Hi,
I am working at a company where I'm the first person trying to solve some image-processing problems with ML. I have already successfully implemented a UNet which delivers good results in segmenting cardboard boxes. For my next task, I want to use more or less the same pipeline to detect pallets.
I envision having a pretrained encoder that I can use as a base for different detection tasks. This way, I could build up an internal company dataset with different environments for good generalization and a solid building block for future problems.
This is the idea, but I'm not sure...
a) ...if this even makes sense
b) ...which type of image encoder to use
c) ...how to train it properly.(simple AutoEncoder?)
(As input, I have images from a Time-of-Flight camera).
My plan right now is to train a ResNet-oriented AutoEncoder and use the encoder part in a specific UNet afterwards. I've read that VAEs are better for generalization but are more commonly used for generative tasks(?). Visual Transformers, on the other hand, are very performant for such tasks(?) but need a lot of training data(?). Has someone done something similar and has some best-practice tips for me? Maybe my whole plan is not very practical :D, but I would love to understand why.
Thank you for your tips and opinions!

“We’re a meat family,” my dad would proudly tell strangers. He’d wait for the quizzical look, then launch into detail, starting with how many freezers we had, how long we could sustain ourselves on the contents. It was just his way of starting a conversation, which made sense when you considered that raising and home-killing animals for food was, for want of a better term, his life-long hobby. His prize possession was one of those industrial-sized vacuum sealers: you could put half a pig inside and wrap it in plastic so tightly that every wrinkle and skin fold waxed unreal with shiny detail.
If we hadn’t lived in a rural area, albeit semi-urbanised, I guess it would have been pretty weird. But the mostly farming-stock locals only found his extra enthusiasm a little bit odd.
When he wasn’t being a bit embarrassing talking about it, I never really paid much heed to his hobby. I had a child’s vaguely grateful awareness that though our family went through some lean financial times, our stomachs never suffered like some of the families around us. All the beef, pork, ham and bacon in those big old chest freezers passed down from his dad really could have fed us for years.
I should preface all this by saying that I wasn’t a particularly bright kid, though neither was I dumb. I didn’t fail badly at anything in school, I just never achieved beyond a pass. I didn’t know it yet back then, still quietly dreaming about being a ballet star or a dressage champion, but mediocrity was my destiny. And I think that’s why I got on so well with my Aunt Liz.
Liz was my dad’s live-in youngest sister. She was one of those women who get described as ‘bubbly’ — not really pretty, not really smart, not a lot going on besides just being… well, all Liz. But she was salt of the earth; kind, caring, and great with kids. She was the only person who would willingly mind my two older brothers, who fought like hellcats and caused more trouble than the whole last generation of my family combined. People would privately lament to my parents that it was a shame Liz didn’t have kids of her own, but dad would just shake his head and say Liz liked it that way – that all the fun of looking after kids is being able to give them back to their parents.
I guess she was like me; nice, but mediocre. Lovely, but somehow forgettable when she wasn’t doing something for you.
But when Liz left us, I couldn’t forget her.
In hindsight, it was pretty weird timing that we had a big fortieth birthday party for Liz right before she disappeared. She was radiant that night; she’d hired a local girl to do her hair and makeup, and it was honestly the first time I’d ever seen her look pretty. She’d even worn a push-up bra under a tight red dress, which flattered her very plump curves well enough that the neighbour’s farmhand was spotted disappearing into the woolshed with her for a snog. In my dawning awareness, that gave a plain girl hope: if Aunty Liz could get a guy at forty, maybe things would turn out okay for me.
Anyway, I couldn’t forget how her pink cheeks, her eyes, her whole self, glowed that night before Liz went to bed. She said it was the best birthday ever, and that she was very much looking forward to the next stage of her life.
Would I have done anything different, if I had known? If I had realised what, exactly, that next stage was?
The week after the party, Aunt Liz said she was going on a little holiday up north, to visit some old school friends. She packed her things – she didn’t honestly have that many – and drove her little orange mini out onto the main road. And with a wave of one fleshy hand, she was gone. Nobody really thought much of it when she didn’t call, because nobody rural had cellphones back then. And Liz was, as I said, somehow kinda forgettable when she wasn’t right in front of you.
When we hadn’t had contact for six weeks, Dad tracked down the land line numbers for their old school buddies. They were surprised to hear from him — Liz had never arrived, so they had just assumed she’d cancelled her visit. No-one had thought to check. I eavesdropped on the conversation, and it sounded for all the world like *they* had forgotten about Aunt Liz, too.
From there it became a missing person case. The local cops came and talked to all of us; the farmhand who’d been seen snogging her was briefly detained, then let go, dad got grilled at length, even my hellion brothers were questioned thoroughly to see if this was one of their wild and dangerous pranks gone wrong.
But everything was a dead end. Nobody knew where Liz was, or what had happened to her.
The remains of her old mini were found halfway across the country, burned out on a beach, on a derelict stretch of ragged, rocky coastline. The police assumed murder and combed the area for remains. But even the most expert divers couldn’t conquer the incredible undertow and fast-shifting seabed of that coastline to look for evidence, so none was forthcoming.
Eventually the cops collectively shrugged and said that there was really nothing more they could do unless more information suddenly came to light. The locals knew nothing, no witnesses had come forward, and the trail was cold. As far as anyone knew, poor aunt Liz had been murdered on some desolate beach, far away from her home.
It didn’t feel fair to me. She’d once mentioned wanting her remains buried on our farm, in the graveyard plot beside grandma and grandad.
So, in my grief, I went into her room to look for something of hers to bury beside them.
Like I said, Liz didn’t have many things. Her room was pretty spartan, and her wardrobe was mostly sensible farm stuff. There was one exception: she, like me, did like to read, and she had a pretty good collection of well-thumbed books. I think it’s the escapism – even the most mediocre girl can lose herself in the plot of some trashy romance novel, imagine there’s still hope of being swept off her feet by that handsome stableboy, his inexplicable yearning for chubby plain girls.
So I set myself the task of going through the books, to find the right one to bury in the graveyard plot.
Most of them were exactly what you’d expect, but some of them were racier than I was used to. I felt various parts of my body flushing and tingling, as I read breathless prose about calloused hands touching the softest flesh of the protagonist. Okay, if I’m honest with myself, I might have got a little *too* invested in my project at that point. But that was also why I persisted going through her entire collection, until I found the ragged paperback from 1970, entitled Tawny Sands. And inside that trashy cardboard romance cover, I discovered not the tale of Tawny Sands, but some carefully hand-cut, stitched-in pages. A handwritten story in my Aunt’s rounded penmanship: Memoirs of a Long Pig.
I read her story twice in a row, utterly gripped.
Aunt Liz was no Stephen King – heck, she wasn’t even the Goosebumps guy – but her story was gripping and compelling, and I couldn’t put it down. Even if I hadn’t known her, I think that would have been true.
The gist of it was that Liz, when she was sixteen, had discovered that our family had a very long history of eating what she described as ‘Long Pork’. It’s an antipodean term, anglicised from the Pacific Islands: human meat.
Like me, young Liz still had some hopes and dreams. In one of her many failed attempts to find a special talent, she’d taken up cooking as a hobby. Naturally, with our family’s overabundance of meat, she’d scoured the freezers in the shed for ingredients: the racks of ribs and stacks of pork chops, butcher-paper wrappings all neatly labelled with the first letter of the name of the animal they came from.
She found familiar meat from Rodney, one of the pigs that had been recently slaughtered, emblazoned with an ‘R’ in her father’s strong, blocky lettering. There were cutlets labelled ‘M’ for Mary, from one of the lambs she’d hand-reared, and ‘F’ for Ferdinand, the steer they’d killed the month before. But she couldn’t explain the many, many curious parcels of meat on one side of the huge freezer, all labelled ‘J’ – at least, not until she took it all out and assembled it as well as she could on the scoured concrete floor of the killing shed. A big, frozen jigsaw puzzle without the box, her best attempt to discover what kind of beast the pieces had come from.
The animal, she quickly realised, was a Long Pig. Her own Aunt Jenny, who had died the month before – just after her fortieth birthday.
Fortunately, or perhaps not, for Liz, her father entered the shed right at that moment and realised his daughter had discovered the family secret. He sat down calmly on the lid of the freezer, and explained to her that this was a long-running family tradition, dating back to at least before his grandfather had been born.
“There are always people in life, Liz,” he’d said, “who won’t really amount to much. They want to be useful, want to be more. They strive and they strive, trying job after job, hobby after hobby, trying to hit on something they’re really good at. Something that makes them special. Those people can waste their whole lives, chasing dreams that never come true. Eventually they die unfulfilled, knowing that all their time has been wasted. That what they leave behind will fade quickly.”
His voice was oddly gentle as he leaned down and patted one of the neatly wrapped cuts of Aunt Jenny, still sitting frozen on the shed floor.
“Your Aunt Jenny was one of those people. So was my Aunt Irene.” He paused to gaze at his daughter, his next words peppered with emphasis. “But you see, my sweet Liz, they did find a purpose in life. They did find a way to be special, and they left this world utterly certain of their gift.” He stood up, stretched his back. “Let me show you.”
Liz waited while my grandad meticulously stacked the meat back into the freezer, all but one J-marked parcel that looked for all the world like a thick venison steak. He took her back to the farmhouse, and reverently unwrapped the deep red, heavily marbled meat to let it thaw. Then he laid it in the family’s ancient, cast-iron pan, basting it with butter and rosemary until a heavenly scent filled the kitchen, and Aunt Liz couldn’t stop her mouth from watering.
“Just try it. Let her show you. You’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”
Even though she knew it was her aunt, Liz couldn’t stop herself from taking that first bite. There was something transcendent about the smell, overriding her natural revulsion that this was human meat, not one of their farm animals. For the first time, she truly realised it: we’re just another kind of animal. And weren’t her memories of Mary the lamb almost as fond as her memories of Aunt Jenny?
Liz explained then, in her curly handwriting, the explosion of taste that had assaulted her when she tried the steak. It was tender, it was succulent, it was rich beyond imagining. The fats melted on her tongue, lingering somewhere between pork and beef, but oddly neither. The flavour of the meat defied identification; something familiar, yet not.
But one thing she couldn’t deny; it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. Tears dripped onto her plate, mingled with the juice, the grease — not grief, but a pure, real, giddy delight.
“You’re tasting your aunt’s love for this family,” my grandad explained. “Her entire life was carefully curated, to eventually make unforgettable moments for us, just like this. This was her way of being special. This was the greatest gift she could possibly bring to our world – and because she realised that, she died with not a single regret. She knew her life had purpose. She was perfectly, completely fulfilled.”
I felt those words. I felt them lodge in my own belly, settling uncomfortably deep. I knew Aunt Liz, probably better than anyone else in the family. I’d seen how fucking happy she’d been on her fortieth, how goddamn fulfilled she was, despite apparently being a *nobody* and achieving *nothing*. Somehow, in the space of a single day, she had gone from being a forgettable background character to becoming the *main character*, immortalising herself in our family’s history with her sacrifice. Quite literally becoming part of all of us, forever.
I went to the killing shed after I finished with the book. I looked inside the freezers.
But there were no vacuum-sealed packages labelled ‘L’, no matter how deep I dug into the frozen stacks of plastic-wrapped flesh. Panicked now, not sure if I wanted to connect all the dots or unconnect them, I tried to think back over the last few months, recall any meals that had been unusually good. A few Sundays ago, we’d had a stew that really hit the spot and left me craving more. And I realised that the family had a really good night that night; my brothers behaved themselves, my parents didn’t fight, and grandma and grandad had been there. Hadn’t they looked far more… expectant than they should have?
I strained my brain, trying to recall if I’d seen the homekill bag on the kitchen bench – if I’d registered what letter it was. I knew it wasn’t an L. I would have remembered if it was an L.
And then it hit me, the memory, the connection, sizzling as if branded with a hot iron.
It had been an ‘E’.
E for Elizabeth. Not for Edward the pig.
I snorted at my own stupidity – of *course* Liz was short for Elizabeth – and as I comprehended my lack of smarts, I felt something give inside me.
I wasn’t clever, and nothing, nothing would ever make me smart. I had no big talents. I wasn’t beautiful, or even cute – and even if I had a million plastic surgeries, it still wouldn’t fulfill me. It wouldn’t be real.
I was a Liz.
I was a Jenny.
I was whoever the first aunt had been, the aunt who had dedicated her life to making her flesh as delicious as possible, who had worked every damn minute to be the best Long Pig she could ever be.
I wondered how many magical family evenings had been spent eating Aunt Jenny. How many glorious, satisfying, memorable dishes had been made out of her.
And… I wanted that. I wanted to finally know I had a *purpose* in life. One so simple, and so easy to achieve.
I wanted what Aunt Liz had.
***
It's my fortieth birthday today and I’m so fucking excited. For the last twenty-four years, I’ve dedicated myself to this moment; I’ve eaten exactly what I needed to, I’ve exercised just enough, but not too much, to maintain that perfect balance of marbling vs tenderness. I’ve relaxed and meditated to keep all those amazing flavours inside of me. I’ve researched all the greatest meats in the world, from prime Angus beef to A5 Wagyu. I really think I may have outdone myself.
I’m having my hair and makeup done at the local salon this afternoon, and I’m going to look so pretty; all prize piggy on show at the fair. I’m even going to have a big red ribbon in my hair, in memory of Aunt Liz.
Maybe there’ll be a cute boy I can snog in the wool shed, maybe there won’t – I don’t really care; because the most important, most certain thing is that I’m going to be the most delicious Long Pig in the history of our entire family.
I’m going to make everyone so damn happy, and I’m just so glad I can share my story with you all, instead of hiding it in a grubby book like poor Aunt Liz.
My only real disappointment? That you won’t get to taste me.
Reader, I have loved, loved my life. My Long Pork will be out of this world: once tasted, never, ever forgotten.

