So I saw 2 guys take a large chunk of serrano ham and a small wheel of sheep cheese and slip it into their bag and casually walk towards the exit.
I told a store worker about it, she saw them but by then the 2 guys already walked out of the supermarket. Normally they always have a sercurity guard standing around, but I didnt see one this time. I feel bad about it because maybe I should not have said anything, they were just stealing a bit of (very nice) food from a supermarket chain, but maybe they really needed to eat. I'm pretty broke myself but I paid for my food and at that time I felt it was unfair, but what do I know what their story is.
I understand some people need to take food from stores because they dont have much money so I feel guilty for even telling the store worker on impulse. This happened in South Spain.

SOOOO this will be a long post, I will begin from the start so you understand the context.
I am a teen from an East European country where money is sparce
Around 3 years ago my mum left my dad to seek a better pay in another country and because of the worsening of her relationship with my dad (they weren't married), anyways a few months after that my dad quit his job, because he was "supposed" to work abroad, in reality it didn't happen so he was left without a job and for the next 3 years he worked odd jobs or if he found a stable job he wouldn't last long on it. Whenever he was unemployed after leaving his job, he was either excusing himself with "the job didn't pay enough" or "they were exploiting me to work long hours" or "they didn't need someone to work for that anymore, so they let me off", after getting unemployed he would use my mum for money for bills, food, himself etc... and whenever my mum refused to send him money he would say "look at what your mum is doing, she doesn't care about you or doesn't want you to be fed" and would deny any responsibility as to his situation. In all this time I refused to argue with my dad about insulting my mum for no reason, being lazy or irresponsible because I once had done so and he got extremely mad and traumatised me for a long time. I also need to add that last year in 2023 around April my dad almost sold his house, so he can pay back his debt and buy a house in a random village, when he realised he couldn't buy a house with the money he was selling his own house for, he quickly called my mum and begged her to bail him (as he owed 3k euros to the guy who wanted to buy the house), he offered my mum ownership over half the house in return, she accepted as it was a bargain. In September when my mum came back from abroad she gave my dad some money for the house and those 3k euros to pay back the guy, the thing that he didn't tell her was that they agreed with the guy not to give him that money back, so he scammed my mum 3k euros, he renovated a room for around 800 euros and the rest of the money was gone in 1-2 months (which is insane as this could last someone for at least 4 months). When I told my mum this she was furious and she said that he could've saved up the money for my future or in case he needs it desperately, instead he wasted it on food and alcohol and probably his lover.
At the end of 2023 he got a job as a maintenance worker at a central restaurant in a city as the previous worker had to return to Ukraine after a few years of working in here, so my dad was allowed to the job, he worked there for around 2 months when one day I came back from school and I saw him at home and he told me that he doesn't work there anymore as they didn't need a maintenance worker anymore, I did accept this as the truth with a bit of doubt so I didn't question him any further and since then until recently he hasn't had a job and relied mainly on my mum's money for everything, I was already getting pissed off at that point because of it and his laziness to find a job. Last month in April his friend came back from Germany and offered my dad to work together with him in Spain, my dad accepted so he got himself into fast credits, which if he stayed in here would never be able to pay back, he also asked my mum for money a few times because he had to pay 3 electricity bills and they even turned off our electricity for 2 days, but I didn't complain much as I knew my dad would go to Spain and he would return for money to fix the house and basically provide the basic needs of any decent living family. He was supposed to go work in there for 2 months and then return back for 20 days and repeat. I was left alone to live after he went to work in Spain, I managed to keep myself up while he was gone, so that was no problem. Two weeks after my dad went to Spain, me and my friend were at the store shopping for meat for that night's BBQ at my house when I got a call from my dad telling me that his manager had told him that him and 12 other new workers were getting released from the job as their shift was over apparently, he basically had to return back to the country and I didn't really believe his story, but I couldn't prove it wrong, though I read his work contract and found out that they couldn't "let him off" without notifying him 2 weeks prior, so he must've been kicked out. Then I talked with my mum and I told her the situation, she was clearly shocked as she gave him a lot of money to go there in the first place and was expectedly mad. She contacted his friend that he went together with and his friend told us a completely different story, the reason why he was "released" from the job was because he was lazy, pretended not to understand how things worked and was too laid back from the work itself by basically just sitting around, so the managers had enough of him and kicked him out. After I found that out, I realised that I could not live together with this man any longer, so the next day after the BBQ night (same day as he was supposed to be arriving in the house) I decided that I will move out of there and move to a family friend's house (he's abroad, so I am alone with his grandpa). I packed up everything from my room and everything that was my mum's and I moved to that house, my dad called me telling me he's coming back and I told him that I moved out because he was unserious and he hung up the phone. After that during the night he was threatening me that if I don't go back to the house there will be consequences, he threatened that he will call the police to search for me (even tho I told him where I am staying). After that he started begging me to come back, and I just decided to ignore him after his threatening messages as talking with him and trying to make him realise his mistake would only backfire at me. He recently had a call with my mum and she told him that she would not send him money for anything anymore even if I go back to live with him and he said, I repeat HE SAID that my mum never sent him any money, that it was all his, that she did nothing for me, and basically threatened her that he will hurt her (he's threatened her many times, insulted her etc without her doing anything to him and only trying to help).
To mention, my dad has never been physically abusive towards me and is rarely verbally abusive, unless you call him out on his lies, that he's lazy or that he's wrong, he always thinks he's right about everything, he's self righteous and never does any mistakes and everything that goes bad is someone else's fault. Also he's a big liar, he lies about everything, even the smallest things that don't need to be lied about.
So this was the story mainly, I am now in the new place for almost a week and I am getting used to this situation, my dad stopped texting me or calling me for 3 days now, he doesn't even answer my mum's phone anymore. I don't know how to handle the situation in the future, I don't have any idea how my dad will react in the next months, will I even speak to him and what should I do if I see him? I would love any advice or to hear your stories.

In December I stupidly managed to buy a fake Nike NOCTA tracksuit for my son’s Christmas present. It cost £207 from Mr Dripzone who claim that all their goods have been “authenticated”. They had pages and pages of 5* reviews on Trustpilot.
The tracksuit arrived and was very obviously not genuine (came cheaply packaged in a tiny box from China, sizing is bizarre, material is all wrong, finishing is rubbish, has none of the right features, and the labels are all wrong).I requested a refund from the company but was told that the item was on sale (there was a sitewide 20% off for Christmas) o I would only get 15% of the money back. I refused and requested my money back on the grounds that the foods were fake.
Lots of back and forth between me and the company ensued (me requesting details such as their registered details at company house, details of dispute procedures etc, all of which they ignored). So I used chargeback to claim the money from my bank. They agreed to temporarily cover the £207 while they investigate my claim.
Meanwhile all the negative reviews for Mr Dripzone on Trustpilot started piling up and, on closer inspection, all the positive Trustpilot reviews look suspiciously like they’ve been written using AI and have not a single grammatical error or typo.
The bank now want proof that the items are fake or they will reclaim the £207 from me. Obviously Mr Dripzone are denying they sold a fake and so I am wracking my brains to think how I can prove it.
I’ve filed a report with Trading Standards but it’s much too small a matter for them to investigate.
The Mr Dripzone website is “temporarily down” and I just get automated replies to emails and messages on Insta.
When I asked my bank for their advice regarding how I prove the goods are fake, they suggested I contact Nike which is obviously easier said than done!
I can’t think of anything else to do to avoid the bank finding against me and reclaiming the £207 so I could really do with any ideas the hive mind might have or any experience in this area. Or should I just give up and accept that £207 is the cost for my stupidity?

