Humorous sayings

I'm new to this subreddit and was strolling through some older posts and I saw the bee in the bus and it reminded me of a true story I once posted to FB. I thought some of you can probably relate and find humor in it.
From time to time, when people find out I drive a school bus, they say I probably have enough stories to write a book. Nope, not really...but today...
At 6:00 I pull around to pick up my boys athletics late run. They're already out and waiting on me. We load up, 12 high school athletes board, telling me where they need to go and sit down in the front half of the bus.
A bee flies in the window and suddenly these tough teens are screaming and jumping over seats and pushing each other to get away from this one inch long stinging insect. One bales out the front of the bus and the other 11 run to the back.
I just sigh because I can see no one else is going to take care of it. I grab my clipboard and push it out the window a couple of times but it keeps coming back. So the scared boys start telling me to kill it. Not my first choice...I mean my old plastic clipboard is my only weapon and frankly I don't want to clean bug guts off the back. But this is one of those clipboard that open and it's full of paper so it's pretty hefty.
At this point, the bee is on the roof hatch, so it is just a matter of squeezing it between the clipboard and roof. Only it didn't die. Now it's on the seat, so I cock the clipboard over my shoulder as if I at home plate and I swing like I mean it. My foe is stunned from my first attempt so it didn't even put up an objection. I nailed it, shattering the edge of my sun-brittle plastic clipboard.
It takes a moment to locate the enemy. He's on the seat twitching...not quite dead...but no longer a threat. I grab a couple of Kleenex and pick it up but decide not to throw it in my trashcan, lest it only be a ruse to lure me into letting down my guard. I take it to the trash barrel a few feet away and when I climb back on the boys are still in the back.
I tell the boys to stay like that so I can take a picture of them cowering in the back. Suddenly, shoulders square and denials ring through the air, but I saw them screaming like little girls and using each other as human shields and willing to sacrifice their brethren to stay safe. I don't take the picture because I am not allowed. And they take seats in the back. (Who can blame them? The windows in the front are open and that bee was still twitching.)
They'll probably have nightmares tonight.

Hello there thanks for your time, please forgive me if I've made any errors in posting here, I don't really use reddit often
The context:
I started using a site for skill sharing (I'd specifiy but the internet is smaller than it seems 😞) and after a week or two of using it, someone reached out to me, and when I replied the conversation sort of just took off naturally. We talked into late their time (there's a time difference) and then we started talking every day. It got to the point where we started sending a series of 15-20 messages to each other and the other person would reply later in the day with 15-20 of their own We stopped doing that (at one point I typed for an hour straight to reply, we didn't have time)
Some times we talk about the skills we were meaning to exchange but a lot of the time we just talk about life and things in general and I've come to look forward to their messages and sense of humor as well as their view on things.
So as the title says I think I've started to develop an attraction for them or the connection itself and I'm not sure what to do. Neither of us came there looking for anything except what we posted on the skillboard.
The problem is while I feel that is kind of a connection I can't tell if it's both ways or if they just enjoy talking. There's a slight language barrier (I speak their language just not fluently) so it's hard to tell what's flirting and what's nice, not to mention I've never been good at telling the difference over text.
I don't want to turn away from a potential connection but I don't want to embarrass them by taking a friendly relationship and making it personal and weird if I am wrong about it being both ways
I feel a little stupid writing it but the feelings are there whether stupid or not so I want advice. I can answer questions to help clear things up but I want to avoid being too clear in case they happen to check reddit (you never know)
Thank you for your reading

Hi y'all, this is on a throwaway
I 27f have been with my 28M boyfriend for 4.5 years now. We've lived together for the last 2 years with our two cats.
For work, I am a retail manager and work 40 h week and he's a custodian working ~20 h week.
Everything has been more or less great. We have some interests in common and we have bonded over things that we have discovered together like music and media. he cooks dinner for us many nights of the week and will make me breakfast when he can which I greatly appreciate! We have similar humor and joke around, we have vulnerable moments that make me feel seen and heard, and he's a very sweet guy. He compliments me and tells me I'm smart and beautiful and has always said that "I'm a catch" and he "wants to get married and spend the rest of his life with me" and "I'm the best thing to ever happen to him" and that makes me feel great! I'm doing a good job at being his girlfriend. Ill reciprocate the feelings when I feel them, telling him I find him attractive and interesting and fun to be around.
A few months ago I started taking a new medication (Zoloft, for the record) that I really like and makes me feel so much better mentally about myself and my life. Before, I was racked with anxiety and depression and it made it so hard for me to do anything. I'm highly functioning with my mental health so I still would work and see friends and family, take care of the apartment, but on the inside it was a warzone. Now I'm still dealing with anxiety but I'm noticing a perspective change in myself. I see stability in my mental state and want to try new things and live fully and actually take care of myself. Before I was just surviving my 20s and now I want to actually live my life.
He is also on a new medication that he has said has made his head a lot better of a place to be. He's been able to work on his hobbies more and is more relaxed. But... I am noticing that my boyfriend isn't progressing like an almost 30 year old growing adult would be. All he does (and has done for the majority of our relationship) is play video games, watch YouTube and movies, smoke weed, chat with his friends, and do some light chores. Mainly cleaning up the kitchen, and the litter boxes when I ask. I do have to ask him to clean up more specific areas if I want them done, otherwise it won't get done and I'll be the one to clean the rest of the apartment. He will leave dishes around in all rooms for days and food wrappers will just sit where they lay until he has a 'reason' to clean, like a friend coming over. Ive asked him why he does that and if he sees the mess, and he says he does, he doesn't know why he doesn't clean it up. He also eats in bed and gets crumbs everywhere and it drives me crazy!
We have had many different conversations about keeping our place clean and being better adults and it's gotten better since then, and I've asked him to help more with keeping up with the house things (dishes, garbage and recycling out, our common laundry to be done, bathroom clean) and he's been okay at that... I've told him that it's our home together and we need to do it together and he seems to agree.
Also don't get me wrong, I love smoking weed and playing video games too, but there has to be a balance. Like, work hard and get your stuff done and then use it as a reward. But I think he uses it to cope with his feelings that he's scared to face.
And when I ask him to do new things with me he seems to not be interested in the activity and I'm left feeling rejected. Even watching a movie or show I'm interested in, but he's not. He'll say some bs like how he's not in the mood for that right now. Even though I watch his weird movies and shows because he wants to and it matters to him! He'll also talk /constantly/ about the media we are consuming and certain aspects of the production and will talk my god damn ear off without letting me speak. I know he's excited about this thing that interest him, but it's incessant and not even a conversation.
We also haven't been connecting as much recently and don't talk together in depth about things as much as we once did, and our sex life is seriously once in a blue moon. like once a month if I'm lucky. I'm usually the one to initiate it when it does happen. We don't even make out for funsies anymore. I've asked him why we don't have sex often and he said it's because he doesn't want to force me to if I don't want to.... well, how am I supposed to know you want to have sex? Am I supposed to just tell you when I'm in the mood and then we'll do it? Circumstances have to line up for us to have sex 🤷🏼‍♀️ I've been chalking it up to being on the meds because low libido is a side effect. Could it also be us not having anything new to talk about and discover about each other?
I'm torn because I have empathy for him and his situation. I know his mental health issues are hard and the medication is helping him get to a better spot. I'm coming out of the pit I was living in, but I can see clearly that he's still in his pit.
I love him and I want to see him happy and thriving, focusing on his dreams and progressing in life. And I know it's up to him to want to make those changes and make life better for himself. But I can't be the one to always push him to work on himself. There is no growth mindset that I can see.
I'm getting to the point where I feel more like his mother than potential life partner... I am of the mindset where our relationship should be a collaboration and two functional adults coming together to make a beautiful life.
I want to give him time to learn and grow into the person I know he can be, but is that my projection of what I want him to be? Should I take this at face value and see that I have outgrown him? I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and know he will continue to grow, but am I 'wasting' my late 20s on someone who doesn't see what I see?
I want to talk to him about my doubts but he's been known to shut down and internalize the talk as critisism. I'm worried I'll break him if I'm honest with where I'm at...
TLDR: my (28m) boyfriend still acts like a teenager and I (27f) am wanting a man to build a life with. Do I help/wait for him to grow or cut my losses and start over?
Any words of wisdom and advice would be greatly appreciated 💖

