My ex girlfriend and I were together for 2 years and 4 months. I was his fifth boyfriend while she was my first official girlfriend (since my 2nd year h/s fling isn't included).
To give a context, I met her when she was still in a relationship with here 4th bf, tho it was about to end because she had issues against the man. my ex and I started as friends, via chat and our relationship progressed too fast that after a week, I decided to admit my feelingsfor her - with the intention to just confess then move on. But No, she also admitted about her feelings. Of course, since she was still in a relationship at that time (tho they in a cool off) we decided to stop our conversation. Unfortunately we can't. We were so attached and emotionally invested in each other that we just can't let go. My point here is that, right from the start we knew that there was something unexplainably unique about our relationship. To the point that I already believed that there is indeed destiny.
However, our relationship was not as good as it seem to others. We had so many issues, some were unresloved. But the worst (I guess) was my anger issues. I easily get disappointed to persons close to me, because I expect them to understand and know me, hence, I tend to say harsh things, yelling at people around me - an attitude which I got from my own family (of course, I'm not blaming them, but just to give a context). Nevertheless, please do note that I don't hurt people physically. For so many times she asked me to change it or else she might leave. I did promise her that I'll change, I made effort to change, and I know and she knew that I made some progress. However, I couldn't completely get rid of it, I still have that anger issues whereas I still lash out when I cannot anymore control my emotions. No matter how hard I try to change, still it seems that it's a part of me, and I guess I need pychological help.
The last time that I lashed out to her was April 6, but I was able to say sorry and make it up to her (I thought I did). However, she broke up with me at the midnight of April 16th, two two days after our monthsary: She asked me if I'll be upset if she woulf have to breakup with me. That time, I realized that maybe I just had to giver her some space because I thought that we just needed SOME time apart (because we've done it before and we even broke up for a week). But the last time was different. We broke up in good terms but after a few days she started to spite me, and even started talking with other men. (Twas too fast, I believe).
So I decided to talk to her in person (because we broke up in chat because I can't see her during those time - but also note that distance was never an issue here...) and when we met, I begged her to come back. CryingI pleaded for several times, but each time she would say no - that her decision is final. Explaining that even her friendswould look down on her if she would still enter into a relationship with me, and even her mother was already upset to me (I heard it on the phone when she called my ex while we were talking). And most of all, she said that she can't anymore wait for my growth/change. We cried. But still we had amake out and hugged each other. She even told me how she loved me so much; "but I have to choose myself this time" she said.
Now, it's been a month since our breakup. But it's still so fresh for me. I still cry even today. I'm so attached to her and dependent that I don't know how to live without her. I love her so much despite hurting her emotionally. I've sworn to myself that if ever I'll be given a chance to hsve her back, I'll never mess it up again. I know I'm do stupid for doing it too late. But you know, I still hsve this hope in me, that although her words tell that it's over, yet her actions would somehow show the contrary for many reasons, such as: 1. She still keeps all the things I gave her and she asked me to keep also some of her things like her guitar (which she said would be of more use to me than her), and she asked me to keep our picture in a frame which she used to place on her desk (because she said she would just get hurt by looking at it). 2. I told her when we met that I'll be waiting for her, so long as she doesn't have a boyfriend yet, and her reply: "please don't pressure me". If I really do not anymore have the chance, she could've instead told me not to wait anymore. 3. Although she posts and reposts about relationship problems with men - and at the same time about her current happenings with a man, which they are now in a talking stage - she still get to look at my stories, posts, and I even made a playlist on spotify wherein I invited her to join and she accepted. AND: she is used in posting her thoughts and rants about our relationship problems in Twitter, but lately ever since I started sharing my sentiments also in Threads, she also did the same! She is now posting in Threads, not anymore in Twitter - and I know so that I'll het hurt, and at the same time I'll get to know (or st least, have an idea) about her current life happenings.
4.Also, she still asked me to attend her graduation.