Please note this is the original submission I sent Refinery29. In the current post,they have given me a second credit card with a 100$ balance, as well as generational trauma from World War II and cut context for other things. I am trying to get that fixed.
Per previous discussion in comments here: The espresso machine is a Bezzera, which ranges from 2-5K. We got ours on sale for 1.7K, it’s a work house and we use it everyday, still hurts that we spent that money on a coffee maker.
I do understand mortgage is debt but when you compare it to rent to a lesser value condo in Vancouver it feels like not debt at all, which is how I tend to think of it. Yes I owe my mortgage but also I get my house instead of renting-which may not have become clear.
Please see in full the diary, below (edit for formatting via mobile)
Occupation: Sr Business Analyst
Industry: Tech
Age: 30
Location: Vancouver Island, BC
Salary: 92,000$ (Spouse makes 60,000$ for a combined income of 152,000$ before tax)
Net Worth: ~ 1.2 Million ( house is valued at 989,000$ currently, we have a combined 150,000 in pension, and ~60,000 in various company stocks, and GICs)
Debt: 3,000$ in a zero interest credit card for a 10 month period. We balanced transferred and pay 400$/month. Debt was acquired in Q4 2023 when we had to buy Snow Tires, and do a full break replacement as well as Christmas. 480,000$ in a mortgage, we refinanced in September 2023 for five years fixed rate at accelerated biweekly, however I don’t consider our mortgage debt due to the equity we are gaining, and that our mortgage for a five bedroom, 3 bath single family home is less than rent for a two bedroom condo in Vancouver
Paycheck Amount (Every 2 Weeks): 2,555$ after taxes. (Just mine). Spouse makes 2,308$ after taxes. Our pay periods are alternating.
Pronouns: She/her
Monthly Expenses Mortgage: 1450$ biweekly (100$ extra to the principal).
Utilities: ~200$ (includes water [paid quarterly], hydro [paid bimonthly], gas, sewetrash [paid quarterly] phone [highly discounted due to work plans for spouse and myself] and car gas) Loan Payments: 400$/Credit Card
Car Insurance: 84$
Life Insurance: 167$ combined (67$ me, 100$ spouse)
Health & Dental Insurance: 60$ deducted from pay (coverage for myself and spouse from my employer. Spouse also has coverage for both of us deducted from pay)
Retirement Contribution: 400$ (Employee matches me), (Spouse has a defined pension through work and contributes ~200$ month)
Union fees: 70$ Spouse
Subscriptions: Crave 22$/month (Recent splurge for Binge watching the Rookie), Playstation Plus 100$ (annual bought on Black Friday Deal), Amazon Prime 80$ (Annual), BCAA 120$ (annual) Gym 30$/month (we both have one so 15$/pp)
Note: My spouse and I have completely commingled finances. I will be tracking both as it’s essentially I spent whatever they spent
Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
There was always the expectation. My father was very clear, we were very smart. There was no way we’d be wasting our potential. He wanted me to be a lawyer, but unlike other immigrant parents, I got to choose my major and went into social sciences and got my masters in history. I deferred my PhD too much so I got dropped by the program.
I chose my university by where I got a full first year scholarship and then after that took about 15k in student loans for my undergraduate. My parents paid my rent and I got a part time job for food.
For my masters, I had a student line of credit and 5 k student loans otherwise it was all my savings and scholarships. With the line of credit, I had a total of 30K in student loans and paid it off in about four years.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s)/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
Save. We talked about how you get a dollar allowance and half of it goes into long term saving with 25% in short term and 25% in spend.
Investing came after I was eighteen. Family would like us to invest in property, however I don’t really want to be a landlord, but also we wouldn’t get to really enjoy profit of owning a rental property due to other family circumstances.
What was your first job and why did you get it?
Ice cream parlour I was twelve and my parents made me get it for responsibility. I lasted three weeks because I hated it.
Did you worry about money growing up?
I grew up thinking we were not rich, because we didn’t get big plane vacations (I didn’t count flying from Toronto to Vancouver every summer as a vacation since we were just seeing family but staying in a house my parents owned) and I had only been to Disney twice.
But we had a big new build house in the rich end of town, my mom stayed home to raise all of us. We had to work for things (like going to see a movie opening night or a new CD) but we always had money and got what we wanted. In retrospect, my family was/is fairly well off.
Both my parents grew up poor, with parents working multiple jobs and different shifts to make ends meet, the strive/drive to not have that childhood, and for my father to be able to retire his parents really impacted mine and my siblings and cousins lives. My father showed me the apartment he grew up in Chinatown a few years back. It’s light years away from the house my grandparents owned when I was a kid and how I grew up.
Do you worry about money now?
Of course. Inflation is real and we are actively planning a wedding for the next year, as well as a baby in the next few years. We also need to buy a second car, so we’re saving for that.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
Fully financially responsible? Twenty five. I lived in a family property where I didn’t pay rent in one of the most expensive cities in Canada, so even though I paid all my bills (food and phone), I didn’t have to pay rent. I in fact made money, as I rented rooms out and used the income for house utilities, and paying my student loans down faster. When I moved in with my spouse, I just paid condo fees until we bought our house two years ago which gave me plenty of time to save.
Our financial safety net is family, and our savings. I know my family would bail us out. My spouse’s father would as well. Conversely, we are my spouse’s mother's safety net and we have to keep all our plans in mind that we will be subsidising her.
Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain. Yes, I received 50K from my parents once they sold my childhood home, as did both of my siblings. I have also received 10K from one set of grandparents which paid off my car and part of my student loans when I was 21. I will be receiving another inheritance when probate is done for around ~100K. My spouse also has received inheritance which allowed them to buy their first condo in their early twenties when the market was much better. That condo, 50k, and the subsequent upgrading helped us afford our house.
Day 1
10 AM: I drive to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. Not how I want to start my Sunday morning but y’know. Normally I’d walk since it’s about 20 minutes but I have a UTI. I’m “lucky” that despite not having a dr because of the health care shortage, my work pays for the Maple app so I could get a dr to write the prescription and order the lab work at 1 am. I’ll do the lab work later this week when I can get an appointment but will take the relief now. Insurance makes the antibiotics free, but I also buy hydrogen peroxide because we’re out and we have a dog that thinks everything is meant to be in her mouth. We’ll buy a bigger one at Costco later. I also bought some oral wound mouthwash because we were out. I come home and my spouse made us breakfast.
Total: 15.90$ paid with debit.
1-2:30 PM: We do our taxes. I have a mini meltdown when I realize the part time bakery job I had for a few months didn’t take off income tax last year, so I owe 800$. Luckily, my partner is getting a refund so we net out positive 400$. The bakery took off income tax in 2022, so unsure why they didn’t in 2023. I made us lunch.
3-6:30 PM: We walk the dog, and watch the Rookie. Some time during that time period, a venue emails us back and is surprisingly affordable at 3k. I also get told that the tattoo artist I want to book with, has not chosen me.
6:30-7:30 PM: I explain what lazy girl dinner is to my spouse and make a lazy girl dinner. After not really grocery shopping since Feb for things besides fresh veg, we need to do a big pantry shop and neither of us want that. We debate about buying a food saver and if we should wait for a sale. My spouse is more frugal than me and has determined we should.
8-9:30 PM: We start season 3 of The Rookie, and then after two episodes we go to bed
Day One Total: 15.90$
Day Two
5:45-8 AM: Wake up and start work. I get up to date with what’s happened on the weekend and check that my automated reports. Sometime before 6:30, I get the kettle on for my spouse’s pour over before I go back to my meetings. There’s a twenty minute gap where I get changed and do my skin care and brush my teeth. I’d love to be a skin care person but honestly I’ve spent too much money on product that I don’t use and that just goes bad. Washing my face and using sun screen is a win.
I also make sure that Spouse’s lunch is in his bag and I get our travel mugs ready. Before, we used to go to Starbucks every day. Starbucks used to do free refills on coffee and tea if you were a rewards member if you bought a coffee or tea so it would cost us $5/day (2.5/pp), and we could get refills all day. While that’s 20$/week, 80$/a month and yes, we could have saved it but back then, that 80$ wasn’t turning the dial anywhere significantly for us—a privileged view.
But now, after COVID where I stopped drinking tea after one day working from home having like 10 cups and thinking I was dying, and Spouse has bought a good grinder and we recently splurged on a stupidly expensive espresso machine we call his Engagement Espresso since it costs the same price as my stupidly expensive ring, we bring our coffees.
8-8:30 AM: We drive to work. Prior to buying our house, we were both work from home and lived in a city with amazing transit. We only needed the one car. Since buying the house and moving to a city where public transit is a joke (the one bus goes past our house every 1.5h), Spouse changed jobs and is in office every day and I have to go in 3 days a week. We need a second car or the e-bike rebate to come through. We debate this in the car, since I’m done at 1 pm, and Spouse works normal hours, I either have to take the bus home, or go to the gym for three hours. Today though, I drop Spouse off. I will pick him up later as he has a half day because of the dentist
8:30-12:30 AM/PM: Work. I find a tech manager and ask them to get me more triple a batteries. Work won’t provide or let me expense batteries for my mouse, despite them replacing my usb mouse with a battery one. The poor admin had to tell me the decision is that we’ll all supply our own batteries. Luckily the tech managers have to have batteries on hand and give them out freely.
I ask my boss how the work from home tax forms work, and he is going to find out.
I run more meetings and work on a request for a dashboard and a business case for a new feature that I have to convince leadership to spend money on.
12:30-1 PM: I drive back to my Spouse because he has a dentist appointment.
While I wait for a spouse, I am incredibly hungry. I’m usually not hungry/don’t eat a proper meal until around 1 in the afternoon and my two granola bars I already ate at the office. I go to the bakery by Spouse’s work and buy a cheese bun for me (3.65$), and an apple pie scone (2.55$) for Spouse as a snack. Spouse points out he won’t be able to eat until after his appointment.
Total: 6.20$ debit
1-1:30 PM: I drop Spouse off, and the car stops working. The engine won’t catch. I try multiple times and then run into the dentist to dramatically announce to Spouse and the receptionists that the car won’t start. Spouse asks me what he wants me to do about this, since he’s about to go into an appointment. A very kind receptionist tells me it might be the alternator. I don’t know what that is.
I go back to the car to Facetime my father. He also asks what I think he can do to help since he lives 3000 km away. Weirdly, and sexistly, I thought a man who grew up at race tracks, in a racing family, or the man who has collected and worked on sports cars for forty years might be able to help.
Spouse texts me to remind me we have BCAA while my father also tells me that. I finally get the engine to catch and drive the very long way home, going the speed limit and getting stuck in traffic, construction and a bus. It takes me 20 minutes to get home instead of 10.
1:30-2:30 PM: I walk the dog, mail a (late) birthday card and then start researching what an alternator is. The car is over a decade old and until the house, the most expensive thing I ever bought at 12K back in 2015. We have the funds for the cost, but it’s my first car and the fact it might be the end of its life is scary.
Alternators can cost between 400-800$ repair with labour, so that’s fun.
My dad calls me back and apologises for asking me what he could do away. He advises me that there’s probably a bald spot on the alternator and advises me to go to the mechanic to check or replace it, if the car doesn’t start again.