It’s crazy what people in church leadership can get away with. Long mission story incoming…
I had just made it to my mission field in south america post-mtc and was of course still naive and learning the language. One thing I did pick up on was that when meeting the bishop of this area something felt off. Couldn’t quite put my finger on it, and didn’t really understand a lot of what was going on until after I’d left the area.
My follow up trainer and I remained close and emailed about the area after I’d left (since he’d stayed behind). Turns out, the ward clerk came across documents for use of ward budget funds for several youth activities. The problem was that these activities never happened. This started a series of investigations led by this ward clerk that proved that the bishop was using ward funds for himself and at least one of his counselors. And this wasn’t a recent problem. Apparently this had been going on the entire time the bishop had been ‘in office’ (which was about 2ish years at the time, with this being his second time serving as the bishop of the ward).
In order to keep this under wraps, the bishop stationed a ward member as a sort of ‘guard dog’.
So back to the ‘present’. Bishop realizes through this ‘watchdog’ member that the clerk is investigating. He takes the clerks keys, Ward clerk contacts my follow up trainer (who he’d been keeping up to date on the investigation), and uses the missionaries keys to continue getting into the church building.
Climax of this whole ordeal is when the bishop feels cornered. He starts getting real sour with the missionaries. My follow up trainer said that their relationship with a lot of the ward members was poisoned by the bishop. And finally, in an effort to ‘remove the evidence’, we theorize that the bishop ordered his watchdog to set fire to the church building…
Ward clerk went snooping again and found the church empty. Watchdog dude is missing… weird. Normally a window or several would be opened but this particular time it was all closed up. Smelled like propane. He heads in and finds all of the burners on the stove have their gas running while not a single burner is lit. They’d obviously been going for some time since the propane was noticeable from the entrance. Just then, the ward clerk hears shuffling and turns to see the watchdog member come in through the entrance holding something he couldn’t make out. (Follow up trainer says they bet it was some kind of way to light the gas filled building from a safe distance). Soon as watchdog sees clerk he turns right around and books it. (Now of course there could be some sort of explanation, this is all speculation. But based on the building layout they believe some sort of foul play was intended. The clerk/bishop offices were separated from the stove by just a 3-4 foot wide hallway
After all this the clerk brings his concerns up to the stake president and presents the evidence he’s collected. A disciplinary council is called with all of the stake leaders and high councilors. Not for the bishop, but for the ward clerk, who’s reprimanded for going against ward leadership. My follow up trainer reached out to the mission president. I’m not 100% sure of the reasoning, apparently the mission president was pretty vague. But from what I was told, the mission president wasn’t supposed to intervene and was supposed to uphold whatever the local leadership (i.e. the stake president) decided.
Following the whole ordeal the ward clerk and many strong members stopped going to church. The bishop was released and put on the high council, then assigned to a ward far from home where there’d be no drama. My follow up trainer and his companion were both transferred out of the area and a new elder was sent in to train and white out the area.
From what I was able to piece together, ward morale and attendance took a massive hit. The new bishop, (who was a real nice guy), unfortunately had a whole mess to deal with.
Haven’t kept much contact with the ward (mission ended 4 years ago and i’m coming up on 1.5 years exmo). In that ward during my time there were 3-4 families of recent converts that carried the ward and especially our missionary efforts on their backs. 2 Of those 3-4 families were preparing to enter the temple for the first time and get sealed. All of those 3-4 families stopped attending after the bishop situation and to my knowledge haven’t gone back since.
[TLDR: Ward bishop stole tithing money, Ward clerk investigates, Bishop attempts to set fire to church building, Stake president holds disciplinary council against the ward clerk, Bishop promoted to high council]

Hello everyone! I am currently 37 hours into my first 3 day fast!!!
I will be breaking my fast with with salmon, peppers and lettuce, a light salad.
With a coffee.
Ketosis: how detrimental is it to stay in ketosis after my fast? I have never done Keto.
I enjoy coffee, a lot, and it would be a huge jump to cut out milk. Especially when I travel a lot and want to buy coffee at the train station… etc. I don’t think it would be very sustainable for me.
My understanding is that my plans to eat salmon etc is fine, but the milk in my coffee wouldn’t be? How detrimental to my fast would be breaking Ketosis?

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I don't even know where to start. I'm a 19 year old girl, I live in a third world country and I'm kinda drowning currently.
I'm very autistic, I can talk and do some school stuff but I can't adapt to work environments at all and holding down a job has been impossible even though I've gone through training or a month or two of work in like a dozen places. It just never sticks. And this is a huge problem and relevant to my situation.
I'm currently in college too, on top of that, but because of the autism it's been impossible to keep up with the pace and truly learn and I've been failing exams and other college obligations. It's all going downhill.
I don't like going to college at all to begin with, but the crux of my issue is that I hail from a very abusive, very strict family and they demand I not only finish college but do it with good grades too. And I depend on them financially. Now I got into this college on a full scholarship because I managed to get through previous schooling with good grades (with extreme pressure and mental breakdowns and stress put on me by my family) so my family doesn't have to pay for school. Still, they pay for my housing and food.
They don't believe I'm struggling, they're those types of mental health deniers, and my worth to them is directly tied into my college performance. They've threatened to cut me off if I fail college before and often blackmail me by withholding enough money for me to live (there was one month where I had to go hungry a lot because I couldn't cover everything with rent and bills and public transport fees etc.).
The problem is that I'm depending on them, and my inability to work makes it impossible for me to become independent. I keep trying to find jobs that might be possible for me to do but they either don't want students or want people with a lot of work experience which I don't have. Or they just don't call me back.
I'm just so depressed and honestly just so scared. I don't want to become homeless and destitute, and I wish I could handle college because I know a college diploma is useful in life, but I just can't. Every time I think I finally did a little better in school or learned a bit more, my results come back bad anyways. It's so stressful because the only livelihood I have access to currently depends on my college success but I'm not succeeding despite trying my best.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what I can do either. It all feels hopeless. My family looms so large because they control money and therefore resources and I don't know how I can ever break free. I'm just so lost.
I need general life advice here, I think. Anyone who's been through something similar, how did you get out of it? What options exist out there? I'm sorry if this post sounds like I'm whining, I'm just desperately trying to find a solution because the state of things as it is right now isn't working out at all. English isn't my first language either so if my tone or wording is weird, I'm sorry.
Thank you anyone who reads this. Hope you have a good day