1. Lastly, in EVERY letter she wrote to me, she told me about how much she loves me (always / forever) and how much she looks forward to marry me. I still hold on to that until now. Because of thise words and actions she have shown, I am still hoping that she will return.

Damn, I love that girl so much that I am willing to give up anything for her (even though I find it too hard to change my attitude despite my serious efforts). But.. but, I badly want to change, I just don't know how I'll do it successfully. I promised myself that she will be the last girl I will ever lov in my life. After all, I don't think there is still love left to give to another when I gave it all to her.
Please, I need your opinions. So my questions are: 1. Is it still possible to fix our broken relationship? 2. If yes, what should I do, provided that she asked me not to contact her for a while? (No specific time frame was provided). 3. My guts tell me that I have to do something or else I'll lose her entirely since she's starting to tall to other men (tho according to her are just for fun), however, the fact that she told me not to have contact with her temporarily, I'm stumped whether I should talk to her and when should I.
Thank you, I hope you'll have the patience and kindess to read this.

Demographics

• Gender: Male
• Race/Ethnicity: Indian
• Residence: Massachusetts
• Income Bracket: Upper Middle Class
• Type of School: Mediocre Public school
• Hooks: Immigrant but US Citizen
• Intended Majors & Minors: Applied Math, AI, Entrepreneurship, Engineering & Computer Science

Academics

• GPA (UW/W): 4.0/4.6
• Rank (or percentile): 8/300
• Classes: 12 APs, 3 Dual-Enrolments
• Senior Year Course Load: 3 APs (Computer Science, Chemistry, Psychology) 3 Dual-Enrolments (MIT OCW Linear Algebra, MIT OCW Multivariable Calc, English), Teacher Assistant for Calculus and Teacher Assistant for AP Physics C

Standardized Testing

• SAT: 1570 (770RW, 800M)
• AP Exams: Calculus AB (5), Physics 1 (5), Statistics (5), World History (5), Physics C: Mechanics (5), Calculus BC (5), AP CSP (4), US History (4), Lang (3)
• AMC 12: 136.5 (Top 200)

Awards/Honors

• Coca-Cola Scholar (150 Selected from 100K+)
• Harvard Guest Speaker on AI & ChatGPT in Education (6K+ Listeners). The Harvard Gazette wrote an article on me.
• MIT Hackathon 3rd place winner 2x (AI Recipe Generator & AI Therapist)
• Presented at International Education & Social Justice Conference (Peer-reviewed) at University of Hawaii
• MIT LLCipher Summer Program (3% Acceptance Rate). Invited back as Guest Speaker the following year.
• Wrote Boston Globe Article on AI & ChatGPT in Education
• AMC 12 Distinction (2x) and AIME Qual (2x)
• President's Volunteer Service Gold Award
• AP Scholar with Distinction & AP Scholar with Honor
• Multiple other Math Competition, Model UN, and Marching Band Awards

Extracurriculars/Activities

• MIT Lincoln Laboratory Summer Intern: Advanced Research in AI & Networking (1% Acceptance Rate). Internship primarily for Grad and Undergrad students. Received a return offer for summer before college.
• Writer: 110+ articles on Medium with 200K+ reads. Published by the Boston Globe and other publications.
• Antarctic Research: Climate Research and Data Analysis at UW-Madison.
• MA State House Internship: Worked for State Rep. Wrote a policy brief on AI. Promoted to Campaign Manager in 2024.
• Math Team Coach & Captain: Coach students and top scorer. 4x Regional Champions (First time in history). 2x AIME qual and 2x AMC Distinction (AMC Score: 136.5).
• Students of Color Affinity Group President: Mentor students and lead professional development workshops; presented at International Education & Social Justice Conference at University of Hawaii.
• AP Physics C & Calculus Teacher Assistant: Help teach 70+ seniors at my school (ran out of classes hence TA lol).
• Model UN President: Perfect record and multiple awards at regional conferences.
• Karate Black Belt: 10+ years and help teach classes.
• Marching Band: 2nd in USBands Nationals (3x).
• Coding Instructor: Taught kids how to code in Python and JavaScript.
• Sales Head & Data Analyst at National STEM Honor Society: Promoted STEM education to underrepresented populations.
• JV Tennis: Doubles Player