I call the mechanic to book an appointment, and to also get the snow tires off and to buy new rims for the snow tires. The mechanic lets me know that the alternator part is 500$, and an hour of labour so with taxes we’re looking at around 700$
That future appointment next week (we’re going down a highway this weekend which requires snow tires) will cost ~1.5K, assuming we replace the alternator.
I make lunch and sigh.
2:30 PM: The car starts thankfully. I drive incredibly slow. I pick up Spouse by idling the car. We get an email back from a venue saying they cost 75,000$ minimum. The timing is hysterical.
Due to the nature of the dentist, Spouse owes 618$, as they haven’t flipped it under my insurance. They split it in half, as he has a follow up in two weeks. After the next appointment they will flip the whole amount under me and we’ll get reimbursed for the whole amount.
Total 309$/credit card.
3-10 PM: We walk the dog, make dinner (Spouse makes white sauce pasta, with chicken and peas) and watch The Rookie. There are thirteen episodes in season three, and we will be busy every night this week besides Friday and Sunday, and I would like to finish season three so we can start season 4 next Monday. I don’t want to pay for more than one month of Crave. We have five episodes left
Day Two Total: 315.2$
Day Three
1 AM: 100$ is automatically transferred from our account to the credit card debit. We have an auto transfer of 100$/every Tuesday to a Visa where we balance transferred both our cards. We have an offer for 0 interest for 10 months, so we did that for some of the bigger expenses (snow tires, break replacement and general Christmas) and are on track to pay it back within the next 6 months. That visa is our emergency card that we just have in the back end and utilise for promos like this. It allows us to keep our two cards balances manageable and lets us pay in an easier way than taking big chunks out of our various savings.
Total: 100$/direct deposit
5:45-9 AM: Work. Meetings, reports, trying to convince a colleague that the process does include them and refusal to follow it means that their requests won’t be done. Spouse has another half day so I can go into the office at my leisure—if the car starts
9-9:20 AM: The car starts, I get into the office and refresh a data flow before a meeting with a new stake holder. It takes longer to drive into work today because the tourists are starting to come and their van builds or campers are not exactly highway speed and with a two lane highway, if you don’t merge over fast enough you’re stuck.
10:05-10:20 AM: Meeting done, car starts again and I drive home for more meetings. The least amount of time in the office is preferable for me.
10:30-11AM : Meeting with my manager where we discuss future salary and promotion. I am due for a promotion in the start of Q2, which would push me to six figures. I’ll believe it when I see it but, I’m really excited at that possibility for my family.
11:15 AM: Spouse leaves for work, we discuss what groceries are needed, as well if he’ll go to Home Depot tonight to buy more clover seeds for the yard, as we need to reseed before it starts raining. I eat a muffin and my dog and cat decide to try and eat each other.
11:15-1:30 PM: Work runs late. There’s some issues with the data and we can’t figure it out. We call it a night, and I’ll record the video presentations tomorrow, once we fix the data.
1:30-4 PM: Nap time! It’s bad for me, but honestly I don’t sleep well during the night so naps are what keep me alive.
4-6 PM I prep dinner (smash burgers and fries), and get chores done and walk the dog.
6-7:30 PM: Spouse comes home, we eat dinner. Groceries come to 96.83 for two 7 pound pork loins, two packs of bacon, chicken nuggets, coffee, pop, 8 pack of peppers, milk, tomato, pickles, rice, avocado, mushrooms, sour cream and lettuce.
Not too bad, we average about 300$/month in groceries because we can buy bulk and have a second freezer.
For the month of March we are currently at 123.61$ for groceries and there is twelve days left. We went on a small weekend away, so we ate out a fair bit but even then our current food budget is 272.27$ today.
Total: 96.83/ debit
7:30-10 PM: Spouse makes a coffee and plays video games with his friends. They do it every week. I have a shower, fold and put away laundry and read in bed.
Day Three Total: 196.83
Day Four
1AM: Our biweekly accelerated mortgage payment comes out of 1450$. I’m tracking it here to be honest on our spending but I tend not to think of it as money spent because in my head it’s already money gone. To pay for a house equivalent in Vancouver, the mortgage would be over 6k. Renting a two bedroom condo would be 3K. It feels like the mortgage is just cheaper rent, even though each time I own more of my house.
5:45-9 AM: Work. I find out the limits of how many people I can invite to a Teams Meeting as well as that the Thursday before Good Friday is a catholic holiday when a few people ask me to reschedule a training forum for over a thousand people. Sometime in there I make us coffee, make sure Spouse has lunch packed (leftovers). Spouse has walked the dog and has the recycling and compost out for pick up. I drop Spouse off at work.
10-11:45 AM: I leave the office for home and more meetings. I walk the dog and go record training videos. I get an email that Amazon is doing their big spring sale. I send a link to a robot mop and vaccum that’s on a big discount to Spouse. We want one, but I’m not in charge of the research on it. I send links to play grounds to my friends with toddlers
11:45-12:30 PM : I shove lunch in my mouth, last night’s left overs. I’m running late, and decide to get myself later by collecting all the random dishes and mugs that just show up places and start the dishwasher. I get to the lab ten minutes early but need to buy gas on the way home.
I tell my team I’ll be MIA for a bit and leave the work phone in the car.
I buy 15.6L of gas for 30$ at 1.879/l it sucks. I don’t fill up because we’re going to my in laws this weekend and there’s a Costco Gas Bar there.
Total: 30$/credit card
12:30-1:30 PM: Work goes long again.
1:30-2:30 PM: Nap!
2:30-4:30 PM: Walk the dog and drive to the gym. I usually go three times a week but with last week’s weekend away and this week’s weird half days from Spouse, today’s the only day. I make it up by doing both upper and lower body and a 30 minute circuit.
4:30-7:30 PM: I pick up Spouse and we go to Costco. We pick up nachos, ham, cheese buns and some other items. We debate buying our friend’s kid a toddler set of clothes and decide no. We end up buying work pants for Spouse, and a garden hose. It comes out to 116.90
I order our Costco dinner of hot dogs and fries for a grand total date night of 6.41$
Total: 123.31/ credit card
8-9 PM: Dance class! We bought a series of six lessons of introduction to ballroom back in December for a new date night idea. We paid 60$/pp and this is the fifth lesson tonight.
9 pm: We’re home, we let the dog out. Spouse spends an undetermined amount of time watching ballroom videos while I sleep.
Day Four Total: 1603.31$ or 153.31 excluding the mortgage payment.
Day Five
5:45-9 AM: Work. All the meetings. Thursday is the meeting day. I debate with a friend what’s the earliest call we’ve had. 4:30 am still wins. I pack lunch for Spouse and his coffee and he leaves. I end up cleaning up cat puke as the cat decides to drink milk from Spouse’s cereal and vomit it up on camera in a meeting.
9-9:30 AM: I make myself a matcha and walk the dog.
9:30-1 PM: Work and I treat myself to a lunch of a cheese bun and ham sandwhich. We used to eat it every Sunday while growing up but the cost of ham has been outrageous. The deal at Costco yesterday was 1.5$/100 g which is really good.
1-1:30 PM: I seal the wooden deer Christmas decoration we bought last year. It sits outside our front door and needs to be weather proofed, and I’ve been putting it off for five months. But the weather is good and we have newspapers. We have left over wood sealer after the sign we bought a year ago so I use that. The dog and the cat both don’t like my wooden deer.
1:30-4 PM: Nap!
4-5 PM: I basically just watch youtube and drink a root beer. I have no energy.
5-6:30 PM: Spouse comes home, we walk the dog and I make dinner (Kraft Dinner and nuggets–I swear we eat veggies but today is not that day). We discuss the possibility of our dog at our wedding as a flower girl, and if she’ll be in a tutu or a cheongsam like me. I am now researching if they make dog cheongsams and if she can match us. The cat, despite all my heart wanting it, won’t physically be there because he will have an anxiety attack and probably die.
6:30-10:30 PM: Board game night! We go to a friend’s to repeat the same scenario we’ve lost two weeks in a row.
10:30-11 PM: I pack Spouse’s breakfast (oatmeal and frozen berries), lunch (spicy tuna and mayo) since he’s trying to go to the gym before work, and feed the animals before we go to bed.
Day Five Total: 0$
Day Six Friday
5:45-9 AM: Work. I have a deep focus block which means I can get the script for the training I have to run. Public speaking is not my strong suit and it’s a group of a thousand people so I’m not looking forward to it. Spouse almost makes it to the gym. I get an email that my new work phone has shipped. I’m surprised because they wouldn’t order us any for the past four years, but I guess my new iPhone will show up next week. I might give my old work phone to my mother in law, since she smashed the camera on the phone we bought her last year.
9-9:30 AM: I walk the dog, make a matcha and make a todo list for what we have to get done before we leave to my in laws tomorrow. I text my mother in law happy birthday, and hope that she got the card in time. She did.
9:30-11:30 AM: My last meeting for the week ends and I’m debating calling it a day so I can nap. Instead I make lunch (cheese bun and ham), text my other mother in law our plan for Saturday, and unload and reload the dishwasher and go back to work for at least another hour.
12:30-1 PM: I shower and do skin care
1-3 PM: Nap! Somewhere in this time FedEx comes and since I’m sleeping, we have to pick up on Monday. I’m not too sure what it is, I assume it’s our custom address stamp from Etsy because that’s the only thing I’ve bought recently but not too sure. I just realized in retrospect, this might be my new work phone.
3-5 PM: I prep dinner (nachos), unload the dishwasher, pack my overnight bag and confirm all our venue tours by email. I start a load of laundry and do a quick clean. I feel like this is not the best image of our diet. I swear we generally eat healthy but we both have been feeling really blah over the past two weeks so have been going for quick and easy over healthy and balanced. I do have three whole peppers and two whole avocados in the nachos though.
5-7 PM: Spouse comes home, we walk the dog, have dinner, and plan out next week. We have a big Wednesday next week (mechanic, I have a nails appointment, dance class), and we are having our friends over for Easter so we need to prep for that. We pack the car so tomorrow is a very easy start.
Spouse also gets paid today. We’re lucky that we’re on alternating pay periods, we used to be on the same and it always felt stressful. Spouse also lets me know his union has secured a 3% cost of living raise to start in Q3. I really like his union for negotiating a base 2% year of cost of living raise, with potential addition raises depending on inflation. It’s a bit away but that’s still good news.
7:30-10:30 PM: We finish The Rookie Season 3 and head to bed. Crave reminds me that I have 10 days until I’m charged again. Sadly, I think we’ll have to pay for 2 months.
Day Six Total: 0
Day Seven Saturday
8:30-9:30 AM: Wake up. No one (except the dog) slept well so we’re not in a morning mood. Spouse makes coffee and walks the dog, while I finish packing the car and give the cat a lot of attention. Our first venue tour is at 11 and the one that is the most expensive (8-10K), but also the one we probably want the most. We live about an hour away but the highway is two lanes and one accident can back everything up for hours.
10:40-1 PM: We visit our dream venue. We stay way longer than expected. Basically if the quote is under 10K, we’ll get it. Just waiting now.
1-2 PM: We get to our in-laws and have a lunch of egg salad sandwhichs. We need to buy gas. My in laws drive us to a pottery painting store.
2-4 PM: We paint pottery. My mother in law only wanted to do this for her birthday. They’ll pick it up in a week after it’s been thrown. I paint a vase (28$), Spouse paints an Easter egg (18$), father in law paints a mug (30$), and mother in law paints a plate (50$)
Total:143.36/credit card
4-5 Pm: We see another venue. It’s an instant no. My in laws decide they want to try Korean fried chicken. We call ahead for take out to get two fries and 16 pieces of half and half. It comes to 50.83$ that my in laws pay for.
5-10 PM: We come back and see that our dog has pooped in their house and also has gotten into their pantry and eaten an entire bag of dog food. It is not a fun night.
We spend the night drinking wine and discussing the wedding and watching TV.
10PM: We go to bed. That’s the end of this week, but tomorrow we will be buying gas and probably lunch for my other mother in law as we will be touring another venue.
Day Seven Total: 143.36$