Hey folks, 29, female, undiagnosed New profile since I haven’t had Reddit since high school 😅 Looking for people with similar stories. TL/DR symptoms, info, and self/treatment in comment.
Instead of rewriting it all, here’s the email I sent to my doctor: notes to the redditors are in parenthesis.
“Hi Sara, When we first met, I had some obvious priorities, so my [REDACTED unrelated stuff] took front seat. Now that I’m happy and comfortable with where we’re going, there’s something else I haven’t shared fully because one, I don’t even understand it well enough to talk about it, and two, I had the lump in my breast and that train wreck of a phone call from my mother during the last appointment. It was also difficult to come up with accurate words, so I looked up some clinical definitions of symptoms to make sure I was communicating effectively.
I have experienced these symptoms all my life, but within the last six months, there are times where they seemingly go off at once or on good days I barely feel them at all.
First, when I was young I’d have episodes of vomiting. My “episodes” are temperature dysregulation, removing any layers, usually a sweaty hot flash with pre-syncope, nausea, lightheadedness, severe headaches, confusion, ending in vomiting that lasted approx. 30 minutes.) I rarely have episode like this anymore, but they seem similar enough to bring up that this is how it started.
I would ride in the mini-van with a large “throw-up” bowl on my lap, hand towel, and a bottle of water on the way to daycare because I needed it so often when I was young. In Middle School, I got sick sitting down while playing in the school band winter performance. I wasn’t soloing or anything, just had to leave in the middle of a piece. In high school, it even made me have to leave the tech crew in an important scene in a theatre production because of a flare up.
In college, I would leave in the middle of class to excuse myself to go sit in the room next door and lay down in the nearest available classroom with the lights off and a wet towel on my neck or forehead. When I was at a restaurant, there was a running joke about someone walking in the freezer while I was quietly standing inside already from an episode.
The episodes were bad enough that friends would even treat me for heat exhaustion with cool towels, fans, and water. It happened when it was super hot more, but it still happened in air conditioned classrooms. To put it in perspective, my friends would sing a song about buzzards from summer camp at me because buzzards main defense mechanism is projectile vomiting and that’s the point of the song. I have better coping skills now, so I don’t vomit as much, but as an adult, it still happens about once a quarter.
I’ve also been the first to “go down” with pre-syncope symptoms in lines outside in moderately warm weather, on short walks around lakes, and the only thing I’ve ever heard from people that kind of worked was drink water and eat something bland. (An aside: Considering my favorite foods as a kid, pitted olives off my fingers with salted almonds or saltine cracker vienna sausage sandwiches, I feel like my preference in diet could say something about my sodium).
I didn’t see many doctors growing up so it wasn’t until I was 22 and in college that I was diagnosed with panic attacks and GAD. But… I’ve always suspected I may have been diagnosed incorrectly. It wasn’t even until after I had to leave in the middle of class and a professor saw me alone in a dark classroom, that’s when I saw the doctor.
He latched onto the fact I was anxious from life stuff that I had considered normal (dead dad, financially poor, failing school work from fatigue and overexertion doing the things I actually wanted to do with no help from professors other than “we’re all tired”) the doctor considered that to be anxiety inducing (lol it was) and gave me a medicine I can’t even remember. I stopped taking the medicine prescribed to me after three months because it wasn’t helping at all. Instead, it was giving me new symptoms.
I didn’t go back, unfortunately. I already had a distrust of the medical systems at the time and decided to just treat it myself. Experiencing anxiety and panic attacks as an adult now has helped me learn that the anxiety I was experiencing was a normal response to being a diagnosably depressed, closeted transgender person in gendered dorms on a southern christian campus. The “panic attacks”, as the doctor called them, were actually: nausea, lightheadedness, severe headaches, confusion, ending in vomiting that lasted approx. 30 minutes. I know now that those two things may be different.

Recently in the last six months, I’ve been experiencing lightheadedness and nausea mostly in the morning along with pretty heavy fatigue, restlessness, pain and discomfort in my legs, joint pain, inability to concentrate, throbbing headaches, night sweats, ear ringing, and severe hiccups that I’ve had every day for two months.
I’ve had week long hiccups before, but never like this. It’s hard not to find humor with everything among friends at work because hiccups are funny and I laugh at the time too, but after the last few months, I’m starting to get worried and the hiccups are starting to hurt.
Since last year, I’ve had progressing fatigue that sleep can’t fix. It’s hard to describe how difficult it is sometimes, but this last week I lost my ability to stand twice at the cafe register (I didn’t fall, I just desperately needed to sit down (I’m a cafe manager). This morning, it was hard to just get out of bed in the morning to simply brush my teeth, even with the success of antidepressants that I’m taking. Rather than my thoughts of apathy and emptiness weighing me down, it’s more like my battery is completely dead. Like my whole body is heavier. I take more naps, eating is becoming less of a priority, and staying in bed has contributed to my fatigue and my absence is affecting my relationships with friends, family, and is affecting my ability to work at the level I do. Ive had to cut my hours at work by 20%. I’ve had these symptoms plenty throughout my life until it started getting much worse after I had covid in early December of 2023. (Idk if it’s related but it was about that time)
Since getting on HRT and mood stabilizers in April 2022, I’ve had bright red blood in my stool occasionally. I wanted to check in again to say that it was still happening in case I forgot to mention it. (I don’t thinks its a prolapse, hemorrhoid or fissure, but I have a GI appt in June.
I’ve given myself the “At-home” tilt table test multiple times with an old Apple Watch. Tonight, my heart rate went from 78bpm supine resting on average and spikes at 109bpm within 10 minutes of a relaxed standing posture. After looking online for some anecdotal experiences, I realized that folks with POTS have very similar experiences with me related to misdiagnoses with anxiety, “jelly legs,” vertigo, inability to tolerate large meals, swaying, seeing “stars”, slight hand tremors, it doesn't always include fainting, leg discoloration, recently craving salt, needing to sit while I shower, chronic hiccups, pre syncope, heat intolerance, and brain fog to name some that i’ve seen in educational materials. (My current doc and I think POTS is a less likely scenario for now).
Thank you for taking the time to hear me out. I’m confident there’s been a chronic problem that's really making life harder at the moment, and I need help.
Comments? Questions? Support would be awesome 👏 I’m also good and taking advice and criticism so hit me with your best recommendation’s ☺️
-Maggie