Letters of Recommendation

• AP Calculus Teacher
• Math Department Head and Physics TeacheMath Team Coach
• MIT Lincoln Lab Research Mentor (MIT Alum)
• Diversity, Inclusion, and Equity Director of my school (Harvard Alum)
• Massachusetts State Representative

Essay Summaries

• Common App: During the pandemic, I found personal growth and a deeper understanding of myself and society through writing, which led me to explore artificial intelligence and its applications, culminating in an internship at MIT and advocacy work, and inspiring my entrepreneurial ambitions.
• Community Disruption: When the pandemic disrupted my activities, I leveraged online platforms to continue learning and leading, discovering new interests in AI and entrepreneurship, and demonstrating resilience by revitalizing my school’s clubs and engaging in new ventures, setting the stage for my future in innovation.
• Additional Information: Links to various articles and videos, and other activities and awards.
• Supplementals: Some were very reflective about my identity, activities, and goals in life. Others were light-hearted and quirky. They were very personalized to the school and emphasized how I fit in, what I would bring to the school, and how I would use the school as a catalyst for my entrepreneurial ventures.
• Additional Uploads: Uploaded my Resume, portfolio of Articles, and a summary of my Research at MIT Lincoln Lab.

Interviews

• Harvard (REA): Great Conversation and said Harvard would have to fight MIT for me. 9/10
• MIT: My Interviewer was very disinterested and didn't care. It was 15 minutes and he said if I don't get in then who would. 6/10
• Princeton: It was a great conversation and said he would fight for me. 8/10
• Yale: It was also a good conversation and she said she would fight for me. 8/10
• UPenn M&T: Guy kept asking technical questions and I was lost. But in the end, he said I did good and he would fight for me, even though interviews don’t matter too much. 7/10
• Dartmouth: Lady was super impressed and said if I don’t get in then she is quitting doing interviews for Dartmouth. 9/10

College Results
Accepted

• WPI (with Max Scholarship, Half off)
• UW-Madison
• Northeastern (with Max Scholarship, Half off)
• Georgia Tech for CS (Early Action)
• Cornell (Meinig Family Cornell National Scholar)
• Dartmouth
• Duke
• UPenn (Waitlisted M&T)
• Harvard (Waitlisted → Accepted)
• Princeton (Committed)

Waitlisted

• UMich (Early Action)
• Vanderbilt

Rejected

• USC (lol)
• Yale
• Stanford
• MIT (This one hurt)

Reflections:
I'm super grateful and happy with my decisions. I have committed to Princeton, and it definitely is the best fit for me. College results this year were very random, but I couldn’t be more thankful to get into the #1 undergraduate university. I was worried that since most of my application was MIT-related (Research, classes, Letters of Rec, Awards, Activities), other universities would think I was going there and reject me. College results were super random and stressful, but it worked out better than I could have ever imagined. It's funny how I got waitlisted and rejected from all my target schools (Vandy, UMich, USC) but then got into most of my reach schools.
Advice for Future Applicants:
Be authentic. There is no formula that gets you in. Sure, you have to do a couple of things like getting good grades and SAT scores and having some unique activities and awards, but especially for Top 10 schools, you just have to be unique and authentic. I didn't have any connections or background (like private school and college counselor) that provided me with opportunities. I was literally the first kid ever from my school to get into Princeton. I was authentic and hardworking, did stuff I enjoyed, and one thing led to another. I also spent a lot of time on essays and my application. 50% of the work is actually doing stuff, and the other 50% is showcasing it in your college application. Also, have balance in life. I had a lot of fun in high school and enjoyed the stuff I did. Live life with no regrets. Feel free to DM me.