It's my 7th month working for my American boss (52/F) and I bought her a $75 gift basket for her birthday. It's an assortment of food/snacks in a wicker basket in clear plastic wrap with gold flecks and a generous twirly ribbon tied to it. It looks really cute.
It's her birthday next month (June), but she mentioned more than a couple of times that she will likely be having a rough birthday week since her dad died early this year, and her birthday is a couple of days after Father's Day. I wanted to show my appreciation and give her a little comfort.
She's not a perfect boss, but she's been extremely patient and generous. For example:

• She gave me P16,000 pesos Christmas bonus on my 2nd month, and financed for my printer and 2nd monitor
• I have a generous monthly pay of approx. P70,000 pesos and a light workload (rarely heavy).
• She doesn't dock my pay even when I took a 1-day leave (due to surgery, she said she was too lazy to change her auto-pay lol)

However, some posts on the internet say giving superiors gifts is inappropriate in the US. Did I cross any line??? Please advise.

WARNING: CONTAINS A LOT OF SPOILERS
Introduction:
Hello there! My name is Brian, and I am interested in this Reddit group because Hell's Kitchen is one of my favorite TV shows. I am particularly fond of the Thailand variant since I have experience visiting a Thai restaurant.
For those of you who don't know, I work on Hell's Kitchen fanon projects as part of the community.
I have been thinking about the new contestants, head chefs, sous chefs, and maître d’hôtel. If it were up to me, Hell's Kitchen would take place in Tokyo instead of Los Angeles/Las Vegas, since Japan is a popular tourist destination. In this version, Gordon Ramsay would not be featured, but instead, he would appear as a guest judge in future episodes.
Interestingly, none of the contestants would have any culinary experience, and they would be aged between 21-35 and come from different parts of the world. I am anticipating the presence of a main protagonist, a main antagonist, some supporting characters, and a few minor characters.
Lastly, I would not include their last names to protect their privacy.
Blue Team:
Ben, 25, YouTuber & Philanthropist, Greenville, North Carolina
Bianca, 31, Book Reviewer, Milan, Italy
Brian, 25, Voice Actor, Los Angeles, California
Cecilia, 23, Cosplayer, Atlanta, Georgia
Corrie, 35, YouTube Gamer, Amsterdam, Netherlands
David, 27, Musician & Singer, Evansville, Indiana
Domingos, 30, Tech YouTuber, Lisbon, Portugal
Efrain, 30, YouTube Gamer, Madrid, Spain
Evelyn, 29, Tailor, Yerevan, Armenia
Evert, 26, YouTuber & Actor, Zoetermeer, Netherlands
Georgina, 27, Digital Content Creator, Tirana, Albania
Gisele, 26, Disney & Pokémon YouTuber, Asnières-sur-Seine, France
Hans, 34, YouTuber & Game Director, Oslo, Norway
Herve, 27, Japanese Culture YouTuber, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France
Isaias, 22, YouTube Gamer, Montevideo, Uruguay
Justine, 27, Writer & Illustrator, Adelaide, Australia
Karlotta, 29, Anime & Manga YouTuber, Hamburg, Germany
Lucas, 29, YouTube Gamer, Dallas, Texas
Marco, 29, YouTuber & Musician, Savona, Italy
Mathieu, 32, YouTube Comedian & Vlogger, Paris, France
Priya, 22, Model & Cosplayer, Guwahati, India
Raquel, 29, Content Creator, Madrid, Spain
Shirlene, 30, Blogger, Chelmsford, United Kingdom
Valerie, 21, Chess Player, Fuengirola, Spain
Wendy, 29, Model & Singer, Minsk, Belarus
Red Team:
Alex, 27, Commentator, La Crosse, Wisconsin
Amelie, 28, Digital Creator, Paris, France
Brendan, 27, Twitch Streamer, Trenton, New Jersey
Caroline, 29, Twitch Streamer, Trenton, New Jersey
Claudio, 24, Gameplay Commentator, Mallorca, Spain
Diana, 26, Model, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Felix, 29, Podcaster & YouTuber, Sydney, Australia
Flora, 31, Lifestyle & Travel Luxury Creator, Jakarta, Indonesia
Franklin, 25, Author, Brighton, United Kingdom
Hannelore, 29, YouTuber & Podcaster, Munich, Germany
Herman, 34, YouTuber, Vlaardingen, Netherlands
Iris, 28, Twitch Streamer, Chicago, Illinois
Karen, 28, Anime YouTuber, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Kyllian, 28, Live Streamer & YouTuber, Hollis, New Hampshire
Larisa, 25, Writer & Wellness Teacher, Ljubljana, Slovenia
Natalie, 32, Cosplayer & Twitch Streamer, Belfast, United Kingdom
Nicholas, 24, Presenter & Podcaster, Blackpool, United Kingdom
Noah, 27, Twitch Streamer & YouTuber, Denbigh, United Kingdom
Olga, 22, Content Creator, Moscow, Russia
Paul, 30, YouTuber & Editor, Tallinn, Estonia
Stefano, 31, YouTube Gamer, Rome, Italy
Tamiko, 34, Entrepreneur, Los Angeles, California
Teresa, 33, Youtuber & Blogger, Perth, Australia
Tobias, 31, Photographer, Dublin, Ireland
Tristan, 33, Podcaster & YouTuber, Bangkok, Thailand
Head Chefs:
Jake, 34, Maidstone, United Kingdom: Jake is a strict and short-tempered perfectionist chef who gets easily frustrated when his chefs make mistakes such as serving raw food, not communicating properly, or talking back to him. However, he does care for chefs who try their best, as he always expects the best from every chef he works with. Jake is also known to make sarcastic comments by comparing served food to something else or even customers when they try to confront him. Despite his criticisms and insults, Jake's intention is to find out which chef has the potential to be his new head chef. None of the critiques and insults he gave out were too personal, and there are rare occasions where he gives praise to a chef and lets them know they are doing well. For this reason, he earned the nickname "Asian Gordon Ramsay".
Kim, 40, Boston, Massachusetts: Kim is one of the head chefs that Jake hired, and she acts as his right-hand woman during services. Unlike her co-workers Jake, Eleanor, Lola, and Renata, Kim is always calm and collected and never gets angry, even when chefs make mistakes. She is generally a charming and cheerful person who provides chefs with advice and encouragement to help them succeed during dinner service and any challenges that may arise.
Eleanor, 71, New York City, New York: Eleanor is one of the head chefs hired by Jake and she acts as his right-hand woman during services. She is generally more subdued than Jake and Renata, but she has her limits. When she is pushed, she will lash out at any chef who disrespects her. She can also become rude and annoyed when chefs are being unprofessional and talking back to her. However, overall, Eleanor is a nice and helpful person. She has a lot of cooking experience in the past, and is known for preparing restaurant-quality dishes.
Lola, 48, Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico: Lola is one of the head chefs hired by Jake. She acts as his right-hand woman during services, and holds the same high standards as Jake. Lola often gets irritated by contestants' constant mistakes. However, she is not as subdued as Kim, Eleanor, and Renata. She has her limits, and when pushed, she will lash out at any chef who disrespects her. Lola becomes stern when the chefs aren't doing their jobs properly. She easily gets angry, uses vulgar language, and is sarcastic when a chef is not professional, makes mistakes, or fails to meet Jake's standards. Despite this, Lola is generally kind and humorous.
Renata, 42, Berea, Ohio: Renata is one of the head chefs hired by Jake. She acts as his right-hand woman during services, holding the same high standards as Jake. However, she can become irritated by the constant mistakes made by the contestants. While she is more subdued than Jake and Eleanor, she has her limits when pushed and would lash out at any disrespectful contestant. Her behavior is often passive-aggressive. Renata becomes stern when the contestants don't take the competition seriously. Her criticisms can be considered slightly or overly harsh, sometimes even taking a contestant's poor performance as a personal insult and berating them for their mistakes. Otherwise, Renata is generally respectful and polite. She is an expert in desserts.
Sous Chefs:
Wilson, 27, Union, Missouri: Wilson is Jake's Sous Chef and acts as his right-hand man during services. He holds the same high standards as Jake and gets irritated by the constant mistakes of contestants. Wilson is generally calm and composed, but he becomes stern when chefs fail to do their jobs properly. He warns them that he can be as aggressive and harsh on them as he won't tolerate poor performances leading to bad dinner services or losing challenges.
Lily, 32, Chicago, Illinois: Lily, the Sous Chef of Jake, serves as his main assistant during services. She shares the same standards as Jake and often gets frustrated by the constant mistakes of the contestants. Despite that, Lily is generally friendly and caring. However, she has her limits, and if disrespected, she will become stern and lash out at the chefs. She is known to lose her temper with chefs who do not perform their jobs adequately during dinner services or in challenges.
Maître d’hôtel:
Louise, 34, Toronto, Canada: Louise was one of the most respected and loveable staff in the history of the show. As the Maître d'hôtel at Hell's Kitchen, she served at the front of the house and often handed out tickets to Jake. If there was a tableside dish, she was responsible for instructing the assigned chefs on how to make it, due to her vast experience in cooking. However, she would get upset with the chefs when they made mistakes that resulted in customer complaints.
Conclusion:
I have created a detailed summary for my upcoming project. I plan to release the first episode when I can find some free time. It will either premiere after the conclusion of Hell's Kitchen Thailand or at a time that I believe is appropriate. This project will have more intense and unique rewards and punishments compared to the previous ones. As expected, none of the contestants will be nominated by the head chefs, and all of them will be eliminated properly, except for the Running the Pass Service. The head chefs are expecting two chefs before the finale. I also expected the teams to not be divided by gender. I would love to see friendships and romance develop between members of opposite genders. Furthermore, I'm excited to see how the best blue team and the worst red team in the show's history compare to previous seasons. There is going to be more drama, bad dinner services, and brutality, unlike Gordon Ramsay's version. As anticipated, there will be no punishment pass, Cook For Your Life Challenge, and Black Jackets Challenge because it would not be fair for certain chefs who wanted a reward and stayed in the competition for obvious reasons. The winner of this series will receive a prestigious head chef position at the Gordon Ramsay Bar & Grill Restaurant in Sunway City, Kuala Lumpur, with a salary of $250,000. Interestingly, all the chefs who competed throughout the series will return for the finale to join one of the largest Final Service Brigades in the show's history. Please let me know if any changes need to be made. I'll put contestants' personalities next time as a separate post, due to space limit on Reddit.
Here's the link: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1rJkba0klyA99Sd-gXyK_EtjtT2FXb_hT?usp=sharing

