I hope this letter finds you well. To begin, I was drawn to this topic through social media posts that shared dozens of records detailing the abuse and deaths of hundreds of children in these therapy programs. I have often wondered, how can these programs be allowed to cause this amount of trauma to teens and children? This inspired me to look deeper into the troubled teen industry and understand why paid “caregivers” have put so many in danger. If we want to protect the wellbeing of these teens, we must find a solution to regulating these industries. Without increased laws and regulations we continue to place America’s children into potential death traps. Now what is a wilderness therapy program? Wilderness therapy programs, on the surface, seem like a promising solution for troubled teens, offering a blend of nature immersion and psychiatric support. However, the roots of the troubled teen industry date back to the 1970s, with reports of abuse surfacing early on. Shockingly, despite decades of outcry and documentation of fatalities, political inertia persists, and federal oversight remains lacking. It is understandable that parents want their children to be happy, respectful, and well-mannered. However, in an attempt to do what is right for their struggling child, parents may turn to the troubled teen industry. Currently, according to the American Bar Association, there are thousands of teenagers in these programs within the U.S, programs that often induce trauma and abuse, even causing the deaths of their children. So, why do parents continue to put their children into these programs? Is the fear of losing the “perfect” family leading parents to enrolling their children into these troubled teens’ wilderness programs? So why do parents enroll their children in these awful facilities? Simple answer: manipulation. The troubled teen industry (TTI) often manipulates parents through a series of insidious tactics. For instance, leveraging fear by exaggerating the risks associated with a child's behavior and creating a sense of imminent danger. Isolation tactics further reinforce this urgency, convincing parents that the facility is their sole recourse. These industries hire workers framed as “education consultants” that utilize high-pressure sales strategies to exploit parental anxiety, and present their TTI program as the only viable option. In an article by USAtoday, reporters held interviews of parents and teens who experienced a TTI program at Evoke, a Utah facility. "I was just an anxious mom. I loved (Katelyn) to death," Tessie, Katelyn’s mom, says, "I was so desperate and desperately wanting to save my child from herself" (USAtoday). Programs offer promises of rapid transformation and they prey on parental desperation for quick, easy fixes. Emotional manipulation adds another layer, playing on a parents guilt and insecurity. By showcasing selective success stories and controlling information flow, they obscure potential risks and alternatives. Stigmatizing the child's behavior further pressures parents into compliance, painting their facility as the sole refuge from societal judgment. "’[Evoke] just made it seem like (she was) such a rotten kid and that she couldn't come home after the wilderness program,’ Tessie says, instead [Evoke suggested] Katelyn go to an aftercare program” (USAtoday). In this web of manipulation, parents often find themselves coerced into decisions they later regret, unaware of the nuanced realities obscured by these tactics. In an article from the “Cafemoms” blog titled My Daughter Was a Victim of the 'Troubled Teen' Industry & It Haunts Me to This Day, a mother recounts her perspective of the tactics used by Island View (IV) treatment center to send her sixteen year old daughter to their facilities. “We trusted the [education consultant] when he said IV was the best program in the country and the best fit for Colleen. What the [education consultant] didn’t tell us was that the reason so many IV grads did so well after graduation is because nearly all of them went straight from IV to another residential treatment”(Cafemoms). Despite this, there is still hope for change. Imprint News wrote an article that focused on recent protests and youth advocates who were pushing congress to introduce new laws. Specifically, they discussed the Stop Institutional Child Abuse Act. A main advocacy group aiming at these lawmakers is Breaking Code Silence, a group dedicated to advocating for young people who had experienced harm in a youth treatment center (Imprint News). Their main goal is to pass a Bill of Rights for all children in youth treatment centers (Imprint News). The article also mentions that Breaking Code Silence wants children to have guaranteed protection from physical restraint and monitored phone calls. They further require that children are provided with all the basic necessities (Imprint News). Paris Hilton, a well-known celebrity, discussed in a Washington post article when she was 16 years old when she was taken from her home by two men. This was a result of her parents signing her up for a teen wilderness program (Hilton). Hilton describes that she was beaten and malnourished throughout her time at a Utah Facility. In October 2021, she partnered with Breaking Code Silence and pushed for a reform that was signed into law last April (Hilton). In Utah, it is now mandatory for treatment centers to document any time that staff used physical restraint (Hilton). Immediately following they have to submit these reports to the Utah Office of Licensing (Hilton). It also prohibits programs from sedating residents or using mechanical restraints, such as handcuffs and chains (Hilton). Therefore, this proves that reforms can be implemented and that it is important to continue the fight for more. Without regulations these programs can run rampant and place hundreds of children in danger. Continuing to protest, collaborate with government officials, and raise awareness can, and will, eventually stop the persistence of these programs. Enforcing reports and proper care through the law is the only way to give teens struggling with mental illnesses in these programs a fighting chance to recover. On the other hand, supporters of the troubled teen industry have used studies and research to prove the effectiveness of these programs, one example being RedCliff Ascent. RedCliff Ascent is a wilderness therapy program that claims the effectiveness of wilderness therapy. In 2005, this company hired a researcher to study families and adolescents 2 years after the program. The results found that over 90% of adolescents found wilderness therapy as effective and 83% of adolescents were doing better. In another study by Dr. Steve Aldana, it was found that 91.4% of children experienced clinically significant improvement six months post program. The counter argument presented by RedCliff Ascent is not only biased as the research was initiated from a wilderness therapy company, but they do not provide a sample size. This is important because when making conclusive statements such as “Over 90% of adolescents contacted perceived wilderness therapy as effective” they could be talking about six out of seven children or two hundred out of two hundred twenty (RedCliff Ascent). Through further research, the same results can be presented without the use of wilderness therapy. An article by the American Psychology Association (APA) titled “Better options for troubled teens” presents a series of studies and programs that was created to help adolescents. These programs focus on community-based activities, activities to help connect teenagers with their parents, and activities that align with the teens interests. This includes computer labs, dance studios, and machine shops. These programs have found significant success in decreasing the amount of juvenile offenders from 50% to 4% in an area of Connecticut (APA). It did this by helping teens take accountability and understand their actions. It utilized role play, writing assignments, and guided discussions between the teens. Overall, the troubled teen industry has caused abuse, trauma, and death to many children across the United States. It is a trap for children and a trick for desperate parents. Through the personal stories from teens and parents, reports of mistreatment, and protests it can easily be seen the impact and the importance of preventing this industry from expanding, instead increasing regulations and transparency to protect America’s children. To keep these children safe it is imperative that everyone works together to enact legislation. Your support matters to keep America’s children protected.
Sincerely, A high school student trying to make positive change
Works Cited Brennan, Caleb, et al. “Youth Advocates Again Push Congress to Crack Down on ‘Troubled Teen’ Industry.” The Imprint, 19 Aug. 2022, Date Accessed Mar. 2 imprintnews.org/top-stories/youth-advocates-congress-troubled-teen-industry/67243.
DeAngelis, Tori. “Better Options for Troubled Teens.” https://www.apa.org, www.apa.org/monito2011/12/troubled-teens. Accessed Feb. 19
Hilton, Paris. “America’s ‘Troubled Teen Industry’ Needs Reform so Kids Can Avoid the Abuse I Endured.” Washington Post, 22 Oct. 2021, Date Accessed Feb. 5 www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/10/18/paris-hilton-child-care-facilities-a Buse-reform.
Krebs, Catherine E. Five Facts About the Troubled Teen Industry. 22 Oct. 2021 Date Accessed Apr. 23 www.americanbar.org/groups/litigation/resources/newsletters/childrens-rights/five-facts-about-troubled-teen-industry.
Moniuszko, Sara M. “Wilderness therapy was supposed to help these ‘troubled teens.’ It traumatized them instead.” UsaToday, 8 Dec. 2022, Date Accessed Apr. 15 www.usatoday.com/in-depth/life/health-wellness/2022/12/08/wilderness-therapy-troubled-teen-industry/9890694002.
Parenting, baby names, celebrities, and royal news CafeMom.com. 14 Oct. 2022, Date Accessed Apr. 19 https://cafemom.com/parenting/troubled-teen-industry-island-view
RedCliff Ascent. “Does Wilderness Therapy Work?” Wilderness Therapy for Teens Needing Mental Health Treatment RedCliff Ascent, 10 Jan. 2023, Date Acessed Feb. 21 www.redcliffascent.com/wilderness-therapy-program/does-wilderness-therapy-work

Judge Patrick J. Schiltz:
“It’s surprising how many otherwise competent attorneys ‘punt’ at the sentencing hearing.”
Federal Judge Robert N. Scola:
Judge Scola suggested that lawyers take a page out of the book from our death penalty colleagues and advised,
“Don’t wait to think about sentencing advocacy,” since 99 percent of federal criminal clients will be facing sentencing, start preparing the case for sentencing early on.
Hello, and thank you for tuning into my series, INDICTED AND FACING PRISON: NOW WHAT?
My name is Marc Blatstein. In 2006, I was Indicted, pleaded guilty to a felony, and lost my medical license. To call this a surreal experience is an understatement.

My goal in this series is to provide you with the crucial information you’ll need to survive and navigate these times. I’ll cover a new topic daily so you can move forward with Knowledge, Preparation, and Confidence.

Federal Judge Scola speaks from experience, and this series will highlight what you need to do while advocating for yourself.

Should you have questions, please do not hesitate to call and consider engaging my services at 240.888.7778—this is your life.

Whether you are a COO, CEO, Physician, Lawyer, politician, or anybody else, your decisions today will determine your future.

THERE IS A DOJ-HHS-OIG-OPM WHITE-COLLAR TASK FORCE, and once they're in a hunt with your name...

I will cover the do's, Don'ts, and what-ifs in this series. No one can promise that:
· I know the judge, don't worry.
· There's no rush to prepare - after you've heard that the Feds are asking questions.
· Trials: 0.2% win, you just got home – still with your world shattered
· At sentencing are those who Plea and have lost at Trial
· What can you do to defend yourself? Learn and follow…

If you're already at this point and don’t have the time to wait for my future videos, call me, and we can discuss your situation one-on-one. Once again, my number is 240.888.7778.

~Stages~
Indictment
Arraignment
· Release on personal recognizance.
· Bail or Bond, You’re on Pretrial Supervision; follow the rules eg. No Witness Tampering).
· Remanded, you go directly to jail.
Plea or Trial: Your Defense
· A Well Written Personal Narrative (this is your BRAND, Story, or Autobiography).
o Why? Because the DOJ has gifted you their Story of you: Your Indictment – America Most Wanted
· Release Plan: your judge and other STAKEHOLDERS will want to know your future plans.
Trial Win, Go Home
Trial Lose and Plea
· Pre Trial-Supervision
· Personal Recognizance
· Remanded
Presentence Interview/Investigation Preparation,
· Your Personal NARRATIVE,
· Release Plan,
· Allocution Practiced
The Probation Officer who writes your Presentence Report- Your Advocate?
· They’re overworked and have no time.
· Getting all your files to them one week early, Comprehensive and Organized, may be appreciated.
Sentencing.
· Your Personal NARRATIVE and Release Plan, if attached to your PSR, is read by the Judge and could affect your Sentence.
· Allocution Practiced is your conversation with your Judge.
Sentence options.
· Prison, Halfway House, Home Confinement, Diversion sentencing, or a Combination.
· if you violate any arbitrary rules - it's possibly back to prison.
Probation Supervised Release.
· and then you're mostly done, except for your Felony.
· You’re still under the BOP Rules.
· You're at the mercy of your PO.
· Restitution or not, they will want you to work, volunteer, or care for a relative – but doing nothing may not work.
· No Narrative as part of your PSR; then all they will read about you is from your Indictment and BOP File.

To engage my services or to have your concerns answered, Call me Today: 240.888.7778. This is my Cell, and I personally answer and return all calls. You can also get additional information on my website @: PPRSUS.com
Physician Presentence Report Service, LLC

First / Patreon (Read 5 Chapters Ahead)