Hi everyone,
My fiancé and I are having a big wedding event at my parents’ house in late Septembeearly October (9-10 months post engagement, 4-5 months before our first wedding ceremony). We are completely unsure what to call this event because:
-We already had a small engagement party thrown by my soon to be in-laws. -We aren’t sure if we should call it a “wedding shower” because we don’t want gifts. We’re doing a destination wedding in Mexico and are considering the travel portion to be our gift. However, from what I’ve researched this title seems to make the most sense given the timeline.
And once we have the wedding event name: -When do I send invitations? -Should they be sent via formal stationary or digitally?? -How soon before the event should I send invitations?
And, for context: I always imagined myself doing city hall + a reception or even just eloping, but that’s not at all what my fiancé wants. My fiancé is southeast Asian and in his culture weddings are BIG. I’m not immersed in wedding stuff because I’ve never given it much thought beyond what dress I’d like and maybe some party decor. Now we’re doing city hall for paperwork (and probably a mini celebration like a dinner or small party afterwards), a symbolic ceremony in Mexico with a 200+ guest list, and another ceremony in Sri Lanka for his relatives/friends who can’t come to Mexico 😅😅😅 I don’t understand how people seem to have the timeline of events down and know all of the etiquette of invitations, parties, etc figured out what seems to be the second they get engaged. I’m lost (and envious of those of you who have this stuff down)!!

I'm extremely upset at my husband. To begin with, we're first time parents to a beautiful 9 month old baby girl.
In our family, I'm the only one working. I work remotely, and on a different timezone. Just so you get an idea, we're in the US and my work is in Europe.
Although I work, I still pull my weight when I'm not working.
My husband and I have had many disagreements over the same topic. I'm fine to host people over every now and then during the weekends when I'm not working, but I need a couple of days notice, so I'm prepared in advance to have things to offer for the guests, and just so I can make a plan for having a bit of time to relax for myself after working everyday until midnight or past, and to manage handling walking the dog and attending to the baby as well as my basic hygiene needs.
My brother-in-law was visiting us this weekend, with the purpose of seeing his niece, seeing my husband and helping my husband to fix our fence. We've planned this for weeks by now.
As a last minute notice, my husband decided to invite his friends over as well. Summer is already here, so it's quite warm outside. Our house has extremely good insulation, since winters in our state get pretty cold. So inside the house, it's quite hot all day and all night long, mostly during summers.
I did ask to not have more people over in such a short notice, as this is my only free time and I would like being able to enjoy outside in our terrace with our dog and baby as well, and then just relax there once the baby is down for her nightsleep. We have a baby monitor, so being on the terrace while she's sleeping her night sleep is not a problem, since we can carry the monitor with us to the terrace and actively monitor her.
As I mentioned to my husband, I would like a few days notice in advance, and I do not like spontaneously bringing many people and me having to be locked inside on dog-sitter duty. I say dog-sitter because our dog is extremely playful and he would not stop going around from person to person to be played with and get pets. Although this isn't a bad thing, if we leave him inside the house while being on the terrace when we have guests, he would just cry at the door to come out with us, and he'd wake the baby, who is very hard to put to sleep since she's teething at the moment.
Things ended up going exactly how I thought they would, and I ended up spending the night locked inside the house after I put baby to sleep. At around 2am I was extremely exhausted and wanted to go to sleep, but baby woke up due to teething pain, and she was inconsolable.
I tried feeding her and rocking her to sleep, but she refused to go back to sleep. At this point I was extremely exhausted and I felt like I was falling asleep while I was holding the baby. On top of that, I have PCOS and I finally got my period after weeks of being in premenstrual pain and taking painkillers daily. I called my husband to come inside and let him know that baby was awake and I was extremely tired and in pain, so I needed him to take over now so I could get some rest.
It took 2 more hours for him to come inside the house and help. I'm extremely upset, and everyday more and more I feel like he does not listen to my needs too, but only to his own and complains about not being able to see friends every other weekend, and how his parents were able to have more of a social life than we do when they had their babies.
I think that every baby is different. Every person adapts differently to bring a first-time parent, and each family is different, none function identically to the other.
Some important info: his family lives in a different state and I have no family around.
I have already burned through my savings to be able to take care of our family expenses and basic needs. I feel extremely overwhelmed, and I don't feel like I'm asking for too much. Just some notice in advance, and to listen to my concerns and needs a bit more.
I feel like I've been ambushed for disaster this weekend, and have expressed I was upset in front of my brother-in-law last night, and now I feel like neither my brother-in-law nor his friends like me anymore. On top of that, he asked that another of his friends with partner visit here during the next weekend.
I feel like I have so much on me, and I need a break. I don't feel like I want to entertain anyone at all during next weekend. I need a breather. I need a weekend to relax and get to do something other than waking up to take care of duties, work, sleep and repeat all over again. But I don't feel like he understands this. Everytime I try to bring it up, it seems to be about him not seeing his friends as much as he wants to, and so on.
I feel like I'm at my wits-end. I don't know what am I supposed to do anymore. Am I asking for too much? Am I unreasonable? What can I do to improve our communication and how can I make it to meet somewhere on middle ground?
All answers are appreciated.