Im asking this genuinely, and more as an outsider looking. What makes him appealable to people? Nothing ive seen that dude say has resonated with me at all and just seems very low ball humor. It gives me a bad taste. Can someone just explain what keeps his popularity?

WARNING: DISCUSSION ABOUT:
PUBERTY PORNORGRAPHY DEPRESSION SUICIDE
We begin this by going back to when I was eight years old. The pandemic had just begun, and I had been stuck at home for what felt like forever. It came when my mom and I were walking to a technology store. We were looking around the shelves for laptops I could use for school. A little bit later, we found one, and my mom, being the kind person she is, bought it and set it up for me. When it was completely done being set up, I had the whole unfiltered internet in my hands. It was a pretty big deal, especially for an eight-year-old, and I immediately got to looking things up. If I had any questions, they could be answered in less than a second.
Something strange had happened, though. I was scrolling through images when I saw something. I didn't know what it was at the time, but I knew it made me feel good. Little did I know that this would spark a whole new world of pornography inside me. I felt the dopamine rush of the images, so I looked up more, and more, and more. I had felt the best I ever had until I soon realized what it was—what I was looking at. A couple of months pass by, and I'm being rushed to the hospital. A doctor is surrounding me, forcing me to take anesthesia medication. Minutes pass by, and I wake up beside my mother while she's talking to a doctor. They both walk in, and the nurse says, “So, what I'm saying is that he can't eat for two months.” I burst out crying, realizing the fact.
From that point on, I have been diagnosed with 'Crohn's Disease', which is an autoimmune disease that affects weight, energy, and overall health. I then used pornography as my medication, watching it whenever I felt horrible. At the time, I didn't know it was a bad thing, but I also didn't know if it was a good thing. A little later, the pandemic eases, and I go back to regular school. In my previous experiences, everyone I had known was my friend. But this was different. At the time this happened, I was entering fourth grade, and already I notice something was different.
No one was becoming my friend. I tried my best to have friends, but no one liked me until I met this one person. We'll call him 'Santi'. He invited me to play soccer, and we had just clicked. We were talking almost every single day. After a while, he introduced me to his friends. I will refer to them as "Ricardo and Mark." Their sense of humor was completely different from mine. They had gone down a much more vulgar and sexual path than mine. At the time, I was a completely innocent boy until we got together. I felt pressured to act and do the same things they did. I would make jokes about rape, sexual intercourse, and violence. I hated it, but I had no friends to fall back on. In my mind, I thought that if I was kicked out of the group, I'd have no friends.
The more time I spent with them, the more desensitized I was to pornography and such topics. And I began realizing that what I was doing wasn't exactly healthy for me. But I couldn't care less, and I kept going. One day, we were hanging out, making fun of people as we always did. Santi asked me, "Hey, you've changed." I was astonished by what he said. All this time, I had changed so I could fit in for him. Before I assumed anything, I responded, "For the better? Or for the worse." My knees were shaking as he quickly said, "For the worse." Ever since then, I've never looked him in the eyes. I couldn't stand it anymore. I was outraged at the time, but, as I'm reflecting, I now thank him for saying that. Because it helped me get away from that friend group.
I slowly let it all sink in. How did I let that all happen? I slammed my head against the wall, and it weirdly felt good. I kept doing it. It hurt quite a bit, but I'd loved to know that I was getting what I deserved. I then became fascinated with self-harm, looking up ways to do it. I felt like the worst person ever and that I needed to end my life so that no one had to deal with me.
I felt like such a burden to everyone. I was such a spoiled brat; I would whine about anything if I didn't get my way. I was incredibly stupid; I couldn't help but fail every math test I got. I was so ugly; the medication I took had greatly increased the number of skin issues I had, so I began developing acne early on. And I couldn't make any friends. It was an immense struggle, and it had only gotten worse by the time I was in fifth grade. By that time, bullying, as a concept, had become popular. I felt so isolated. To make it even worse, I was walking back from music class when someone pinched me so hard that part of my skin turned purple from bruising. I hated everything just as much as I hated myself.
One day, I decided to quit. I slowly walked out of the door at night and ran away from home. I went to a nearby park that no one would go to, especially at night. I was cold, I was hungry, and I was completely alone. It was about 1 a.m. My entire family was looking for me. Two hours later, they found me and signed me up for therapy. I later told them the full story. But the only thing I didn't mention was that I watched pornographic content. A few weeks later, I met my therapist, and he was extremely kind. Over the next couple of months, I'd go see him weekly; however, he did nothing. He only gave me more work.
Nothing had changed. He didn't seem to take his job seriously. He was never serious; he was on his phone most of the time, and he was always making jokes. It was miserable. It wasn't like he's a bad person; he just didn't help me in any way.
And then I got into grade 6. This is when it all changed. Bullying had only gotten worse as every day I came home wanting to lock my door and cry on the floor. I had lost all my friends, and all the ones that I used to have had turned against me. At this point, I was done with life. Every morning, I was screaming and crying just because I didn't want to go to school. Eventually, I had enough. I convinced my parents to get into homeschooling, and after many brutal weeks, I was homeschooled. And this would seem like a good thing until you realize that my parents all worked almost every day. I don't have the motivation to teach myself, so I end up not learning anything. Not only that but I am deprived of human connection. I hate going outside and meeting new people, so I'm trapped inside all day, every day.
Ever since I've been homeschooled, I've had constant urges to watch pornography since I have nothing else to do. It's only gotten worse. I'd watch it almost every day, to the point where I was staying up all night just watching pornography. But there was one day when I contemplated my entire life. I deeply thought about every choice that I've made. And a few days later, I quit pornography as a whole. Right now, I am 5 days clean, and I'm on the edge. Every day, I'm more and more miserable.
My parents ask me what's wrong, but I can't say why. I'm too nervous to tell them that I was addicted to pornography. I understand that my main source of dopamine is being cut off, but it seems like such a jarring switch. Ever since I quit, I've also getting erections more and more often. It doesn't matter what I do; it just keeps happening more and more. Although I realize that I am going through puberty head-on, this is completely natural. It just heavily bothers me when I'm at family events or in social situations casually talking with someone when all of a completely erection.