Kadillac Kirk had been a good friend of mine for several years. I had met him through friends from The Spring Stage; and he never had anything to do with The Imp, which is why he didn’t appear in the Married Mary saga. Mary would have totally thrown herself at him, and Kirk would have definitely “thrown it in her.” He loved the ladies and often remarked that there was no such thing as an unappealing woman, nor was there anything sweeter than finding the pearl of passion in an outwardly plain dame. Fortunately for Kirk, he never met Mary. This was probably fortunate for Mary as well, seeing as Kirk was a confirmed bachelor and he would have probably broken her fat heart.
Kirk was an older guy. Not MOE old, though. He was in his early forties, but he easily passed for a carefree dude in his 30s... not that he lied about his age. I only mention this trait to juxtapose Kirk’s genuine youthful air with Moe’s unconvincing youthful farce. Kirk dressed normally, avoided stupid jargon, and never busted out gimmicks like tarot cards or spells. He just existed, behaved affably, and people liked him for it.
He drove a classic 1962 Cadillac El Dorado convertible with red leather interior, and he lived in a charmingly quaint (and ridiculously expensive) neighborhood. How he made his fortune remained a mystery, but he never bloviated about his wealth. He just threw spectacular parties and people showed up. And, to my knowledge, he never tried to lure women into bed with his money (although I’m sure he got his fair share of boom-boom thanks to his digs and his wheels, even if the gold-diggers denied their monetary agendas).
Kirk was legitimately handsome. He was a drummer, he had a full head of black hair, he was clean-shaven, he worked out, and he knew all the hidden gems in Wellsprings. So why hadn’t I tried... or even desired to date him? I don’t know. I just didn’t feel drawn to him like that. He felt like a cool uncle and he had, thus far, never done anything to change my perception. Plus, the age difference weirded me out a little. Kirk didn’t look forty; but knowing that he had so much more life experience than I did created a power imbalance that would have creeped me out if we’d been dating. As buddies, I just felt supremely cool riding in his Cadillac, smoking Fantasia cigarettes, and hitting the speakeasies and jazz clubs I would have never known about if it weren’t for Kirk’s connections.
And he had been a good person to talk to about my romantic woes. He never lecherously suggested that I should date him, and he gave the type of tempered advice that only comes with lived experience. But he often lightly mocked me for my crush on Dennis and he did a hilarious impression of Smegal popping too soon over his “precious.” So when Mary “got me back” by doing whatever she did with to Dennis, I called Kadillac Kirk and told him the drinks were on me if he’d be my designated driver for the night.
Why hadn’t I called Whisky??? Well, A) Kirk was way more fun to hang out with, at least from my past experiences up to that point. And B) I needed to bitch about a boy, something I couldn’t do in good conscience in front of a guy I was dating. So I put on the sexiest plunging halter dress I owned, applied heavy eye makeup and spikey accessories, braved a pair of stilettos, and sashayed out to Kirk’s convertible. I felt like a badass rock star. I probably looked like a try-hard hooker.
Kirk: Daaaaay-um! Somebody really did do a number on you, huh? I know you said you were upset, but the gents are gonna be writing thank you notes to that fat girl and that butt-fucking hobbit.
Me: I just need to feel pretty and numb. And I trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Kirk squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You do whatever you need to do to get rid of these demons.”
He sparked up a J and offered me the first puff. I gladly accepted. He took one puff of his own, but said that the rest was mine since he didn’t want to drive stoned. See? He was responsible! Weed wasn’t legal in California yet, so I got a little bit baked before I stashed the sativa in the glove box and wrapped a scarf around my hair like a starlet from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Kirk sped out of the parking lot and said he was taking me to a downtown hotel that was hosting a party that night in their lush lobby.
Kadillac Kirk pulled up to the main entrance, paid the valet, and then opened my door. I was wobbly from the weed. And I had stupidly decided to wear heels. You can get high or you can wear high (heels). You can’t have both. Not if you’ve repeatedly injured both ankles (as I have). I had to take Kirk’s arm to keep from keeling over. “Can people tell I’m stoned?” I whispered. Kirk replied, “Nobody’s paying any attention to anyone else’s intoxication. I promise you that much.” I nodded, steadied myself, and strutted alongside my very cool friend, feeling a little more confident.
A live jazz orchestra was playing Cole Porter as we entered the lobby. Everything sparkled. The music was even more intoxicating than the spliff had been. “Just One of Those Things” brought tears to my eyes since the lyrics hit every raw nerve regarding the Dennis debacle. But I smiled. It might sound mental, but being distraught over a trash fire of a one-sided romance was exhilarating. Immature, for sure. But also exhilarating. You see, that kind of sadness doesn’t hurt. Not really. It stings. It leaves little bruises, but it’s very safe to wallow in because you haven’t actually lost anything. Melancholia over that which you never had is as sweet as it is bitter; and that type of twisted splendor is rivaled only by Stendhal.
“Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was great fun, but it was just one of those things.” I sang along with the band, and a fat tear rolled down past my melancholic smile and onto my chin. Kirk brushed it aside. “Too close to home?” I wiped away the remnants of the tear’s journey from eye to chin and smiled a more genuine smile. “The perfect distance from home. Shall we get drinks? Remember, I’m buying.”
Kirk: No, no. This is your time to heal. And I’m here as your pal, not your chauffeur. What would the lady like?”
I pretended to barf. Kirk knew I hated it when he got overly formal and overly attentive. So he did it just to mess with me. “Shot of vodka,” I replied.
Kirk: How many?
I thought briefly. “FIVE.”
Kirk: Five to one, baby. One in five...
Me: No one here gets out alive.
Kirk: Are you able to hold yourself upright, or should you come with?
I took a seat on an ornate, damask-upholstered chaise lounge. “I’ll be okay. And I was kidding about the five shots.”
I sat there lost in the music for a while. I thought very little about Dennis. Even less about Mary. And not at all about Whisky (whom I had shagged less than a week ago). My mind danced through the ornate lighting in the hotel lobby, and I suddenly felt the need to join the hoity-toity guests on the dancefloor!
Kirk returned with four shots of vodka. Two for him, two for me. That was quite reasonable of him. He knew damn well that I couldn’t handle five shots, but he also knew that I was in a... state. One that called for more than a single shot. I raised a both miniature glasses to “No more ninnyhammers or hairy-footed lovers.” Kirk did his hilarious Smegal impression, we double-toasted, and downed the shots. The band launched into “Let’s Misbehave,” and I kicked off my stilettos and made a beeline for the dance floor.
“There’s something wild about you child that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave.” Kadillac Kirk swept me up, twirled me around, and dipped me as we both sang along with the lyrics. I wasn’t swooning for him, but I was enthralled by the moment. The music, the dancing, the combination of booze and bud... so I kissed him as he pulled me back to my feet. And he kissed back. In a way that Dennis never had. In a way that Whisky’s beard wouldn’t permit. I didn’t feel the visceral sensations that I’d felt when Dennis had kissed me, but it felt nice to feel desired. And then I noticed that other guests were watching us and applauding. Now, that was a dopamine rush if ever there was one!
I gently broke away from the embrace, high-fived Kirk and returned to the chaise lounge to put my stupid shoes back on. He followed me and smashed his face back onto mine. I pulled away and laughed. “It was a moment,” I told him. “I appreciate the dance, and that kiss was the perfect finale. But it’s not happening again.”
Kirk: Not to worry, Valerie. I know you. I knew all along that we were performing, and I was more than happy to be your scene partner.
Me: And dance partner! Those were some excellent moves! I didn’t know you had ballroom training.
Kirk: You name it, I’ve mastered it. Another drink for the lady?
I pretended to barf again. “Not yet. I’m not sad right now. Do you mind if I just sit here and enjoy the music?”
Kirk: Ah. My kisses do have healing properties...
I flipped my hand up at him. “Knock that shit off, bro. I wanted to hang out with you because I trust you not to get weird. Even if I get weird, I know you have the maturity to balance me out.”
Kirk: Are you calling me old???
Me: No. I’m calling you rational, responsible, and respectful.
Kirk: Well, now. If you can articulate an alliterative statement that fluently, then you clearly aren’t drunk enough!
I dismissed this comment as a joke. And he did indeed knock off the flirtation. We had a perfectly pleasant time chatting and dancing (no more kissing, though). And then I noticed a girl I knew from Into the Woods entering the lobby. She’d played Florinda and I’d played Little Red. I called her name and waved enthusiastically. She waved back. And then her date entered. It was D.E.N.N.I.S. I sank into the chaise. Kirk caught on immediately. “The hobbit???” he asked. I nodded silently. “You wanna make out again?” he enthused. I shook my head. I had to go say hello to Flo. And I had an idea...
I crossed the lobby, smiled, squealed, and hugged her.
Florinda: Lil’ Red! It’s been forever! So glad to see you!!! This is my friend, Denny.
Dennis was shifting uncomfortably. I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you. I know your date from Into the Woods. I bet she could tell you some entertaining stories about that show...” Flo laughed out loud, well aware of the many misadventures to which I'd referred. Of course, she might have been laughing because Dennis never, ever listened to anyone else's stories. He was too busy telling, re-telling, slightly altering, and exaggerating his own.
Dennis: C’mon, Val...
Me: Oh, you’ve heard of me? Small world! You guys picked a great night to come here. They’re playing Cole Porter, and the band is delovely!
Florinda (appearing oblivious to the iciness between me and Dennis): Have you seen Prince Big Bad (Scumbanger) lately?
I laughed. “Last time I saw him, he was hitting on some nasty fat chick at The Imp.”
Flo and I both scoffed at the pervy pest. Into the Woods was where I’d initially met Scumbanger. He played The Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince. Again... typecasting. There’s a whole essay in my brain about my first encounter with the pest, during which he quoted the song that he sang to me in the show, “Hello, Little Girl.” But it gets into some pretty uncomfortable territory because he made me feel excited. Well, excited and scared. Nothing of note happened during Into the Woods, but our odd interactions did kind of set the stage for some extremely regrettable events during that Cats cast party.
I excused myself, saying that I needed to get back to my friend. And then I leaned in and said in a hushed voice to Flo, “Watch your ass with that one. If he’s the Denny I’m thinking of...” I gave her a look that only another female would be able to read. Her eyebrows shot up and she nodded. Dennis continued to shift as though he were trying to hold in a massive dump. “BABE! Uh...”
Flo apparently answered to that moniker as well. “What is it, Denny? Don’t worry. That was just telepathic girl talk. You apparently have a reputation...”
Dennis: Different Denny. I assure you I’m a pious gentleman.
Me: Ah. My mistake. Well, then. You guys have a good time! Nice to meet you, Denny. Great to see you, Flo!
I hugged Flo again, gave Dennis a curt nod, ignored the scent of mandarins and mountain air, and returned to Kirk.
I collapsed on the chaise lounge, exhausted from holding back the rage. I had no right to be mad at Florinda. I hadn’t seen her in three years, so how was she supposed to know that I’d had a thing with Dennis? Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Dennis because the last time he and I had spoken in any meaningful way, I’d told him that I was no longer entertaining my crush on him. So why was I surprised to see him dating??? And why had he never taken ME out on a date like this??? And why wasn’t I smitten with Kadillac Kirk who HAD taken me out on a date like this, was an objectively excellent kisser, and a bona fide BALLER? What was wrong with me???
Kirk suggested going down the street to a quaint little bar and then sobering up at a diner closer to my apartment. I numbly nodded and followed him in silence for a few blocks. He assured me that I had “turned several heads” on the way to the new location, but I neither cared nor believed him. This wasn't the type of numbness I'd been aiming for. Now I needed to get schnockered. “Five shots of vodka, please.” Yes, I was serious.
Kadillac Kirk, my reliable designated driver, ordered only a beer and watched in something across between astonishment, concern, and delight as I slammed all five shots in rapid succession. I half expected to immediately retch all over the bar. But I felt fine. I half expected to immediately lose consciousness and wake up in the hospital. But I remained coherent. How I’d managed to take in that much hard liquor and suffer no direct consequences, I’ll never know.
I think I wanted to suffer. I wanted to either feel nothing at all or to feel a sickness bad enough to distract me from the scorching sting that pulsed through my being when I realized that I had lost the abstract notion I’d been addicted to this entire time. Hope. It wasn’t Dennis himself I couldn’t quit. It was that drug called hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe Dennis would give our romance a fair chance. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would make peace with himself, get his mind out of his crotch, and enjoy some agenda-free togetherness. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would stop bloviating about his admittedly impressive accomplishments for five fucking minutes and ask about my life. I had my own reasonably impressive accomplishments, even if they paled in comparison to his. A proper suitor would have enjoyed hearing about them.
But seeing him out with another woman, a woman who had no reason to parade her Dennis escapades before me as some means of revenge, a woman he was clearly courting of his own volition... My hope had died. It died before I’d had time to wean myself off it. Now I had to mourn the loss of hope, which is a very tricky brand of grief to navigate. Vodka wasn’t the answer, but it was what I had to work with. So it would have to do.
After enough time had passed without vomiting or collapsing, I asked Kirk to bring his car around to the bar so that I didn’t have to walk two and a half blocks drunk and in heels. He nodded and dramatically leaned in for a kiss. I recoiled. “DUDE! I told you. The moment has passed.”
Kirk: I beg your pardon. I misread your eyes. Thought I saw a green light...
Me: It’s fine. I just want to go home while I’m still feeling okay.
Kirk: Of course. Your chariot will be here soon.
He skipped off to fetch his Cadillac and I noticed that the lights in the bar were beginning to dance a bit. This should have been concerning. But then I realized that I was giggling. Wait... What? Oh shit. Sure, I was drunk from those shots. But what I was feeling in that moment wasn’t drunkery. It was stonery. Kirk probably misread my face because my pupils were dilated. Not from desire, but from drug use.
Some of you might be thinking that I was a bad friend for not introducing Lucy, an old dude connoisseur, to Kirk. Well... I did. Several years before the events of this story. He adored her. She, on the other hand, thought he was immature. And she wasn’t wrong. Lucy was astute when it came to sussing out a person’s true nature. Far more astute than I. Her initial assessment that Kirk was immature is about to be vindicated. Stretch those cringe muscles! It’s almost time for pie...
I somehow managed to get to his car. I honestly don’t recall how I got there. Did one of the bartenders carry me? Did some kind patron allow me to lean on him? Had Kadillac Kirk carried me out? I’m not sure. But my memory ceases to be fuzzy about halfway to the 24-hour diner. It might have been the very same 24-hour diner where Mary pulled her... shenanigans. I’ll never know.
Kirk: Would you say that you’re more drunk or more stoned?
Me: STONED. Definitely stoned.
Kirk made some sort of grunty noise and reached for my thigh. I slapped his hand.
Kirk: Stoned but not amorous? That’s rare.
I started laughing rather unkindly. “You’re a fucking horndog! I thought you were my safe straight male friend, dammit.”
Kirk: I solemnly swear that your safety is my primary concern, my stoned beauty.
I pretended to throw up.
Kirk: So... You’re not horny. But are you hungry? The diner I’m heading to makes this Maple Walnut Pie with the most sumptuous... sensual cream and exquisite drizzling of...
Me: Ew! Stop trying to bang the pie. Bro. Are YOU stoned? (Then I remembered the question.) Yes, I’m hungry. But I don’t like nuts. I’ll have banana cream.
Kirk made that repulsive grunty noise again. “Uhhhhh... Mmmmmm. Cream. Yessssss. Yes, we’ll be there in just a minute.” He was squirming in the driver's seat.
Me: GROSS, DUDE! If you’re gonna be like that I’ll just order HASH brows. Get it? Hash??? (I giggled uncontrollably.). You can’t make that sound nasty.
Kirk: Forgive my jokes. I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.
As Kirk parked, I began to wonder how I might get away with walking shoeless into the diner. The stilettos had to get off my feet. At least while I was walking. And Kirk was kind enough to give me his socks and wear his loafers “island style” into the establishment. Okay, that was gallant of him. Maybe he was going to behave himself for the rest of the evening.
I wasn’t terribly talkative as we sat down, and he expressed concern for my emotional well-being. I wasn’t coherent enough to explain what was happening to my emotions and I wasn’t sure I trusted him with my deep, dark secrets at that point. So I shrugged like a sulky teenager, ran my hands over my messy, windblown hair, and mumbled that I was “just hungry.” And right on cue, a very kind, slightly older waitress with a sweet southern accent stopped by to take our order.
Kirk: Ah, yes. We’ll have two cups of black coffee. And we’ll share a slice of that delectable Maple Walnut Pie.
Waitress: Oh, honey. That pie is scrumptious! I take it you’ve been here before?
Kirk: I have. This will be her first time to taste the splendor.
I hated to be a killjoy, but I interrupted and said to the waitress, “Ma’am? I’m sure the Maple Walnut is excellent, but could I please get a slice of Banana Cream? And a big glass of ice water?
Waitress: Sure, hon! Banana Cream’s just as yummy! I’ll be right back with those coffees and that big water.
Kirk was sucking on the tip of his forefinger and shaking his head a bit. “You’re passing up so many sensational... sensual...”
I put my forehead on the table and growled. “You swore you’d stop being nasty!” I held this #headdesk pose for quite some time before I finally lifted my head... only to see that Kirk was still sucking his fingertip and staring at me like a wild animal. “Pleeeeeease be normal,” I whined. “It’s been a really weird night for me.”
Kirk: Indeed. Many surprises. You know... You’re like titanium. Your flame burns so fast and so bright, if a guy doesn’t get in there while the iron is hot, he’ll never get another chance. I was too slow.
What the...? I was pretty sure he was wrong about titanium burning quickly. I’m no chemistry wiz, but my dad and my oldest brother are both big-brains when it comes to physics and chemistry. So I picked up some things just listening to them talk. Accurate or inaccurate, Kirk was being creepy again. He’d never been creepy towards me before, although I’d seen him act like this with other women. Usually with staggering success. Why????? His money. It had to be his money. Kirk was a nice-looking man, but holy shit... No amount of good looks could save this creep show.
And then, our sweet waitress sat down our coffees, my water, and the two slices of pie. After I gulped down a whole bunch of water, I grabbed a fork, prepared to quell my munchies... and then I froze. Kirk was quickly flicking his finger back and forth across the top of his pie. And moaning. He noticed my wide-eyed stare, smirked, sucked the tip of his thumb, picked up the plate with both hands, and began flicking his tongue across the tip of the triangular pie slice. And moaning some more. Well, there went my appetite.
Kirk took his middle finger and jabbed it into the crustless vertex of the pie slice, then he began pumping it in and out like a piston, and flicking his thumb across the increasingly demolished top layer of whipped cream. He gasped this time. People were starting to stare. His pointer finger joined his middle finger in the piston action, and he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Between flicks of the tongue, he groaned, “Oh yeah, baby... Let me taste you,” but it was kind of hard to understand him.
And I was either about to run to the back office, tell them that I was in danger and needed a police escort home... OR I was about to burst out laughing at the spectacle. Kirk continued... He removed his fingers and gregariously licked pie filling off of them. And then he started sucking his fingertips again, switching from middle to pointer, middle to pointer and emitting a delighted little, “Mmmmmm” with every suck.
Finally, he jabbed his fingers back into the utterly destroyed pie, lowered his face into the mess and lapped loudly and passionately, moaning, grunting, and mumbling “Come on, baby. Come on. Mmmmmm. Come on.” I could see the waitress and some dude in a suit heading over to the table, so I sank down in my seat, partially covered my face, but continued to watch the train wreck. At last, Kirk shuddered violently, he splatted his entire hand onto the plate and rubbed furiously. And then he locked eyes with me. He sucked the tip of his thumb one final time and said, “You...” There was a long pause during which Kirk lovingly stroked the mess he’d made. “You... are the pie.”
I don’t hang out with Kadillac Kirk anymore. But he’s still a bachelor, ladies!

So I’ve worked at the same place for 7 years. I bartend full time with some management shifts and I am in charge of all the training as well. We have at least 50% of our serving staff that is completely useless at their jobs, and almost everyone we train has needed extra training shifts. I get mixed reviews from trainers about the same trainees. One trainer will say they are doing great the next will say the same trainee is doing awful and needs extra training. There’s one where I’ve literally had to swap my shifts to serving, so I could train her myself because she completely failed her certification.
I feel at a loss for what to do. I feel like even the people I have stepped down from bartending to train, are still not doing what I taught them, because they are looking at everyone else who just stands around doing literally nothing and follow suit. They don’t prebus, they don’t run food, they don’t do any running work, they take ages to do sidework that shouldn’t take long, they all ring in their orders incorrectly, they don’t have menu knowledge. They literally all just stand in the side stations or expo line talking while their tables need things, and then either get themselves weeded or wonder why they aren’t getting good tips or why their guests are so angry for “no reason”.
My veterans are getting burnt out and frustrated for picking up the slack. There’s not enough of them to balance out the shifts so there’s many shifts where there is literally one strong server on and the rest are basically useless. Management helps out a ton they basically become our food runners and we even pull hosts to help run food and bus tables to get us by, but I almost feel like it wouldn’t be necessary for the hosts to do that if the servers could just do their jobs.
I guess I’m just wondering if anyone has any experience in turning something like this around on a larger scale. Or just any advice at all. I just want to scream at everyone “if you are always standing around on shifts and not constantly busy that’s because you are a bad server” but obviously that’s not helpful or productive. We are a casual busy restaurant where we need to turn tables quickly and we do high volume. We already cut down servers sections smaller hoping to help, assuming they have too many tables, but then they just stand around and complain more that they’re not busy.
Edit to add: There are a few veterans who, when catching people standing around, just kind of yell at them to go do something but it almost seems to have the opposite effect. There’s two girls that used to run all their drinks from the bar right away. But if their drinks weren’t ready they would just stand there and wait. One of our bartenders yelled at them to “go run food or something” instead of standing there staring at her make drinks, and now I noticed they don’t even run their own drinks and I almost never see them at the bar anymore like they’re scared to go up there. We also had an expo tell a guy to “go bus your tables or something don’t just stand here” when he was standing on the line, and the rest of that night I didn’t see that server come back to the line to get food.
I’ve coached them on watching their tone when talking to the team members because it’s having the opposite effect. I did suggest giving them specific tasks to do, for example when I’m bartending I tell people “run those drinks and I’ll have yours ready when you get back”. But I want to make sure I’m giving good advice because I don’t want them to stop coaching I just want the coaching to be effective.

So just curious if cat owners have any actual responsibility for their cats actions? So a dog owner needs to have it chipped, not walking around loose and pick up any droppings, is there any requirement for cat owners to do the same in an estate setting?
I don't mind cats (way more of a dog person but can't have a dog with our current tiny garden in our estate house) but there is 1 cat that is our arch nemesis.
If we open the door at all, it runs inside and hides. Most of the time you have no idea it's there until you see it coming down the stairs. We have no idea if its house trained, it's pretty quiet until you try to get it out, then it hisses at us.
I don't want to go chasing the cat around the house when I'm heading for work and I don't want to leave it locked in for the day only for it to shit in one of the bedrooms. We're going on holidays soon and we'll have to search the house to make sure it's not inside, just so it doesn't starve to death if it is inside.
It just seems like there is an awful lot of regulation on dogs and virtually none for cats.
Going to buy a load of citronella oil to see if that'll keep it away but after that I'm not sure what to do.

Welcome to the /Fitness Daily Simple Questions Thread - Our daily thread to ask about all things fitness. Post your questions here related to your diet and nutrition or your training routine and exercises. Anyone can post a question and the community as a whole is invited and encouraged to provide an answer.