If there’s one thing about me, I’m gonna HOLD THE LINE. 😂
I lock the door of every room I enter. I don’t trust these kids self control or manners; they will just bust up in here. I don’t play that. Our bedroom and the guest room (aka my bedroom because I have to have my own room too lol) are off limits to children unless they are invited in. They must not have those rules at BMs but that’s not my problem. I don’t want kids in my bed, I don’t want them to be able to just come into the room whenever they want. I show them the same respect and I NEVER go in their room. Also, it’s not like they are young young. They don’t need to be able to just run in here IMO.
Usually on weekends sks are here, I naturally wake up before everyone and move from the master with SO to my guest room because I don’t want to be woken up or bothered. I chose to be childfree and I will sleep in on weekends just like I planned.
This morning I didn’t move to the guest room. SK woke up, knocked on the door, I nudged SO. He did not want to get up. He told sk to come in. I said “she can’t, the door is locked and I don’t want kids in my bed. It’s weird.”
Whewwwwwww child the attitude with which this man got up. 😂😂 Mumbling under his breath, opened the door, stepped out, slammed it shut.
Bro TOO FUCKING BAD. We all make choices in life and we must reap the rewards or deal with the consequences. Not my fault you decided to have kids even though being a parent does not suit you and you don’t like it. All I know is I made GREAT choices for me and was self aware enough to know I didn’t want to have to do any of the parenting stuff.
Vent over. Im gonna go back to snuggling blissfully. Rested and unbothered ☺️

I am self applicant and I have 2 questions, first one related with the possibility of my application:
PhD in theoretical physics (BSc physics and Mathematics) 2 postdocs 2 papers 30 cites 8 years of experience lecturing in university (teaching courses in physics and math) Several experiences to teaching to both STEM careers and bussines Salary above the average Other's work evaluator
But aside from having some international events as a speaker, all of my experience is in Mexico.
The proposed endeavor is related with STEM education: postgraduate studies, college and science outreach.

1. Do you think the profile has possibilities?
   
2. I am living in Mexico. How to apply from Mexico for I140. Can I send my application directly to the USCIS office in Texas or consular process? I understand that if I get approved I will need to do the the CP for the GC... But what about the I140 application? It doesn't appear in the Mx USCIS office webpage.
   

I have everything almost written, it's just metter of writing the cover letter and where to send it. Thanks in advance!!