AKA: Ain’t Nothing but a Horndog
–
Private Owens let out another tired sigh as he sat there, his head held in his hands. After the incident with Petra, he’d been forcibly confined to his room, pending further disciplinary action. It didn’t take a genius to figure out exactly how he was going to be disciplined; at best, he figured he’d be getting a court martial. At worst, they’d probably just throw him out the airlock or something.
Harsh, to be sure, but if he’d actually succeeded in inadvertently costing humanity their spot as a central player on the galactic stage, then no punishment was truly out of the question. Hell, Major Barnes had talked about having him drawn and quartered, and if he truly had fucked up that monumentally bad, then it wasn’t even out of the question.
“Way to go, idiot…” Owens muttered to himself. “All this because you couldn’t stay away from the booze or keep it in your pants for a night…”
He let out yet another sigh of despondency, bringing a hand up to brush through his auburn-colored hair. He’d just had it cut short, which was a good thing, because it meant that he’d actually look presentable at his soon-to-be funeral.
Assuming Major Barnes let him keep his head, of course.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the door to his quarters opened. Owens looked up, and was not surprised to see Major Barnes and Captain Johnson standing there. Somehow, they looked even more imposing than usual, which was odd given that Major Barnes was from Texas and built like the bulls he used to ride, while Captain Johnson was a former MMA fighter.
That was to say that if there were any two people the higher-ups would have sent to beat him to death with their bare hands, it’d be these two, to say nothing of the fact that they’d probably outright requested it given what he’d done.
Assuming they weren’t about to lead him to Captain Ulfur or something, of course. Couldn’t exactly discount that as a possibility, either.
“Alright, on your feet,” Major Barnes announced.
Private Owens blinked. “Sir?”
“I said, on your feet. Are you going to make me repeat myself again?”
“N-no, Sir.” Owens scrambled to his feet. He stood there at attention, doing his best not to start sweating bullets as Major Barnes leaned in to examine him, one hand on his chin.
“Hm…”
“Sir?”
The two of them locked eyes, Barnes’ set of brown staring into Owens’ green. And despite his best efforts, Owens couldn’t help but begin sweating then and there. Captain Johnson shifted a bit out of the corner of his eye, but Owens didn’t dare look over to him; experience had taught him that, much like a T-Rex, the Major’s vision was based on movement. This wasn’t to imply that he could only see things when they moved, but rather that moving was a good way to draw attention to oneself, in the same way that the squeaky wheel tended to get the grease.
To put it simply: predators enjoy it greatly when their prey tries to struggle. And at this moment in time, Owens was nothing if not the juiciest piece of prey available to his commanding officers on the whole station.
The seconds ticked by. Owens dared not count them, both because he didn’t want to press his luck and because he dreaded finding out how short eternity actually was. Finally, after those few agonizingly slow seconds passed, Major Barnes took a step back and let his hand fall from his chin, then clasped his arms behind his back.
“You have no idea how fucking lucky you are, Marine.”
Owens stiffened. “Sir?”
Major Barnes let out a tired sigh, then turned to Captain Johnson. “Smoking is still banned on this station, right?”
“It is outside of the dedicated smoking zones,” Johnson replied. “It upsets the Vuks’ sense of smell.”
“Damn… what about drinking?”
“Allowable outside of working hours, but I’d like to remind you that alcohol is what got us into this mess in the first place.”
“Ah, yes.” Major Barnes turned back towards Owens, his eyes narrowing. “Now, Private – perhaps you’d care to answer a question for me?”
“O-of course, Sir,” Owens stammered out.
“What in the hell made you think Jack Daniels was your friend?”
Owens felt a chill go down his spine. “Uh, Sir?”
“Stop phrasing my title like a question, please. Answer the question.”
Owens hesitated. Thankfully, Captain Johnson came to his rescue.
“Actually, if I remember right, the bartender said he was ordering Captain Morgan and tequila.”
Barnes let out a low whistle. “Damn, for real? What were you thinking, Private? You know rum and tequila don’t mix.”
“Apparently, he hasn’t heard how racist Captain Morgan is – everyone knows the Captain hates Mexicans.”
“U-um…” Private Owens said. “...Is this you both smoking me out?”
“Of course not, Private,” Major Barnes instantly replied. “After all, we’re not in a smoking area, remember?”
Private Owens wasn’t sure if the Major was trying to be dangerously sarcastic or if that was a genuine attempt at levity. In either case, he thought it best to stay silent. Finally, after a few more seconds had passed, Major Barnes shook his head.
“I mentioned earlier that you were lucky,” he said. “Hell, you’re probably the luckiest man alive. Possibly the luckiest man in history. Do you know why that is?”
“Because I’m not dead yet?”
“Partially, but no. No, you’re the luckiest man alive because, in spite of you making a drunken ass of yourself and banging their head diplomat, the Vuk voted to allow us into the Council, after all.”
Private Owens couldn’t help but sputter in surprise at that news. He took a moment to recover, then turned back towards the Major, surprise etched across his face. “You’re serious?” After a moment, he added, “Sir?”
“Oh, I’m very serious,” Major Barnes confirmed with a nod. “See how lucky you are, Private? Not only did you get laid, but you also somehow didn’t completely fuck everything up for our entire species, which means that I very unfortunately don’t get to space you.”
Private Owens hesitated. Next to him, Captain Johnson crossed his arms. “Breathe, Private. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Owens did as he was told, sucking in a deep breath of air before exhaling it. Once he had taken a breath to calm himself, he opened his eyes again, once more staring at Major Barnes.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, Sir… what happens now?”
“Good question,” Barnes replied. “Well, given that you might have actually done all of humanity a huge solid by sleeping with Petra, there’s not really much I can do to actually punish you. I mean, I could, but that’d reflect pretty badly on me, and if there’s one thing I care about, it’s my service record.”
“Immaculate service record,” Captain Johnson amended. “Downright radiant, really.”
“Exactly. And it’d really suck to mar it by having to write a young Marine for something like this, especially since it’s very possible that the only reason Petra voted yes was because the sex was so good.”
Private Barnes flushed red. “U-um… thanks, Sir. I think.”
“Don’t be so modest, Private – you know women talk. Well, word’s apparently gotten around, and now a fair few of the Vuk women are very curious about how the human mouth works. But that’s neither here nor there; the point is, we’re at a bit of an impasse. I can’t exactly smoke you for this, even though I really want to. But at the same time, I can’t just let you off the hook, either.”
“So… what do you plan to do with me, Sir?”
Major Barnes cracked a wide, wicked-looking grin. A chill went down Owens’ spine at the sight of it.
“Why, it’s simple, Private,” Barnes began, “in this situation, I think it only fitting that I throw you to the wolves… or, in this case, the devil dogs.”
Owens didn’t even have time to beg for mercy before Captain Johnson grabbed him and muscled him out the door, over to the barracks where the rest of his platoon was staying.
–
It wasn’t a surprise to Owens when they opened the door to the barracks and roughly shoved him inside, then closed it back up and locked it. He scrabbled at the door in vain for a moment before pausing and turning around.
His entire platoon was there, because of course they were.
Owens froze at the sight of them. Getting smoked by the Major and the Captain was bad enough, but that was nothing compared to the absolute fucking firestorm that was headed his way from the rest of the platoon. Slowly, he raised a hand.
“Uh, hey, guys,” he offered.
For a moment, nobody said or did anything. It was deathly silent in the barracks. But then, it happened.
Someone started the slow clap.
It began as just one person, but rapidly grew to two, and then three, and then all of a sudden, they were all doing it. And as they clapped, they were shouting at him, or rather, they were chanting – one simple word, which ordinarily wouldn’t have had much meaning, but with the way they were saying it, Owens just knew it was going to haunt him until he was discharged.
And that word was…
“Horn-Dog! Horn-Dog! Horn-Dog!”
Owens cringed as the word reached his ears. Unfortunately, that did nothing to actually block it out, and it only got worse when everyone in the platoon came up, still chanting, and took turns slapping him on the back.
And, naturally, the questions followed shortly thereafter.
“What was it like?”
“Was it as good as she’s making it sound?”
“Are you really that good with your tongue?”
“What’s it like being an actual furry?”
“Guys!” Owens finally blurted out, having had enough. “Look, I’ve… I’ve had a bit of a long day, you know? So can I at least take a seat before you start bombarding me with questions?”
The platoon fell silent at that. Owens breathed a sigh of relief, then began to stride through them; they parted like the Red Sea as he walked.
“Carefully,” one of them said, “he’s a hero.”
Owens flipped that guy off without even looking back. Finally, he reached his bunk and took a seat on it, then breathed a sigh of relief.
And the moment he was settled, the platoon was surrounding him once more, eager for him to answer their questions. Owens took a breath.
“Let me get one thing perfectly straight,” he said, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Dude, come the fuck on,” one of the men, Corporal Ramirez, protested. “You realize that she’s been telling her people about it, right?”
“For real, man,” Sergeant Douglas agreed with a nod. “Some of the Vuk females have been eye-fucking us ever since.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious. Apparently, that tongue do be putting in the work.”
Owens’ brow furrowed. “That’s nasty, dude.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You did it, not me! I’m just reporting some of the shit that’s been happening ever since you fucking gave Lassie the ol’ in-out.”
“First of all, don’t talk about her that way,” Owens warned. “I get that you’re just joking, but she’s still a diplomat, as well as the reason we’re even having this conversation right now. And not in that way!” He hurriedly added when he saw several of the men about to say something. “She was the deciding vote. If it weren’t for her coming through for us, we’d have been fucked.”
Corporal Ramirez hesitated, but only for a moment. “I mean-”
“Dude, don’t.”
“I’m just saying-”
“I am seriously begging you not to say it.”
Ramirez paused, but eventually, his baser instincts won out. “...She definitely did come through for us, and at least one of us was definitely fucked.”
Owens closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath before opening them again. “...Just for that, I’m not gonna tell you all what it was like.”
“Dude, come on,” Sergeant Douglas protested. “You’re really gonna do us like this? You’re gonna just fucking Captain Kirk it up and then refuse to talk about it?”
“Yes, I-” Owens paused. “...Captain Kirk?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Hey, you’re the first human to actually fuck an alien, at least as far as anyone knows. It fits.”
“No, no, I’m not complaining, it’s just… I can’t be Shepard?”
“The fuck you talking about? You’re no Shepherd, that’s for sure.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you couldn’t keep the wolf away.” Owens glared at him and Douglas just rolled his eyes. “Come on, Horndog, you’re just teeing these things up for me at this point. I can go all night.”
“Shame he couldn’t,” Ramirez added. “Or did he only stop because he got caught?”
“That’s a fair question, actually. Horndog, be honest – if you hadn’t been caught, would there have been another round?”
“How many rounds were there, anyway?” one of the other Marines asked.
“Do you think she’d have wanted breakfast afterwards?” another added. “Makes me wonder… do you think the Vuk prefer waffles, or pancakes?”
“I dunno, man. They seem pretty partial to creampies, if you ask me.”
“Guys!” Owens shouted, cutting them all off. He grit his teeth for a moment, but then let out another exhale. “...It probably goes without saying, but I am very, very, ridiculously tired right now. I’m very thirsty and I haven’t had anything to eat in a long-ass time.”
Ramirez opened his mouth to say something.
“Ramirez, if you say what I know you’re going to say, I will seriously fucking Code Red you by myself.”
Ramirez closed his mouth and said nothing.
Owens let out yet another exhale. “Look, fellas – let me just get some sleep, and then I’ll tell you as much as I can about it without it being disrespectful to her. Okay?”
“Sure, man, whatever you say,” Douglas offered.
“Thanks, guys.”
With that, Owens laid down in his bunk and closed his eyes, doing his best to enjoy the silence.
It lasted for all of five seconds before someone broke it.
“So, was this technically bestiality?”
Owens threw a blind punch, and just like that, the entire barracks erupted into chaos.

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard, for the help with writing this story.

My son is autistic and in kindergarten. He is in a functional learning class for special needs children in the local public elementary school. There are 2 other kindergarteners in there. The school has a K graduation the last day of school.
I asked his teacher if the kindergarten graduation was still the last day and she told me the principal said that the functional class will have a separate Kindergarten graduation from the typical K class.
I waited until after morning drop off and announcements to go to speak to him.
He came out of his office to speak with me in the main office area. I asked him about the separate kindergarten graduations and he confirmed, yes they will be separate. I asked him why.
He then tells me that he felt the functional kindergartens would disrupt the NORMAL kindergarten graduation and that wouldn’t be fair to those parents. I lost it at “normal kindergarten”.
I raised my voice and asked him if he thought discrimination was more appropriate than accommodation? And how the hell is it okay to exclude these children? He asked me to calm down and that made me lose it more.
I started yelling at him that my child deserves to be treated fairly and even if he wouldn’t sit through the graduation he should be allowed accommodations. And if the other parents knew he was excluding the special needs kids? I also told him he needs to read the ADA act. I said more but I started crying and shaking and pulling my hair.
He called the resource officer in there to escort me to my car without any answering my questions. On the way out I was yelling “accommodate don’t discriminate!” over and over.
The resource officer told me that she agreed with me and she was sorry. I sat in my car rocking to calm myself down. I called my husband and he offered to get off work to come get me and talk to the principal. I didn’t want him to miss work so I rocked more until I could drive.
A paper came home today letting the parents know if they want their child to participate in kindergarten graduation to please fill it out and write down accommodation needed. And his teacher thanked me via text letting me know she pushed for it and he declined her. It’s their first year having the functional class so I’m sure she didn’t want to seem out of line to her boss but I also let her know I feel she should be an advocate for them.
I was so embarrassed for having a meltdown at the school in front of staff members. I’m nervous that the staff members will look at me differently. Why did I have to have an epic meltdown?

During a normal work week, my only contact with the world are my few online co-workers. Melissa, a former prodigy and still very young tech genius, who's also my boss. She trades stocks and builds robots for fun, gives sound financial advice, is a Trump supporter, and sometimes seems to use Machiavellian tactics to get what she wants from people.
Then there's my peer and friend David. We started working together at the same time, so we were both the new guys. We would hang out after work when we still lived near each other and got pretty close. After COVID and WFH started, we moved further apart, but we would still talk every single morning while we got started with our day, just like we used to in the office. It was great!
Unfortunately, he started abusing WFH several years ago. He always wanted to start a small side-hustle and I supported THAT idea, what's the harm right? But now he owns a business that he runs while on the clock. Not a side-hustle that sells crap online, no no no. A fully staffed brick-and-mortar business that runs 7 days a week. HOW IN THAT FUCK is that possible!? It’s getting successful too! I was initially proud that he was able to keep up with his 9 to 5 and run a business. Then I learned the truth one day in a confession he made while we were bullshitting. He hasn't been working, not one bit. He clocks in and just drives to his business or takes phone calls, does scheduling, doing payroll, inventory, all the stuff an owner needs to do for their business on a daily basis.
Meanwhile I’m at my desk being messaged all day to do random things, get people the information they need, fix bugs in production or database, give solutions to problems. That's in addition to my actual job, a new major assignments, sometimes several different ones per week. I'm at my desk a minimum of 8 hours a day, but it's usually 10ish. Sometimes I'll work all night or catch up on weekends. He and I both get paid very well for being at a smaller company, over 100k.
It’s become very clear to me I’ve been slowly picking up more and more of David’s work over the last couple years as my work load has been going up dramatically. Melissa seems to have no problem assigning everything to me and letting David’s get away with doing almost nothing.
He is given work, but it's just unimportant jobs with no timeline given. I’ve seen him take a month to scrape a website for competitor data. I know because I helped him debug, I realized he used ChatGPT to write the entire thing and asked him to throw it in the garbage. He said he forgot how to code. No joke. He ended up using a paid service to collect the data to complete the very easy assignment. At our meeting he announced he had a great deal of competitor pricing data to share, and oh boy he got so much encouragement in the meeting, lots of praise. I had to bite my tongue pretty hard. It was right then I realized I was getting very upset about it all, which in turn made me feel guilty because he's a great friend.
I can only assume Melissa is overlooking it all purposely, as a punishment to me for threatening to quit if forced to come back into the office last year when I was asked to. She is very intelligent, so it's beyond me how he is getting away with it so blatantly. David’s my friend, but he has been abusing the business that pays my bills and puts food on my table, and making me work long extra hours to pick up his slack.
My friend still has the nerve to ask for my help when he finally decides to work here and there. I’ve gone from considering him one of my best friends, to almost outright despising him in the last year. I’ve fantasized about ways to tell on him. I know it would do very little in the end. He wouldn’t be replaced and I won’t see a pay raise, so what's the point in betraying him like that. He doesn't seem to realize the side effects of his lack of contributions on my work load, and nobody is saying anything.
It's slowly been causing me to fall into a depression and I'm starting to burn out. I've got about a month of vacation time to use and nothing even sounds fun to do. I've stopped showering as often, I don't do anything fun or ever initiate a conversation with my friends. I stopped working out and running and barely go outside. Hell, I've stopped talking to my dog as much. I just kind of grunt at him now and he understands.
I'm hoping my friends business takes off and he'll just quit, cause it's making me crazy. Thanks for reading.