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Wade held Jasmine in his arms as he flew a low height down the long road to another section of the staryard, Tina on his back and Nathan and F right behind them in the air. Together, the five glided across the base grounds, taking care as to not irritate the aerial security during their search for the meeting room. Being outside for the flight, the group considered it a blessing that Wade's 'enhanced cooling unit' allowed his body to tolerate the breaching sun in the still cloudy sky, which, according to F, was dangerous to drones like her due to the inefficient cooling she and disassembly drones like her suffered from. Given F's physical fault, she had to fly under shady areas in order to safely traverse the base at day.
Originally, Wade and his friends had planned to walk to the meeting zone, but after running into a trooper experiencing a health mishap, the group did what they could to help the distressed officer. By the time he was brought to the medical ward by other soldiers, Wade found that him and his team would be at least a few minutes late if they kept on their way with their walk.
Deciding to speed things up, Wade, understanding the concern for performing such an effort, opted to carry the Fowleys around the base to the meeting area. Reluctantly, F decided to come along, carrying Nathan in a similar manner that Wade was carrying Jasmine. Taking notice of the time on his HUD, which read, "9:47 AM", Wade scouted for the building he and his friends were directed to. "8072" He said to himself, the number being for the building that would house the imminent meeting.
"They said it was down here, right?" Wade asked aloud to Tina before stopping himself in mid-air, the girl holding onto him tightly as he tried to speak over the growing sound of a retrofit Apache flying overhead.
Looking about, Tina nodded as she spotted the target building. "Yes, I believe that's the one over there!" Pointing past his head, Wade followed her finger to a large building ahead at his right. The structure was moderately tall, only about two stories high, with several soldiers and officers going in and out of the building. Wade smiled as he noticed the target number, as well as the big, bold words describing the building's designation. "8072, Briefing Center B"
"Good eye, honey. Hang on!" Continuing his low glide, Wade zoomed towards the building's entrance before stopping just meters above the ground, his two friends close behind as they slowed down as well. The troopers around them initially looked startled by the sudden arrival of Wade and his group, but quickly regained their composure as Wade hovered still above them.
"At ease! Just visitors." One of the soldiers declared as they identified the newcomers, who touched down before Wade let Jasmine down to her feet, Tina hopping onto the ground along with her.
Putting his hands up, Wade apologized for his swift surprise. "Sorry for the scare, we got delayed for a meeting we're invited to."
The soldier gave an understanding nod as he replied to the former worker drone sternly. "I can see that, just be a bit more careful next time, Mr. Carter. You gave the boys here quite a scare."
Wade returned the gesture in embarrassment as F put a hand to his back, chuckling at his efforts as Tina questioned the officer. "Is Mrs. J in there? She's the one who called for us."
The guard gave his reply as Wade and Tina pulled out their IDs for clearance. "Yes she is, Miss. The meeting's set to begin in under ten minutes." Checking the two drones' IDs, Jasmine and the others pulled out theirs as well, the watchman motioning another trooper over to verify the group. Once the guard finished checking the five's cards, he nodded in approval as the watchman spoke once more. "You're clear to enter."
"Thank you Sir, again, sorry about that spook back there." Wade replied with a smile as the trooper gave one of his own, the disassembly drone and his allies making their way towards the office door before stopping upon the call of a voice.
"Hey, Felice!" Wade turned to find the origin of the voice, F doing the same as the two quickly spotted a quartet of soldiers walking excitedly towards F. The disassembly drone glanced to her friends with a smile before turning back to the approaching entourage.
Wade examined the four troops as they got closer: Two human men, one woman, and a male worker drone. One of the male soldiers had short, blonde hair, and a small scar to the right side of their face. The second man bore a tan skin tone and had black hair, with blue strips that went down slightly in a mullet style. The woman bore a set of long, dark green hair, with the hair going down and over her left shoulder. As for the worker drone, he wore the standard green soldier helmet, single eye visor and all. He had no hair on him from what Wade could tell, and bore a pair of whiteish purple eyes on his visor.
As F walked over to the soldiers, the same one that called to her spoke again. "Felicity, I didn't expect to see you around here today! Where you been?"
The girl soldier interrupted his initial chatter. "Hang on Carlos, do you even know if she remembers us?"
"Aye, don't she have one o' them memory locks, or sumthin?" The drone added in a heavy Scottish accent.
F waved her hand as she replied to the group. "Easy, everyone. Thankfully I still got my memories, courtesy of my technician back at Central." Lowering her hand, F let down her usual persona as she gave a wide smirk to the soldiers, clearly pleased to see them. "Good to see you guys around here."
The soldiers gave light cheers to F as they all embraced her, the group having a surprise reunion as Wade and the others watched in surprise. These must've been F's old colleagues from when she was in the service, Wade thought. Quite the coincidence for them to be here at this base of all places.
Not bothering with the convenience of the matter, Wade shook the thought off as he and his friends watched F and her old friends breaking the hug, Tina wrapping an arm around her boyfriend as the second male human spoke to her in what the two discerned as Spanish. "Ay, who your new friends, F?"
"Oh, these guys?" F replied in the same language, quietly startling Wade and the others as they had never heard her speak like that until now. Glancing over to Wade, F motioned him and the others to come over. "Everyone, these are some friends I made in the past few days. Wade, Nathan, Tina, and Jasmine." She pointed her hand to the four as she said each of their names. "I met the boys here during my time on Ceres. Jasmine and Tina here are sisters."
The four soldiers gave various forms of excitement, ranging from hearty laughs to low woops and even a whistle from one of the guys. As F stood next to her old teammates, they each introduced themselves to Wade and his friends. The blonde soldier went first. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all, name's Carlos, Lieutenant Marksman."
"I'm Private Alvaros, good with close-range and stealth operations." Said the tan soldier with a salute.
"Sergeant Lucia Vasquez, usually the one who leads this bunch around these days." The female warrior stated with a humorous smirk.
"And Corporal Duncan Wallace, at your service!" The soldier drone stated proudly as he saluted to the bunch in front of him, who gave warm smiles as Wade shook his hand.
"Quite honored to meet you all, seems you have quite the history with F." The former worker drone said as Carlos patted F on her back.
"Oh, we do! She's the one who took charge when we didn't! Did you all hear of the Pasting of Nola VI?" Jasmine and Tina gave nods of affirmation while Wade, not as familiar with such history, held his hand up in a questioning manner.
"I think, wasn't that the battle where the Navy just barely held the outpost in that system? From the Stryker Clan?" Wade asked as Carlos nodded approvingly to him.
"That's right, and if Felice weren't there, WE would've been the ones getting pasted!" Carlos' statement brought victorious cheers and "oorahs" from the group, F letting a blush loose as she chuckled at her team's praise of her efforts.
"Well, that's not wrong." Although she didn't want to break off from her friends and discuss the past few years since they'd last met, F remembered the briefing. Clearing her throat, she continued. "And as much as I'd like to chat about the good times, I've been called to a meeting here, as have Wade and his crew."
The soldier group gave understanding looks to F as Lucia spoke up. "Thought so, Carl here was real eager to see you, though."
"Maybe we can talk after the meeting?" Nathan proposed as the soldiers collectively nodded in agreement, F readying a smartcomm attachment before turning to face her friends again.
"We're probably getting low on time, you all go in, I'll catch up in a sec." Wade nodded in acknowledgement before taking Tina's hand, the lover drones continuing towards the briefing center as Jasmine and Nathan followed behind them.
Passing through the door, the four guests observed a short hallway, which seemed to split into two paths as they came closer to the other end. Looking to a sign on the wall above, they saw arrows pointing to two separate areas, "Primary Briefing Room; Main Lobby + Secondary & Tertiary" Going to the right, they entered the moderately active lobby, several officers walking and standing about in mass chatter. Walking over to the desk up against the wall to their left, Wade and his group waved a hand to the occupying attendant.
"Welcome, what do you need?" The desk attendant asked as Tina raised a finger to reply.
"We're here for a meeting, Mrs. J called us here."
The attendant nodded in understanding before directing an arm towards the other end of the room, where a single door stood. "She should be in the second briefing room down that way."
"Thank you." Tina replied warmly before she and Wade began walking towards the door, their friends behind them as they proceeded into the room.
The room beyond the door was quite sizable, a large circular table occupying the middle with several chairs surrounding it. The walls went up a few meters, with four whiteish blue lights illuminating the room. On the wall opposite to Wade and Tina were three monitor screens, all of which showed the USN in bright blue. In several of the seats were faces both familiar and unfamiliar, several men and women in varying styles of uniforms conversing about quietly or taking notice of the recent visitors. Standing up near the monitors were three people: A decorated officer whom Tina identified as a ship captain, and the so-called operatives, Tessa, albeit as a hologram, and J.
Walking slowly into the room, Wade gave a low wave of his hand as he tried to hide his nervousness. Noticing his shyness in front of the officers, Tina held his hand and rubbed his arm comfortingly while returning a pleasant smile to the staff in the room.
"Ah, Wade, Tina. Glad to see you all here." J stated with a smile as she scanned the group, raising a digital eyebrow as she noticed one missing guest. "Or, most of you, I see. Did F run off somewhere?"
Wade shook his head as he replied to his fellow disassembly drone. "Oh, no. She just ran into some old friends, she should be back-"
"Right now." F finished aloud as she entered the room, seemingly having heard Wade speaking about her absence. The warrior drone fast walked to Wade's team, taking a seat near them as they prepared to do the same. "Not too late, are we?"
"Not at all." The standing officer answered as the group took their seats, Wade and Tina sitting next to each other as they got comfortable. The captain examined the lot for a moment, glancing to J as he asked about them. "So, these are the ones you helped rescue from the Mojave?"
"Yes Captain, and they helped us out greatly in turn. This is Wade Carter, one of the captured drones whom became a disassembly drone before we could mount the rescue. The luckiest one, if you ask me." Motioning her arm over the others, she continued. "And there's his girlfriend, Mrs. Tina Fowley, and her sister Jasmine." Smirking to F and Nathan, she finished her friends' introductions. "And these two are Serial Designation F and Mr. Nathan, whom I've heard were once under your ranks."
The military captain gave a welcoming smile to the five as they returned the gesture, eyeing F and Nathan specifically before speaking to them. "Indeed they were, we still have records on their contributions to the colonies." Eyeing F, he continued. "Though, in Mrs. F's case, I won't blame her if she doesn't remember us. We've been very well aware of JCJenson's 'memory suppression' protocols when it comes to their DDs."
F laid back in her seat with a smug look as she replied to her former superior. "Well, my friend on the station's a good tech gal. She's... waived that hindrance from me."
"I see, that means your still with us, am I right, Mrs. Lee?" Unlike her friends next to her, F was not startled by her original name being said aloud, rather smiling proudly as she saluted to the captain. "Good to see you again."
"Pleased to be here, Sir." F replied as she lowered her arm, glancing to her companions next to her as J spoke up.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Captain Preston Mitchell, commander of the USNV Vickers down at the stardock."
Wade gave a respectful salute to Preston as he spoke first. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir."
"Thank you, Mr. Carter. I've heard about your efforts from J, you did an admirable job back there, son." Wade failed to hide an embarrassed blush from the compliment, but it quickly faded as a beep sounded from a small device on the table. It was swiftly silenced by the captain as he tapped a button on the small, pyramid shaped timer, then facing Wade's group before continuing. "Though, as much as we could use some small talk, it'll have to wait till later."
"Indeed, we're running late at this point." Said another officer, a highly decorated member of the base with dark skin, dark grey hair and a thin beard. He immediately won the attention of everyone in the room as he spoke up. "I'm General Hugh Hood, overseer of this base. I'm certain you know some of the reasons you're here with us, correct?"
Wade nodded as he spoke to Hood. "Yeah, it's cause of those rogue agents from the JCJenson corporation." Glancing to J, the corporate drone nodded in affirmation before speaking herself.
"Tessa and I spent the last hours of yesterday evening clearing up the matter with General Hood, along with several other officials stationed here." She stopped as the middle monitor behind her flashed with a banner at the top, reading, "INCOMING TRANSMISSION", and in place of the USN emblem was a textless version of the JCJenson logo. Below the profile image was another two lines of text. "N. Jenson (Company Exec); Comms Source: Yottrite IV"
"And also told our boss about what happened here too, he wanted to give his say on this ordeal." Looking to the general, J asked him, "May I put him on?"
Hood only gave a nod of approval to the corporate drone before she picked up a remote on the table and tapped a button, accepting the call as the picture shifted to show a middle-aged man in a pristine-looking business suit on the screen.
Wade and Tina glanced to each other before J introduced their guest on the screen. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the CEO of JCJenson: Mr. Noor Jenson."
Jenson gave a pleased nod to his subordinate as he spoke to J. "Thank you for the pleasantries, J. I see we are ready to discuss our plans on dealing with this 'recall' disaster I've bore witness to on the news this morning?"
J nodded as she replied to her boss. "Indeed, I've explained to General Hood here about our efforts yesterday, and, as of recent, we've just received a message from a source we believe to be close to the company."
Mr. Jenson looked down to J attentively as he spoke to her. "Well, that's quite intriguing news, J. Do you have this message available for us to view?" J and Hood both nodded in affirmation, but didn't get an immediate reply as Jenson gazed to Wade and his friends. "...And I presume these are some of the drones rescued from one of the factories?"
Again, J nodded to her superior before explaining her colleagues. "Yes Mr. Jenson, the two drones at the front in particular were among those taken by the Administrator and their subordinates." Pointing an arm to Wade and Tina, she introduced the drone couple. "The disassembly drone here is Mr. Wade Carter, a brother to his-technically speaking-owner, the late Ron Carter. The latter helped us recover Wade during an initial raid inside the Nevada facility." When bringing up Ron, J gave an apologetic look to Wade as to show she did not mean to be offending on him and his brother's relationship. "And this is his romantic partner, Mrs. Tina Fowley. I heard she and her sister Jasmine are pilots."
Jenson looked over the two drones as his obedient employee described them to him, quietly sighing as Wade and Tina returned the gaze with nervous smiles. Once J finished, Jenson spoke to Wade. "I... would say it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter. But, given recent events, I don't hold fault to you for feeling frustrated at me for my... former subordinate's actions."
Wade shook his head lightly, taking Jenson's light apology with a faint smile as he replied to the CEO. "Actually, I don't. The only person I have such feelings put towards is," He hesitated for a moment, his anger at Dr. Halloway returning for a short moment before he eased himself. "..That bastard Halloway."
"The feeling's mutual, Mr. Carter. Dr. Halloway has been trying my patience for years now, especially with you and your fellow disassembly drones." Looking to J, then F, he returned his gaze to Wade before questioning him on his new body. "I don't know if J has told you of this, but if there's one truth my company has admittedly not held up to for a while, it's our quality. Recently, some of my research staff here made blueprints for an upgraded variant of the disassembly drone design. It's intended to fix several faults we expected to be nonexistent previously, most notably that atrocious cooling unit."
As a schematic pulled up on the left monitor, everyone glanced to the improved design before F spoke up about it. "If I may ask, Mr. Jenson, how big of an improvement is this new cooling unit supposed to be?"
"Good question, F. Frankly, it's supposed to do away with the issue entirely. Saves us from sacrificing enormous supplies of oil for the poorly built unit in the previous iterations. We even tested it with a repaired drone just a few days ago, and it worked flawlessly." Then, glancing to Wade again, he questioned the former worker drone on his new form. "Speaking of, how does your enhanced body feel, Mr. Carter? I'm certain it feels better to not have to-"
"Actually, Mr. Jenson," Wade interrupted, pulling out one of his canteens as he answered the CEO on his upgrades. "I guess Halloway changed up the blueprints, cause unfortunately this new cooling unit didn't cure the overheating problem. I... kinda learned that the hard way." Wade glanced to Tina apologetically, still feeling bad from her seeing him eat the corpse of the dead murder drone back at the factory.
The corporate CEO grimaced in frustration as he took in Wade's statement, already intolerant of the head researcher's actions as he replied. "...I was worried about that, Edgar always likes to run things his own way, making excuses for that 'Administrator' he watches over." Taking an agitated breath, he continued on with his spew on the two culprits of yesterday's events. "It was only because of all the very impressive creations and enhancements she and her research team provided that I tolerated them for so long, but this..." Sitting up straight in front of the camera, Jenson finished sternly. "J said the Administrator... Cyn, I believe? She was apparently something worse than we presumed originally, and I'm very inclined to believe so after yesterday."
"As well as the program tied to the Administrator, the AbsoluteSolver." J clarified before receiving an agreeing nod from Mr. Jenson, standing corrected on his placing of blame.
Raising a hand, Nathan asked about the supposed plans. "Yeah, about this "Solver Project", what do we plan to do about that?"
"Good question, Nate." Tessa replied as she crossed her arms before looking to Jenson and beginning her explanation. "Initially, we were going to investigate the other factories spread across Earth in order to get some more info on the Administrator before things get worse. But, just this morning, it seems someone else saved us the trouble." Just as Tessa neared the end of her sentence, J held up the remote again, tapping a few buttons before the left monitor shifted to show a slightly grainy video onscreen.
The video only showed a single being, a worker drone, dressed in a chrome suit and bearing a set of yellow eyes. Behind them was what appeared to be a vacant room, a few shelves holding many books within them standing still in the back. The drone's visage indicated they were filled with immense anxiety, terrified of being caught as they spoke quietly to the camera.
"I can only hope someone gets this in time, they're gonna be on me once they find out the transmitter screens are down!" Turning the camera, he showed what appeared to be a large factory room, several more of the mysterious conveyor belts like at the factory slotted next to each other. It was hard to discern every detail due to not only the window reflection, but also the dark lighting in the inactive conveyor room. Filming the room beyond, the drone continued. "Dr. Halloway's a madman, he's got more of those stolen drones being brought here and he's going to be overseeing it in the afternoon tomorrow! I've seen what happened back in Nevada, I can't take this any longer! I'm at coordinates ##.######, -###.###### Please, send someo-"
The suspicious, partially scrambled transmission immediately cut off to static, leaving Wade, Tina, and their friends with confused expressions as Tessa spoke up. "Yeah, that caught me by surprise too."
"So, that guy says they got more drones being sent 'there', but... where is there, exactly?" Jasmine asked with immense curiosity.
"I was hoping you'd ask that, Mrs. Fowley." The technician replied as she glanced to J, who tapped a few more buttons on the remote before speaking over her boss-friend.
"While the transmission itself isn't much to work off of, our friends from Comms over here managed to intercept the signal earlier, and even better, discern where it originated from." As J started her explanation, the screen shifted once more to show a large city, with one skyscraper highlighted in red as it was zoomed towards on the screen. "That scrambled audio wasn't a simple glitch, it was intentionally done so as to hide key information for us to uncover. Upon cleaning up the message, we managed to recover a set of coordinates, which direct to this structure here, in San Francisco."
Wade and his friends stared at the building in shock, examining the tall structure as it stood over the shorter buildings in the city. Tina broke the silence in her gaze. "So, this is another factory? It looks... terribly different from the one we got out of."
"Not exactly, Mrs. Fowley." Mr. Jenson answered, Tina and the others looking to him as he continued. "THAT is the Administrator's main laboratory, its location was kept on the down low so other authorities and terrorist groups wouldn't find out what the buildings true purpose was." Sighing, Jenson completed his reply. "But, with this recent mistake of Halloway's, that place has lost all purpose for us at the company."
Wade raised a hand to speak. "So, we're going to pounce on that place? Get Halloway before he runs off again?"
"Exactly." General Hood replied as he looked up to Mr. Jenson. "This whole 'recovery/recruitment' effort has gotten out of hand all across Sol. We've gotten countless reports of people being killed because of this, be it the brutal robberies here in Nevada or the bloodbath on Ceres. Even if Mr. Jenson refuses to cooperate, this has become a dire matter for us now. One way or another, this insanity will be stopped with due haste."
The CEO nodded in acknowledgement before explaining his own plans for the mission. "Speaking of cooperation, upon seeing what was happening at Earth, I ordered a detachment of our corporate starships in orbit at the time to depart for Sol in order to help with investigating the situation. They're not warships, but they are well-armed. I'll dispatch them to your authority upon concluding this call." Glancing to Wade and his team for a moment, Jenson continued. "As for the mission, I may not have much of a say, but let it be known that you have my blessing to do whatever it takes to end this madness. I don't care what you do with Halloway or any of his lackeys, or what happens to that facility down there... I want that program shut down."
"Thank you for the extra hands, Mr. Jenson. We'll make sure this Administrator is dealt with." Hood replied gratefully as Wade sat firm in his seat, Tina and the others following suite.
"General?" The former worker drone said aloud, catching Hood's attention before he made his request. "I know I'm not a soldier, but I want to help with dealing with Halloway and his grunts. After what he did, after losing my brother, I can't rest until I see that man stopped."
Tina raised a finger as well. "As do I, Wade could use a hand with those people, and given how we did during our escape run out of that place, I think the two of us make quite the duo." She glanced to Wade with a smirk as she referenced their combat prowess when flying together.
Nathan and F stood up before the latter gave her own request. "Sir, I wish to take part in this mission as well. I can also recommend Wade for you too, as I fought alongside him during the factory raid."
"Wouldn't mind giving a hand myself! And I'm sure my pal Kurtis would love to help, he's here at the base too!" Nathan added with a confident smirk, the group's determination encouraging Jasmine to stand up as well.
"I'd like to help too." She stated simply, a smile on her face as the general and his companions observed the five guests.
Admittedly, Hood knew it would be a bit absurd to allow these people to take part in an operation which would certainly involve bloodshed, especially considering most of them merely had civilian status at the moment. But, upon careful evaluation of the five, their desire to see this problem dealt with, and the fact that some of them had experience on the field...
He paused his train of thought as Captain Mitchell spoke to him. "General? I read up on the Fowleys' files when we recovered Mrs. Jasmine here, they provided service in their early careers." He smirked to the pilot sisters as he finished adding his say. "And to be frank, we need more people like them here. The records we have of them showed them to be damn fine pilots."
Tina blushed at the praise from Mitchell as she spoke to the general. "That is true, we uh... did get discharged for our... 'fancy maneuvering'."
"Sir?" Jasmine said, the general's attention on her as she added to the conversation. "Even if our flying is a bit out of protocol, Tina saved a lot of people on that starjet a few days back. I can promise you, she's an excellent woman to have at the wheel."
Glancing to Wade again, Hood took in his face, one of begging desperation as he spoke once more. "Please, Sir. My brother, the troops he brought from the Coalition, Halloway's gotten them all killed cause of this. I want to do this. I HAVE to do this, at least for them."
The good general took a deep, quiet breath, considering his decision once more before finally revealing it to Wade and his friends. "Mr. Carter, Fowleys? I'm probably making myself a fool for saying this, but you're permitted to assist us in this mission."
The drone couple contained their gratefulness in the form of ecstatic grins as Wade replied to the general. "Thanks, General. We won't let you down."
"And Mrs. Lee?" Hood said as he glanced to F, who returned the gesture as he told her, "You're technically under Mr. Jenson's authority, whatever his answer is, it's mine as well."
Bringing her yellow-orange eyes to her CEO, F awaited Mr. Jenson's answer. "F, yes? I heard Mr. Hood call you by a different name just now, I assume you have some experience with the army?"
The warrior drone nodded as she explained herself. "I once inherited the name of Felicity Lee, Mr. Jenson. I served under the USN Defense Forces before joining the DD Division." Then, glancing to the military staff near her, she finished with, "I had hoped to provide my enhancements to the Force one day."
Jenson gave a hint of a proud smile as he finally gave his decision. "Well, it seems you'll finally get that chance. From now on, even after this mission on Earth is over with, you're hereby dispatched to serve under the USN."
F admittedly couldn't hide her excited smirk as she flung a salute to her now former boss. "Thank you Sir!"
Looking up to Jenson, General Hood asked the CEO, "Mr. Jenson, how long until your ships can reach Earth?"
Jenson glanced down at his communication console as he answered the military leader. "At max speed, their Ion drives should be able to bring them into orbit in as little as one to two days. I believe there should be some ships within the system that could help as well."
"Signal them when you can, Mr. Jenson. We could use all the help we can get from them." The CEO nodded to Hood as he stood firmly to the viewer, the general turning to face Wade and his colleagues. "And Mr. Carter? We'll be mobilizing our forces immediately after this meeting concludes. It'll be a minute, but I want you to gather whatever items and belongings you'll need for this operation. Be ready to head to the flight pads in no more than three hours."
"Understood Sir!" Wade said with a salute, Tina, Jasmine and Nathan giving their own as Jasmine raised a finger.
"What about the area around the lab? That place looks like it's in the middle of the city."
J raised a finger as she told Jasmine and the others about their resolution of the civilian obstacle. "Shortly after reporting our findings on the transmission, Hood told us that they were sending in some teams to clear out the civilian population within several miles of the facility. Once we get there, it should be of no concern."
Jasmine sighed in relief as Tina spoke up. "So the people should be safe from any sort of danger?"
"Correct, Mrs. Tina." Preston answered before continuing. "Given the resistance Halloway and his men showed during the Coalition's raid, they most certainly won't hold back there."
"One more thing, Sir." Nathan asked. "The Coalition's going to help us out with this too, right?"
"You can count on it, Mr. Nathan." The Vickers' captain replied as he looked to J, then to Jenson as he spoke further. "I met the leader of the Coalition's detachment working with us when I was introduced to J and Mrs. Elliott here, they intend to see this conflict finished. I highly doubt they're willing to sit back and let us do this by ourselves."
"And their help will be much appreciated." Hood added, everyone's attention returned to him as he looked to Tessa, curious eyes scanning her holographic form. "And Mrs. Elliott, if I may. Do you mind heading down here to assist us in our investigations later on?"
"Funny you say that, General. I'm almost done with my own snooping around on the JCJ up in orbit, Cyn has some small departments of hers aboard, and I thought I'd gather some more intel before coming down." Glancing to Mr. Jenson, she saw him giving an understanding nod before returning her gaze to the military staff. "I should be down there by the evening, judging by where you're located."
"Do what you must, Mrs. Elliott. We could use whatever you find." Hood replied firmly as he turned once more to the JCJenson CEO. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Jenson. We will get to the bottom of this."
"It's my pleasure, General." Glancing to J and Tessa, he spoke to them once more. "J? Contact me when you've finished with Halloway and his Administrator."
"It'll be done, Mr. Jenson." The obedient servant answered before saluting firmly, receiving a final nod from her boss before he ended the transmission.
With their off-world guest out of the way, Hood looked to Wade and his friends, J, Tessa and Captain Mitchells sharing the gaze with them as the general spoke to them in finality. "Well, you know what comes next everyone. You're all dismissed for now. And remember, landing zone by 1300."
"We'll be there Sir." Wade said with a nod as he and his friends stood up, pushing in their chairs before making their way out to the door.
As they neared it, Wade stopped for a moment as they heard Hood call to one of his friends. "And F?" The soldier drone looked to the general as he continued. "Before we depart, would you mind changing your uniform? I believe it could help with identifying you from the other disassembly drones more easily." Glancing to J, then back to F, he finished with, "I recall hearing about the most formidable drones having clones prepared, yes?"
"Correct, Sir. I'll stop by the nearest barracks while I can." F replied before turning back to the door with her colleagues, Wade opening the door for them all as they passed through. After them, Wade passed through himself, shutting the door to the meeting room as he returned to the lobby.
Walking about together, F spoke to Wade and the others. "Well, that went smoothly. I'll be heading down to the barracks, then head over to your place to help out."
"Actually," Wade replied, raising a finger up as he asked his fellow murder drone, "You think you could bring your friends over? We could get to know each other while we're getting ready."
F glanced to Nathan with a smile before returning her eyes to Wade. "I could see about that. You're gonna like them, I can promise you that."
Taking Tina's hand, Wade walked with his girlfriend alongside Jasmine and the others, nearing the hallway they came through as they prepared for the walk back to the apartment.