Hey there,
Me (25f) and my partner (25nb) have been together for a bit more than 1 and a half years and we live together. I really love them, and they're an amazing person in many aspects. They're super sociable, interested, lovely, have a good sense of humor, and are just downright wholesome. But there's a cycle that sometimes arises in our relationship that makes me feel horrible, confused, and doubtful about the relationship as a whole.
The cycle goes like this: I say something, regardless of my intentions—whether I'm funny, good,neutral or if I'm genuinely annoyed—and my tone/words get interpreted in a different, often negative way. Then, my partner asks me, "Why are you being so annoyed/rude etc.?" When I explain that I'm not trying to come across that way and that it's not my intention, it backfires. I end up being perceived as the person who's denying my partner's feelings because I don't accept that I'm annoyed (when I'm not) or if I am annoyed and being rude, of course, I apologize. But if I don't accept it, the conversation can drag on for hours. It's incredibly draining for me and my mental health.
I'm at a loss for what to do. Something similar happened today three times, and by the end, I was in tears, expressing, "I feel like you don't like the person I am because I have no bad intentions. I don't understand how easily you can think I'm annoyed at you or trying to be rude to you when I'm not trying to be like that at all! And this kind of relationship is not sustainable for me." They were very offended by that, but I'm exhausted from this dynamic, even though I love this person.
Then, they insist that I'm incapable of accepting things and create this narrative about me. But they also often say that I'm so caring, accepting, and loving because that's who I am. I want to make my partner feel good, but being interpreted so poorly makes me feel incredibly drained. When I express this to them, they say that communication is a two-way thing and that I'm taking advantage of them by blaming their tiredness or stress for their reactions (although they were kind of accepting of this).
Has anyone else been in this situation before? I would really appreciate hearing your experiences and thoughts.
TL;DR:
My partner often misinterprets my words, leading to lengthy, exhausting discussions where I'm made to feel like I'm denying their feelings. I'm at a loss about how to address this dynamic and would appreciate hearing from others who've been through similar situations.

Is it wrong for me (18m) to question my girlfriend’s(18f) loyalty, despite her begging me to believe her for so long?
I (18m) have been with my girlfriend (18f) for nearly two years, and we deeply trust each other on most levels. I will admit some of this may be my own insecurity, which is definitely a factor. But I can’t ever stop thinking about this, no matter how many times she promises her loyalty.
The first time, early on in our relationship, a mutual friend of ours would often bring her coffee and presents and stuff, which to me was clearly not all platonic. After a while of disagreement, she finally saw it too and cut contact with him. He apologized to me after and said to not worry again, and thankfully he’s been great ever since.
She has another friend who is a guy (notice the pattern) We sat with him at lunch for a period of time, and during these days he would often try to belittle me as much as possible in front of her and he would give her subtle compliments. once I brought it up she would say she can’t even imagine him meaning anything in the wrong way and that I’m just being jealous and controlling.
This guy is sex obsessed, however he rarely has committed relationships, just fuck buddies who he brags to her about. Regardless, he has very unhinged humor and is slightly autistic (high-functioning) and claims the things he says are a result of that.
Several months later, my girlfriend and I had a period where we were fighting pretty badly, and during this time he asked her to homecoming. She didn’t go with him, she went with me and we made up. During that whole fight period, he would spread rumors about me to several people, and I was approached by three different people asking if I’m all kinds of different things he claimed I was.
He was basically trying to take her and my social life, at least that’s what it felt like. My girlfriend thinks it’s just “oh he’s a little silly don’t mind his humor”. I haven’t forgiven nor forgotten what he did, and I have made no attempt to act as if I’m ok with him.
After that mess, I told her I’m not ok with that friendship and it needs to change in some way. For a few months, she basically cut contact with him. More recently, she asked if I could trust her enough to talk to him again. I asked her not to cross boundaries and sure. She agreed, and promised that I don’t have to worry and she couldn’t ever hurt me like that.
After a month or so, we were at an event when I asked if she could go hang out with a few of my friends after. She said no, she wanted to go with her friend (a girl) and that girls boyfriend to someone’s house. I said who’s house. It was the house of the guy who I told her I was uncomfortable her being too close to, who her friend is also friends with.
I told her no at first, because his parents leave them all unsupervised and let him give guests drinks and weed like it’s nothing, and I don’t want her in his house with him acting like that.
She was angry and said I don’t have to worry about it and she won’t drink much and she also won’t be alone with him, she’s with a group. I fought for a while, but eventually gave up and just said fuck it do what you want idc anymore. This guy had recently found a girlfriend, but she was only really a replacement after his fuckbuddy had left him a few days before.
She went with them, goofed off with him and the others the whole time, according to her friend who was there and the snaps she had sent me during it, everything seemed alright.
Should I continue to express my concern with this issue, or try to be more open to the idea that I should trust her more? In all other relationship aspects we get along extremely well and have grown together so much. This is my biggest source of stress in regards to us.
TLDR; my girlfriend has had a couple guy friends in our time together, and their interactions have made me question her loyalty. She insists she loves only me and she’d never do something like that, but part of me can’t just forget.

I just really wanna say how much I loooooove this show! I love the family so much! They're so cute and so funny! I love the little world they built in stoolbend, I love all the callbacks and tie ins, I think Cleveland has such a good sense of humor(and and even better laugh)! I watched the show a lot as a kid but I'm rewatching it at 21 now and it's so god-damn good. I know a lot of people won't agree with me, especially since the beginning of season 1 is kinda mid, but I genuinely think The Cleveland Show is better than Family Guy. I do think American Dad is better than both but I'm really in a Cleveland kick. I took 3 Adderall this morning, smoked a bowl, and then I've been baking cookies while The Cleveland Show plays in the background. I'd say it's been around 6 hours. I'm have so much fun!