For context of this review, please see: https://www.reddit.com/fragrance/s/J731kuykcC
Floral discovery set
2) Lan Hua
Notes: powdery violet leaf, galbanum; with white orchid, purple flowers, tonka bean and amber, anchored by sandalwood and musk
My review: So I googled and realised that Lan Hua is the Chinese name for magnolia in English. I have no idea how magnolia actually smells like because I have never seen it in real life. Or even if I have, I probably didn't notice it. Flowers are really not my thing.
According to some Chinese websites, Lan Hua is the shortened name of Mu Lan Hua, as in Mulan, the Disney chinese "princess warrior" who is an actual historical character known for pretending to be a man in order to save her elderly father from military conscription and certain death is named after the magnolia flower. It's kind of ironic because in chinese, the magnolia flower symbolises female beauty, wealth and honour. A cross-dressing FtM named after a flower that symbolises femininity tickles something inside me for some strange reason.
My first impression of the perfume when I sprayed this was, "okay... this is very chinese. It is indisputably chinese. It smells chinese. Why? What about it is so chinese to me?" Then I realised, every year, my family used to conduct certain rituals during a day called Ching ming jie, in English called: tomb sweeping day. We would go to the cemeteries of our grandparents to clean out their plaques or gravestones depending if they had been buried or cremated. We would bring these colourful flowers that were a mix of white, purple, yellow, orange that smelt delicate sweet and light, almost like jasmine. Lan Hua from olfac3 brought back those memories for me. Have you ever made a pot of Chinese jasmine tea? You put the flowers in, and then you pour hot water in. When the water goes in, a delicate light sweet scent is released. Lan Hua smells like that, with a few differences. First, there is definitely a tinge of creaminess similar to vanilla that is absent in delicate jasmine. The creaminess adds a touch of depth and elegance to the delicate light sweet floral. Second, I can definitely detect the warmth and sweetness of the Amber that grounds the delicate floral. Even though the notes list musk and sandalwood, I can barely detect any powderiness or wood in this particular perfume. This scent is nostalgic for me. It's 6am here now, so I have no one to get feedback on it from. But I will be very interested to show this to my Chinese friends and ask them how they feel about it later today.
For me, this is not a scent that I personally would wear. It's too orientally feminine, too delicate, too elegant and would not go with my berms, sneakers and dry fit shirts as I run around in rough developing areas planning logistics. But I could imagine a beautiful high class woman in a red cheongsam sitting in front of an ornate mirror, her hair all done up in a neat bun held together by one of those silver hair chopsticks, putting on her pearl earrings and getting ready to go to a ball or high tea. It smells of oriental feminine elegance from a different time period. I could imagine concubines of chinese emperors wearing this too. It is a lovely nostalgic scent for me in particular as a Chinese.
I honestly am tempted to send it away to someone random on reddit from another ethnicity, and ask them how they feel about it because this one brings up very strong emotions and memories for me. I would love to know how someone from a different culture perceives this particular scent, like would they see themselves wearing it? What images or feelings do they have when they sniff it? Is the oriental femininity just a prejudice of mine that comes from childhood experience or do ppl from different cultures feel the same way. I am going to the post office to see if I can send this tiny sample away if anyone here wants to try it and is willing to answer those questions i have above. I prefer the person getting the sample to not be east Asian, if that is alright? There are too many cultural similarities for someone East Asian to satisfy my curiosity. Let me know if you'd like the sample and of course, the condition is that you must write back and tell me what you think of it.

Tuesday, May 21 Good morning! Today's Morning Brief is all about strategists revising their 2024 year-end predictions. Nasdaq record highs: The Nasdaq rose 0.65% to a record close as the S&P 500 gained 0.1% Monday. The week's optimism came on the back of a few revised S&P 500 year-end calls (see both today's Takeaway and the Chart of the Day!). ‌
JPMorgan's succession story: JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon noted that his retirement was both closer than "five years away," his standard stock answer over the years, and that a succession plan was "well on the way." Talk of the CEO's departure moved the stock down 4.5%, despite the bank's good news: It revised its 2024 revenue expectations higher due to two potential rate cuts. The cuts would increase its net interest margin, a key banking metric marking the difference between what banks pay for deposits and what they make from them. ‌ Microsoft's new vision for AI: Microsoft announced its "Copilot+ PCs" on Monday, giving the world a look at how the most valuable company in the world plans to integrate its AI capabilities into consumer computers — capabilities that it hopes will reignite the PC market. Using specialized chips on the devices (no need for cloud processing), the ChatGPT-4o-based system assists users by seeing and analyzing what's already on the screen, integrating a key communication step. The software will be on Surface tablets as well as PCs from the usual suspects: Acer, ASUS, Dell, HP, Lenovo, and Samsung. The stock rose 1.2% Monday. ‌ 'A good position to hold steady': Monday's round of Fedspeak had Fed Vice Chair Philip Jefferson and Fed Vice Chair for Supervision Michael Barr concurring with a suite of their peers who have reiterated their wait-and-see approach to rates. One month of encouraging data isn't enough for them, and as Fed Chair Jerome Powell said last week, three months might be better. ‌
Rising metal prices: Gold and copper hit records Monday as silver hit a 12-year high. Gold has been on a roll of late thanks to demand from central banks and potential Fed rate cuts. And copper, as a non-precious metal, has seen its value spike due to higher demand from machinery and wiring applications. Another picks-and-shovels AI trade, perhaps. What we're watching Morning Brief is written and edited by Ethan Wolff-Mann. For the web version, click here. Follow all the action throughout the day on Yahoo Finance and on the Yahoo Finance app.
Taylor Swift's economic boost is traveling from the US to Europe. ‌ Amid uncertainty around Social Security, here's what financial advisers are telling clients. ‌ Audi furthers EV push into China with new platform agreement.‌ Housing experts revise mortgage rate forecasts for remainder of 2024. ‌ Secondhand Rolex sales surge in 'underdeveloped' US market. ‌ Wall Street's biggest bear flips, raises S&P 500 price target by 20%. What we're reading
Today's Takeaway is by Myles Udland, Head of News. ‌ One of the most notable bears on Wall Street finally flipped this week. Morgan Stanley's Mike Wilson raised his price target for the S&P 500 over the next 12 months to 5,400 from 4,500, a 20% jump amid a market Wilson sees defined by "higher than normal uncertainty." Josh Schafer has more on Wilson's call here. ‌ And in his report, Wilson included a chart that serves as a note of caution to stock market bulls looking for lower rates to power the next leg of this rally. ‌ "[There] is a wide array of return outcomes across history following the start of the cutting cycle," Wilson wrote. ‌ "In many ways, this analysis encapsulates our outlook well — a balanced risk/reward profile in the average/base line view, but the potential for a wide array of scenarios to play out. Once again, get ready for some notable swings in sentiment, positioning and prices."
Interest rate cuts have a complicated history with the stock market The S&P 500's average annual return is around 10%, making the 12-month returns that follow rate cuts, on average, well below this bogey. And with the exceptions of 1974, 1989, and 2019, year-ahead returns for the S&P 500 after rate cuts have typically been well outside this historical average both high and low. ‌ All else equal, lower interest rates benefit riskier assets like stocks, bringing down the return hurdle that makes stocks preferable to something like fixed income. ‌ What Wilson's data reminds us, however, is that rate cuts aren't something the Federal Reserve typically does "just because." ‌ Even the winning years in Wilson's chart are reminders of precarious moments in financial market history — the 1994 bond market crash gave rise to James Carville's famous complaints about "bond vigilantes," and 1998's emerging market crisis and collapse of LTCM forced the Fed to take drastic action to save a single hedge fund. ‌
Go back 18 months and Wall Street expected a recession to prompt rate cuts. Today, the Fed is looking for "greater confidence that inflation is moving down sustainably toward 2%" as the catalyst to lower rates. ‌ Last year's view on rate cuts was in line with history: A negative shock prompts the Fed to move. The current view is anomalous. ‌ Though as Wilson notes, in the current market, what else would you expect? ‌ "The last couple of months have been a microcosm in this respect as economic growth data have once again cooled after a period of strength, while inflation data have been bumpy," Wilson wrote. ‌ "In short, macro outcomes have become increasingly hard to predict as data have become more volatile. We see this environment persisting." The Wall Street consensus for the S&P 500 has been shifting, with three strategists boosting their outlook for the benchmark index. Let's round up the latest changes. ‌ ‌ ‌
Chart of the day BMO Capital Market's chief investment strategist Brian Belski boosted his year-end target to 5,600 from 5,100, noting that momentum in the market is "likely to persist." On Friday, Deutsche Bank chief equity strategist Binky Chadha boosted his year-end target for the benchmark to 5,500 from 5,100, noting robust earnings growth and an improving macroeconomic consensus. Then, on Sunday, one of the biggest bears on Wall Street over the past year joined the crowd. Morgan Stanley chief investment officer Mike Wilson now sees the S&P 500 hitting 5,400 in the next 12 months, up from his prior call that the index would fall to 4,500, driven by solid earnings growth.
As Myles writes in the Takeaway, there are notes of caution in Wilson's "bullish" call. Macro consensus has become "increasingly hard to predict" in the current environment, with the market shifting back and forth between a "soft landing" and "no landing" base case. Investors, he wrote, should be "ready for more rotations." ‌ But as our chart of the day shows, with Wilson no longer calling for a market decline, few on Wall Street see any further "rotations" sending stocks sinking to end the year. ‌ And to JPMorgan ... we are waiting patiently. ‌ — Josh Schafer, Markets Reporter

Hi all, longtime listener, first-time caller. Please see my query and first 300 below.
My biggest question is this: 95% of the story takes place in 2014, but the book opens in 2020 when my main character receives a letter from the California Dept of Fair Housing & Employment informing her of an investigation into behavior at Chatpic. Receiving the letter spurs her to tell the story of what happened back then. The book checks back into 2020 in the middle as my MC tries to get more information about the investigation, and then it ends back in 2020 again when she decides what she wants to do about the letter.
The reason the story takes place in 2014 is because the time period--pre #MeToo/Donald Trump/the workplace reckoning of 2020--informs the decisions the MC makes back then, and she's looking back at it from a wiser perspective. If you've read The Rachel Incident, Caroline O'Donoghue does a similar thing as she retells a 2008 abortion story from the perspective of present day.
In the end, the investigation is not a driving force of the plot--so my question is how important is it that it's mentioned in the query? I ask because I've found that trying to add that piece to what I've already written starts to get convoluted, though obviously I can work at it. I think it's very clear once you read the first 300, but for agents who don't want a sample, is it clear in the blurb that this story is looking back to a time gone by?
Mostly looking for insight on this question specifically, but if you have further feedback about the letter for first 300, open to that as well. Thanks!
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear [Agent],
Thank you for the opportunity to submit my query for TERMS OF SERVICE, a true-ish fictional story about a young woman in a nearly impossible workplace a la UNCANNY VALLEY meets THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA (with shades of 9 TO 5). TERMS OF SERVICE is complete at 95,000 words.
It’s 2014 and down-and-out celebrity blogger Maggie Clarke is desperate for a fresh start. Not only is she broke in New York City, but at 31, she thought she’d be writing something a little less embarrassing than Justin Bieber listicles by now. When her longtime internet friend Aron York–recently named the world’s youngest billionaire–offers her a lucrative position at his massively popular social media app Chatpic that puts her at the center of his inner circle in Los Angeles, it’s exactly the step-up she’s been waiting for. As Maggie learns to manage the always-on hours, the slew of acronyms, and the unlimited access to free cold brew, she encounters another more complicated problem–the boys’ club. Except this isn’t the typical ham-fisted sexism she’s used to–this is the tech bro variety: insidious, inexorable, and infuriating. When she meets an ambitious young reporter who encourages her to speak out, Maggie has a shot at revenge. But in a world before mansplaining and microaggressions, is blowing the whistle worth the risk? And is anyone ready to hear it?
Like Maggie, I was also plucked from internet obscurity by the world’s (then) youngest billionaire, [redacted], to come work at his massively popular social media app, [redacted company]. I was a founding member of the company’s content team, and all I have to show for it is six footnotes in the [redacted company] biography [redacted title] and the brutal feminist awakening that inspired me to write this manuscript. Before that, I was a full-time writer in New York whose work has appeared on MTV, Rolling Stone and Elle. Currently I’m a content and editorial consultant in Chicago, and I’m also on TikTok where 21,000 people watch me rant about work and office culture. (It’s also where 2M people enjoyed my show-and-tell video about the “sentimental” stock certificates [redacted company previously mentioned] gave a few early employees–that were worth exactly $0.00.)
As the agent who represents [Author 1] and [Author 2], you have a strong list when it comes to complex female characters embroiled in complicated social dynamics. TERMS OF SERVICE would be a great addition to this track because, while similar themes of class and workplace are explored, my flavor of levity and sarcasm makes my work distinct from [Author 1] and [Author 2], bringing a new facet to your program.
If you are interested in reading TERMS OF SERVICE, I would be happy to forward a sample of any length you suggest. Thank you for your consideration!
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
First 300:
Chapter 1
2020
A lot of people might revel in the idea of receiving a letter announcing an investigation into their ex-employer.
One might, for example, envision draping themselves in a mink stole, lighting the cigarette at the end of their old-timey cigarette holder, and dialing the investigator’s number from a rotary phone atop a solid wood desk under shadowy, film noir lights. One might then imagine whispering I knew this day would come into the receiver between bursts of psychotic, hysterical laughter as they rejoiced in the long overdue arrival of the long arm of the law.
But me, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe because I didn’t have a mink stole.
No, I was crouched on the ground of my parents’ musky basement in Des Plaines, Illinois, knee-deep in piles of old diaries and CDs when I received notice of one such letter. It was month four of COVID, and Dad and I were only halfway through his cleaning list. He was already a germaphobe so a global pandemic was all he needed to justify a top-to-bottom disinfection of the entire house. And since my routine trip home in the middle of March turned into a hapless extended stay when the world shut down, it was the perfect excuse to put me to work. Just like the good old days.
We wiped down every square inch of the place. We soaked the faucet heads in lemon juice, we scrubbed the coffee mugs with baking soda. We vacuumed the damn fridge.
Reorganizing the basement shelves was a beast. Every box was like a Russian nesting doll of useless crap: old TV Guides, corroded double-A batteries, dried-out cans of paint primer, an unsettling number of hand saws. I made decent headway through the “tools” and “electronics,” but I lost all steam when I got to my high school stuff—faded Polaroids and folded-up notes stopped me in my tracks.