As a non-EU national, here are some notes from my personal VFS experiences:
Online appointment

1. You don't need to provide all docs when booking a Schengen visa appointment. You can do it parallelly i.e. secure an appointment, and use the days leading up to it to gather and print all necessary docs + copies of everything including expired passports + visas.
2. Be careful NOT to keep refreshing the page (no matter how tempting it is) because there's a limit and if you cross it, you will be penalised. You will be asked to refresh your browser cache/cookies and/or wait for 2 hours. You can try to use a dummy email for the refreshing so that when you see a slot open up, you simply log in with your real one and then book the slot. Sometimes when you log in repeatedly, it doesn't let you log in for a while. Don't be alarmed. Try using multiple devices or network connections.
3. Slots open up randomly and it's hard to predict the pattern. I noticed it opened up 1x every 15-17 days in the evening around 6 pm. If you can afford to go to another city, you may be able to find slots at other VFS centres in the country that receive less volume. I had been checking everyday for an entire month and a half before I managed to get a slot.
4. It will NOT show you all available slots but they do exist (!!!). Don't fall for this terrible UI/UX dark pattern. The moment you see it a slot is available on XXX date. Click on the button because they actually have more slots in a calendar once you progress to that page. A lot of people don't realize this and wait for all dates to show up on the first screen. So even if you are not sure about the date it shows, that's fine. You will be able to see calendar availability for the next ~2 weeks and also be able to choose the time slot in the morning, afternoon, etc.
5. Appointment confirmation takes time once you reach the payment page and you may not get an email right away. The first attempt was rejected and no money was deducted thankfully. But it told me to check in 5 hours. When I did, I had no confirmation on my Dashboard. I tried again and used another payment method which deducted my money. But still not confirmation. After about 2 hours, I checked my dashboard and it was confirmed. Still no email confirmation. I had to manually re-send the booking confirmation.
6. The DOB on my appointment confirmation on VFS portal was incorrect even though I put the right one. The code is messed up because it showed the date of booking minus 1 year as my DOB. Don't worry if this happens. Go to your appointment. (All the money they take and they can't fix this bug). This happens if you don't book their Insurance - and I didn't. The poor design might make it seem like that's a required step, but it's not.
7. Once you get an appointment, the window to reschedule is small but you will not lose your existing slot if you do click the button to explore the options.