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

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

My(35m) girlfriend(32m) have been dating for roughly 2years and living together for 1year. She has 3 boys(10, 9, 4) I have no kids if my own. The older two call me dad and respect me as such, they however are very lazy and disobedient when I’m not around (my previous post longing for help with this was met with awesome feedback). And the 4 year old is a complete mess, anti social and 100% mamas boy. I’ve recently set boundaries to prevent myself from being the maid/nanny where I won’t be picking up after them, doing ALL the chores only to come home to a mess. FYI she works mornings and I work evenings. The issue I’m facing is that every time we go out shopping, park, amusement park etc. the 4 year old is unnecessarily made the centre of it all with his horrible behaviour, he doesn’t listen to me or gf, throws fits and runs wild. Every park visit and even beach visit is all about chasing him around catering to his needs, I used to love the beach and now I hate it. I’m always the 3rd wheel as the older boys do their thing and she chases the 4yo around. She’s convinced this is normal and won’t understand that he needs to behave better and listen for everyone involved to enjoy their time. If he would just listen it would be so much better that way we can play together but he’s just off fuckin disobeying…..kinda like he does it on purpose or something.
He cries and throws fits on occasions like birthdays and Christmas if he’s not centre of attention and unwrapping presents. Ex. Mother’s Day, didn’t even come out his room when asked to see mom, just threw tantrums cause she had gifts. He doesn’t sleep at night, just leaves his room and goes through everything, this morning I found a carton of eggs on his bed and 1 egg missing (I work out and watch my nutrition and buy my own groceries and help her financially with hers and the kids) so the food waste kills me, and he wastes 1/2 of all foods! And that egg was 7g protein!!!!!!! LOL
I’m made to be the bad guy and overly critical when all I ask is to allow him to at least try and be an individual to a tiny degree as this sept. He’s going to school (I don’t look forward to the storms that’ll come with that). So, basically that’s like 50% of the issues, but what I have told my gf is that for my own self respect and mental health I do not want to go in public with him, until he learns and she teaches him good behaviour I would not like to waste my time going out and feeling like crap and third wheeling, her response is that she wants a partner to do family things with and who enjoys all of her kids etc. it’s like she’s in denial that even she’s embarrassed and hates it half the time. Now it’s either I don’t go and she treats me like a stranger all weekend or I go and get crapped on for ‘looking miserable’ and eventually end up chasing 4yo around. Feels like a lose lose thus I resent weekends.
My gf calls my evil and a hater when I keep my distance from him, calls me a bully when I call him out for not washing hands (I’m a retired healthcare provider and like to be clean myself and my home). She will shut down intimacy sometimes based on how my interactions with him go. It’s INSANE. To the point getting engaged is no longer a short term goal as she needs me to love him and pamper him to be approved for her hand. Wtf! Hahahaha so weird rereading that!
Am I wrong to not want to put myself in those situations? Should I just go out with them and pretend I’m okay? Like I’m even in therapy because of them and next visit I’m addressing this. Although my therapist told me her husband doesn’t go EVERYWHERE with her and their kid. It makes me unhappy and only do it cause gf says it’s important to her, even though 90% of outings end in her and I arguing because her kid SUCKS! This has me so sad, lost, and misunderstood. I love them all and do all I can for them, but I feel for my sanity in trying to draw a line (temporarily) yet she loses her mind thinking I don’t love him. what to do, oh what to do?

hey everyone! i'll be visiting family in the US over the summer (Kansas city area) and haven't been back since I was diagnosed Celiac. I currently live in Germany and was in Spain before, so while I have some really delicious bakery options, some of the ready-to-eat options are nearly non-existant.
Anyways, would love some recommendations of any of your favorite foods that I should chow down on while I'm there and if there are any pre-made mixes that you recommend that I could bring back with me.
And, if anyone happens to be in the KC area, I would love some restaurant recommendations!

I’m traveling to Europe for work next month and have a weekend to spare. Have been debating between the two cities in Spain. Which would you say is more fun? For cruising hotties, meeting people my age (20s), techno or hip hop music, clubbing, food, relaxing, accepting of POC.
I live in SoCal, so the beach isn’t a big determining factor for me.