So English (the sooperior monolingual chad langauge) is apparently a ‘stress-timed language’, meaning how long a syllable is depends on the vibe of a sentence or whatever. SOOOO things like SOOOO don’t happen in other beta languages where the syllables are all the same or people just click and yodel when they’re sad idk.
Does that mean other languages aren’t funny??? I mean most humor is saying things in a weird way and I kinda feel like you need to EMPH-asize things for comedy and saying things in a haha goofy voice seens ableist to people with stupid voices idk. Is that why most comedies are people getting hit in the testes?? How are you funny in a different language and you can SHOCK the NATIVES with your ŵït and çhärm?

i never post anywhere anymore and i never browsed this subreddit or similar ones but i just wanted to scribe this series of events that happened to me somewhere.
basically i've been the weirdo outcast my whole life, i've had one friend as a kid and maybe one guy in class i was kinda friends with but i was never sure. people never talked to me, i dont know if they wanted to or not. No one hated me, probably few disliked me, but no one really cared, i dont think. Admittedly, i stopped caring myself. i didnt even bother trying to strike up conversations or small talk anymore. i guess i accepted i was going to die alone. I don't think i am ugly. I was in middle school when i was chubby but it wasnt anything crazy. My hair is kinda messed up all the time but i dont think anyone dislikes it as much as i do (im too scared to experiment with it because it might end up ugly and im going to have to deal with that) but im getting off topic
anyway im in my last year of school, i go in thinking ill just do the exams get it over with and forget school like the bad dream it was. yeah well heres the thing, we have a class on tuesdays thats just nothing, its a long story but basically it was supposed to be PE but its just not. well one of those tuesdays, probably like 2-3 months ago now, a few classmates and me just so happened to be sitting together while nothing was happening, and well somehow, idk , i was probably tired and loosened up, we started talking. just, you know. classmate banter. dumb humor, complaining about upcoming exams, stuff like that. the conversation was kinda fun. i was super uncomfortable the whole time but not because of anything anyone said, i was straight up just not used to conversations. still not completely used to them, ha. it was 4 girls and 4 guys including me, we "knew" each other since elementary but never really talked. well, except me and that guy i mentioned earlier. one of the girls made a group chat with the 8 of us for some reason. we started hanging out together. for the first time in years i was just talking to people, almost normally. i was still super awkward but i had this feeling of responsibility. "you've gotten this far, don't fuck this up". For the first time ever, i felt like a part of something. i've never been a part of a group before. im tearing up just writing this. sorry for getting emotional.
then theres the 8 hours we spent outside during a photoshoot for our classes yearbook (the equivalent of it, idk how it is in america but our yearbooks have all kinds of photos not just the faces), we talked a lot then. it was fun too. it was cold as hell outside but that made it more exciting in a way. And the next day when one of our guys invited us to his house and we had a fun day there too. only 6 could make it there but it didnt matter anyway. I had people say my name out loud, which feels really great it turns out. Ive had people start conversations with me, which is such a new feeling but i welcome it. I even have a bit of physical contact now. I've gotten a hug for the first time in... hell, i dont even know how many years, from someone who isnt a relative. I got to feel wanted, as corny as it sounds. One girl texted me that she would "really like to see me there" when they were organizing the house thing. That was the sweetest thing ever i almost died when i saw it.
This is all just so overwhelming. I got to feel all of that in just a few months after being deprived of it for years. I can't help but feel like i dont deserve any of the affection im getting, like i shouldnt be here. but i do my best to reciprocate and make the others feel as good about themselves as they make me. I'm still awkward as hell, like i always was, but i'm slowly but surely socializing. i think i fit in in my own weird way. I guess what i'm getting at (besides just getting this out of myself) is that you wont be lonely forever. your time will come to be normal and happy. try to loosen up and dont worry about it too hard.
sending love to everyone who reads this

Hi, my name is Randy! There are pics in my profile if you wish to get that out of the way. I'm 6' or 183 cm. Roughly average to athletic build, just a few tattoos, White skin, brown hair and blue eyes. So unfortunately I'm unnatracted to blue eyes, so women with warmedarker color eyes like brown or hazel or copper make me gush 😍 ik that I have blue eyes myself and its ironic buuut long term I want brown eyes babies! One day lol. Foreign accents also make me gush but tbh I'm not picky about that one.
About me: I play video games, I have an Xbox and a laptop so any cross-platform games we can play together would be great. If not I don't mind :)) not all girls are gamers. I love having small dates even long distance, I think of myself as the romantic type. My love language is touch/spending time, obvi6cant touch over long distance so I'm understanding of that part. I've had a successful LDR before (long distance relationship) for 4 years and I think it was wonderful, and I want a serious woman to be just mine again ❤️ I'm an artist when inspired, so if I fall in love I tend to make my woman some beautiful stuff ;) introverted and my motivation was INFJ last I checked. Enneagram type 2 or 4 I forgot. I do have some depression but I take medication for it! I smoke weed often and will drink on special occasion, but as someone who cares for others I will always smoke outside of asked! No cigarettes!!! Especially since I raise baby birds!
My ideal woman likes animals because I have parrots! Hopefully has a few things in common, like Marijuana or likes games or loys of time together. I have a big heart and a pocket of empathy so if you're flawed that's okay! As long as you're loving amd respecting and caring for our feelings, and we communicate I'll love you with everything I've got! I'm educated so I want to be able to have an intellectual conversation ofc. Not saying you need a degree ofc, I just find intelligence attractive! Also I love a girl with a sense of humor!!! If we laugh istg we will kiss hahaha. Anyway I miss being in love and I'm hoping to find a girl who wants the same as I do. I like women with a bit of patience, understanding and caring attitude! Who likes to be the sweet cute princess gf while I'm the bf who like to take care of you even when you may want to look tough <3 I like being supportive so zip it!
Last but not least I guess I'd say I'm very touched by love. Having someone who loves you means the world to me, wherever you are. If I know my love keeps you warm somewhere across the world, then yours makes my day that much brighter <3
That's all! Good luck to everyone looking for love.

I (18f) love my baby brother (9m) so much. He’s not a baby anymore but he’s my baby. He’s so annoying and he’s one of those boys obsessed with soccer and skibidi toilette.
He’s everything I disliked in boys when I was his age, which is funny to me now because I adore him. He gets my humor, I get his. I tell him I love him literally every single day, and he makes sure to let me know he loves me too (although he likes to tease me saying he doesn’t 🙄) We don’t really play together, but we spend a lot of our time just talking.
I love talking with him. He’s such a little kid but at the same time so mature. I always ask him for advice in my life because I love to hear his perspective and usually he’s always right. He’s so smart and he’s so talented in so many different ways. I just KNOW he’s going to do great when he grows up. I’m so excited to see the person he’ll become because I know he’ll be great.
Today, he went to the doctor, and while he’s feeling fine, they said he has something. My parents told me it isn’t serious but it really made me think that I couldn’t possibly live a life without him. He’s literally my favorite person in the entire world, I’d do anything for him.

Hey, everyone. I have been getting increasingly excited for Furiosa. I decided to go back and watch Fury Road just to refresh my mind, and then just for fun I decided to rewatch the other three films as well, including Beyond Thunderdome which brings me to the point of this post.
Let me kick things off by saying that I love Beyond Thunderdome. It is the only film of the original trilogy that has a truly outlandish feel and I absolutely adore it. However, I noticed that in Beyond Thunderdome, Max is a different character than in the other three films. His personality is different. He talks more, he seems to have a sense of humor, and he is a much more stereotypical 80s action hero. Beyond Thunderdome as a whole reminds me a lot of Indiana Jones.
I was just curious why George Miller decided to portray Max a little differently in Beyond Thunderdome than in the other films. I've heard that Beyond Thunderdome was initially a different project before Miller decided to make it a Mad Max film. Is it a holdover from that?