At the centre

1. Poor design extends IRL where they don't have clear signages making people think that the Premium Lounge is the only option. The person told me that I would have to pay a horrendous amount of about 155 EUR / 168 USD (which wasn't listed on the website). I said no thanks. They tried to convince me by saying that lounge doesn't have a queue. I told her to tell me where the regular booth was. Surprise surprise. There was no queue there either. It's just a trick for you to pay as much money as possible.
2. Queues for uncommon or less mainstream countries like Luxembourg, Slovenia, Croatia, Poland were practically empty for the first 2 hours in the morning and less crowded. Popular countries like France, Italy, and Germany were packed by 10.30 am with only a few seats available. This is also the section that has more seats and more booths due to the volume of applicants.
3. Even if you have all copies and all documents, be prepared for them to stump you because it's unlikely the experience will be frictionless. Your photo won't work if you are wearing glasses or the background isn't white etc etc etc. It seems like their mandate is to not accept applications on the first go. Even when I have had all the documents and all copies, there's been something that they bring up. Eg. "the visa processing time is 60 days" but when I booked my appointment, it was 15-20 days on the website (I still have 45 days though). The person told me that they would have to ask the manager (but that never happened). They made me write a declaration stating I was made aware of this by the personnel. I mean, it's a bit ridiculous. As it is, you barely get an appointment, when you do the instructions differ from when you actually go there. So, there's really no winning.
4. Apparently their Trustpilot feedback is fake. Even if you write something, chances are it will get overshadowed by bots. There was a case about how they manipulated this overnight.
5. Make sure your docs and bookings have YOUR NAME on everything, dates, locations (with addresses for accommodation), and phone number and email of the places. Once you submit this, they will "verify" and make you wait. I literally saw one of the dudes behind the counter playing with my passport smh.
6. Your name will be called and you will get a slip (this means they have accepted your application) which includes tracking information etc. You will need to go make the payment. After this, go BACK TO THE COUNTER where you submitted docs. Collect your folder and proceed to the biometric room. Don't sit, give the person your receipt/slip and wait in the queue. Your name will be called to do the biometric stuff. After this, you have to, once again, GO BACK to the counter and submit your folder with your documents and passport. Then, we wait and hope for the best.
7. Do your research and get receipts and printouts of EVERYTHING because I wouldn't trust the people behind the counter to do their due diligence. I mean EVERYTHING. If you intend to take an internal train or a public bus, print out the train schedule and put it in there. If you intend to go to another country that allows visa-free entry for valid Schengen visa holders, take a printout of that Embassy's notice and put it in. I can't stress this enough. Get proof and documentation for everything you possibly can.
8. FYI Some countries say it has to be your "first" port of entry and/or "main destination". Some countries will only accept if it is your MAIN destination i.e. longest duration of stay. Check relevant sites and be careful!

IDK if this goes to show how cumbersome the process is but it is almost always unpleasant and borderline traumatic. I feel for the people who don't know any better, who have to rely on some agent, or in general are unable to see through the BS. The monopoly enables them to play God and while their job should be to pass on your docs and application, they seem to exercise their own discretionary power to make it hell for people who don't know better. Meh.
I have never left a VFS appointment feeling good about anything. I don't think the Premium Lounge would have helped to solve this either. I hope the VFS monopoly dies and the Schengen Visa digitisation makes this easier. Good luck and hang in there.

I woke up to seagulls this morning, I really like the sound of them. I mean they don’t make pretty sounds, nor is it relaxing, but it feels like a comforting noise I guess? I think because I like being by the sea. I’m not sure. It was nice though. I love living by the sea, like I hear ship horns and seagulls and all of that. It makes me forever paranoid of tsunamis though. I think I’d like to live in a little seaside town with my honey, but I also don’t because then I couldn’t have the garden of my dreams nor would I have the countryside lifestyle I want. I don’t really know what I want. I don’t think I have enough money to be all that picky anyway.
I kind of woke up with that pit in my stomach feeling today. I don’t like how our calls were last night, either one of them. The first I felt like he didn’t want to talk to me and the second it was me being like that to him. I didn’t mean to make it come across that way, but I think he just caught me out when I was mid-deep sleep? I couldn’t wake up or focus and idk. Normally I’m fine to wake up though? And I love his night time calls, to know he’s thinking about me makes me feel so warm inside. It feels weird to think I ever cross his mind when we aren’t in an active conversation, I guess that comes back to the self esteem thing and feeling unworthy of being a thought in his mind, not feeling important enough, or something. But in that second call, I guess I didn’t like that he got me off the phone earlier because he was so sleepy, but then it turned out he was still up and about two hours later? It made me feel like he lied about being tired to get rid of me. I don’t think that was the case, but it’s how it made me feel in the moment. Anyway I woke up feeling uneasy, I felt okay but a little uneasy so I made sure to apologise. I think as well because I fell asleep feeling a little uneasy, it felt like he rushed me off the phone or like I was boring him to death or something. But it made me think about how it’s only 9pm where he is, and that he could quite easily have someone come over around that time. I don’t believe he would do that, but it scares me all the same. The way in which he could crush me into nothing is a little frightening sometimes, it really feels like I’ve just laid out my sad little heart out there for him to stomp all over if he so wishes to do so. I know if he did end things I would be okay, I think, but I can’t say I don’t worry about how it would affect my mental health and “recovery” - how far would it set me back? But also that’s not on him at all, and I’m never ever going to imply as such to him. He ought to make decisions based on what he wants and is best for him. Anyway it’s fine and we talked this morning and nothing has changed for him either, we both still want each other and this so it doesn’t even matter. I still feel bad about how I made him feel. I’m really glad, even though I made him feel bad which I wish I hadn’t, but sometimes it really helps to have him say he still wants this. I know his actions speak louder than words, but sometimes I need the words too. And so him saying “I’m still the same” was really reassuring and made me feel so lovey.
I’ve made a hair appointment, for end of June. I kind of wanted it early June as my hair is annoying the f out of me now, but her first available slot is end of June sooo I guess it still works out well. It gives me five weeks to continue growing out my layers so that we can start afresh. I’m going to get my face framies cut shorter this time as they grow out so quickly. I think otherwise I’ll get very subtle layering, enough to add some movement and help it air dry nicely, but I want the ends as thick as possible too. I’ll get a general root touch up to darken them up a little, and then a tonegloss for the lengths to cool down the warmth a little and darken it up ever so slightly. And then I’ve booked in for a full on olaplex treatment, so that will be nice. I am all about my hair health this year. I always have been but now even more so.
It’s so autumnal today. I really want to watch my favourite cosy romcoms, their autumn scenes are always my most absolute favourite. And winter I suppose. Basically Meg Ryan in autumn is my favourite thing and comforts me to no end.
I think I assume that if I know something then everyone else must know it too, so when they don’t I find it baffling that they don’t know. I guess because I consider myself thicker than a brick and everyone else smarter than I am, so I’d say in the team quiz no one knows the answer I start thinking how do you not know this, but that’s unfair of me and I’m making an assumption based on my low self esteem. But also I am as dumb as a rock so I mean there’s low self esteem and then there’s self awareness. But I just assume that if I know something, then it therefore must be as widely known as 2+2=4.
I’m wearing my Mon Guerlain perfume today, I quite like it, I guess I liked it a fair but considering I seem to have both a bottle of the edp and edt? I think this was during lockdown. Anyway I never wear it but I am today as it’s quite a warm scent, it’s like a warm vanilla but with a touch of lavender? Barely any lavender though, just a teeny tiny little bit. I just googled and that’s exactly what it is so yay me! Except it’s blatantly obvious so perhaps I’ll calm down on the self celebrations. Anyway it’s not one I’d replace but I do like it I suppose. It feels a little mature, not in an older woman way but in a mid-40s way. I read a comment and it said that it gives wife-and-adoring-mother with a wealthy husband, who’s just kissed her children goodnight before sweeping off in her furs to dinner and the opera. It’s classy and elegant, but with something warm and motherly to it and I get that too. Like the mama in Peter Pan! Anyway I’m a little ways off that stage of my life. But it’s a nice wfh scent I suppose. Most of my perfumes are just wfh/chill at home ones now. I wear perfume everyday, I’d say that’s silly but a) Andy tends to too and anything he does that I do makes me feel more assured it’s okay, b) I have a lottttt to get through and c) even if I didn’t have a lottttt to get through I still would because I just like to feel pretty. I may be as ugly as a troll but I will still be presentable enough. Not nicely, but perfume, groomed brows, glowy skin/skincare, my cutie lil diamond studs, brushed hair etc. Except I like a lived in look, I don’t like to look super prim and proper I prefer more bedheady hair and to look like I don’t care an awful lot, but in a nonchalant Kate Moss way not a get wrecked Adam Sandler way. Except I think Adam Sandler is the better of the two - I read he still has a regular-ish house? Then again it was the internet and I’m as gullible as… idk something gullible. That’s what I adore about Andy, he will do his own research and not believe anything outright, he’ll question it and all of that. Whereas I can just be like woowwwww crazy and then move on. There are many ways I’d like to be more like him, I don’t want to be like him but I just want to be better and he’s better so idk. He seems a little paranoid I’ll be like his ex who basically tried to become the tweedle dum to his tweedle dee, but I mean that’s never going to happen? I like to try things he likes, for example snacks and drinks and things. And if he says he enjoys using something and recommends it, ie his mouse, then I take his recommendations seriously. But I’m never going to dress or act like him, I mean I adore him but I don’t want to be a man…? I like being girly and different from him! But I just mean I like how he approaches things, I like how he handles disagreements or thinks about new information - they’re things I want to kind of learn from him. Not in a way where I’d ask because that makes it weirder. Idk. This whole thing is weird. I just admire him. Now I sound like some kinda single white female… which I am… oh god.
Todays been fine overall. I did something new workwise, getting into LOEs for H&S speeding stuff, I had a call with a manager about one of his direct reports this morning and he was like I mean is it that bad and I had to tell a 40 something grown man that it is indeed bad to speed 28km over the speed limit. For any reason. And in a branded vehicle at that. Anyway so then I had to do the letter which was fine but it’s such a confusing template so I suggested some alterations to the Head of and she said they were excellent and she would change the template letter to include my suggestions, so that made me feel good. I enjoy that part of my work, I think I like processes and policies and all of that stuff. Idk why someone with social anxiety thought it would be smart to get into PEOPLE advisory. But like I said, as thick as a brick.
I had such a fun chat with him this evening, he makes me all giggly and silly and I hate myself for saying that. The word giggle is so bleh. I mean it’s a cute word but it feels wrong to say for whatever reason. It’s like when people say “hehe” in texts or whatever, it makes me feel gross even though I don’t even mind it. I think in the right context from the right person it’s fine, but I’ve never experienced that so idk. Now I’m thinking of… something. Something we watched. And the subtitles had it as “heh heh” and I’m thinking sopranos. Anyway newsflash to no one: I love him a hellllllll of a lot.
I wish I didn’t have to go to the office tomorrow. It’s so annoying. I know it’s good for me and also my manager has outright asked me to, so I kind of have to regardless, but also I’ll just focus on the fact it’s good for me to be properly out of the house and stuff. And it has perks I guess, I can have sushi for lunch, peruse the bookshop nearby and I also don’t snack when I’m at the office, I take nuts with me but I don’t eat them because I get all anxy about if people can hear me chewing or if they think I’m some kind of insatiable ogre who can’t wait til lunch or dinner. But so I just have a few bits of sushi for lunch. Although I really want to try this Vietnamese place, they have a salad that looks so bloody good, but I’ve never been and it looks like the kind you line up for like subway and that sends a barrage of anxiety through me so maybe sometime in the future. But I also tend to get more done and idk. It’s good for me. I’ll just keep telling myself that while I hate life two days a week for the foreseeable. It’s not even that bad, it is bad anxiety wise - like yesterday I didn’t go to the bathroom for over an hour from when I needed to pee because of my anxiety, I also didn’t fill up my drink bottle or get another coffee at all for the whole day. So my anxiety is bad, but maybe over time it’ll get better, I’m sure it will, I just have to suck it up in the interim.
I think I’ll stop now because I have 10 mins exactly til 8 and I need to get entirely ready for bed and post this. I needed to blowdry my hair but I spent too long in the shower and now I don’t have time so oh well. Tbh I look like utter shite anyway lately so what’s a bad hair day to go with it? I’ll just put it up. I feel disgustingly ugly lately, I always do but especially lately. Okay now I have 8 minutes night night

I’m on a girls-only grad trip with 4 long-term friends. We’ve known each other for more than 10 years and have always been very close. I considered J (22F) whom I’ve known since elementary and roomed together during college my best friend. However, I’ve noticed over the years that she doesn’t really try to understand me.
I am personally not the type to outwardly express my emotions but I always appreciate friends who notice when I am feeling down and ask about this. Not only do I feel that J is unable to pick up on these signals despite being friends for over a decade. We have never argued because I always keep my frustrations to myself and hated confrontation.
The main conflict started when I noticed that J would sarcastically complain about the travel itinerary that me and another friend put together. Throughout the most of the day, J was disgruntled about being there and often complained to the group that there was nothing to see. I personally was very excited about the trip so I would a bit hurt when she would say negative things about being there. Honestly, the museum wasn’t the best and I knew that, but it was still frustrating.
There were other things before but I won’t go into detail, just know that there was a lot of frustration built up at this point with her lack of awareness for how things may seem from my perspective. Maybe it was due to this or the stress of traveling that I snapped at her when she asked me a question.
It was during a stressful bus transfer. I wasn’t the one navigating but J was pressing me for answers even though we were as equally clueless (this was something that happened quite often during this trip). I got very annoyed, so I showed this in my response. I guess I was a bit louder than my usual talking voice so she seemed dumbfounded by this “sudden outburst” (I just uncharacteristically talked back to her). It wasn’t a full argument (I could never win against her lol) but one of my other friends tried to mediate.
We weren’t on speaking terms that day but after I processed my emotions, I went back to normal and treated her as I would normally the next day. However, I noticed that she would avoid speaking to me. When I confronted her about what was wrong, she said that she did not receive an apology and felt talked down upon when I raised my voice the other day and that she is not sure if she could get over this and how if it were anyone else, they wouldn’t get treated this way. In my perspective, I don’t think I yelled it her and thought it was a disagreement so I didn’t think an apology was necessary. Hearing this, I apologized immediately and wanted to explain why I was frustrated but she cut me off and seemingly didn’t want to hear my explanation. I was very hurt by this because we’ve been friends for so long and I thought she would know my personality better as I would not snap for no reason and have never done so before.
Right now, I’m personally not sure if we can still be close friends and need advice.