Hello, 

Sorry, it's a long one, but I could really use your advice 😞. I'm not sure if I'm being paranoid due to my insecure attachment style and past relationship baggage, or if my gut feeling is onto something and I'm slowly losing it... My partner (46M) and I (40F) have been together for nearly a year, but so far, I've only met one of his friends and not a single family member on his side. He has met several of my friends. I have no contact with my family since almost 6 years, so he technically also never met someone of my family.
We met about a year and a half ago on a dating app geared towards casual dating. At that time, neither of us were looking for a serious relationship; we were just in it for some casual fun. On our first date, he mentioned he was still technically married but separated from his wife for about a year, and they shared a 13-year-old son. Since the separation, he's been staying with his parents, while his wife and son reside in the adjacent house. He never spoke ill of his wife, which is something I really appreciate.
He claimed it was love at first sight for him when he first met me, but I didn't feel the same way. I found him intriguing and attractive, but the idea of a relationship didn't appeal to me at that moment, mainly due to our lack of shared interests. He never pressured me and always respected my space, but he did actively pursue me. For every date we had, he brought food and flowers, even though we were just friends with benefits at that point. He also went above and beyond, helping me with various tasks like gardening, fixing my shower and car, all at his own expense. And even insisted on me not paying him back. He even picked me up in the wee hours of the morning when I was stranded in a bar with friends and couldn't find my way home, had medications delivered to my doorstep when we both had COVID-19 and couldn't meet, and these are just a few examples...
Our physical connection is fantastic, and he is very attentive to my needs. Surprisingly, from the beginning we also had dates without sex, despite that being our initial intention. Things quickly became emotionally and mentally intimate, and we started sharing more and more of ourselves. He treated me with more care and attention than anyone ever had, which initially set off alarm bells in my head, but his gestures continued, I just found myself enjoying his company immensely, both in and out of bed, feeling incredibly comfortable and happy with him. He always made me feel valued and appreciated, never failing to be loving and attentive. And to this day there has never been a single negative word or action from him towards me.
Around four months into our dating, he had to travel abroad for work for a week. During that time apart, I unexpectedly found myself missing him dearly, which came as a surprise because I wasn't looking for a serious relationship. One evening during that week, he insisted on hearing my voice, and we ended up talking on the phone all night. A few days later, I confessed to him that I missed him more than I expected and that everything felt strange, especially since I didn't even know his last name. In response, he admitted feeling the same way and expressed his desire to come over and properly introduce himself when he returned. True to his word, he showed up at my door late that night, despite his delayed flight.
However, what followed was a bombshell. As he sat on my couch, he handed me his ID, revealing not only his last name but also a different first name, birthdate, and birthplace. I was so stunned and literally nearly passed out. He had lied about his first name and was actually two years older than he claimed. Even details about his son, whom he claimed was 13, turned out to be false; the boy was actually 17. This revelation shook me to the core because I had never suspected he was lying to me. Being the child of an alcoholic, I prided myself on having keen intuition, but I had failed to detect his deceit. While I had actually suspected he was still married to his wife, his lies about his identity blindsided me. He apologized profusely that night, explaining that he didn't know how to come clean after lying for so long. But when I confronted him about his last name, he realized he couldn't keep up the facade any longer.
He confessed that he and his wife had indeed been living separate lives for a while, even agreeing to see other people. However, a woman he had met on the dating app years ago had stalked him, leading him to adopt a new identity to protect himself. He never intended to fall in love with someone and only sought casual arrangements. Although they broke up, he maintained proximity due to familial and business obligations, leading him to remain close to his family, and he committed to fulfilling his responsibilities towards them. His wife suffered from cancer a few years ago, which apparently returned at the beginning of this year.
The day after this revelation, he came to speak with me during his lunch break, begging for another chance. The following weekend, I met his best friend for the first time. Despite my shattered trust, I believed that he was sincere in his remorse and transparency, so we decided to it another shot and shortly after even committed to an official relationship. Things seemed to go well afterward; we even went on a vacation together, and he started spending more nights at my place. He continued to be incredibly supportive and attentive to my needs. However, he never made any efforts for me to meet his son, which I tried to understand given the sensitivity of the situation.
About three months later, I broached the subject of meeting his son again, but he claimed that he and his wife had agreed to wait until their son had settled into his first semester at university before introducing him to me. I had no children of my own so I have no experience with this, but friends of mine with adult children suggested that it was unusual to wait so long. Despite my doubts, I trusted his explanation, although I wondered if his family even knew about me. He told me that he was committed to his family until the end of the year and planned to move out thereafter. However, when the year ended, his mother caused a commotion when he moved out, leading to our first crisis over Christmas.
His parents insisted that he drive them to a city four hours away on Christmas Eve to celebrate with relatives, which disappointed me, but I understood. I assumed he would want to spend Christmas Eve with his son, so I suggested that we meet on Christmas Day instead to cook and spend a nice evening together. He informed me that his son didn't want to celebrate Christmas with the family anyway, so my suggestion was fine. Although we spent the evening before Christmas Eve together, our plans were disrupted when he insisted on going home instead of staying over as originally planned, leading to our first argument. He received a message from someone, read it, and his demeanor completely changed; he began to repeatedly look at the clock. When I asked, he said he needed to go home. I asked if I could read the message because I immediately had a bad gut feeling, but he declined and drove off. Despite feeling uneasy, I let it go until Christmas Day, when he arrived two hours late without prior notice. Also, I only rarely heard from him the entire Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day, which is pretty unusual for him. This pattern continued after Christmas, with him becoming increasingly unreliable with his timing. After pressing him on the matter of meeting his son and family soon, he admitted that his family was resistant to the idea of accepting me due to their loyalty to his wife.
Our relationship hit another rough patch on Easter when he spent Easter Saturday with his son, arriving at my place much later than expected. Frustrated that I still hadn't met his son, I confronted him, leading to another argument and him storming off to his best friend's place without contacting me for the rest of the day. His lack of communication left me feeling hurt and confused, but we eventually reconciled after a few days. Even today, we're still crazy about each other and often behave like teenagers. But for some time now, I haven't been able to enjoy our meetings. I question everything he says and does, wondering, can I believe him? Can I trust him? He lied to me so skillfully at the beginning. Is what he says about his family even true? It feels like we're not making any progress. He insists it's exactly as he says. But over a year has passed, and it seems like nothing has changed. I just have to keep being patient and endure.
Actually, he never really settled into his own apartment. Everything is makeshift; there's no functional kitchen, no chairs... not even a mirror in the bathroom. Yet, we still occasionally sleep there. At first, it was amusing, but we’re both two old for this sh*t and the student apartment adventure ended for me after five months of stagnation. I really tried to make the best of it, and I'm actually really self-sufficient and easygoing. But it has become draining... He also sleeps at his family's place more often lately, and less frequently at my place...
What are your thoughts on this? Am I overreacting? Should I give him and his family more time? I'm feeling exhausted and grappling with my trust issues. Am I being paranoid, or is my gut feeling accurate? What steps should I take? Extend more patience? Show more understanding towards his son and family for their reluctance to get to know me? Consider giving him an ultimatum? I'm feeling lost.

I have not traveled much due to fear and finances but I am not getting any younger and want to enjoy life more and not just work and pay bills.
How do you plan an engaging and fun experience while traveling? I don’t want to spend a bunch of money and time for a mediocre experience. And I don’t want to end up doing the same exact things I could do at home.
It always seem like when people travel and post on social media all they do is go to parties/clubs, restaurants, bars, and a beach. These are all things I can do in my own city/country.
How do you plan a once in a lifetime type of trip?
Some places I would like to go: Spain, Italy, Greece, Paris, London, South Africa, Puerto Rico, California, New Orleans, North Carolina
I like Food, Dancing, Music/Live Music, Culture, Art, Theater, and Doing things that are fun and active

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My friend Yan is putting on a comedy show at Cloud & Spirits this Thursday. Tickets are limited; go check it out I promise you'll have fun.

THURSDAY - MAY 16

Tapered Expectations XXI: "Above the Clouds" - A Standup Comedy Event @ Cloud & Spirits @ 7PM Acquired Taste Comedy is back at Cloud & Spirits with another signature Standup Comedy Event. Catch a carefully curated selection of the area's funniest comics along with a special musical guest at a breathtaking cocktail bar in Central Square!
Red Sox vs Rays @ Fenway Park @ 7:10PM
Asi Wind’s Magic Show @ The Wilbur @ 7:30PM Being one of the most-watched magicians in the world, Asi Wind presents a new show where he pushes the limits of belief even further with unbelievable mind-reading and astonishing magic.
Candlelight: A Tribute to Adele in Concert @ Temple Ohabei Shalom @ 7PM / 9PM
Marc Martel & One Vision of Queen Concert @ Symphony Hall @ 7:30PM The Pops will rock you when Marc Martel brings the iconic anthems of Queen to Symphony Hall.
Diana Ross @ Wang Theatre @ 7:30PM See the iconic and legendary Diana Ross perform the hits that have defined her career.
Cooper Alan @ Paradise Rock Club @ 8PM With Thomas Mac
Lords of Acid @ Brighton Music Hall @ 6:30PM
Ben Beal @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

FRIDAY - MAY 17

Bruins vs Panthers @ TD Garden
Madeleine Peyroux @ The Wilbur @ 8PM
Neil Young & Crazy Horse @ Xfinity Center @ 7:30PM
Wild Child @ Paradise Rock Club @ 8PM
Soen @ Brighton Music Hall @ 8PM
Tye Tribbett and Friends @ Orpheum Theatre @ 7:30PM
Galantis @ Big Night Live @ 9:30PM
Hermanos Gutiérrez @ Royale @ 6PM
Tinlicker @ Royale @ 10PM
Buck Meek of Big Thief @ Crystal Ballroom @ 8PM
Anders Osborne Trio @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

SATURDAY - MAY 18

Watertown Porchfest @ Watertown @ All day
Revolution vs Philadelphia Union @ Gillette Stadium @ 7:30PM
Dancing on the Charles @ Marsh Post #442 @ 3PM Montreal deep house DJ Fred Everything headlines this marathon outdoor dance party, running from late afternoon into the night.
Ales & Tales @ Stone Zoo @ 5:30PM Walk on the wild side while enjoying local craft beverages. This popular beer tasting event is a favorite among animal and beer lovers alike!
Kite & Bike Festival @ Franklin Park @ 12PM This Boston tradition brings families together to enjoy picnicking, kite flying, bicycles & music.
Ongoing - Artisan Market @ Rose Kennedy Greenway @ 11AM
Kevin James Comedy Show @ Chevalier Theatre @ 4:30PM / 7:30PM
Jimmy Failla Comedy Show @ Shubert Theatre @ 8PM
‘Encanto’ in Concert @ Symphony Hall @ 2PM Disney’s Academy Award-winning film comes to life in a concert event, featuring the entire feature-length film with a full orchestra performing the score.
The String Cheese Incident @ MGM Music Hall @ 7:15PM
Robyn Schall Stand Up @ The Wilbur @ 7PM
Sorry Papi @ House of Blues @ 9PM
James Arthur @ Roadrunner @ 8PM With Forest Blakk
The Music of Talking Heads & More for Kids @ Paradise Rock Club @ 11AM *Presented by The Rock and Roll Playhouse
Orgy + COLD @ Brighton Music Hall @ 8PM
Gimme Gimme Disco @ Big Night Live @ 5:30PM
Arty @ Big Night Live @ 10:30PM
The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis @ Crystal Ballroom @ 8PM
Chris Smither + Peter Mulvey @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