Howdy. I am officer M (only M, privacy reasons, could lose my job if I was exposed). I’ve been investigating these three cases for the past few years, and I wanted to see if anyone had any clue how to solve them.
I normally wouldn’t go to places like Reddit for this, but I’m desperate. Everyone else I’ve tried has said that this is some kind of webseries project thing. It isn’t.
I’m gonna show you the transcriptions of three sets of video tapes. The first set is from James Barlowe, the second from Daren Redd, and the third from Nick Robin.
Well, I’d better get on with it.
[- - -]
There’s only one tape in this section. It begins with a man in a priest’s uniform (identified as James Barlowe) in the driver’s seat of a car. The person holding the camera is in the passenger’s side.
CAMERAMAN (LATER IDENTIFIED AS NICK ROBIN): “So! What’re we doing, James?”
JAMES: “Oh, uhm, we’re going to a haunted house to perform an exorcism.”
NICK: “Hell yeah we are!”
Nick turns the camera towards his face.
NICK: “Someone tipped us off on a haunted house recently, so we’re gonna go check it out. And James is gonna use his cool priest powers or whatever to get rid of the ghosts! Right James?”
The camera pans to James.
JAMES: “Ah- Yeah.”
The camera turns back to Nick.
NICK: “Now, I’m not gonna be in this one too much, since James is gonna be doing his stuff on his own.”
JAMES: “Wait what?”
The tape cuts off here, and picks back up with James holding the camera. He’s in front of a run-down, abandoned house. He seems nervous, fidgeting with the stole around his neck.
JAMES: “Okay, so, uhm. I am Father Barlowe, and, uhm..I kind of thought Nick was gonna be here. He- He told me he was gonna be here. I dunno. Uhm. Today I’m going to exorcise this ghost. I, uh, don’t know if I’m allowed to do that anymore. But I know how.”
James turns the camera around, and starts to walk into the house. The front door opens into a hallway, which leads to a living room. The camera shakes as James fumbles with his pockets, then brings out a cross. He holds it out in front of him.
JAMES: “Uhm, if there are any ghosts here, show yourself.”
Nothing happens. James mutters something about editing. He waves the cross around dramatically.
JAMES: “Ghost, or demon, or whatever you are, please come and-”
A loud bang comes from somewhere within the house. James seems to flinch. He can be heard heavily breathing as he turns the camera towards the sound.
JAMES: “Uhm..Okay. That’s okay. I’ve got a cross. I’m okay.”
James begins to walk down the hall, where the sound was heard. The camera is shaking, and James is holding out his cross.
JAMES: “Okay, uhm- I think..I think the ghost is in there.”
James points to the doorway at the end of the corridor, then advances towards it. He walks through, and into what appears to be a study. There is a desk and chair in the corner. The chair has a pitch-black figure in it.
JAMES: “Oh god, okay, uhm- Okay. Okay. Uhm. Uh- Demon!”
The figure turns to face James. He holds out his cross with a trembling hand.
JAMES: “Foul creature, begone from this home-”
The figure stands up and begins to walk towards James. The camera is dropped.
JAMES: “Oh God, oh God!”
James can be heard running away.
[- - -]
This first tape is very intriguing to me. The figure has not been identified. At least, not as anyone in the town.
I interviewed both Nick Robin and James Barlowe (they had not gone missing after this video. quite the contrary, in fact. James Barlowe is the one that brought the video to police), and they revealed that most of the content in their videos was fake.
They said that the events of the video were not planned.
[- - -]
The camera appears to be moved around a bit, before setting up to show a man in a red hoodie (identified as Daren Redd) sitting in an office chair. It can be assumed that he’s at his desk. He smiles at the camera.
DAREN: “Uh- Hi. This feels weird, haha. I don’t think I should introduce myself? I don’t know. No one but me’s gonna see this anyways. Unless I make, like, a giant scientific discovery. Or break a world record.”
Daren fidgets with the strings of his hoodie, twirling one between his fingers.
DAREN: “So. My sleep schedule sucks. I’ve been trying to fix it for weeks now, it isn’t working. I’ve decided, fuck it, I’m just gonna roll with it. So! I’m gonna try and stay up for 12 days straight.”
Daren grabs the camera, and shows a calendar up on the wall. The month and year are cut off. Two days are circled (Tuesday, then the next Saturday).
DAREN: “I’ve got a calendar here so that I can figure out how long I’ve been up. If I do more physical stuff, maybe I’ll stay up longer! Haha.”
The camera pans back to Daren.
DAREN: “I’ve got my room-mate watching over me. He’s actually in here right now- Say hi, Nick!”
(PRESUMABLY) NICK, IN THE BACKGROUND: “Hey.”
DAREN: “I rested up real good to prepare for this, so I’m hoping that my plan works. So, uh..Yeah. D-Man out.”
The next tape starts out with Daren holding the camera up to Nick Robin.
DAREN: “Niiiiiiiick.”
NICK: “Why are you recording me?”
DAREN: “Nick how long have I been awake?”
NICK: “Since yesterday, I think.”
Daren flips the camera around to face him. He has a large grin on his face.
DAREN: “That’s right, baby! D-Man has been awake for one whole day! Well- Two? One? Since Tuesday. It’s, uh, Wednesday.”
Daren shows the calendar to the camera. Tuesday is crossed off.
DAREN: “So far, nothing weird has happened yet. I’m tired, but I’ve been drinking a ton of Monster.”
The camera pans to a trash can, with several cans of Monster in it.
DAREN: “So! I should be able to stay up as long as I need. World record, here I come!”
The third tape begins with Daren dragging a trash bag outside.
DAREN: “Ok so I forgot to record a tape today, and I know that if I don’t do it now I’m gonna forget again. But, uhm, I’ve been up for..Uh..I dunno. Time is a concept, anyways. It’s Thursday now, though!”
Daren heaves the trash bag into a can. He walks back inside, and sighs with relief as he enters.
DAREN: “Whew, I love air conditioning.”
NICK (IN THE BACKGROUND): “Dude- Why don’t you take your hoodie off?”
DAREN: “Ah, y’know.”
NICK: “I really don’t.”
DAREN: “See, you get it!”
Daren chuckles and brings the camera into his room. He sets it down on his desk, and sits down in the office chair. He has bags under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than usual.
DAREN: “So. Recently, I’ve been tired. Like, horridly tired. To the point where even sitting down is a..” Yawn. “Risky move for me. But, working from home is keeping me on my toes. Who knew that writing reports could be so exhilerating!”
He looks over his shoulder for a moment, before turning back to the camera. His eyes appear wide and frightened, but he’s still smiling.
DAREN: “Uh, pro tip, maybe don’t try this stuff! I’m stupid enough to try and get a world record, but you, uh, shouldn’t be. Anyways, uhm, D-Man out.”
The fourth tape shows Daren in the hospital, sitting next to Nick, who is in a bed with an IV in his arm. Daren’s eye bags have gotten worse.
DAREN: “Hey, uhm. I don’t know if I’m supposed to record in here. I had to drive Nick to the hospital- He had a dairy allergy thing.”
NICK: “I said he could record in here, don’t worry.”
DAREN: “Yea, he- He said I could record this. I think I’m gonna stay the night here- People do that at hospitals, right? But, uh, they don’t need a bed for me. Because I’m not sleeping! I’m just gonna, uh, play on my phone for the night.”
Daren looks over his shoulder, before turning back to the camera.
DAREN: “Well! It’s Friday now. Been, uh, four days, I think? Yeah. I’ve been awake for four whole days! Well, uhm, this is more filler than anything. Nothing to note. D-Man out.”
The fifth tape is corrupted. Nothing is salvageable.
The sixth tape begins with Daren sitting at his desk. He looks tired beyond comprehension. His knee is bouncing, and he’s tapping his fingers on the table.
DAREN: “Uh, day..Six. I think. It’s Sunday now. The Lord’s day, ha-ha! I’m- I’m not religious. But, uhm, I know one of Nick’s friends is. James something. Maybe I should call that guy. I-”
Daren cuts himself off by looking over his shoulder. He looks back. His eyes are wild and terrified.
DAREN: “I think this was a bad idea. A horrible idea. I- I tried to sleep yesterday. But I couldn’t. I can’t- I can’t close my eyes for too long. Uhm..Nick has been in the hospital since Friday. He’s- He should be back by now. His visits never take this long.”
Daren chuckles. His voice sounds nervous.
DAREN: “He should be back soon, though, right? Right. He’s just taking a bit longer than usual. Uhm, Darry out.”
The seventh tape shows Daren sitting under his desk. He sets up the camera and brings his knees to his chest.
DAREN: “Nick came back today. He, uhm. He’s acting different. I was- I was talking to him, and he, uhm. He forgot he had a dairy allergy. He just..Forgot. I reminded him and he went- He went, oh, yeah. Like he didn’t go to the hospital for it a couple days ago.”
Daren appears to be trembling. He pulls his hood over his head.
DAREN: “..Been awake for seven days, ha-ha. So close! Just, uhm..Five? Four? Something around that. That many days left. I don’t- I don’t wanna do this. But I think I have to. I think it’ll leave me alone if I..”
Daren looks up at something offscreen, and screams.
[- - -]
Daren Redd went missing after this video. I’ve been looking for him for years. I’m trying to stay professional here, but I really don’t know what’s going on. I still sometimes try to figure out what he was looking at in the last tape. But there’s no reflection in his eyes- No shadows anywhere. Nothing. Could he be hallucinating?
I don’t think he is. I think he’s seeing things, sure, but they’re real. They have to be real.
[- - -]
This last section begins with Nick Robin in a car. He’s driving this time, with the camera on the dashboard. James is in the passenger seat. There’s camping gear and a few bags in the back seats.
NICK: “Hey! Welcome back to the PDC (later identified as Paranormal Discovery Channel, the youtube account that both Nick Robin and James Barlowe share), today we’re gonna be exploring a whole abandoned town! It’s called, uh..What was it called again?”
JAMES: “Sasbol heights.”
NICK: “Right, right. Sasbol heights or whatever. Anyways! It’s gonna be cool. Oh- There it is! Dude dude dude- Look!”
The camera points to a charred-looking town. Maybe burnt down?
NICK: “We’re gonna get settled, then get back to all of you. I’ll see y’all soon!”
The next tape begins with Nick sitting in a tent.
NICK: “So! It’s been, like, a day. The first night was pretty underwhelming- Just some creepy old town with bugs and stuff. Nothing too special. Just a bigger version of a haunted house.”
Nick looks off screen- Presumably at James. Nick chuckles.
NICK: “James is sleeping right now. Apparently he’s been having nightmares? That’s, uh, pretty normal for him, though. Oh! Today I started setting up the ghost hunting stuff. Unpacking, putting up cameras, all that jazz.”
There’s shuffling from behind the camera. Nick smiles at (assumedly) James, and winks at the camera.
The third tape starts with Nick and James going into one of the abandoned houses. Nick seems much more enthusiastic than James.
JAMES: “We’re gonna put a voice-over on this, right?”
NICK: “Yea, yea. Something something, abandoned house, something something.”
JAMES: “Good, good, uhm..Nick, man, you know I like doing this and all..But I don’t think I like this episode. It’s like- It feels wrong, y’know?”
NICK: “Mm..You’re right, you’re right. But hey! Think of the money we’ll get from this. Our reactions are gonna be authentic and shit. Plus, we’ve only got a day left.”
Nick pats James’ back, and James smiles.
JAMES: “Right. You’re right.”
The fourth tape is corrupted.
The fifth tape doesn’t include James or Nick’s face, but we can assume who is talking.
NICK: “Listen, man, it- It just got corrupted. It’s fine, right? It’s cool. We can redo it-”
JAMES: “I’m fucking serious, Nick! This isn’t normal! None of the shit we saw yesterday was planned!”
NICK: “I know, I know, but come on man! I need this money!”
JAMES: “Money isn’t worth it, at this point. Please, God, let’s just leave.”
NICK: “If you wanna leave, just go! I can do the video without you.”
JAMES: “I’m not just leaving you with these demons!”
Both Nick and James are quiet for a while. Nick silently walks back to the tent, bringing the camera with him.
The sixth tape is shot from within Nick’s car. Nick is driving, the camera is on the dashboard. He seems terrified.
NICK: “I’m not publishing this. I’m keeping this for myself, and- I don’t know! The police, probably! Jesus Christ- I’m fucking speeding. Are there even road laws here?”
Nick looks at his gas tank, seeing the needle nearing the E. He begins to tear up.
NICK: “Fuck- Uhm. What happened. James tried to kill me, and- And I don’t think he’s James anymore. I really don’t. He’s- He’s not that guy I went to high school with. There’s actually no way.”
He looks at the camera briefly, doing a quick double take.
NICK: “What- No. No. No- Goddammit! Leave me alone!”
The car swerves, and the camera topples over.
[- - -]
I’ve been thinking about these cases since I found them. The actual police department doesn’t know about them- And I haven’t told my superior about them. These tapes just kind of appeared at my doorstep one day, along with a camera.
I looked at the camera’s film, and found three images.
The first one is a picture from the first set of tapes. It seems edited, though. James has a halo.
The second one is from the second set. It shows an image of Daren, with some kind of pitch-black figure behind him.
The third one is, supposedly, from the third set. Though nothing like it is seen anywhere in the tapes. It’s an image taken from the driver’s seat of Nick’s car, showing the camera from the video on the dashboard. On the screen of the camera is Nick. The image is edited to show a car tire over Nick’s face.
If anyone knows anything about James Barlowe, Daren Redd, or Nick Robin, please tell me at [xxxxxxxxxxxxxx]@gmail.com.