I'm sorry if this is long. To keep you somewhat in the loop I'm 27F, my mother is 53F, sperm donor is 60M, little sister is 25F.
My parents divorced when I was 2 and my little sister was an infant. In the split, our sperm donor took me and left my little sister with my mother. At first there was some kind of visitation happening due to help from social services, however with my sperm donor being a classic narcissist he managed to hide me from them, or evade visitation days claiming we were away somewhere.
My mother at the time was new to the country I grew up in (Nordics), so she didn't speak the language much nor did she know which cultures were normal or how the social service system worked. My mother moved to my home country, married my sperm donor the same year and I was born a year later. He kept her locked up at home, and if she wanted to see friends or go out he would drop her off, give her an hour or so, and pick her up again, complete control. She had no chance of learning more about anything even if she wanted to.
He raised me telling me my mother is an abusive, evil witch who would kidnap me back to her home country if I went to her house. Being a child, of course I believed this, and when she showed up at my school with my siblings so we could see each other I started scream crying. This was when I was 6 or 7. I went home and told him about this, and his response was to 'not believe in her crocodile tears'. She was heartbroken, but I was taught it was fake. If social services showed up with her at our house for visitation, I was told to pull my curtains and hide, not go near windows or make any noise. I didn't know who they were at the time, so I did what he told me to do.
Growing up I also spent a lot of time at my grandparents house since sperm donor had more important things to do (like meet strange women off the internet, engage in shady politics or harass foreign women (he's racist btw). This should've been a safe haven, but he didn't leave me there without giving them a long list of rules regarding how I was to be treated, what I was allowed to eat and what chores I was to do that day. My grandparents, despite being the sweetest people on earth, are extreme enablers and did not dare go against his word, probably in fear of me being taken away from them too.
With sperm donor being a textbook narcissist these things were normal to me. During my childhood I was extremely isolated from other people and their families, I was interrogated if I wanted to see any friends (not that I had many, I was the weirdo kid and got bullied throughout school), and I was forced into multiple different sports. If I got bored of one I had to pick a new one, I was always in at least 2 but sometimes juggled 3 different ones at the same time. I was a kid, maybe 9-10?
He was a hoarder, there were paths through the house you had to walk through cause there was so much stuff everywhere. He'd never throw anything away, and if he did, it was my toys and belongings. He occasionally cleaned up the house for guests, maybe once every few years. When the house became messy again due to his hoarding he blamed me for it and said it was because I left my toys/drawings/pencils out after using them.
There's a lot more to the story of my upbringing but these are the key points. I was emotionally and physically abused and because of that I have been NC with sperm donor for about 7 years now.
I left him when I was 13, lived at my grandparents house for a year (he thought it was because he told me to, cause he got "death threats"), got in touch with my mother (I did not know her at all at this time due to him cutting her out of my life) and at 14 I moved in with my her and little sister. I'd never had a mother figure and so I didn't know what to expect, but what I got was a essentially a friend instead of a mother. I didn't get many rules set for me at her house and so I tried to be a responsible kid and be home on time etc, I didn't want my freedom taken away again. She would hang out with me and my friends if they were over and sometimes she'd let us have a sneaky drink/smoke here and there (towards like 15/16), so to my friends she was the coolest mum. She didn't act like an adult, she unloaded her emotional problems on me, I was the mediator between her and my little sister when they fought and I made sure they communicated and resolved it. I'd listen and hold her when she cried, and give advice as best I could since I was a teenager. She couldn't hold down a job because of her emotional issues, so she relied heavily on benefits and whichever guy she was dating at the time. It wasn't a healthy environment, and all this was projected onto me and my sister.
My mother now lives in South America again and we haven't seen her since 2019, she's not made any arrangements to come back to Europe and visit. She still hasn't learned how to reflect on her behaviour and any attempts to talk to her about her unhealthy habits and behaviours are met with either tears or hostility as she sees it purely as criticism. She won't listen despite several attempts from me and my little sister, because of this we are both LC with her.
I left my home country at 19, I'm an adult now, and I can see so clearly why I'm so messed up, but I just can't let go. I've been in and out of talking therapy, psychiatrists, CBT and grief counselling since I was 17. I know the techniques, I have the tools, and I have been practicing them to get better, but I just don't. I've tried medication too and they work until they stop working, it's pointless. If anything, the more time passes the more sad and resentful I become.
All I want is acknowledgement from either of them, for them to say they were wrong, an apology and some self work, anything. But I am left without a real mother and father. I have great support, my auntie is the closest thing I have to a mother and she's really stepped up in that role, even though she doesn't have to. My boyfriend is amazing and looks after my every need. But I'm so stuck on the past, I can't get over it. I have so many mental issues because of them and I really struggle getting through this life. I know there are people who have had it way worse but it just feels so unfair.
I'm not really sure what I want to get across by posting this. No one has ever acknowledged that sperm donor is a narcissist who took my only childhood away.
Thank you for reading.

3E: Can't say even happy birthday sometimes, it doesn't feel geniune and i be afraid to that's fakeness going to be understood by my voice tone, or the idea they think our perspective about that relationship is not in that way. Sometimes i feel like i had to, it's something nice but then thought what is the point, just gonna get a fake smile... i get so nervous.
3V: When somebody giving me order-like something i freeze, "do i really want to do that" "I'm being affected right now", want to hide in a closet like a 5 years old. Or sometimes want to cry when somebody is invited to me and then after i got bored and i can't show the enough courage to go away.
3F: Took lots of selfies to be sure of my face attractiveness. When go out don't want even make my hair because i don't want people thought me as someone want attention and someone who thinks he is so gorgeous.
3L: When i try to talk despite the fear, sometimes all of my thoughts attack to my point and i cut down my talk in middle, i be like "i could have represent it better" "that was seem better in my head." "that is already so obvious, why i'm even saying that?".

Hello everyone.
Currently just completed a stay at a Motel 6/ Studio 6 combo property… Yes they’re both in one. One on each wing with the same front desk servicing both right in the center.
I had originally booked a stay for Tuesday-Sunday in a Motel 6 room with refrigeratomicrowave.. got in to check in around 3am so they checked me in right away. The next morning, I was moved to a room without refrigeratomicrowave.. somewhere somehow a mistake had been made and my reservation for that microwave/fridge room would have only been thru until Saturday… meaning I’d have to move rooms for that Saturday night stay. Exhausted, with everything going on, I just went ahead and moved Wednesday morning so to have a smooth couple days and not worry. The room was so bad. The smell of wet/dampness, masked by commercial grade scented cleaners, it was Bad, and to top it off the A/c unit didnt do much to circulate the air - upon further inspection, at a glance it was clearly dirty with dust/lint, and had rust on the condenser coils. Too tired and aware that the rooms were short, I didnt make a big deal over it, just wiped down what I could and the front desk provided me with a fan to circulate the air.
By the way they have all been A++++ all staff I have encountered. Bravo. So I dont want any of this to fall on them Or make them feel bad for it if its outside of their controls- which is usually the case in these corporate ran places.
Later on at some point I I noticed the bathroom floor was kinda always rather wet… and thought maybe the shower curtain was funky or cracked and ended up coming out into the floor… Cleaned it up, all well, then it was back not long after but not a lot, so maybe I just missed some earlier… THEN I am sitting on the toilet cutting my toenails, when I felt a cold drop of water spray across my back/neck, and again, rapidly increasing, I turned to see that the water was dripping from the brown/black spot on the ceiling directly above me, and it was hitting the lid of the tank splashing it all on the floor where I was finding the puddles.
Again still exhausted and dealing with a bunch of other stuff, plus only having 2 nights left, I didnt make a fuzz over it, likely they have to have known already…
Well I completed my stay on the Motel 6 side on Sunday, and added more but moved to the Studio 6 side, the difference is like night and day… all come with a full size fridge and kitchenette w sink/counters/storage space. No smells in this building, plus I am right next to the pool. And most notably the front desk helped me immensely again by giving me the literal first room coming from the other side, so not to have to haul all my stuff too far, and also did a seamless check in allowing me to check in to my Studio 6 4pm check in early, as soon as I checked out from Motel 6 at noon.
I did make mention about the leaky ceiling at check out, “they had scheduled maintenance and on the way”.
Oh and I am 99.99999% my neighbor at the Motel 6 side-which had connecting rooms 😄- pretty sure she was a crackwhore…. All day and night traffic coming and going as they let the door auto-slam. Then hearing dudes talking, female moaning and what sounded like rhythmic slapping as she moaned… and the unmistakeable sounds of “crack lighters” aka torches… while family guy played in the background and other people just talking casually 🤭😂🤣 They were loud enough that my phone camera mic could pick up the noises just thru the wall, and my friends and I had a blast with that on snapchat at 2am 😅
I have photos of the watemold damage and I may have saved some of the snapchats 😂
If I contact Motel 6 corporate about the leak/mold to ensure it’s addressed and fixed before which left unnattended could have potentially end in a liability claim if a future guest whon hurt ( I know not all black mold is toxic! Still causes me allergy, itchy eyes) I also worry the staff might get blamed for it, when they have all been excellent in their present job title, and noticed that the front desk staff would on occasion also take on housekeeping shifts… maybe they were just covering their breaks. 🤷‍♂️ so I do plan on commending the staff in the email as well
What would you do/think? Any similar experiences? Would it be possible to get some refund from them?

Saturday 18 May 2024
Today in Philosophy of History
Further Elaborations on the Coming Coeval Age
My essay “The Coming Coeval Age” has appeared in Isonomia Quarterly for summer 2024. Last year I contributed an essay to the initial number of the journal. As with my recent paper in the Journal of Big History, “A Complexity Ladder for Big History,” this most recent essay isn’t narrowly about philosophy of history, but there are many philosophy of history themes in it.
The journal’s interest in the theme of isonomia was my point of departure for considering the institutional structure of civilization at the largest conceivable scales. What is isonomia? There is a passage in Book III of Herodotus known as the constitutional debate in which three speakers argue for the best form of government, with these three being monarchy, oligarchy, and democracy. Here is the first of three speakers in Herodotus advocating for isonomia:

“Otanes urged that they should resign the government into the hands of the whole body of the Persians, and his words were as follows: ‘To me it seems best that no single one of us should henceforth be ruler, for that is neither pleasant nor profitable. Ye saw the insolent temper of Cambyses, to what lengths it went, and ye have had experience also of the insolence of the Magian: and how should the rule of one alone be a well-ordered thing, seeing that the monarch may do what he desires without rendering any account of his acts? Even the best of all men, if he were placed in this disposition, would be caused by it to change from his wonted disposition: for insolence is engendered in him by the good things which he possesses, and envy is implanted in man from the beginning; and having these two things, he has all vice: for he does many deeds of reckless wrong, partly moved by insolence proceeding from satiety, and partly by envy. And yet a despot at least ought to have been free from envy, seeing that he has all manner of good things. He is however naturally in just the opposite temper towards his subjects; for he grudges to the nobles that they should survive and live, but delights in the basest of citizens, and he is more ready than any other man to receive calumnies. Then of all things he is the most inconsistent; for if you express admiration of him moderately, he is offended that no very great court is paid to him, whereas if you pay court to him extravagantly, he is offended with you for being a flatterer. And the most important matter of all is that which I am about to say:—he disturbs the customs handed down from our fathers, he is a ravisher of women, and he puts men to death without trial. On the other hand the rule of many has first a name attaching to it which is the fairest of all names, that is to say “Equality”; next, the multitude does none of those things which the monarch does: offices of state are exercised by lot, and the magistrates are compelled to render account of their action: and finally all matters of deliberation are referred to the public assembly. I therefore give as my opinion that we let monarchy go and increase the power of the multitude; for in the many is contained everything’.”