SUNDAY - MAY 19

Celtics vs Cavaliers @ TD Garden
Kite Festival @ Revere Beach Kick off beach season with a fun day for the whole family complete with build-your-own kite stations, professional kite flyers, live music, and other activities!
Ongoing - Open Market @ SoWa @ 11AM One of the largest open-air farmer and artist markets returns this summer season!
‘Dropouts’ Podcast Live @ Paradise Rock Club @ 7PM Come see internet stars Zach Justice, Tara Yummy & Jared Bailey discuss latest hot topics, celebrity gossip, and personal dramas live!
Electric Callboy @ MGM Music Hall @ 7PM
Deko @ Brighton Music Hall @ 7PM With Yameii
Mk.gee @ The Sinclair @ 7:30PM
Guppy @ The Rockwell @ 7:30PM
Big Bad Voodoo Daddy @ The Wilbur @ 7PM
Compaq Big Band @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

ALL WEEKEND

FRIDAY & SATURDAY - Amanda Seales Stand Up @ Laugh Boston
FRIDAY & SATURDAY - Zach Brazao Stand Up @ Nick’s Comedy Stop @ 8PM
SATURDAY & SUNDAY - ‘Bluey’s Big Play’ Show @ Wang Theatre ‘Bluey’s Big Play’ is a brand-new theatrical adaptation of the Emmy award-winning children’s television series featuring new music and new character adventures.
All weekend - Jukebox The Ghost @ The Sinclair @ 8PM
All weekend - Nantucket Wine & Food Festival Enjoy food and drinks tastings, seminars, brunches, and parties as the annual festival uncorks the island for the summer!
All weekend -’Hallyu Hits: Korean Films that Moved the World @ MFA See the best of Korean cinema including ‘Oldboy,’ ‘Parasites,’ and ‘Burning.’
All weekend - ‘Spring Experience’ Ballet @ Citizens Bank Opera House LAST CHANCE - Explore Boston Ballet’s dynamic and captivating Spring program composed of three masterful ballets featuring classical and modern dance elements.
All weekend - ‘BABYBABYBABY’ Dance Performance @ Calderwood Pavilion This contemporary dance production taps into the feeling of falling in love and reflects on the human impulse for connection and intimacy.
All weekend - ‘A Strange Loop’ Musical @ Wimberly Theatre Winner of Pulitzer Prize and a Tony Award, Michael R. Jackson’s blisteringly funny masterwork exposes the heart and soul of a young Black artist grappling with desires, identity, and instincts he both loves and loathes.
All weekend - ‘Jersey Boys’ Musical @ North Shore Music Theatre LAST CHANCE - Featuring legendary hits, this award-winning musical tells the behind-the-scenes drama of the international sensation boy band The Four Seasons.
All weekend - ‘Toni Stone’ Play @ The Huntington Theatre The Huntington’s season finale is a beautiful, rich portrait of a trailblazing woman. Follow the inspiring and life-affirming story of baseball legend Toni Stone.
All weekend - ‘Romeo and Juliet’ Play @ Calderwood Pavilion Brought to life by Actors’ Shakespeare Project, Shakespeare’s most famous duo return in a flurry of forbidden love, exhilarating fight scenes, and tragic fate.
All weekend - ‘Mermaid Hour’ Play @ Arrow Street Arts LAST CHANCE - Fast-paced, funny, and heartfelt, ‘Mermaid Hour’ follows two parents and their trans teen kid as they all seek to understand who they are and who they wish to be.

ONGOING

Ongoing - Immersive Disney Animation @ Boch Center Step into the art and legacy of Walt Disney Animation Studios and celebrate the music, artistry and animation from the creators of Frozen, The Little Mermaid, Big Hero 6 and many more.
Ongoing - Musical Shows @ MoS Planetarium Museum of Science puts on special experiences adapting the music of Pink Floyd, Rihanna, Beyoncé, and The Divas to immersive visuals in the Charles Hayden Planetarium.
Ongoing - ‘Firelei Báez’ Exhibition @ ICA One of the most exciting painters of her generation, Báez explores the multilayered legacy of colonial histories and the African diaspora in the Caribbean and beyond.
Ongoing - ‘Wordplay’ Exhibition @ ICA Highlighting the rich interplay between imagery and text, the exhibition showcases how contemporary artists have played with words to animate and expand their art practices.
Ongoing - ‘Hallyu! The Korean Wave’ Exhibition @ MFA Enjoy an immersive and multisensory journey through Korea’s fascinating history, and celebrate its contemporary vibrant creative force.
Ongoing - ‘Dress Up’ Exhibition @ MFA Through more than 100 works from the MFA’s collection including 20th- and 21st-century clothing, jewelry, accessories, illustrations, and photographs, this exhibition explores adornment and its role in the creation of a look.
Ongoing - ‘Comrade Sisters: Women of the Black Panther Party’ Exhibition @ MFA This exhibition brings together 27 powerful photographs by Stephen Shames that feature the women of the Black Panther party and showcase their crucial work for the movement.
Ongoing - ‘Thinking Small: Dutch Art to Scale’ Exhibition @ MFA Featuring 15 intriguing objects from 17th-century Netherlands such as paintings, prints, silver medals, and books, this exhibition compels viewers to reconsider their relationship to the world around them.
Ongoing - ‘Raqib Shaw: Ballads of East and West’ Exhibition @ ISG Museum Shaw’s images of magic and mystery combine Western artistic tradition with ornamental elements derived from the Japanese, Persian, and Indian cultures that he vividly remembers from his youth.
Ongoing - ‘Picasso: War, Combat, and Revolution’ Exhibition @ Harvard Art Museums The exhibition explores the dictator Francisco Franco’s Spain, imagery of death, struggles of good and evil, political and artistic revolution, and issues of desire and capture.
Ongoing - ‘Our Time on Earth’ Exhibition @ Peabody Essex Museum This traveling exhibition from the Barbican Centre in London celebrates the power of global creativity to transform the conversation around the climate emergency.
Ongoing - ‘AI: Mind the Gap’ Exhibition @ MIT Museum MIT Museum presents its latest riveting, interactive exhibit exploring the tremendous promise, unforeseen impacts, and everyday misconceptions of AI.

We are trying to plan our Italy vacation and I am having such a hard time so I’m looking for advice. Originally we had planned to go from Rome to Amalfi to Naples by car but after reading so much about the Amalfi coast in June it just does not seem to fit into our vacation style.
There are four of us traveling, my husband and I and our 2 teens (13 & 14 year old girls). The vacations we have loved so far are Costa Rica and New Zealand where we traveled around by car. We went to Spain and loved both Barcelona and Madrid but doing the 2 big cities together was so much. We wish we had broken it up with a smaller town. When we are back home in the US we do enjoy big cities but only for 3 or 4 days. Museums and fine but we can only manage 1 or 2 without getting bored, my husband loves architecture but the rest of us not so much, we love food, culture, and exploring different areas.
So here are my 2 possible itinerarys….
1) Rome 17-21st of June (already booked); high speed train to Bologna 21st-27th. We could possible do an overnight to a smaller town or stick to day trips.
2) Same itinerary as above except leave Bologna on the 24th and take a high speed train to Venice. Fly out of Venice.
3) Rome the 17th-21st. Rent a car and meander our way to Bologna. If we did this I’d love some recommendations on where to visit along the way.
I am so torn. We love renting a car and driving on our trips and being at our own pace/exploring but I don’t want to pick the wrong place or miss out on anything. Help! Thank you so much for any feedback.

What do I do? I’m a late bloomer and I’m struggling with this
After spending a few days working on this, there has been some progress. To summarize: I've been dating this girl for 9 months. About a month ago, I confessed my love for her, but she didn't say it back, instead expressing affection in other ways. A couple of weeks later, she ghosted me for a weekend, apologized, and we had a conversation. During that conversation, I went to her place seeking comfort because one of my friends had passed away. That's when she mentioned she wasn't sure about continuing the relationship because our feelings weren't on the same level. We agreed to give it another month, and that week was amazing. However, now she's ghosting me again, but for a longer period. We talked on Monday, but this time, I've been feeling limited in what I can say. I haven't reached out since, and it's been radio silence. She mentioned that her grandmother in the UK is getting worse and she's been reconsidering our relationship. She's been dismissive lately.
I've been working every day for the past two months and doing therapy for a few weeks. I've lost 40 pounds due to a lack of appetite, but I'm coping. Physically, I'm getting stronger, but mentally, it's tough. I'm tempted to send a voice note just to check in and let her know I'm here. I've done a lot for her, like making her birthdays, Valentine's Day, and Christmas special, and she was good to me at some point.
On the bright side, I've been doing well for myself. I recently styled an MLB player, got sponsored, and was interviewed for Style Canada, but I still can't find happiness.
During therapy on Monday, I was crying and asked my therapist for advice. She couldn't tell me what to do, but she suggested I block her on TikTok and Instagram, where she often posted about her social life, which made it harder for me to move on. She'd be partying while I was here crying, and it felt like she was trying to compete with me since she wants to start taking content creation seriously. I have a big following already and offered help, but she declined.
The reason it's been hard for me to let go is because she showed me how to have fun and be myself. We went to many concerts and had late-night adventures together. She was also my first sexual partner at 26 years old and the first girl to make my birthday special.
Blocking her felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders, and it feels like life is just beginning now.
The last time we talked was on Wednesday when I saw her. She barely kissed me and wasn't "feeling it." I even got her food and flowers. She said she was meeting a guy friend and looked excited, which made me jealous because she's been avoiding dates with me. She said she'd try on a dress I made for her that night but later messaged me saying she was going to bed because she finished her tasks late. I said okay and left it to her to message me, but I haven't heard from her yet.
I was the first guy to meet her mom and she met my family. Then, one day she went cold turkey. She said she had love for me but wasn't in love with me and that since she never been in a relationship she had nothing to base it on (which I didn’t buy). She also said that she came from a broken home and can't give me what I want, but at the beginning, she said she could (I want what my parents have; they've been together for 35+ years with strong faith).
How do you guys handle this? I'm a late bloomer at 26 years old and have OCD.