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

A while back I was interested in moving to a slightly bigger apartment. Found a place nearby at a complex and toured.
I thought it was fine, then they told me I had to pay the $300 security deposit before looking at the lease. I thought that was weird but I was (at the time) very confident I wanted the apartment. So I paid the security deposit then looked at the lease. I made extra sure to note that this was the SECURITY deposit, and not a housing deposit, which I had already paid. It was like $100.
The lease had a few red flags I won't get into, but it also had the wrong unit number and was on the first floor instead of the second like I wanted. I tried emailing, no response. I tried calling, never got through. So I took the time to drive out there just so they could clarify. They basically told me they could write up a new lease real quick with the correct unit and the new rent. But the new rent was about $100 extra.
At that point I was pretty mad and I didn't want to pay an extra $1200 a year. So I told them no thanks, I won't be signing.
Later that day I emailed them and said yo give me my security desposit back, but I understood I'd lose the housing deposit. And they emailed me back basically saying the security deposit was not refundable "because I cancelled."
At this point I was BIG mad. So I emailed back citing my state's laws regarding security deposits and how they are to be used. Such as how they're held in escrow, are refundable based on certain conditions and all that. No response for a week.
After that week I printed out a letter threatening a lawsuit in small claims in 14 days if they don't return my security deposit. Mailed it to their office after double checking the mailing address.
Two weeks later I still had no response. I then filed a complaint with the state attorney generals office and then I sent one last email to them saying I would file suit the next morning. I finally got a response a few hours later and they said they'd mail me a check. I got it in the mail about two days later.
Why all that trouble just to return a security deposit? Are they just incompetent or is it malicious? It's silly that I have to threaten legal action just to get MY OWN money back.
TLDR: Apartment complex made me pay the security deposit before signing the lease, I said whatever and paid it, then I changed my mind and had to threaten a lawsuit to get the deposit back.

Chapter 1

Concept art for Sybil
Of Men and Ghost Ships, Book 1: Chapter 21
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As Carter walked onto the bridge, he was surprised that only the girl was present, but he decided to shrug it off. Maybe they were having fun observing their new toy ant colony or whatever the vixen would call the cockroach equivalent. Instead, he spoke to the Sybil who was present. "Well, now that everyone's settled in, so to speak, how do we go about unloading them?"
Instead of adjusting her glasses and launching into an analytical assessment as he expected, the girl looked at Carter with a raised eyebrow. "You want to get rid of them so soon? After being stuck with us for the last few weeks, I figured you'd be with them, enjoying some human company."
Carter shrugged. "This may surprise you, but despite seeking out the glamorous lifestyle of a solo cargo hauler, I'm not much of a people person. I'm not saying I'm a huge fan of empty halls and dust-filled rooms, but I'm not looking into making several dozen new friends, either."
The girl shrugged. "As you prefer, though these may very well be the last people you'll have a chance to get to know."
When Carter didn't say anything, she continued. "Well, unloading them isn't as easy as flying to a space station and dropping them off. It may have been a while, but I'm sure the local governments still have at least some record of all our pirate activity over the years. It might be better to wait until we come across a cargoship of some kind and drop them off there."
Carter laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure any captain would be delighted to take on a whole extra crew's worth of mouths to feed when they have little to offer in return. Not to mention the difficulty of even getting someone to stay and listen long enough to ask. Maybe the new guys never heard of you, but almost anyone who's been in the game long enough to become a captain will know of the stories and rumors about the Sybil. As soon as we show up, any sane captain will either run or shoot first and ask questions later!"
The girl smiled, though this smile would probably be more at home on the vixen's face. "Yes, that has been our general experience as well. So what is it you suggest, Captain?"
Carter stopped and thought about it a moment. "Well, you need to hunt ships to repair and maintain yourself anyway, right? If we take one in good enough condition, we could just give it to them and let them fly off on their own..."
The girl looked bemused. "Quite generous of you to just let them have an entire ship just like that."
Carter shrugged. "Listen, I'm not saying we give them a battleship or some state-of-the-art freighter, but pirates tend to convert anything they can get their hands on into some sort of fighting vessel, whether it's in good shape or a junker. We can probably find some old, beaten-down freighter that's not worth the resources to consume and let them have that. It won't be glorious, but it should get them to a nearby colony or station, and they can figure it out from there."
Now, the girl seemed inscrutable. "So, you want us to become pirate hunters now? Like some sort of do-gooders from a children's cartoon?"
Carter shook his head, then stopped and thought about it. "No... Well, not quite, anyway. Listen, I'm not looking to take on any more than we can chew, and I'm definitely not interested in risking life and limb for a bunch of people I've never met, but this way, we can satisfy everyone's needs and not take it out on a bunch of people who are just trying to get by same as us. It'll get you the resources you need, get the pirate the fight he craves, and let the vixen torment lowlifes to her heart's content. It's what we call a win-win...win."
The girl looked bemused again. "The pirate and...vixen..?"
Carter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Hey, I gotta call you all something other than Sybil. You might all share one mind and memory, but you're all very different people to me. What did you want me to do? Call you all Sybil? That would get confusing real quick!"
The girl laughed. "I suppose, given your... limited perception, that makes sense. So, what's your little nickname for this version of me?"
Carter wondered briefly if he was talking to the vixen in disguise, but despite her choice of words, it lacked the edge or condescension she usually had. Instead, he decided to just answer. "The girl, I suppose."
This time, the girl looked mildly offended. "'The girl?' Really? I'm almost surprised you didn't choose something really witty like four eyes or bookworm!"
Carter grinned. "I didn't know you liked books!"
It was the girl's turn to roll her eyes. "Not the point!"
Carter decided to take pity on her. "Well, what would you like me to call you then?"
That seemed to stump the girl. "What? Do you want me to come up with a name for myself? I already have one. I'm Sybil!"
Back where he started, Charter shrugged again. "Hey, that's fine. I respect that. But given my 'limited perception,' I still have to differentiate you somehow. I can just stick with the girl, pirate, and vixen if you prefer."
The girl shook her head. "No...I'll think about it..."
Carter grinned. "That's all I ask! For now, anyway. And while you do that, I'll go enjoy some 'human company' and have a word with our guests about what we're gonna do with them. Maybe they'll have an idea or two to offer."
-
Alen had just finished eating and was trying to think of some way to pass the time that didn't involve exercising, eating, or sleeping, which seemed to be the only three things available for the crew when Captain Carter walked into the mess hall. He looked around for a bit, then upon seeing Erik, Vanessa, and Alen, who'd taken to eating together, he seemed to brighten slightly and approach the table.
Unsure of what the Captain would want but nonetheless curious, Alen found himself interested, but after Carter laid out his plan, Alen was suddenly less interested. "You want to pick a fight with a bunch of pirates to get us a ship? Are you insane? There's got to be some backwater colony you can drop us off at!"
The Captain shrugged. "Any colony backwater enough to not have records on this ship or be a threat to us is gonna be too small to handle your crew being suddenly dumped on them without notice. Besides, this way, you all can sell the ship, and you won't be starting from nothing!"
Alen shook his head. "We won't be able to sell anything if you get us killed before you unload us! This just sounds like suicide the hard way!"
The Captain didn't seem dissuaded. "Listen, this ship has been feared for hundreds of years for a reason. We were running on fumes in that last fight and still gave them a run for their money. Next time, we won't be on the back foot. I think we'll have that ship for you sooner rather than later!"
Alen shook his head. This guy had clearly lost his mind.
Of course, that was when Erik decided to offer his two cents. "Will we be able to have any fun, or would you be doing all the fighting?"
Alen fought the urge to slam his forehead into the table. Of course, the viking alien wanted to fight. Carter seemed thoughtful. "Well, if we take any ship intact enough to give to you all, it'll probably have to be cleared out the hard way, so I imagine you'd get to get your hands a little dirty."
Erik laughed and slapped the table. "I LIKE this plan!"
Commander Reid, who'd been walking past, looked interested in their discussion. "What's this about a fight?"
Erik grinned at the smaller man. "The Captain here wants to capture a pirate ship to give to us! But we'll have to clear the decks once the Sybil has disabled it!"
The commander took a seat at their table. "What kind of weaponry and support can you give us? What kind of a ship are we talking about? What's the crew compliment?"
Alen felt the last shreds of hope fading. This was not what he'd signed up for. When he'd managed to secure an officer position aboard the Trader's Vigilance, he'd thought he'd lucked into a nice, steady gig that would give him the experience and training he'd need to one day be captain of his own trading vessel. However, instead, he'd gotten a ship full of pirate-hunting lunatics, recruited an insane alien whose whole definition of entertainment seemed to begin and end with pirate hunting, and ended up aboard a pirate-hunting ghost ship. He was in a giant floating insane asylum and surrounded by madmen. He could only hope his family would be able to find his life insurance policy and get some use out of it...
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Well, sounds like almost all of the characters have gotten to know each other. Now to see how well they all get along!
My Wiki has all my chapters and stories, including the short series and stories that I write for an occasional change of pace or style!
As a reminder, "Of Men and Dragons" Books 1 and 2 are available to purchase in e-book or physical form. (Both softcover and hardcovers are available!) Book 3 is almost done being edited, so I'll just have to get the cover art and formatting done, and it will be available to purchase as well! Hopefully, in no more than a month or two! (Barring more Amazon drama like last time... fingers crossed!)
OMAD Book 1: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09NCPP3PP
OMAD Book 2: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ7FQ1ZJ

I also need to "tell someone".
I am in love with someone whose wife is cheating. I (28F) met him (44M) in 2021 when I was 25. We met at work, he hired me for management. I realized that the heart racing that kept me up at night for a month was something more than a health condition. I knew I loved him when he came back from the vacation he took. It was October. I feel this October since.
We had amazing relationships with no indecency from his side. He is a family man top to bottom. He is hardworking, nice, and humble even though he earns a lot. He respected people of humble professions and came from a humble background himself. That touched me. I don’t usually fall for guys with money. I am a hopeless romantic type-a-gal.
SO his wife. Let’s call her Kay(~42F). I suddenly stumbled upon narcissistic abuse paragraphs that fit the image even though she can give a picture of a perfect wife and a mother. They have 2 kids. As of what I accidentally heard with my own ears she treats them badly. As she treats her mother-in-law.
I knew what that type of a person she was and I was afraid she would leave him heartbroken. I was scared for him.
Anyway. I had an experience of abusive relationships in the past and our connection with him allowed me to talk openly about it. We shared messages in a chat app. I told stories about how I was fooled around and left heartbroken. In case we lose touch and he finds out about her infidelity. I wanted for him to have a safe space in me. To be the one to understand what he is going through.
But one night I received a threat from her on Facebook. She read my messages to him about the indecent and abusive partner I had and she recognized herself, I guess. She blocked me and sent a threat that she unsent but I saw the top of a message before it disappeared.
I sent him a screenshot of that in the morning and after that. We talked, and I saw a side of him I hadn’t seen before, he said that if I didn’t stop what I was doing, he might divorce his wife. I left him a message that I loved him since it was a war in our country and I didn’t know when I would see him again. I wanted him to feel support at least from me, because I’ve heard a couple of times how she’s mistreated him behind closed doors(I was on the phone, and she was yelling at him).
Later I was scared for his life. I hired an investigator who found out that she doesn’t handle her business properly and it’s a delicate type of business. Plus actively cheated on her husband, the one I loved with my whole heart. And I started leaving clues for his friend with the help of the same detective. I spent a lot of money on secrecy and everything, but then wanted to uncover myself to him and ask for forgiveness for getting into this. But I was afraid for his life.
I saw how some wife sold out her husband’s location to the russists and got him killed so she could continue living the life she wanted with her lover. It is a true story and looked to me like a pattern Kay might also go for.
Since I warned her potential customers online that her business was untrustworthy, she got very angry and started ruining my life. Using a platform of her business, she posted online untrue fabricated information about me, my health condition, etc. I was very stressed and even got into a hospital.
When I was discharged, I came back to normal life and sent him an email about what she was writing about me. He started apologizing and said he would fix it.
It’s been a year and I haven’t heard from him since. I sent him a bunch of emails asking for an honest answer. But I haven’t received any. She continued posting horrible lies about me though. She also hired some man to pretend he was a Police officer to intimidate me. She is insinuating that I am this crazy stalker who is sexually harassing him. And that's not all of the horrible things she's posting.
I ended my last email by saying I respect his choice to stay with her even though she is indecent and cheating because I love him and therefore I have to respect him as well.
I am crushed, lately nearly committed suicide, trying to live normally again, but I don’t know how. I still hope we will be together and I can make him happy, not just married.

My parked car was hit this morning while I was shopping for groceries. It was a hit and run with no note. Damage was not too major, but it's a big enough hit to probably need the bumper replaced. The responding officer shined a flashlight on the impact and said "this doesn't look fresh." What does that even mean? He said, "are you sure this just happened? Sometimes people just don't notice these things right away." and then he started asking for my schedule. "Where did you go yesterday?" and "where are you from?" I'm in my hometown talking to the local police. I'm from here! I responded more kindly than that, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was stunned by this line of questioning.
Now I'm just worried sick that he is going to write false accusations in the police report and insurance will deny my uninsured motorist claim. I guess I'm here to ask if this is a common police tactic to root out fraudsters, or did the officer just happen to be having a bad day? If it's the latter, can he write his own speculation into the report? How can I prove this just happened if there are no witnesses?

Hi all! First off, so glad this sub reddit exists because it was a life saver when I was making decisions on my own ACLr and knowing what to expect from surgery. I'm a 2x cancer surviver, Paramedic, Rugby player, and now have been a caregiver to my partner who just celebrated 3 months from her own ACLr. I collected a bunch of advice and tips and tricks that I have used both during cancer treatment, my own experience with ACLr, and now through care taking my partner through hers. I know there have been guides before, but mine is a bit different and aimed at caregivers so I thought I'd post it here since ya'll helped me so much instead of it just circulating the rugby community every time a teammate or friend has to have ACLr or some other reconstruction. Hope it's allowed and helps!
A Cancer Patients Guide To Knee Reconstruction Recovery
A Comprehensive Guide To Surviving and Thriving In the Pre and Post-op Period Built From The Perspective of Caretaker and Patient.
Before The Date
__/__/____

Preparation

It is important to adequately prepare for surgery in the weeks and days leading up to the procedure. A significant period of immobility and reliance on support can be expected immediately post-op and will vary by procedure and personal experience. Physical modification of living space and thorough preparation allows for the immediate post-op period to be free of emergency store runs and the small inconveniences that can add up to big frustration. Not having food and drink nearby as well as other essentials may be a small deal now, but can turn into a big deal when you can no longer get those things for yourself. While physical preparation (home modifications, adaptive tools, meal prepping, etc.) are important, mental preparation is crucial to the long term success of the repair. Making small, achievable goals in the immediate post-op period and maintaining a long sighted view of recovery will make the pain and immobility that is initially experienced more bearable. Additionally, social support through a partner, family members, or friends is an essential part of recovery, as is maintaining contact with sports teams or other social groups during rehabilitation.

