and bare legs. I should of cut contact but she was the only person who knew me, and understood me in my life. I didnt want to hurt her, I didnt want to hurt myself, but I did both. The big event happens just before Christmas, we go out and we cuddle for a while in the backseat of my car where she asked if we could cuddle in the backseat, then we head back, while in the car prior she shows me lewds on her phone(I showed her a lewd of mine prior), we both get buzzed then we go out to the pond and were looking in each others eyes holding each other and she asked to kiss my cheek, I say sure, she kisses my cheek and my chin just below my lips, which makes me feel euphoric then says "You know it would still be platonic if I let you kiss me, then I wouldnt actually be kissing you",
I wanted to so very bad, I wanted to with my whole being, I lean in, lean out before eventually saying "you have a boyfriend, If I kiss you your going to hurt yourself and I dont want to hurt you", she says "wow you have more morals than I do", "must be because your older etc" and tries to move on from it fast and dance with me, well I emotionally break the fuck down like you've HURT yourself because of this for fuck sake, she says "I didnt want to kiss you, I love my boyfriend, even if I broke up I wouldnt want to ever date you, you have too much baggage", "if we kissed I would block you and stop talking to you", the person who just asked me to kiss them, the person who has been biting me and touching me for weeks wouldnt even date me? Would block me if i did what she told me to do??? This absolutely destroyed me. I didnt know what to think. I basically had to yell at her and ask her "Why did you just try to kiss me." anyways this ends with both of us crying, her saying "I dont know what to do with the love given to me etc" me almost puking and eventually with me consoling her.
The next day we go get yogurt and I say shes my best friend and we simply need strong boundaries because I dont want to hurt her. If I should of stopped anytime it should of been now. I buy her a Christmas present and things end ok, breaks go by and im mentally gone, im at the lowest I've ever felt in my life, I feel insane, depressed, just psychotic. She messages and we talk everyday of the break(s), we say how much we miss each other etc, shes my buddy she really is, she knows everything about me, I know alot about her, and shes honestly my best friend, and I loved talking to her, she always would be there for me, I really appreciated her, we had alot in common; but I was hurting extremely bad, I felt like I was in a awful position. Anyways we return from the break into the new semester and I feel like im being used, I feel like a doormat, I feel like dirt. Things escalate here, I help her code and give her anything and everything she needs to succeed, I loved watching her succeed, because shes my best friend y'know? Anyways things get pretty bad, and we hang out alot, we always hug and I play with her hair and share our food and were pretty close, at one point I kiss her cheek for a week before realizing thats weird and made her uncomfortable and stop it, there was a week where she would cuddle with me in my bed and I moved her hand from my chest once saying stop I dont want to hurt you, she would say how happy I make her and we would rub our faces together and rub our noses together, we would watch shows together and I would rub her legs and put my hand around her. Looking back now it makes me feel sick and gross and confused, I convinced myself it was platonic.
I would pretty much be repeating often during any intimate event "I dont want to hurt you; I dont want to be the person to hurt you.", but it made me feel so very good, how do I navigate this? She would say I was the highlight of her days, the highlight of her semester, how sad she was I graduate soon, how she wishes I was in her grade, how im not a chore to talk to or hangout with. I certainely didnt fully stop these physical actions now because I was selfish, because I was ignorant. She would rub my head as we drove and put her arm down my shirt and while I was driving, etc. She would often also say "Why havnt you killed me yet...you must hate me etc." but why would I? She was my closest friend I ever had in my life. Things get super bad here, we head out and I buy her a vape(she did not ask) and we have another tough conversation about things, with the usual, "Im not breaking up with my boyfriend but your so lovable" and I get super emotional and hurt,
I really didnt want to hurt anybody. Anyways I get drunk; shes sober, and she lets me into her room a hour later as we were going to go see live music and she sits on my lap again forward facing and non-platonic things occurred, it doesn't go as far as sex but a line is crossed and we both immediately stop, but she cheated; I hurt her. I hurt her bad. I never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt anybody. The guilt is beyond anything I ever experienced and I cant even understand how she feels. She downplays it, I almost cut myself because of the shame I felt that night, the next day im crying really bad to her and tell her she should probably tell her BF if she really loves him, she says "ok i will, he will still love me tho" "doesnt this scare you? I fuck around" "this guy called me cute the other day" "you deserve better" , I then tell her not to tell her BF, because im scared and didnt know what to think to do. I should of not stopped her and walked away then. We stay close friends for around 2 weeks after this event with a bit of contentation afterwards. There was a time I got super emotional and basically told her I wish there was a camera or a third party watching this to see what you were doing to me with all this rubbing and cuddling and affection, which made her pretty much storm away from me and me saying sorry im wrong and begging her to just talk and I have a panic attack. Eventually she realized because of a outside voice that she had to tell her BF(her roommate walked in on us as that event in her room was done unfolding) , she said her BF broke up with her and she needed space, me being a selfish asshole was unable to do that, I didnt want someone I cared about harming themselves because of me, she stated the day prior she was "going to get whats coming to her" I wanted to be there for her more than anything, I get extremely drunk throughout the week and I send her messages about how absolutely terrible I felt and how much she meant to me and of selfish ideals, I then saw her outside and ran up to her, she ran away and she couldnt even look at me.