The three forms of government—monarchical, oligarchical, and democratic—are a perennial theme of Greek political thought that continues to echo through the history of Western civilization. Book III of Aristotle’s Politics goes into this in some detail.
After sending my essay off to Isonomia Quarterly I realized that one of the fundamental ambiguities about the idea of isonomia—and I would have included a footnote on this if I had thought of it sooner—is the ambiguity implicit in speaking in terms of the same law. What is it that is “the same” when we speak of the same law? “The same law” could mean that every particular law would apply to every particular person, or “the same law” could mean that the totality of the law, that is, the whole body of law, applies to the totality of the population. A body of law might involve different laws that apply differently to different persons, so that the second of the two senses does not entail the first of the two senses. If you read my essay you’ll find that I argue that the Greeks understood isonomia in the latter sense, so I won’t repeat that argument or the sources I cite for it here. But the fact that we might interpret a fundamental political idea in different ways poses the question of how these fundamental ideas outlined in antiquity apply to us today, if they do apply, and how they ought to apply now and in the future.
How will these traditional ideas be interpreted in future iterations of human society that might differ quite considerably from the world that we inhabit? How are we to understand isonomia within the context of a spacefaring civilization? For that matter, how are we to understand any classical Greek political theory in the context of future changes to society? For Westerners, this is our heritage, and how this tradition adapts or is adapted to changed conditions will give shape to the ongoing tradition of Western civilization.
In my essay I suggest that, on Earth to date, the expansion of political regimes has constituted what I call synchronic isonomia, when societies are distributed synchronically, that is to say, when they interact in the present across geographical distances. In a specifically legal context, this means the iteration of a body of law across a region of space. The possibility of what Frank White calls Large-Scale Space Migration would initially constitute synchronic expansion on a scale greater than that possible on Earth, but, if continued, it would eventually cross a threshold of diachronic isonomia, that is to say, when societies are distributed diachronically over time. In a specifically legal context, again, this means the iteration of a body of law, the same law, over a period of time. The strange, seemingly paradoxical aspect of this way of thinking is that the human scale of time could be distributed over a much larger cosmological scale of time while retaining its character as distinctively human history. I will try to explain how this could come about, but first I want to point out a peculiarity of terrestrial history that we haven’t seen as a peculiarity.
We are familiar with the idea that we see the universe form a peculiar point of view because we see it from the surface of a planet. Our planetary perspective has been the focus of the Copernican revolution, which has taught us that our apparently centrality in the universe is an artifact of our limited and parochial perspective. The Copernican revolution taught us to transcend our planetary perspective and to see the universe from a non-terrestrial perspective, but there is another aspect of the Copernican revolution that we haven’t yet explored, and that is seeing history from a non-terrestrial perspective. Part of this non-terrestrial perspective is simply to understand that, just as we are not in the center of space, we are also not in the center of time. But there’s more to it than this.
Einstein’s theory of relativity has made it possible for us to see time in a new way, and this can change the way we see history. In many of my episodes I have talked about the need to address the disconnect between philosophies of time and philosophies of history. History is constructed out of time, so a radical reconceptualization of time suggests a radical reconceptualization of history. The theory of relativity is such a radical reconceptualization of time, but many of the influences of relativity and gravity upon time are usually not noticed on a terrestrial scale, and all human history to date has occurred on terrestrial scale.
We can see the effects of relativity when we look out into the cosmos and use instruments to observe cosmological distances over which relatively is relevant, and to observe bodies so dense that they change the structure of spacetime. To date, our technologies have allowed us to measure the relativity of time under the influence of acceleration and gravitation, but we may, at some point in our history, develop technologies that allow us to interact with the universe at a scale at which relativity will change our history. When this eventuality comes to pass, we will eventually be forced to notice things about our history that hadn’t previously been problematic.
Our history to date has been the simplest possible history because it has all transpired on Earth. Earth is our sole inertial frame of reference for all historical events. There are relativistic effects within this inertial frame of reference, but they can only be detected by instruments of extreme precision because the influence of relativity lies below the threshold of human perception. For example, every planet drags its spacetime around with it as it rotates, which is known as frame-dragging. And even the relatively crude instruments of the nineteenth century could detect the perihelion precession of Mercury, which is an observable relativistic perturbation of the orbit of Mercury. This was first observed and noted to diverge from Newtonian predictions in 1859. These relativistic effects are, however, well below the threshold of impacting human history.
Technologies could change this. Relativistic space travel would be such a technology. This has been made famous by the so-called “twins paradox.” The twins paradox is invoked with greatest effect by the use of individuals to illustrate the difference between two clocks in different inertial frames of reference—usually a set of twins. This was called a paradox because it was initially thought to be impossible. We also saw this use of individuals to demonstrate the poignancy of time dilation in the film Interstellar. Here it is a father and daughter who are separated, with the father experiencing an accelerated inertial frame of reference, so that he returns, still a young man, to find his daughter dying as an old woman. This is great for drama, but this isn’t how any relativistic space settlement effort is going to play out, unless someone purposefully arranges something like this as a stunt.
Let us consider a simple example of what is more likely to occur. Suppose a settlement on another world established by several thousands of individuals, maybe tens or hundreds of thousands, like a small city, who travel to another planetary system, tens or hundreds or thousands of light years from Earth. The passengers on the starship in their accelerated inertial framework will experience time dilation, and they will preserve the cultural milieu of Earth has it was upon their launch. When they establish their settlement, there will be two human histories that bifurcate at the point in time when the interstellar settlement initiative was inaugurated.
However, the larger population on Earth will continue to drive cultural evolution at a far faster rate than in the settlement, while, in the settlement, human beings will be subjected to radically different selection pressures than prevailed on Earth, and they will also be a small community likely to retain the cultural milieu they possessed when they left Earth. We would then have two human histories, offset in time by the discontinuity of the relativistic travel time from Earth to the location of the settlement. For example, if the Earth and the settlement are a hundred light years apart, there would be a temporal discontinuity of a century. Life would go on at Earth, and a century later things would be different, but a century later the settlement would just be founded on the basis of Earth’s culture of a century before. This is a kind of historical complexity that we do not have today, but which could happen in the future.
Now imagine not one settlement, but a hundred or a thousand such settlements, each representing a temporal discontinuity from Earth’s history. A hundred settlements of ten thousand persons each would be an effort involving only a million persons, which is a very small proportion of the total human population; Earth wouldn’t even notice the absence of a million persons. Further, imagine travel among these settlements by relativistic spacecraft, and then the history of those who travel between settlements will be even more complex. In this context, depending upon the location of settlements relative to each other, and the date at which the settlement initiative was undertaken, an individual could effectively time travel into the past by traveling outward from Earth to a settlement that preserves the historical milieu at Earth at the time of its departure. You could not return to Earth without finding yourself accelerated into the future, but you could travel further outward to a settlement established from earlier in Earth’s history.
We get a similar, if slower result, if we substitute sub-relativistic spacecraft in conjunction with artificially induced torpor or hibernation—space arks, if you will. A slow boat to the stars would likewise preserve the culture of Earth from the time of its departure, with settlers being roused and resuming their lives once they reached the end of their journey, effectively cut off from a return to their familiar terrestrial milieu, but they would be able to visit other historical peer milieux if they take another slow boat further out into the cosmos.
The kind of distributed temporality that I am describing would achieve its greatest extent, and its greatest historical complexity, in the case of interstellar expansion. However, something similar could be realized on Earth at a smaller scale. Imagine a large scale hibernation project on Earth, such that about 10,000 persons are involved, enough so that there could be a rotating crew of a dozen or so that stays awake to tend the rest to make sure this continues to operate as intended. At some appointed time in the future, the whole community could be brought out of their hibernation and they would bring with them the culture of Earth from their date when they entered into hibernation, now displaced into the future. This would make it possible for temporally distributed communities to appear on Earth, without travel to other worlds or the use of relativistic technology. There are several science fiction stories with something like this as their approximate premise.
Whether through relativistic travel or human hibernation, historical communities could be preserved from all eras into some indefinite future, and in that indefinite future, these distinct historical communities would be synchronically present. This is what I call coevalism, when all ages of history are equally accessible. The idea of coevalism occurred to me many years ago, and not in connection with relativistic travel; I was thinking about the increasing fidelity of recording technologies. Written language is the most rudimentary form of recording technology, and is allows us the most rudimentary form of time travel, by being able to share the thoughts of those long dead. Since the industrial revolution, technologies have become much more sophisticated, with photographs, film, and sound recordings, with always-increasing fidelity to the original.
The rapid growth of computer technology and telecommunications in recent decades has made us aware that, if this arc of technological development continues, we will have nearly-perfect fidelity recordings. But in addition to recordings, we could generate states-of-affairs that never existed in fact, as in fantasy and science fiction, or we could generate the milieux of the past, both with a degree of fidelity equal to that of the present. Computers are already sufficiently sophisticated to generate simple films, and the reconstruction of past milieux can be done without computers as well.
In the original Westworld film on 1973, a past milieu was re-created using robots. Robotics hasn’t yet achieved this level of realism, but we could do this today with human actors, and we may yet do so someday with robots. In fact, we do this in a limited way. Theme parks re-create fantasy worlds populated with actors who make fantasy characters come to life. So coevalism can be realized at smaller scales than sparefaring civilizations, but it would be in a spacefaring civilizations with relativistic space travel in which the possibilities of coevalism would come to their fullest expression, and in which history would achieve its greatest complexity.
History is already extraordinarily complex, but I said earlier than our terrestrial history is the simplest history possible given the spacetime structure of the universe. It is when we begin distributing our civilization in cosmological time that historical complexity will cease to be a single linear continuum. The possibilities of spacefaring histories will be both facilitated and limited by our technology. These possibilities will also be facilitated and limited by the actual spacetime structure of the universe, which is a function of the distribution of matter in the universe. Just as terrestrial history has been shaped by oceans, mountain ranges, and rivers, cosmological history is shaped by stars, gravitation, and expansion, and human history that takes place within this cosmological context will be shaped by these forces. The point I want to make is that, while human history is complex, we are not necessarily limited by the complexity of the single inertial frame of reference of our homeworld.
When multiple inertial frames of reference are available to us, and travel between then is possible, the possible structures of history will dramatically expand, and with these possibilities human experience will dramatically expand, and I hope you can see how this can give a whole new meaning to the idea of speculative philosophy of history. In the conventional distinction between analytical philosophy of history and substantive philosophy of history, analytical philosophy of history is, according to Danto, “…philosophy applied to the special conceptual problems which arise out of the practice of history,” while substantive philosophy of history is a philosophical account of the historical process itself. This same distinction has also been called the distinction between critical and speculative philosophy of history by William Dray, and the distinction between formal and material philosophy of history by Maurice Mandelbaum. Here I emphasize speculative philosophy of history as that which reflects uon the actual historical process.
In addition to the speculative philosophy of history that considers the historical process, we can also imagine a speculative philosophy of history that concerns itself with the implications of speculative states-of-affairs upon history yet to come—historical processes not yet realized, but which may be realized someday. Many of the speculative states-of-affairs I can imagine involve human exploration and expansion into the cosmos. The speculative states-of-affairs we might encounter in the wider universe could involve scientific discoveries not yet made and technologies not yet constructed, the histories of life on other worlds and the histories of alien civilizations, as well as the histories that we will create for ourselves. It’s a big universe, and we might discover any number of unlikely or unprecedented existents.
In my episode on a complexity ladder for big history I argued that there may be distinctive emergents from historical knowledge, that is to say, the quantitative growth of historical knowledge may pass a threshold to become a qualitative change in historical understanding. What kind of emergents could these be? For example, an increase in the knowledge of our own history can change our understanding of ourselves. We are seeing this with the use of the genetic record to reconstruct the sequence by which human beings distributed themselves across Earth. In this way, epistemic emergents reshape our past and our understanding of ourselves.
In addition to these emergents from knowledge of our past, there may yet come emergents that arise from a temporally distributed civilization and the advent of coevalism. A temporally distributed civilization could also give rise to emergents in historical knowledge. The dawning realization of epistemic emergents yet to come in the future will shape our conception of what we can become (in contradistinction to increased knowledge of the past shaping what we are), reshaping our future, and we will need these epistemic emergents from a history of a greater order of complexity so as to understand the more complex world coming into being, and which our descendants will inhabit. Without these epistemic emergents we would not be able to understand the more complex world arising out of these novel technologies and the world they will bring into being. The future of philosophy of history has never been brighter, as we see that it will come to grappled with ever-larger and more complex problems.

Video Presentation

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ETA: I'm sorry this is such a long post.
I'm 27F, my mother is 53F, sperm donor is 60M, little sister is 25F.
My parents divorced when I was 2 and my little sister was an infant. In the split, our sperm donor took me and left my little sister with my mother. At first there was some kind of visitation happening due to help from social services, however with my sperm donor being a classic narcissist he managed to hide me from them, or evade visitation days claiming we were away somewhere.
My mother at the time was new to the country I grew up in (Nordics), so she didn't speak the language much nor did she know which cultures were normal or how the social service system worked. My mother moved to my home country, married my sperm donor the same year and I was born a year later. He kept her locked up at home, and if she wanted to see friends or go out he would drop her off, give her an hour or so, and pick her up again, complete control. She had no chance of learning more about anything even if she wanted to.
He raised me telling me my mother is an abusive, evil witch who would kidnap me back to her home country if I went to her house. Being a child, of course I believed this, and when she showed up at my school with my siblings so we could see each other I started scream crying. This was when I was 6 or 7. I went home and told him about this, and his response was to 'not believe in her crocodile tears'. She was heartbroken, but I was taught it was fake. If social services showed up with her at our house for visitation, I was told to pull my curtains and hide, not go near windows or make any noise. I didn't know who they were at the time, so I did what he told me to do.
Growing up I also spent a lot of time at my grandparents house since sperm donor had more important things to do (like meet strange women off the internet, engage in shady politics or harass foreign women (he's racist btw). This should've been a safe haven, but he didn't leave me there without giving them a long list of rules regarding how I was to be treated, what I was allowed to eat and what chores I was to do that day. My grandparents, despite being the sweetest people on earth, are extreme enablers and did not dare go against his word, probably in fear of me being taken away from them too.
With sperm donor being a textbook narcissist these things were normal to me. During my childhood I was extremely isolated from other people and their families, I was interrogated if I wanted to see any friends (not that I had many, I was the weirdo kid and got bullied throughout school), and I was forced into multiple different sports. If I got bored of one I had to pick a new one, I was always in at least 2 but sometimes juggled 3 different ones at the same time. I was a kid, maybe 9-10?
He was a hoarder, there were paths through the house you had to walk through cause there was so much stuff everywhere. He'd never throw anything away, and if he did, it was my toys and belongings. He occasionally cleaned up the house for guests, maybe once every few years. When the house became messy again due to his hoarding he blamed me for it and said it was because I left my toys/drawings/pencils out after using them.
There's a lot more to the story of my upbringing but these are the key points. I was emotionally and physically abused and because of that I have been NC with sperm donor for about 7 years now.
I left him when I was 13, lived at my grandparents house for a year (he thought it was because he told me to, cause he got "death threats"), got in touch with my mother (I did not know her at all at this time due to him cutting her out of my life) and at 14 I moved in with my her and little sister. I'd never had a mother figure and so I didn't know what to expect, but what I got was a essentially a friend instead of a mother. I didn't get many rules set for me at her house and so I tried to be a responsible kid and be home on time etc, I didn't want my freedom taken away again. She would hang out with me and my friends if they were over and sometimes she'd let us have a sneaky drink/smoke here and there (towards like 15/16), so to my friends she was the coolest mum. She didn't act like an adult, she unloaded her emotional problems on me, I was the mediator between her and my little sister when they fought and I made sure they communicated and resolved it. I'd listen and hold her when she cried, and give advice as best I could since I was a teenager. She couldn't hold down a job because of her emotional issues, so she relied heavily on benefits and whichever guy she was dating at the time. It wasn't a healthy environment, and all this was projected onto me and my sister.
My mother now lives in South America again and we haven't seen her since 2019, she's not made any arrangements to come back to Europe and visit. She still hasn't learned how to reflect on her behaviour and any attempts to talk to her about her unhealthy habits and behaviours are met with either tears or hostility as she sees it purely as criticism. She won't listen despite several attempts from me and my little sister, because of this we are both LC with her.
I left my home country at 19, I'm an adult now, and I can see so clearly why I'm so messed up, but I just can't let go. I've been in and out of talking therapy, psychiatrists, CBT and grief counselling since I was 17. I know the techniques, I have the tools, and I have been practicing them to get better, but I just don't. I've tried medication too and they work until they stop working, it's pointless. If anything, the more time passes the more sad and resentful I become.
All I want is acknowledgement from either of them, for them to say they were wrong, an apology and some self work, anything. But I am left without a real mother and father. I have great support, my auntie is the closest thing I have to a mother and she's really stepped up in that role, even though she doesn't have to. My boyfriend is amazing and looks after my every need. But I'm so stuck on the past, I can't get over it. I have so many mental issues because of them and I really struggle getting through this life. I know there are people who have had it way worse but it just feels so unfair.
I'm not really sure what I want to get across by posting this. No one has ever acknowledged that sperm donor is a narcissist who took my only childhood away. Despite everything I have now, I feel so lost and alone. No one around me can relate. My little sister didn't grow up with him but she tries to understand. I guess I just want someone to tell me I'm not wrong, that all this did happen, that I was neglected time and time again.
Thank you for reading all of this.