General PEARLs

• Pre-surgical rehab is an essential part of recovery and can improve immediate outcome so if it is a resource available to you- use it!
• Learn the basics of your procedure such as reconstruction technique, graft type, surgeons recovery timeline, where you will do your rehab, and what you should expect going into and coming out of surgery. Knowledge is power and can give a sense of control and set reasonable expectations in a situation that is otherwise out of your control.
• Seek out positive experiences and recovery stories from other people who have had your procedure and gather as much advice as possible from resources such as ACL. Know that some people will have negative experiences, everyone is an individual, and that much of your long term recovery is in your control.
• Expect and learn to advocate for yourself or the person you are taking care of. Be vocal and honest with any needs you may have and understand that issues may come up in the immediate post-operative time that you as a patient or caregiver may have to contact your surgeon to resolve. Familiarize yourself with who to call and when *before* you leave after surgery, as well as being quick to call with any questions or problems that arise. It is better to be told that what you are experiencing is normal than to sit with the anxiety of the unknown.
• Create a folder with all relevant information: Surgeons name, procedure information, follow-up appointment dates and times, phone numbers, emergency contacts, facility of choice in an emergency situation, and any other important information. Maintain this folder throughout your recovery and add paperwork as it comes.

Days Leading Up To Surgery

• Contact support people and confirm any arrangements that have been made including but not limited to: Who is taking you to/from surgery, child or pet care, transportation to first PT appointments, meals, etc.
• Recommended Items we found essential:
  • Ice Machine (Polarcube, etc) if at all possible
    • Recommend checking facebook marketplace or other second hand options, as they cost hundreds new but can be found for $40 or so used.
    • Studies have shown these do actually reduce pain and lend to earlier mobilisation and our experience has shown this to be essential not just immediately post-op but in the weeks and months afterwards so if you *can* obtain one you absolutely should.
  • Large sweatshirt and oversized shorts for surgery day, especially if you wear a bra, as putting clothes on after surgery can be a struggle and it’s easiest to just throw on a sweatshirt and shorts that fit over your post-op bandages and brace.
    • In particular, we found a blanket hoodie to be very useful both for going home and the first few days as it could stay on when moving around/when napping.
  • Neck Pillow
    • Helps with reading or other activities during long hours spent in bed or on the couch and really helped in the first two days to prevent neck strain and provide head positioning during napping.
  • Large pillows for body positioning and elevation of the leg
    • We found cheap, giant, dog beds from places like TJ Max or Marshalls to be more affordable than specialty products
    • A large, thin, dog bed (or blanket) rolled into a tube and secured with stretch bandage or tape around the surgical leg and brace helped significantly with comfort during sleep so that the leg was padded, comfortable, and the other leg didn’t get roughed up from the brace.
  • A shower chair
    • Can be found used at second hand stores like Goodwill, or cheap online
    • Easy substitute is a chair covered in a trash bag
    • Allowed showering the second day post-op which was a huge mental boost and relieved physical discomfort and achy muscles
  • Extra large leg cast cover
    • Can be found cheap online
    • Placed around outside of brace covering the entire leg initially, we then found it easier to place on the leg and place the brace outside of the cover for the remaining healing period for the incisions: We did this after the first PT appointment when it was safe to take off the brace for short periods while laying down. We acquired a second post op brace from a friend (you can find on eBay for cheap) and it was amazing to have, as we could let it dry after showering and immediately put her post op brace back on.
  • Foldable stool
    • Great for elevating the leg during transfers, while on the toilet, etc.
  • Lap Desk
    • Great for eating on the couch or in bed, but we also found it useful as a side table for holding drinks/meds/remotes/books that could be taken to whatever room they landed in at the time
    • A small table works as well, really just anything that can be used to set things on within arms reach
  • Assortment of sodas, water, seltzers, snacks, etc.
    • There is no way to know what you will want and when, but when you want it it’s nice to *have* it available
    • Appetite often decreases after surgery so make sure to have favourites on hand so that when you *are* hungry you have it immediately before your body changes its mind
  • A big bucket
    • We used a soft plastic beach type bucket from the dollar store, it was extremely useful to have to put small items in, a small towel, a spare water bottle, extra meds, baby wipes, etc.
    • Also doubled as an emergency puke bucket, as you never know when a sudden bout of nausea might hit in the first day or two after surgery
  • Extra reusable ice packs and bags of ice
    • Your home ice maker will not be able to keep up with the demands of constant icing the first week or so
    • Reusable ones are great for ‘hot spots’ and short trips where you can’t take the ice machine
  • Extra steri-strips and assortment of bandages
    • Sometimes there’s extra leakage, sometimes your steri-strips come off and you need to slap a new one on, sometimes you’re allergic to the ones they put on you at the hospital. Always consult a medical professional, but it’s handy to have these on hand just in case.
    • We also used a bulky padded bandaid to keep the brace off the healing incisions once the large post-op dressing was taken off which helped immensely.
  • Compression sleeves
    • Aside from helping with swelling these also provided a layer of protection under the post-op brace
    • We found cheap ones at Wal-Mart (copper brand) but also just bought a cheap pair of leggings a size down and cut off one of the legs to use before getting a more expensive one once swelling had fully subsided after a few weeks. Your leg will change so cheap works great at first, then you can get something a bit more substantial when you know what you’ll need long term. Now she wears high compression socks to sleep 3 months out.
  • Slide on shoes
    • Self explanatory, bending down to put on shoes becomes a chore after surgery. Avoid flip flops or other styles that can become a trip hazard.
  • Baby Wipes/Dude Wipes/etc.
    • Wiping down after you get home from surgery can help prevent that icky feeling and restore some sense of normalcy, then can be used over the next few days before you can shower more normally
  • Lotion and chapstick
    • Hospitals dry out your skin big time, and lips are often cracked post surgery from intubation/LMA placement
  • Small, easily labelled tupperware containers
    • Regular pill containers are too small to hold pain meds, OTC pain meds, anticoagulants such as aspirin, supplements, and edibles or other small things you take with your medication. We got small tupperware boxes with lids from the dollar store.
    • We found it very convenient to have six sets of meds set up and labelled with times which meant we never missed doses and could leave the next dose of meds at bedside, take them with us when going to appointments, and keep up with what had been given and when.
  • Small notebook to record med times and other important information
  • Two extra changes of clothes already setup and ready to go
  • Compression device
    • We are athletes so we already had leg compression sleeves but these days off brand versions can be bought online cheap. Studies have shown these lead to reduced pain, increased mobilisation, reduced the chance of blood clots, and there is even some evidence they help with bone healing.
    • We used it 3 days post op and beyond and her range of motion was significantly improved after the first time.
  • A yoga strap
    • Excellent for strapping to the brace and moving the surgical leg
• If possible, pick up post-op medications prior to surgery to prevent any unexpected delay in obtaining them. If this is not possible, verify that the prescription can be filled the day of the surgery by your selected pharmacy and that it has been filled prior to leaving after your surgery. Controlled substances cannot be transferred to another pharmacy without a new prescription sent directly from the provider. You do not want to be trying to get in contact with a physician in the hours after surgery, unable to manage pain, before the pharmacies close for the night.
• Do a thorough clean of your living area, it will make the time after surgery when you cannot independently do normal activities more bearable and a neat organised space is easier to function in when your body is not cooperating. Take special attention to removing tripping hazards and clearing a wide path from wherever you plan to spend your recovery and the bathroom.
• Plan to spend the first couple of days in one spot and on one floor and set up that area the day before surgery. If you have a downstairs bathroom a floor mattress or well setup couch can be your landing pad until you are more mobile and is the easiest during the immediate post-op period. That being said, if you don’t, it’s easier to get upstairs by sliding up on your bum immediately post-op when your pain is still well controlled than realise that you have no bathroom downstairs a few hours later when the pain has started to set in. Wherever you intend to land, plan on staying there at least a couple of days and bring all your supplies to that area. Plan to lay with your surgical leg on the outside of what you are laying on, this makes transferring easier.
• Have your recovery bed setup the day before surgery and prepared for when you return before you leave the day of, including blankets and your supply table setup.
• Meal prep, whether that means cooking or getting easy to make microwave meals is up to you. You won’t feel like cooking and neither will your caretaker the first few days. High protein, easy to eat meals are key! We had chicken and broccoli casserole, egg and sausage frittata, and lots of applesauce the first few days and it was a lifesaver not to have to think about meals.
• Spend some time mentally preparing for the long haul of recovery and make long term plans that fit within your timeline. For example, we planned to attend a rugby game five days after surgery *but* planned nothing else for that day and the next day. We also planned hiking trips the next fall, and other events appropriate for her timeline along the way that could be looked forward to and keep up morale. Remember that this is temporary and that it is okay to be recovering and resting, expect hard moments and days but keep things planned so you don’t get stuck in those down places.
• Eat your favourite meal and eat well the day before surgery. Your body needs fuel to recover and fasting the day of surgery sucks. As weird as it sounds, after multiple surgeries, the pre-surgery night meal of whatever I want is one shiny thing in a crappy situation to hold on to.
• Plan for what you want your first meal to be and consider making a playlist for the ride to and from surgery. Small things, again, help maintain a sense of control and comfort in a situation where you are largely out of control and these things can be done with friends or support people in the days leading up to reduce anxiety and pass time.
• Hit the gym, take a walk, do a hike, visit places or do things you enjoy but won’t be able to do in immediate recovery! We took my partners knee to one last tournament before her surgery, it helped pass time and kept spirits high.

Day Of And Immediate Post-Surgery Phase

• Maintain fasting starting at whatever hour you are told. Some people can drink clear liquids up to a certain point, others are completely nothing by mouth. Your instructions will guide you on this.
• Before leaving home double check that everything is set up how you need it and place a blanket, pillow, drink, and snack of choice in the car. You may or may not need it but if you do it is important to have. Make sure your ice packs are in the freezer ready to go!
• Bring your own post-op snack if you are picky or have food allergies, otherwise you’re stuck with whatever graham cracker and applesauce combo the facility gives you.
• Go with the flow, or as I always say “surrender”. Feel what you feel, have a cry in the car before you go in, listen to your playlist, bring your blanket or other comfort items into pre-op, tell your support person what’s going through your mind, tell your pre-op staff how you’re doing, ask all the questions, and most importantly just do what you have to do. For some people surgery can be overwhelming and the loss of control frightening, but fighting only makes it worse, so whatever you are just be it. I’m pre-op pacer myself, but some people just snuggle up under some warm blankets and wait. Either way, just let the waves take you where they go and know you’re along for the ride. Remember that future you with a healthy joint thanks you for what you’re doing today.
• Speak frankly with your anesthesiologist and utilise any pain control or anxiety control options given to you. There is no award for least meds taken or toughest patient of the day. If a nerve block is available, know that you can request sedation for its placement, and utilise that option if at all possible.
• Caregivers should bring something to keep them entertained and be prepared for a long period without update once surgery has started. Honour your feelings as well, it can be tough to watch someone you care about go through this! Consider having someone to act as a support person for you as well through text or phone, that way you can divert your own worries or struggles to them and away from the person having surgery while still making sure you are also taken care of.
• Make sure that pain is well controlled before leaving after surgery. You have more options there than you will at home and getting things under control once pain has become unbearable can be very difficult.
• Make sure you note when the next dose of medication is due, what medication they should be taking, and write it down.
• Double check contacts from your surgeons office and add any post op paperwork to your folder in case you need the information later.
• If your post-op meal requires picking up, or your prescription, try and do that immediately after leaving surgery even if you are not hungry yet. This is the most comfortable you will be for a while and your support person will be unable to leave for at least that day and night. I have been known to peruse the big gas station after surgery in search of snacks, my partner however simply waved to the nice people at the drive through and napped the rest of the way home before eating some hours later.
• Once you get home crash wherever you plan on spending the rest of the time. Don’t have friends or family over that first day. Just go ahead and sleep through the rest of the anaesthesia and get comfortable.
• Try and keep your home cool, and consider keeping the room dim for the first few hours if not days. Sleep is precious and pain meds can make you hot, and getting hot can lead to nausea. It is better to have the home cool and the person snuggled under blankets and comfortable than be trying to cool someone down who just had surgery and got too hot and is now dizzy, nauseous, and miserable. The least stimulation for the first little while the better, and naps will happen throughout the rest of the day and over the next few days. A cool, dim place lets this happen much easier than a bright, warm place where they might be overstimulated or awakened by noise or activity.
• If allowed, try and activate the quad muscle immediately after returning home and once every few hours by having them squeeze it and feeling for contraction while in the brace. Some people will be able to begin range of motion exercises immediately and if so, make sure to do them as soon as allowed even if that means just helping them by doing gentle manual range of motion movements in the brace.
• If it’s not already on, begin continuous icing as soon as you come out of surgery either by meticulously timing the replacement of ice packs or with the ice machine. Make sure to check the ice machine, replace ice as often as needed, and keep it on *continuously* for the next few days. For us this meant I checked it at every medication dose throughout the night and added ice during that time as well. We went through frozen mini water bottles and bags of ice like crazy the first week.
• Elevate the surgical leg as high as possible, placing support under the heel and calf but not directly under the knee to promote extension and prevent more headaches with gaining range of motion later on.
  • We found that icepacks directly under the knee helped tremendously with the discomfort associated with this.
• Anticipate that bathroom trips will not be fun or easy and take them extremely slow. As a caregiver allow the person to guide you on what they need and don’t need your help with and avoid grabbing or moving someone unexpectedly. Standing, acclimating to being upright, and then proceeding to the bathroom is the best way to do things and rushing will only result in frustration for both of you. A rolling chair or wheelchair can be helpful, but for some people standing up and sitting down is harder than just moving on to the bathroom. Pay attention as a caregiver and know that it is possible they may need your help getting off the toilet or back from the bathroom so be close by and available should that happen. For the first few days do not lock the bathroom door in case of an emergency.
• Place chairs or things to sit on around your path to the bathroom, kitchen, etc. And consider a small backpack or using a rolling chair to carry items around the house.
• Once you know when your next dose is, set alarms for each time your doses are due. If using the med boxes this makes doing meds and keeping track very easy, as they are each labelled with a time and all we had to do was open the box and take the meds instead of finding each bottle and dosing each med individually each time. As the days went on we were able to re-label and time the boxes as needed and remove meds as needed or adapt to what was needed when sleeping or up during the day.
  • For example day 1 would look like:
    • First post-op doses at 4pm box: 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 5mg edible.
    • 8pm box: 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 800mg ibuprofen, 10mg edible, 12.5mg diphenhydramine (itching and sleep), stool softener, and regular night time meds.
    • Midnight box: 250mg tylenol, 5mg oxycodone, 5mg edible.
    • 4AM: 250mg tylenol, 5mg oxycodone, 800mg ibuprofen, edible (if nauseas or restless).
    • 8AM box (preparing to get up): 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 5mg edible, aspirin, stool softener, normal morning meds.
    • 12pm: 250mg tylenol, 10mg oxycodone, 5mg edible, 800mg ibuprofen.
    • Repeated on time, reducing pain med dose as tolerable, and refilling boxes 1x a day.
• If possible do scheduled tylenol (paracetamol) and ibuprofen (or another NSAID), alternating them on the dosing schedule, and take them religiously even through the night. This also goes for additional pain medications, which you will also need to wake to take through the night if you are prescribed for at least the first night.
• Staying on schedule might mean waking up in the night, but it’s better to be awoken to take meds than to wake up in pain and spend several hours trying to get it under control. You may find you seldom need them if your nerve block is in place, or you may just not need very much at all during your recovery. It is easier to trial run this after the first day by stretching out the time between doses from 4 to 6 to 8 and then potentially off entirely, but everyone will have their preferences.
• Eat a small snack with every med dose and keep emergency meds (extra pain med doses, nausea meds, etc.) at bedside as well as the next set of meds due so they can be taken when it is time.
• We found that edibles were a great addition to pain and nausea control after surgery. There are medication options available and having at least one option for nausea is advisable for the first few days after surgery when anaesthesia and medication can really make you want to puke.
• Expect absolutely nothing in the first few days post-op. Some people will feel well enough to move around, others will not be able to do anything but get up to use the bathroom. Expecting nothing is better than expecting more and being disappointed or frustrated. I would highly suggest not making plans until your first follow up 7 or so days after surgery.
• Be obsessive about icing, meds, any PT you have been given, and keeping track of appointments. Give yourself the best start to your recovery that you can and you will thank yourself later!