I work at this tiny restaurant, everyone there pours their heart and soul in to it (myself included), it's fine dining food (tasting menus etc.) with a relaxed atmosphere and a casual style of service. We have a host of reviews (most of which are 5 stars) that rave about how excellent the food and service are but I've recently been named personally in two bad reviews and I feel awful. One was two weeks ago, the other four weeks ago. They both accuse their waiter of being cocky, rude and condescending.
I got in to some bad habits over Christmas (a hellish time for hospitality staff as you guys know), work was stressful, home life was stressful, I was burnt out and I think I started to get a bit belligerent on occasion with difficult customers. I've noticed this and have been trying to reign it in, if anything being even nicer to customers who are difficult, but I saw these two reviews today and it's completely rocked me. I feel like I've let myself down and the business owners down. I feel like it defines me as a waiter. There was a time when I was so patient, observant and skilled and I feel like I've lost it through sheer fatigue. I'm questioning my capabilities and my suitability for the job.
Have you guys ever been named in bad reviews? Can you come back from it?
EDIT: Not trying to brag about the 5 star thing, just lending context as to why a bad review feels so significant.

the story is a long one. It starts with one of my friends, lets call him A. A was a good friend till 6/7th. During that time Covid struck so not much interaction with him. During 9/10th he got close to the top group the one with the toppers and assholes (they didnt like me, i scored well but stayed with the boys) we didnt have much interaction at that time but during 10th beginning we got close again and became good friends. During 11th, I really got into self improvement. Towards the middle of the session, I realized he would only contact me when needed or just send reels with no meaningful conversations. Whenever we would talk he would just talk about his other group (the one with a manchild who only goes to the gym and flexes how disciplined he is and talks shit about others, then two chainsmokers who just travel daily on their parents money) and how the manchild bugs him daily and how fed up he is with him but he still sticks with him because he is conventionally attractive and the others in the group are the kewl kind (smoking, vaping, drinking, clubbing, travelling all the time). I got to realize that i no longer could connect with him and that he would call me his 'homie' but displayed behaviors opposite to it. The biggest incident was when he told me and other friends (B who is on self improvement with me, C who became my friend this year and we trust each other, he tells me his secrets as well) that he would meet us on Saraswati Puja but stood us up. He told us he was really busy with some important work. Guess what, he uploaded his insta story where he met with the manchild RIGHT NEXT TO THE PUJA PENDAL and even went to eat with that group. The worst part? friend B say him with a girl (valentines day as well) where he saw him handing her flowers (he never told us about her). B got close to A just in 11 and this devastated him (both of them live close and went to the gym together but later stopped as A went to the gym too late) as he opened up to A. B called me all teary eyed (we went our ways after i gave him some money for an uber as i felt that that he would have to go home by bus and i had another function at home to help my mother), i consoled him and he went home. C too was angry but is not very close to A so wasnt as angry or sad as Me and B. I called some from his other group who is pretty chill and is just stuck with them as he is the manchild's friend and asked him about the girl. he told me that the girl was A's previous gf who he broke up with to get with a cheating gf which wrecked A's mental for the entirety of 10th. He told me how A was negligent even after getting together with her and that during a christmas party when his group and her went there. A left her alone to get food for the group, yes leaving his date alone because get it, the manchild was throwing a tantrum. The fucking nerve on that guy. AND THAT SLIPPERY BASTARD calls everyone else useless or retards because they dont go to the gym. THAT SPASTIC SPENDS 16 HRS DAILY ON CLASH AND INSTGRAM BTW, UPLOADING ASSTHETIC KA 14 pics.
me, B and C have cut him off and the guy from that other group has also distanced himself as we are in 12th and all that group does is roam mindlessly, take pics, eat out and go to gym.
Another story is that, another one of my "friend" had gone to boarding to study and has returned. However he had told me that he would not come back home this time and would stay there and study for 12, and guess what he told his return to almost everyone except me. He even went to eat out with people he calls annoying and disturbing but couldnt bother to tell me. Oh and he and A went to travel on a daily basis the last time.
I feel betrayed as after months of improving myself i realised that these guys weren't my friends. I thought the boarding guy was my friend because me, A and B went to his house on a weekly basis when he was here but now i realize it was always me organizing the meets and never him calling me or B there.
Right now i'm so content with my progress and the fact that me and B are on self improvement. but i just feel that i put so much effort for naught. the thing is that me, B and C are a bit unhinged but social when needed. the thing is that we dont pretend to be social at school that much and A is a sucker for fitting in so i always felt like he felt embarrassed from us. i now guess i was right.
Atleast B and C are my close friends as they are much more grounded and humble. C even called me to his secret birthday alongside B where he didnt even call any of his neighbourhood friends or childhood friends and we have honestly gotten to trust each other a lot.
Its just that A and boarding guy just seems like such wasted effort. Should i cut them off gradually like i do now or cut them off rapidly? I srsly need some help

the story is a long one. It starts with one of my friends, lets call him A. A was a good friend till 6/7th. During that time Covid struck so not much interaction with him. During 9/10th he got close to the top group the one with the toppers and assholes (they didnt like me, i scored well but stayed with the boys) we didnt have much interaction at that time but during 10th beginning we got close again and became good friends. During 11th, I really got into self improvement. Towards the middle of the session, I realized he would only contact me when needed or just send reels with no meaningful conversations. Whenever we would talk he would just talk about his other group (the one with a manchild who only goes to the gym and flexes how disciplined he is and talks shit about others, then two chainsmokers who just travel daily on their parents money) and how the manchild bugs him daily and how fed up he is with him but he still sticks with him because he is conventionally attractive and the others in the group are the kewl kind (smoking, vaping, drinking, clubbing, travelling all the time). I got to realize that i no longer could connect with him and that he would call me his 'homie' but displayed behaviors opposite to it. The biggest incident was when he told me and other friends (B who is on self improvement with me, C who became my friend this year and we trust each other, he tells me his secrets as well) that he would meet us on Saraswati Puja but stood us up. He told us he was really busy with some important work. Guess what, he uploaded his insta story where he met with the manchild RIGHT NEXT TO THE PUJA PENDAL and even went to eat with that group. The worst part? friend B say him with a girl (valentines day as well) where he saw him handing her flowers (he never told us about her). B got close to A just in 11 and this devastated him (both of them live close and went to the gym together but later stopped as A went to the gym too late) as he opened up to A. B called me all teary eyed (we went our ways after i gave him some money for an uber as i felt that that he would have to go home by bus and i had another function at home to help my mother), i consoled him and he went home. C too was angry but is not very close to A so wasnt as angry or sad as Me and B. I called some from his other group who is pretty chill and is just stuck with them as he is the manchild's friend and asked him about the girl. he told me that the girl was A's previous gf who he broke up with to get with a cheating gf which wrecked A's mental for the entirety of 10th. He told me how A was negligent even after getting together with her and that during a christmas party when his group and her went there. A left her alone to get food for the group, yes leaving his date alone because get it, the manchild was throwing a tantrum. The fucking nerve on that guy. AND THAT SLIPPERY BASTARD calls everyone else useless or retards because they dont go to the gym. THAT SPASTIC SPENDS 16 HRS DAILY ON CLASH AND INSTGRAM BTW, UPLOADING ASSTHETIC KA 14 pics.
me, B and C have cut him off and the guy from that other group has also distanced himself as we are in 12th and all that group does is roam mindlessly, take pics, eat out and go to gym.
Another story is that, another one of my "friend" had gone to boarding to study and has returned. However he had told me that he would not come back home this time and would stay there and study for 12, and guess what he told his return to almost everyone except me. He even went to eat out with people he calls annoying and disturbing but couldnt bother to tell me. Oh and he and A went to travel on a daily basis the last time.
I feel betrayed as after months of improving myself i realised that these guys weren't my friends. I thought the boarding guy was my friend because me, A and B went to his house on a weekly basis when he was here but now i realize it was always me organizing the meets and never him calling me or B there.
Right now i'm so content with my progress and the fact that me and B are on self improvement. but i just feel that i put so much effort for naught. the thing is that me, B and C are a bit unhinged but social when needed. the thing is that we dont pretend to be social at school that much and A is a sucker for fitting in so i always felt like he felt embarrassed from us. i now guess i was right.
Atleast B and C are my close friends as they are much more grounded and humble. C even called me to his secret birthday alongside B where he didnt even call any of his neighbourhood friends or childhood friends and we have honestly gotten to trust each other a lot.
Its just that A and boarding guy just seems like such wasted effort. Should i cut them off gradually like i do now or cut them off rapidly? I srsly need some help