I got a dog hate subreddit recommended to me and all the posts are just people overreacting about something humorous and taking it way too literally/seriously or just like hating dogs because they poop on the ground and acting like everyone who owns a dog is a lunatic and every dog is out to kill you. I just don't understand it. Do they have a phobia of dogs and just don't want to admit it? I have met few truly bad dog owners which says a lot because many people have dogs so what's going on?

The situation has not improved.
I am dressed as an astronaut and expect this day to go terribly.
The decorations looked pitiful when I set them up the night prior. The harsh morning light does them no favors. No magical transformation has taken place. The abandoned factory still looks like an abandoned factory.
To enter the grounds of Children’s Sci-Fi Saturday one has to walk through a decontamination tunnel. I had hoped that the mysterious passage would make the factory seem more futuristic, but all it manages to do is bring back memories of the early pandemic. The overpowering stench of disinfectant doesn’t do the atmosphere any favors either.
In the first chamber of the event sits a grouping of chairs and a mostly clean canvas screen that documentaries about space are being projected on. I’ve taken great care in organizing the YouTube playlist to be as educational as possible, but the children are utterly disinterested.
They’re not filled with wonder and joy. They’re confused. Some throw tantrums, some openly weep. The parents that arrived early are trying to put up a positive front, but I know it won’t last. When a heavy-set mother starts to loudly inquire about who she has to speak to for a refund and an explanation, I duck into another of the decontamination tunnels and move deeper into the poorly constructed spaceship.
The second chamber of the event holds the ‘futuristic kitchen.’ The table is pitiful. In between a bunch of sci-fi props I’ve salvaged from a defunct movie studio sit two bowls with the most futuristic food I could afford: Jelly beans and saltine crackers.
Though the food and décor of the chamber are miserable, the kitchen is staffed by my one stroke of good luck — Katherine. She might be underage and I might be breaking various labor laws by having her interact with the children, but what she lacks in qualification she makes up with sheer excitement. She even brought her own costume. Although obviously homemade, she looks like she crawled straight out of the Jetsons and has the energy of a cartoon character to prove it.
When she sees me, she waves and smiles and tells me everything is going great. After the initial burst of pep, however, Katherine asks when I’m going to bring more food. The kids are much hungrier than anticipated and she’s getting a bit peckish herself.
It’s not even an hour in and half the jellybeans are gone. I tell her everything is going to be arranged, even though I know it won’t be. She nods and hops over to serve two ten-year-olds some crackers. They look miserable. I can’t hear her past the helmet, but she says something to the kids and suddenly they’re all smiles.
The woman who was requesting the refund emerges from the disinfection tunnel. She yells out into the ether about robbery and fraud and demands to be shown who’s in charge. I know I’ll have to face her eventually, but I can’t bear to do so yet. I duck into the passageway leading to the final chamber of the event.
The loading bay is lit by discount screens I ordered online. On each of the screens, stands a cartoon alien. Their voices are clearly artificial and they speak over each other, but with a bit of imagination they seem sentient.
Animated avatars powered by artificial intelligence. It’s all Greek to me, but a stranger online put them together for a reasonable price. The avatars are stilted, even a bit frightening, but the children seem genuinely excited to be talking to them.
The man I hired to look after this chamber of the event is considerably less enthused. He emerges from the shadows, his face painted green and holding little joy. The man looks rough, dangerous even, but he’s the only one who responded to my online ad. The moment he sees me he starts asking whether I filled out the paperwork he asked for. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t look amicable to questions. I tell him it’s almost filled out, hoping that he’ll eventually forget.
‘Another thing,’ he says, picking at his paint covered beard in frustration. ‘One of the aliens is busted.’ He doesn’t point at the screen. Instead, he flicks whatever detritus he gathered from his jaw in the general direction of the malfunction.
The alien on the screen is, indeed, busted. The creature’s eyes are wide-open in an expression of a grand mal seizure and his speech consists solely of strained vowels. A child stares up at the creature with terrified wonder. He listens, trying to decipher the extraterrestrial’s message but when he notices we’re watching him he turns to us.
‘Why is he talking like that?’ the boy asks.
‘Alien language,’ I say, feeling the nervous heat rise in my space suit. ‘Try talking to a different alien.’
The child doesn’t question this. He simply shrugs and moves on to a screen with a healthy-looking alien.
I tell the man with the green face that he should dissuade the kids from talking to the broken screen and he, in turn, starts asking about the paperwork again. Apparently, the state needs evidence that he was hired for the job. I vaguely recall a stack of blank documents sitting in the factory’s office and tell him, again, that they’re almost filled out. When he, rather aggressively, demands that I give him the papers immediately, I excuse myself. I am, after all, meant to be keeping watch over the space documentaries.
When I emerge out of the disinfection tunnel into the first chamber of the event, I am met with two unpleasant surprises. The playlist of space documentaries I have set up has been remixed by the YouTube algorithm to include flat-earth videos. Before I manage to rectify the program, I am confronted by a second, shriller, surprise.
She nearly tears my space suit when she grabs me. The woman who was so loudly proclaiming her appetite for a refund has singled me out. Dangling her weeping five-year-old daughter like a prop, she demands to speak to someone who could give her back her hard-earned money. The visor of my space helmet obscures my face, but the fear in my voice comes through loud and clear. I tell the woman that if she wants to get a refund, she should contact the organizer of the event. When she demands a phone number I panic and gave her the right one.
She calls immediately. Even past the confines of an astronaut costume, she can hear my phone ring. The moment she identifies me as the organizer of Children’s Sci-Fi Saturday her already loud voice reaches a volume that makes all the children weep with renewed fervor. Her points and jabs catch the attention of the other parents. They aren’t happy either.
The mob shifts from displeasure to absolute rage in a matter of seconds. At first, I make an attempt to negotiate yet the louder the crowd gets, the more they start to push and shove. I have a helmet on, but the fear of a broken jaw is palpable. As the crowd gets rowdier and more aggressive, I push my way past a bunch of Styrofoam decorations and hide in the factory’s office space.
I had hoped that my retreat would dissuade the crowd but it doesn’t. Not even shuttering the windows calms them. They keep knocking on the door. They’re all demanding to speak to me. With each knock, their demands grow louder and angrier.
When I set up the decorations the night prior, the thought occurred to me that at some point of Children’s Sci-Fi Saturday the police might be called. I just never thought that I would be the one to call them.
Just as I fear someone might break the window, the officers arrive. They part the mob of parents and deliver their own knock and request. I let them in and immediately shut the door.
I recognize them the moment they enter. It isn’t until I take off my helmet that they recognize me. The same two patrolmen who showed up the night me and Karel had met the Unknown. They laugh at the sight of me. When I explain my predicament, they laugh some more.
Halfway through my story, someone starts banging on the door demanding to know what is happening. The younger cop finds this to be a very funny but the other one — the same one who so sternly warned me about being taken to a psychiatric institution on that fateful night — takes great offense to the interruption.
He bursts out the door and roars at the crowd to calm down and not interrupt police procedure. Refunds are civil matters. If they want one, they should call a lawyer. Then, with a satisfied smile, the officer returns to the office. He bids me to continue my story.