Hey everyone.
I'm 17 years old, turning 18 in July.
I feel kind of lost right now. I get that it's hard for 99% of the people that just turn " 18 " and are " just " entering life and learning the hardships, I've always been aware of these and prepared. I love working, like genuinely love it and spend 24/7 wanting to work.
I just don't know what or where.
So, a little " picture " of me. I was hit by a car back in 8th grade, I don't remember exactly what age that is. In result I was in the hospital for 4 months, had to " re-learn " how to walk since my body had technically forgotten it since I hadn't walked for so long. And this affected what I could do for a couple of years, and I kind of sometimes find it hard to "memorize" stuff. I had broken my left leg, spine, nose and my skull. Worst part was the skull, had to get a VERY risky operation, which thank God it went great and now I've got a very " cool " big ol' scar on my head lol. I was very sporty, I loved sports and wanted to pursue " fighting " sports such as mma and grappling as I got older, so like the age that I am now. But since this happened, Sports & MOSTLY those sports came out of the picture. I used to be a really good b'bal player, I was always put up with people 4-5 years older than me, but stupidly I was " shy " of how skinny I was. Anyways, I was SUPER skinny, and I hated that so much. And I'm basically an ectomorph, no matter HOW much I eat I genuinely don't get fat. So, I put my mind to it, ignoring what the doctors said and started working my ass out. And now, I'm much better, don't feel anything related to the accident. My head just feels a little overwhelmed when let's say I run constantly for like 5+ mins. Anyways, now I'm very very very pleased with my body. It's quite the " dream " body for my age.
I know you might be thinking what in the fuckery does this have to do with me asking for advice about " work ", I'm basically trying to tell you that if I put my mind to something nothing stops me. I don't need "motivation" to pursue something, all I need is the " start " and I just chase till finish. And That is how it is for me, 99% of the time the start is hard for me.
I guess I'm good with languages. I speak Armenian, Persian, English and a little Russian // Spanish (Can get them both to an advanced level if I find the " need " for it) & I started learning French, because I'm going to go to a French UNI and I wanted a HeadStart compared to the other students, but my mom kind of shut me down and said why are you wasting your time learning a "language" when they're going to teach you that from scratch. Instead learn something actual (she was referring to programming). I mean yeah, I guess I agree with her, since I don't know anything for the "future" to work. But anyways in no way do I want a job in anything related to languages (Like a translator etc...)
I was 15-16, I worked as a logistics operator and was able to make $1600 in a month. But the market kind of died, so did the office, so I stopped, then I focused on my exams for UNI and I'm accepted now. I will be studying Marketing, but probs will switch to Business on my 2-nd year. I have plans to get a Master's degree as-well. Either the opposite of what I study (so If I get a bachelor's in marketing, I'll go for a master's in business or if I have enough finances to pay for it myself, I'll go for CS).
So now, after I've finished everything, School exams done, UNI has been applied // accepted to and I'm just " getting " into life I'm worried day and night about work. I feel like I genuinely don't know anything to find a work for or just in general don't know anything. And I know people say there is so so much time ahead of you, you're still young and you'll find it. But I don't want to waste a single second, since each second can be spent studying or even better working.
I am decent at forex trading; I am able to make decent profit (demo account obviously) and have general knowledge of the market and know how it works basically. Of course there is still much to learn, like anyone in any field. My dad works as a trader as-well. See this is something that I enjoy, but I can't have this as a " main " job. It will be something on the side, and I need to have another MAIN source of income to be able to grow my account and get decent profit. Anyways as I mentioned that 1.6k I've got saved, I'm going to be opening an account at like $300 and I can see me making decent money from it, but still as I said that's not going to be a main " field" or "job" I don't know the word.
That's basically all that I "know" or am good at.
I talk to my mom, asking her to help // guide me. She keeps on saying programming, go become a programmer (saying this person makes tons, that person pays for her whole family and has tons of money for himself etc...). I know programming is an amazing job, mostly pay-wise, but I just don't enjoy it. I ask her to give me an idea for something else, I don't enjoy this and sarcastically she says go become a barber or a server or something. It's quite irritating because my sister has just finished her master's degree (she's 22) and makes good money, and she looks " down " at me, treats me like she's "higher?", ha-ha.
So currently, for the past week I've been studying programming (Python to be exact), and I guess I can see me finding a junior position during August or September probably. But as I mentioned, I don't really enjoy this. It's just not my thing I guess, writing stuff on and on and on all day is eh... to me.
I'm a person who genuinely loves working, just need guidance. Also, another reason why I'm so EAGER to just " jump" into life and start ACTUAL work, is because I want to get myself a car (fully paid by me) and much more stuff on my bucket list.
Sorry if this is stupidly long and half of this is just " pointless " but I guess I'm ranting and trying to get advice.
Thank you if you read all of this,
Kindly put down thoughts!
Best Regards.

Judge Patrick J. Schiltz:
“It’s surprising how many otherwise competent attorneys ‘punt’ at the sentencing hearing.”
Federal Judge Robert N. Scola:
Judge Scola suggested that lawyers take a page out of the book from our death penalty colleagues and advised,
“Don’t wait to think about sentencing advocacy,” since 99 percent of one’s federal criminal clients will be facing sentencing, start preparing the case for sentencing early on.

Hello, and thank you for tuning into my series, INDICTED AND FACING PRISON: NOW WHAT?
My name is Marc Blatstein. In 2006, I was Indicted, pleaded guilty to a felony, and lost my medical license. To call this a surreal experience is an understatement.
My goal in this series is to provide you with the crucial information you’ll need to survive and navigate these times. I’ll cover a new topic daily so you can move forward with Knowledge, Preparation, and Confidence.
Federal Judge Scola speaks from experience, and this series will highlight what you need to do while advocating for yourself.
Should you have questions, please do not hesitate to call and consider engaging my services at 240.888.7778—this is your life.
Whether you are a COO, CEO, Physician, Lawyer, politician, or anybody else, your decisions today will determine your future.
THERE IS A DOJ-HHS-OIG-OPM WHITE-COLLAR TASK FORCE, and once they're in a hunt with your name...
I will cover the do's, Don'ts, and what-ifs in this series. No one can promise that:
· I know the judge, don't worry.
· There's no rush to prepare - after you've heard that the Feds are asking questions.
· Trials: 0.2% win, you just got home – still with your world shattered
· At sentencing are those who Plea and have lost at Trial
· What can you do to defend yourself? Learn and follow…
If you're already at this point and don’t have the time to wait for my future videos, give me a call, and we can discuss your situation one-on-one. Once again, my number is 240.888.7778.

~Stages~
Indictment
Arraignment
· Release on personal recognizance.
· Bail or Bond, You’re on Pretrial Supervision; follow the rules.
· Remanded, you go directly to jail.
Plea or Trial: Your Defense
· A Well Written Personal Narrative (this is your BRAND, Story, or Autobiography).
o Why? Because the DOJ has gifted you their Story of you: Your Indictment – America Most Wanted
· Release Plan: your judge and other STAKEHOLDERS will want to know your future plans.
Trial Win, Go Home
Trial Lose and Plea
· Pre Trial-Supervision
· Personal Recognizance
· Remanded
Presentence Interview/Investigation Preparation,
· Your Personal NARRATIVE,
· Release Plan,
· Allocution Practiced
The Probation Officer who writes your Presentence Report- Your Advocate?
· They’re overworked and have no time.
· Getting all your files to them 1 week early, Comprehensive and Organized, may be appreciated.
Sentencing.
· Your Personal NARRATIVE and Release Plan, if attached to your PSR, is read by the Judge and could affect your Sentence.
· Allocution Practiced is your conversation with your Judge.
Sentence options.
· Prison, Halfway House, Home Confinement, Diversion sentencing, or a Combination.
· if you violate any arbitrary rules - it's possibly back to prison.
Probation Supervised Release.
· and then you're mostly done, except for your Felony.
· You’re still under the BOP Rules.
· You're at the mercy of your PO.
· Restitution or not, they will want you to work, volunteer, or care for a relative – but doing nothing may not work.
· No Narrative as part of your PSR; then all they will read about you is from your Indictment and BOP File.

To engage my services or to have your concerns answered, Call me Today: 240.888.7778. This is my Cell and I personally answer and return all calls. You can also get additional information on my website @: PPRSUS.com
Physician Presentence Report Service, LLC
https://reddit.com/link/1cxgrrf/video/w953yoet1u1d1/player