The next day she said that was unacceptable, which it absolutely was, and even before that event she didnt see room for friendship since it was never"real", what does that mean? I still dont understand it, how was it never real? She then blocked me, said she would call the police on me if I approach her again. she would still absolutely avoid me even 2 months after.
During that time after I tried to apologize, I tried to make amends, I tried to give my closure, I tried to seek closure, All met with disgust, hatred and anger. She would literally will sprint away from me full speed as I stand. She stayed at a event I was presenting at and looked away from me for the whole hour, then very obviously took pictures of me then sprint away full speed as I sat there. That hurt me beyond belief. I never in my life had someone dead sprint away from me like im a monster. I dont know whats wrong with me or why she would think I would hurt her after everything she knows about me, after everything, but I dont blame her. She said she was sorry for her decisions before this and I had little to be sorry for, and gave me a blanket "im sorry for my decisions" but how do I have little to be sorry for if I was treated as im a abuser? I should hate her guts, she even said she led me on, she knew how bad that would hurt me, she dangled happiness infront of my face for months, she ruined my senior year, shes filled my brain with pain and resentment and betrayal, she caused me to become ostracized, to become an outcast. I never felt that low in my life, I never felt that extreme level of emotional pain. I honestly feel forever damaged. But for some reason I still have this deep care for her and I shouldnt, I still hope with all my being she passed and succeeded. I hope shes okay. If she fails or hurt herself over this I dont think I could ever forgive myself. It feels like she trusted me and I betrayed her, but I dont know.
I can't stop thinking how scared and confused and sad she was on the last day we talked, how can I forgive myself for doing that to someone, it haunts my dreams and beats me to my knees everyday. I was usually very sad when i was hanging out with her. And if she for some reason forced herself to do those things with me because she felt bad for me then I don't know how I can live with myself, I never asked for those things, but I should of stopped them, I knew they were wrong, Im sorry.
Its just so unfair. Why not just leave me alone why put all this into my head even after I told her how bad this would hurt me. If im not the bad guy then why put the image of someone in my head sprinting away from me like im a monster. There has to be something im missing, I dont understand how you can move on from something like this. The closest friend I ever had dead sprint away from me, the person I would talk to every single day for 5 months straight absolutely hates my guts and my whole being. I dont want to try anymore. I gave it all the little I had.
Im not a victim, im not a saint, I didnt stop my actions, I played a role and Im forever sorry, I lost someone I cared about and someone who maybe at one point actually cared about me. Im sorry. I dont know how to view this. I just want someone to talk to and someone to understand me, I just want someone to tell me I wasnt blind, for someone to tell me this doesnt define me, for someone to say your going to be okay, because as of now im 2/2 for being hurt badly in a relationship(I dont even know what to call this), any insight I get online I always have to type in "ex" to get relevant results which only makes me more confused She couldnt even wish me happy birthday or give me the present she bought me, i spent it all alone. I graduate college in 3 days, I have a ok job lined up which I hate.
I have a not so great home life, I dont know what to do with myself or how to live with myself after all this, why would I do this to myself, why do I struggle forming connections? why do I hurt people I care about? It felt real to me. I now talk to maybe 2 people, im bisexual and live in the middle of nowhere and have nobody. I dont want to talk to anyone ever again. Theres more to it perhaps, she used to always say " i hope im doing him more good than harm etc" but i dont know how leading someone on who has emotional trauma helps them, maybe we both should of left each other alone. I really did like talking to her, and liked hearing what she had to say, but ill likely never talk or see her ever again. I dont want to go down this road again. I dont want to hurt anybody. I have panic attacks when I go to her hallway or if she sees me I feel like i have to document everything I do, i feel like a weirdo loser. I constantly breakdown. I spend most of my days sleeping and waking up feeling immense internal guilt and hatred and pain. Anytime I try to talk to someone about this im seen as estranged, im disregarded, the only thing I can do is tell my side with proof and videos, but I dont want to hurt anybody anymore but it so unfair; im tired of being hurt.
If you read all this then I deeply appreciate you. I have nobody to talk to this about.