The police find Karel bailing on the event and the ensuring chaos to be very funny, but when I tell them that I am scared of the mob outside, they turn thoughtful. The crowd is thinning, but they both admit I am not exactly safe. Finally, the cop who couldn’t stop laughing during my story asks me if anyone’s seen me without the space suit. If people didn’t know I organized the event they might not try to punch me in the face.
When I tell the officer that none of the parents outside actually know what I look like he slaps his knee in victory. He declares the problem solved. I should just take off the space suit and keep an eye on the event as a civilian.
My clothes are drenched with sweat from the space suit and the stress, but aside from the wet splotches around my neck and armpits, I look like a regular middle-aged man. Being a lone, sweaty adult at a children’s day event makes me uncomfortable but I prefer it to the alternative.
The stern policeman stands outside the door and keeps watch. When the coast is clear, he raps his knuckles on the door. I emerge from behind the Styrofoam decorations not as the organizer of Children’s Sci-Fi Saturday but as another unhappy adult. I thank the patrolmen for their help, but in response they just shake their heads and smile.
‘Oh, we’re staying here. Just to keep an eye on things,’ the one who likes to laugh says.
‘There’s a good chance someone will assault you,’ the stern one says.
I heed their warnings and proceed with caution. I do my best to keep a low profile.
In the first chamber of the event, a handful of children are watching the projection with interest. It’s not a space documentary, or even a flat earth video, it’s a scream filled treatise on Bill Gate’s secret microchip factory on the moon. The children look disappointed when I switch the video over to a soft-spoken documentary about space travel, but eventually the screen catches their attention with rocket ships.
Seeing me at the laptop, a parent comes up to me. He asks me if I know who’s in charge of the event. I shrug and say I got the gig from an online listing. The father throws up his hands in frustration, but he does not strike me. He just mumbles unbelievable, grabs his son and leaves the premises.
I find some confidence in my anonymity.
That confidence disappears the moment I enter the second chamber. Weeping children roam around like butterflies on a summer meadow. All the bowls in the futuristic kitchen are empty. Even though Katherine is still smiling, there’s lines of mascara running down her face. Most furious of all, and terribly frightening under the bright light of the fluorescents, is the green painted man.
‘I’m not going back there, man!’ he yells, grabbing me by my shirt. There’s legitimate fear in the man’s eyes, but it quickly turns to anger. ‘Whatever the hell that thing is, it’s not right! If I wasn’t on parole, I would gotten out of here already. Just get me my work papers, goddamn it!’
The other parents watch us with suspicion. They start to piece together why I could be getting yelled at by the staff. Before the mob can assemble again, I free myself of the green man’s grasp and duck into the third chamber of the factory. He screams about how he’s not going back to jail because of me, but the green painted man doesn’t make chase.
I walk through the disinfection chamber alone.
I emerge into a loading dock of flickering screens. Some are completely dead; some are blue with windows errors and some are filled with jittering alien avatars. All of them howl with strange monosyllabic ululations of a broken intelligence.
Yet all the alien avatars malfunctioning is not what strikes true horror into my heart. What truly frightens me is the mirror at the far end of the loading dock.
Even in the poor light, I can see my reflection. I am once again made into a terrible ogre of nightmare. Behind me, as before, something gets closer and closer. When I look over my shoulder, the screens flicker with strain.
The thing emerges on all fours. It moves its limbs with caution, yet its neck is eagerly extended. Even past the ululations of the broken aliens, I can hear it hiss.
From across the loading dock, I witness the Unknown once more.
Drunk on fear, my mind produces a terrible theory. On that fateful night, the Unknown fled before the police entered the loading dock. It fled. With my mind diminished, I form the idea that the creature is easily startled.
As if I was dealing with a deer in my backyard, I make myself large and dash towards it. Yet the thing I am trying to fluster is not a deer. It is horror personified. The closer I move towards the abomination, the starker that reality becomes.
My hands fall to my sides and my fingers dig into my palms. My footsteps slow until my feet refuse to move. I stand before the Unknown just as Karel did, paralyzed with fear.
The thing slowly raises itself to its hind limbs and braces against my shoulders. Though its appendages are shaped like arms, the fingers are not. They are terrible hooked claws that dig deep into the fabric of my shirt. The thing lifts itself and wraps another set of claws around my knees. The creature is considerably light, yet its weight on my mind is unbearable.
From behind its metal mask, the thing whispers to me.
Its rasping voice is that of many mouths. I comprehend each and every inhuman word that is forced into my ear. The message of the Unknown bounces through me, jagged and painful, and my eyes fill with tears. The thing speaks, and I comprehend, yet when it lets go of me all the truths dissipate from my mind.
Like the fading memory of a bad dream, I forget the specifics of what the thing whispered. The terrible message leaves my mind, but the fear and dread do not.
The Unknown does not flee after it is done with me. It crawls its way back to the horrible mirror and watches me. It’s masked face cocks to the side in curiosity.
I do not entertain the creature’s gaze long. The moment my limbs are remotely under my control I turn and I run. As I escape the horrid monstrosity, I try to call to the outside world for help, but my voice is a hoarse whisper. When I smash through the disinfection tunnel my feet can no longer hold me.
Crawling, like a weeping infant, I make my way into the kitchen of the future. The police are in a heated debate with the man with the painted face, but I interrupt it with my wails. Tugging at their pant leg I beg them to enter the third chamber. I demand they witness the horrid monster and destroy it.
The police seem eager to investigate, but my entrance makes a scene. Quickly, I am identified as the organizer of Children’s Sci-Fi Saturday. The parents mob me and order I explain myself. They shout and demand refunds and call me a thief. In their eyes, I can see a thirst for blood.
I try to stand up on my own but instead I am lifted off my feet by an angry balding man. Based off of my terror-stricken eyes and sweaty form, he announces that I am on drugs. With each stuttered denial his accusations grow more certain. I try to explain myself and apologize, yet my words just enrage the crowd further. I am pulled from side to side, nearly being torn asunder. Then, finally, with a blunt force to the back of my head, I am expelled from the realm of the conscious.
I wake in the back of a police cruiser. The officers sit in the front, drinking coffee and eating sandwiches. The event is cancelled, they inform me. The unhappy parents had gathered into a mob and become a public safety hazard. Everyone was dispersed and I was safe, but they weren’t able to figure out who had knocked me out.
‘You’ll just have to live with the mystery,’ the stern one says. ‘At least you survived.’
‘Definitely getting sued though,’ the one of good humor chuckles.
As they drive me home, I go through the missed calls on my cellphone. I think of calling back Katherine, perhaps calming down the green-painted felon, but my mind quickly shifts to other things. I notice something is off when I see myself in the dashboard mirror. The mass of bruised flesh on the right side of my head makes for an uncomfortable sight, but there’s something else that’s wrong in the reflection.
It isn’t until I get a proper look at myself in my bathroom mirror that I realize what had started to unsettle me the back of the cruiser. Behind me, ever so gently, I see movement.
When I turn around, I am alone, yet in my reflection there is something unsettling. Something I can’t quite focus my eyes on is moving behind me. It’s moving and with every passing second it gets closer.
I don’t call any of the people I hired for Children’s Sci-Fi Saturday. I don’t call any of the parents or answer any of the furious e-mails. There’s only one person I have interest in talking to. The only other person who has heard the terrible whispers of the Unknown.
I call Karel. I call him over and over and over again.
I call Karel and he does not pick up.