Hello, here I am once again! First ever Fan-Fic.
Last week I opened a poll about the type of Fan-Fic I should write (or try to), and after a good 4 days I took a look at said poll, and the overwhelming majority went for Option 2. And so I shall try my hardest to deliver, and give you all a story about Humanity entering on the Galactic stage later and being more prepared for eventual hostile encounters, and acting as such.
Let's see what I can cook up in my tired state- Some creative liberties are to be expected.
Still thinking of a Title- but this is the one I came up with.
... Also consider this a proof of concept for now, a WIP if you will, as I'm still new to writing (and not a native English speaker either) and wanting to learn as much as possible while writing anything at all- so expect word vomit. Any and all feedback will be welcomed.
Lastly, all love to for having made such an amazing universe.
===---===
Memory Transcription Subject: N/A, AI Communications Unit Terminal, UN-HQ.
Date [Standardized Human Time]: January 1st, 2300, 00:00
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<<00:15, Probe successfully launched. Explore protocol initiated.>>
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Log Update: 01:15
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Log Update: 10:15
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Log Update: 10:35
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Log Update: 10:50
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Memory Transcription Subject: N/A, Terminal Deactivated.
===---===
Memory Transcription Subject: Alan Voor-hein, UN Secretary-General.
Date [Standardized Human Time]: January 1st, 2300, 11:00
It has finally happened. A fellow space-faring civilization has been found, something we thought would happen one day- Never in my 40 years would I have guessed it would happen in my lifetime. But I guess that is the thought process for everyone who are now involved.
I had gotten the first message out of anyone. It was now up to me to head to the HQ and get everything ready for the Emergency meeting. We'll have to "discuss" our next course of action on this situation. And I use the term "discuss" lightly, because there is not a lot to discuss, rather there is much to think about as a potential next step. I'll be having these discussions with our diplomatic and military advisors. Civil advisors will be left out, as to not make the public aware of this discovery ...at least, not yet.
I have an hour to get everything ready... and I still need to travel 20 minutes to get there. Luckily I have my own companion who can be my chauffeur- who is always ready at a moments notice, essentially 24/7.
I was speed-walking.. or speedily descending more like it, down the stairs of my house. ...Don't ask me what I was doing upstairs. My hastiness almost caused me to trip while going down the stairs because I was in a such rush to get outside, I did not have a lot of time on my hands.
After reaching the ground-floor I sped-walked past the kitchen, and I took a second to contemplate about taking a quick bite from a snack, but I decided against it. After-all, I could eat at the HQ... not that I'd have the time too, but at least I could give it a shot if I arrive in time.
As my journey to the front door continued, I was met with a familiar face- namely Heluni. Heluni is my Android companion. Android technology has gotten far over the last few decades, and Androids have become more Human than ever before.
"Good morning Alan!" Heluni spoke up, her voice as smooth as the calmest oceans. I looked towards her, and greeted her in return.
"Morning Heluni- Sorry to be a bother, but I gotta use your driving expertise again today. Emergency UN meeting. It's at 12, but I would like to be there as quickly as possible. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course I can, sir. Right this way." She led the way, opening the front door, waiting on me to follow behind her. I took my place behind her as she led me towards our car that was parked outside. A classic unmarked "not noticeable" vehicle, one everyone knows screams "here is someone important" but no one seems to care about in their daily life.
And like always when walking outside, my mind wandered to the flowing shoulder long hair Heluni has, her hair was always a beautiful sight to behold. How she- an Android- managed to have the hair of a Goddess remains a mystery to me. But I learned to never question our technological prowess.
Before I knew it, I was standing next to the car, Heluni having already taken the drivers seat. I took my seat in the back. And before I even sat down, Heluni look back at me. "Ready sir?"
"Floor it." was the only thing I responded with.. and Heluni took off like it was the end of the world.
... And I'm suddenly reminded why I only used her driving skills in Emergencies. This type of driving is gonna make me sick- but it's to late now, I suppose. I gazed down to my watch, and it's 11:15. If Heluni keeps driving like this, we'll be there in about 10 minutes.
...
I'm just gonna try and keep myself calm, as to not make myself sick with Heluni her driving.
...
We drove through the city towards the UN Headquarters. Heluni was cutting through the traffic wherever she could- you'd think we would get pulled over. But the only reason we never were, was because the only symbol on this car (to at least mark it somewhat) was that the UN symbol was put in place of the car-manufacturer logo. Any officer knew that, if a UN car was speeding like this, there was something going on.
But since I still did not want the public to know about the discovery made earlier today, I'd have to come up with some excuse for this... I think I'll wave it off as a training exercise for my Android.
Noticing that I was rather quiet, Heluni chirped up. "Sir, is everything okay?"
"Hm? .. Oh yeah, just thinking about stuff. Don't worry about it."
"Sir, is it about the upcoming meeting? What is it about?"
"..Heluni, that's confidential information-"
"I know sir, but perhaps.. whatever it will be about, is making you nervous?"
... Am I nervous? I don't think I am- maybe subconsciously I am??
...
"Well, I can say it's something I have never planned on doing."
"Is it bad?" Heluni asked me, trying to inquire more out of me.
"Depends on future circumstances...."
"Will I be allowed to know more about this meeting?"
"One day you will, Heluni. But for now, that's gonna be a negative."
"I understand, Sir."
...
For the rest of our journey, no words were spoken. I was deep in thought again. Like.. what does this mean for my career? I will be the first leader in UN history who may lay the ground-works for an eventual "First Contact" between Humans and an Alien species.
I'm nervous thinking ahead that far, for all we know, they are those type of Alien we have seen in pop-culture. Either fun and loving, or utterly ruthless and genocidal. What would they think of us? ... What will we think of them? Is there a potential for a future war?
We have that last one covered at least. Humans being Humans and all- we already have a decent Space going fleet of roughly 8000 ships of various sizes. ... Just in case a Colony gets any funny ideas with their local security forces. But now knowing we might have to face off against Aliens as well, I think it's about time to ramp up the ship production tenfold.
More importantly, we have to spy on them. Luckily that probe we sent is close to their planet, so we'll just use that for any surveillance and intelligence..
My thoughts were shaken back into reality from plausible scenarios once we took a tight corner a little too fast- but before I could scold Heluni for it, there it was, the UN-HQ in the distance. A few more minutes, and we'll be there.
...
===---===
There we have it! I think I did well in my tired state for this first part. I'll keep looking through the text itself from time to time. So if any feedback, grammar, etc, is thrown my way. I can implement them right away.
I hope this is setting a decent stage for what's to come. Hope you had fun reading this!
For now, Imma chill with some music.

Long story short I was not getting the answers needed that were clearly stated in the Walmart policy on the wire. I checked with our new HR person and was told there was nothing she could do.
I sent an email to the market HR person and was given an appointment. She assured me that everything would be kept confidential and that she would speak to the store manager who was at the time on vacation
The very next day I was approached by my store HR and told my requests have been granted.
5 days later I was let go.
I was lied to, fired by a coach who had just been hired bc he is a friend of the store manager and that was it.
My coach was/is on LOA and this is a direct violation of their no retaliation/harassment/racism policy.
I honestly do not care about the job besides the fact that my position was probably the best in the store (besides store manager)
Luckily I had things printed out as I expected this in advance. It had been almost 2 weeks and I have contacted attorneys regarding my issue. Unfortunately in that world I am a peon.
I am looking for the best advice to at the very least have this store and its store manager investigated. How can one store manager hire and bring in their friends and immediately promote them to a coach position. They are all the same race and hang out in the store managers office all day.
It is a clear violation of all Walmart policies and what I was told.
To end, I had never been reprimanded, coached, talked to, or otherwise let known that I had ever done anything wrong.
What is the best recourse?
Can I send in writing to the ethics department even though I am now locked out of my account?
I have neither called open door or ethics because I feel I can be much more effective in what I write.
I do have some of the market managers direct email addresses…that would now come from my personal email.
Any constructive advice would be much appreciated.
Ty

As the dream begins, I'm preparing to enter a building, I'm feeling a sense of contentment. The structure is familiar to me. It's a place that I remember appreciating the architecture of in the past, as far back as when I was a child. I walk around a bit, smiling, thinking that I have to tell someone about this association to my past. So obviously, I haven't been to this area in a long time. In fact, I think it'll be my first experience actually walking through the doors. However, I had been in one of the neighboring buildings on many occasions. They're both similar in style, but I've always liked this one I'm going to today very much more.
I'm kind of looking around the interior in awe as I enter the building. The inside is as cool looking as the outside. It all has a kind of art deco design.
Then I notice my ex-girlfriend in the large, spacious room. She's crouched down to be at eye level with some kids; one or two, maybe three. Either they're playing a game of some kind or she's helping them to get ready to go outside, adjusting the collar of a raincoat perhaps. They don't appear to be her own children. The scene has a very kindergarten teacher type vibe.
She turns her head as she notices me, and smiles. It's not clear whether she knew I was going to be there or not. But seeing her is a total surprise to me. A pleasant one. It feels really good to finally see her again. We interact for a bit, talking. Replaying this in my mind just now, I can feel my heart soar. I have no expectations of what will follow. I'm not thinking about kissing, reuniting or having sex - things I long for in real life - so I'm solely in the moment. I realize now while writing this down that she was probably able to do that for me often. That partner had helped me to feel centered when we were together.
After some conversation in the dream I find out my ex-gf works there, in this building, for my therapist. Then the dream transitions to where I'm walking into my psychologist's office. My impression is that I felt good going in, still riding the high of appreciation for the building and of seeing my gf again. But there are some conflicts here in the timeline. I can picture arguing with her out in the lobby area too, which would have been before I entered the office. Insert shruggie emoticon here.
I haven't been to see this therapist, either in the dream or real life, in a long time either. It's like our first session of a restart of our work together (which would have been for the third round). I would be happy if this were happening in real life. But I'm suddenly angry at the guy, basically yelling at him for having hired my ex without warning me about it ahead of time. My assumption is that he knew how important she had been to me, knew how much pain I'd been in since the breakup, and knew how triggering it would be for me to see her again. That was about it for the dream.
Some context: In real life, I had been seeing this therapist while that girlfriend and I were still together, or at least supposedly still a couple, even though she'd been out of the country for months, if not over a year. We didn't "officially" break up until after I stopped going to him for therapy and she returned from overseas. However, originally I had started my second round of sessions with him because she and I had begun having an affair. One that led to my divorce (and questionably to hers). I had probably spent the entire therapy session time since then - maybe six years? - talking so much about the anxieties caused by my relationship with her that he was literally nodding off while I blabbed on and on. In fact, I had stopped seeing him in part because I noticed this happen once or twice. I never mentioned to him though that I felt like I was boring him with my complaints, and it hadn't been my intention to put a halt to our work together. But we had a break for holidays, a different opportunity arose, and I decided to try that approach for awhile. Turned out to be years. He and I haven't communicated in any way for nearly 20 years.
Feel free to interpret the dream if so inclined, but the meanings aren't lost on me at all. I'd be happy to discuss. I just had to get it out of me and preserved somewhere.

Machaon woke up, another day under the dimly lit, haze choked skies of his home world of Barbarus. As always, he got dressed, had a meager breakfast, put on his gas mask and ventured out into the toxic air to check on his crops. His father had spent a long time trying to create a strain of their main food crop so that it could resist the toxic environment of the upper levels of Barbarus, and allow more food to be grown. His father always said that they were “working today so others can eat tomorrow.” Unfortunately, his father passed away many years ago, but Machaon continued his work in earnest, doing his best to accomplish his father’s dream.. And based on the growing stalks of healthy looking crops, he had succeeded. He performed a more thorough inspection on the stems and leaves of the budding vegetables, and wrote down everything he saw in his journal. Years of his family’s work finally come to fruition.
Next on his to do list was to check the herbal garden his mother had grown. He had taken care of it when his mother was unable to, due to a debilitating sickness. The garden had a few different varieties of medical herbs, including hawthorn, lavender, aloe, and peppermint along with a mix of herbs for cooking. He checked the stems and leaves of the plants, making sure all of them were healthy, once more writing his findings in his journal. Confident all his plants were healthy, he closed his notebook and made his way to the local herbalist he was being mentored by. Machaon had spent time with a local herbalist to try and learn how to make herbal remedies to cure his mother’s sickness, and the older gentlemen needed help with certain things around his house. In exchange for his expertise, Machaon provided some of his own herbs and some extra food since the older gentleman had trouble growing enough food to feed himself.
Machaon knocked on the door, hearing a gas mask sealing and a cantankerous older gentleman call out “I don’t appreciate interruptions to my work! Best be something important!” A few seconds later, the herbalist came to the door wearing a load of protective equipment, something that seemed a little out of place for an herbalist, swinging it open. “What do ya wan — oh hey kid, come on in.” The old man opened the door, hobbling back into his abode.
Machaon walked in, taking a look around the place. It was a mess like it always was, but the old man did have his own system of organization. Calling it a system of organization was a stretch, but Machaon couldn't convince him to change his ways, so he gave up on convincing him and focused on his herbalist and apothecary training. Pushing that thought from his mind, he put on his herbalist protective gear and got ready to start the day’s training regiment. The old man looked at him, smiling “You ready kid?”
Machaon looked at his journal, stocked with papers and writings, now old and worn. He was in his thirties now, and most people he knew and cared for had passed on. His mother died not too long after he finally made a chemical resistant strain of crops, and his herbalist mentor had passed a few years after, finally having accomplished his life goal. Wiping a tear from his eye, Machaon wiped a tear from his eye, closed his journal and went on his usual ritual of checking on his plants and documenting strange things. Once he finished, he changed into his apothecary attire and shouldered his backpack full of supplies. His apothecary goal was to keep tackling the disease outbreak that had popped up nearby. A village a few days ago in the valley east of his abode had sent missives asking for medical aid, as a small portion of their population had been confined to their homes with fevers and coughs, with the occasional victim with boils on the skin. He had been working to quell it these last few days, but he was not sure if he was going to be able to completely stop it before it spread outside his control. Unfortunately, he would never be able to find out. As he began to take care of his ill patients in the sick house, he heard the sounds of a ship outside, and the clanking of boots. Something was up, and he was certainly not about to surrender his patients to whatever was outside.
Machaon walked outside, a simple pistol holstered on his hip. He may be an apothecary, but he could deal just as much hurt as he could heal. And he certainly wasn't going to run away when he had people in his stead, people that could spread infection and kill even more people. However, he soon found that his pistol would do nothing against the new arrivals. A military officer of some kind, along with some soldiers had formed up outside the sick house, the officer wearing what seemed to be an imperial army officers uniform, a green patch with three green skulls on the shoulder. The officer approached him, and began to read from a data slate. “Apothecary Machaon Strakos, on the order of Primarch Mortarion, daughter of the Emperor of Mankind, head of the Death Guard Adeptus Astartes legion, you are to be transferred to the Endurance, the Primarch flagship, for apothecary duty. You have one hour to gather your belongings.”
Machaon tried to protest, “With all due respect sir, I have patients to take care of, otherwise they’ll die.”
The Imperial Army officer looked at him with disdain. “If you do not comply peacefully, I will be forced to make you comply.” The soldiers next to him aimed their lasguns at him at the same time, their faces cold and icy.
Machaon knew that his ‘forced compliance’ would hurt his patients more than him leaving peacefully. “As you wish, officer. I will collect my supplies and return shortly.” He then returned to the interior of the sick house, gathering all his supplies into his backpack, along with the seeds for his plants. He didnt want to leave his people, but he didnt have much of a choice. A young girl who was laying on a cot by the door asked him, “Mister, where are you going?”
He wanted to tell her the truth, but he knew that wouldn't help. So he did the next best thing he could do, and he kneeled down next to her cot. “Well young lady, I’m going to take care of another group of people who need my help. There’s a lot of them, and the man outside needs my help to do it. I know you all are in good hands, so I’m going to save the people who aren’t in good hands. Feel better young lady.” He said, giving her a flower from his garden as he stood up and left. He didn't really believe what he said, at least not entirely. He would be helping people, but not the way he wanted, not on his own terms. Nevertheless, he would do his duty to his planet and his people.
Machaon walked outside the sick house and found the officer. “Officer, I’m ready.”
The Imperial Army officer looked at him coldly. “Then get on. We must reach the ship before the fleet takes off for the next expedition.” He and his soldiers then got on Stormhawk, and Machaon made sure to follow close behind them. The doors shut, and the engines roared to life, taking the ship off the ground and into space. Shortly after, they arrived in the hangar of the Endurance, and the Imperial Army company that escorted him departed, and Machaon followed quickly, not wanting to be left in the huge ship.
When he stepped out of the Stormhawk, he saw a virtual city of people working, repairing and refueling ships, unloading cargo, and new recruits moving deeper into the ship. It was certainly more people than he had ever seen in his life, but it did not phase him. He knew that whatever they were calling him for would have been big, especially if it was being led by a daughter of the Emperor. He followed the Imperial Army officer further into the ship, until they arrived at the barracks section of the ship. The Imperial officer told him simply “These are your quarters. Find a bunk.” Then he left.
Machaon was not particularly impressed with the lodging, but decided it was better to secure a spot rather than leaving it to chance. Once he found a spot, he laid down his items that were not essential to his duties as an apothecary, kept whatever else he had on his and tried to make his way to the apothecary chamber. Having no idea where everything was, he asked directions, and eventually after nearly an hour, found his way to the apothecary chamber and began to set out his equipment and find a place to grow his herbs. He knew he would need them for the battles ahead,wherever they may be.