I try to be to the point with these because when I write a detailed post it gets removed but don't let the few lines fool you, I generally talk more than the post lets on.
That said, the title speaks for itself. Are you a good texter? Have a good sense of humor and don’t take yourself too seriously? Then we’ll we’d probably be a good fit. I’m generally calm and serious but an escape does wonders for the soul.
If you can banter, joke around(light or dark) and looking for a chat partner long term then say hello:)

Please please listen.
First of all, no one knows that I have autism except my mother and my siblings. I don't see my father, so he doesn't know.
I find it difficult to write my thoughts into texts, please bear with me.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I am a person who is introverted, but still finds it easy to socialize with people. Most of my class find me kind and open. I treat everyone with gentleness and kindness. I also have a good sense of humor and joke with many people during the lessons.
But I don't know what's wrong with me.
I once had a crush on a boy from high school (we hardly talk) and he told a friend of mine (the two are together now, but I can't judge her, she doesn't know anything about it) that I'm weird. When I got home, I couldn't stop crying. I've always been hurt a lot (even when I was younger). That gave me the rest. I haven't had a depressive phase for a long time and when I found out what he thought about me I fell back into the same hole from a year ago. This phase lasted for months. (Not only bc of what he said, but that was the start)
He wasn't the only and last person to say something like that to me. A friend often says to me “I think you have autism” “Why are you so weird” “What’s wrong with you?” out of the blue.
I'm in a big friend group and I'm “the funny friend” and it kind of hurts. I have the feeling that everyone is laughing at me instead of laughing with me.
I have 2 close friends from this group of friends and I love them both very much (A&B). One of them (A) stood by me in my depression and tried to support me. She said that people hardly know me and if they did know me they wouldn't say things like that. Recently a boy from class told me that I was weird and whether I had ADHD. I was sad because it was being too much and I talked to one friend (A). The other friend (B) also knew about it. The next day (B) said that I was strange and then I stopped talking to her and she then said that I was exaggerating the situation.
Today a cousin of mine also called me weird. I can't do it anymore, I don't want to be there anymore. Just be quiet, stop making jokes and not be recognizable.

So i recently announced to my cousins (two cis females) who i grew up with like sisters that i was almost ready to tell my parents i was trans. They’ve known for about a year now. They were the only girl group in my life i was included in growing up male. Like even to girls-only sleepovers and stuff, i’d be allowed in.
When i came out to them they were sorta accepting, like giving me old clothes they were gonna donate and teaching me the right way to do my nails. But its been a year and they have gotten progressively worse each time i see them about constantly asking the worst questions (yes, like the one we all most likely hate the most) and the transphobic rhetoric. I feel like they were just humoring me before cause they thought i was joking or it was a phase or something. After realizing how i was manipulated (ty to a redditor in this reddit posting about that technique called DAVO or whatever it was, that narcissists use) i called them out on their excuses to not respect me and intentionally use my deadname and “sir” as what they are, excuses disguised under shallow words of “we love and accept you” “we understand”. Sorta cut ties with them friday night when i was home safe.
So in all to say, i was really moody and hungry for the last couple of days. I think i had my first period? Is it normal for a super stressful event to trigger one? I just thought it was my first depressive episode since i started hrt (almost 6 months ongoing now), but i also just realized that maybe it could be this?

Dear D,
I don't think you will ever read, but here I go. It took me 1.5 year to not like you and I loved you 5 times during that period and cried 6 times for you and dreamt 5 times for you in that period especially during the time we didn't talk anymore. Liking you was nearly an obsession but I tried to not want to irritate you with my presence during that period. I now know you didn't have the same feelings for me as I had for you, but it is to me to accept that and I think I have finally. You are taken and that is ok. No need for me to break a relationship. Now I finally see it is me who does not fit with you. Now I see when we talked it wasn't the conversation that made me happy ot your humor. Now I see it was pure physical attraction for me. This study year I wanted so bad to feel the happiness I felt before, during and after every conversation that I had, but noe I finally see that it was just my mind tricking me into liking you, because you are so beautiful. We don't belong with each other and I think you already know that and I am glad you didn't like me back when I look back at it now. I just want to be friends with you if you are ok with that, but seeing you that way, I can't do anymore. I rrally have the feeling that there are periods in which you suddenly feel attracted to me again. But I have to say I have finally found closure and I am happy for that and I mean it when I say that I wish you the best because you are a good person and I hope you will end up happy and finding thr love you deserve if you haven't found that yet. I just hope we can be good friends again and not let awkwardness or vengefulness destrpy our friendship.
Sincerely, J

When my step-dad and I got home today, he needed the plunger and it was in my bathroom. That's not where it normally is. It was in my mom and step-dads bathroom this morning and my mom says she didn't move it. Our neighbor has a camera that faces our door, but my step-dad is reluctant to ask to see the video from today. The only reasonable explanations are my mom had someone over, there's a burglar with a sense of humor, or my mom did it. What should I do?

Just started Emma yesterday, with my only previous experience with Jane Austen being Pride and Prejudice which I really enjoyed. Of course her wit lives up to it's reputation, along with her humor. She seems to craft stories wonderfully well. She's great with characterization and dialogue.
And while I'll say there is a certain clarity and charm to her writing, does anybody wish she would occasionally throw a tree in one of her chapters? I haven't read a lot of English lit besides the Bronte sisters (Wuthering heights, Shirley, and Jane Eyre) with Wuthering Heights being my favorite of the three, and then I've read a lot of Thomas Hardy. It's hard for me as I'm reading Emma to not compare it to those novels, and the complete lack of scenery and beautiful descriptions of nature. The scenery is such an important part of those novels, and is almost it's own character. There is also this poetic, dream like feeling to those novels that I love, while I feel like Austen's work is firmly realistic in every way. You have very few long, sprawling, gorgeous sentences, and very few sentences that are breath taking on their own, without context.
This isn't really to disparage Austen's work, I'm just curious if other people feel the same way, and much prefer the work of a Bronte or a Hardy. I'm definitely enjoying Emma and plan on finishing it, as the story has me hooked.