I think a lot of good looking men, or men who grew up being complimented over their looks, are assumed to have bad or dull personalities before opening their mouth. I also think they are judged a little more harshly than men who don’t have as many traits one could deem as “good-looking,” like a sharp jawline, prominent cheekbones, symmetry and proportional features, eyelash length, etc.
We all know what good-looking is; it’s why there’s so much overlap in the features of actors and why so many actors have so-called, “lookalikes.” Men know what a good looking woman looks like.
I notice that my girl-friends NEVER choose the man they are most attracted to, which is always a man that has these features and looks like he could be on camera.
It’s never really about them having a bad personality, being unavailable, etc. They take themselves out of the running so to speak by making assumptions, and they HATE, hate, hate, hate, the idea of competing with another woman, which is a wee bit hypocritical as some of them entertain multiple men, but they’re well within their right to do so.
I love my friends, but I think they set themselves up for marriage failure and disappointment by doing this. I’m not saying looks are everything, but how does a personality set itself apart from another’s, when both are “good?” I see this sentiment online, and it’s an interesting one, but I think looks alter how ppl judge your personality.
I have one friend, let’s call her Tasha; she thought a keynote speaker at one of our latest events (both event planners at same org) was extremely handsome. And objectively speaking, he was. He gave a great speech. During our networking happy hour, I invite him over to our table. He’s single too.
He’s charismatic, hilarious, he’s a good listener, and she’s smiling during the whole situation, but it’s a closed lip, squint the eyes smile; one of those smiles you give a kid when he thinks he’s done something genius but it wasn’t. But she starts doing something uncharacteristic; she only turns to me and talks, and she’s low volume. It could almost be classified as rude.
She’s a lot more reserved than she usually is around this guy. I asked her afterward whether she liked the guy and she kept it simple in a way where she made it known that it was an uncomfortable subject; a very curt, “yeah.”
Now, we’ve hung out with men that Tasha NEVER thought were cute, and were much more crass in nature, less motivated and unhygienic, but she would act like they were the greatest thing since sliced bread. However, post hang out, she would complain about them.
This is behavior that most of my girl-friends exhibit. It could be a regional US thing, maybe.
I think many women need to feel comfortable above all else for a relationship to work for them. I think some men can be “too complete” for some women to deal with.
Thoughts?

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Rudy Giuliani got more than cake and presents for his 80th birthday bash – he was also served justice.
The former New York City mayor was tripping the light fantastic with pals in Palm Springs Friday night when he was intercepted outside the party at the home of top GOP consultant Caroline Wren by two officials from Democratic Arizona Attorney General Kris Mayes’ office, sources told The Post.
The pair served Giuliani with a legal notice of his Arizona indictment for allegedly being involved in a plot to overturn the 2020 election in favor of ex-President Donald Trump.
Most of the 200 guests were gone by the time the duo showed up around 11 p.m., but some of the stragglers began screaming – including one woman who cried as Giuliani was handed the papers, according to sources.
Giuliani, however, was not fazed, insisted a source close to the ex-mayor.
“It actually wasn’t that big of a deal,” the person said.
The party’s guests — who received gold-and-black invitations featuring a photo of Giuliani in a tux and another of him wearing aviator shades and a USA hat — included embattled former Trump advisors Steve Bannon and Roger Stone.
“While crime in Arizona is at an all-time high, the Arizona [AG’s] office felt it was a good use of resources to send multiple agents across the country to storm an 80th birthday party like it was Normandy,” fumed Wren.
Giuliani seemed to be enjoying himself throughout the party – celebrated 11 days before his actual birthday on May 28 – even posing for a photo with a bevy of blonde bombshells that he posted on X while taunting Mayes.
https://nypost.com/2024/05/18/us-news/rudy-giuliani-served-with-arizona-fake-electors-indictment-during-80th-birthday-bash-in-palm-beach/

I had a strange relationship with deconstruction as my dad was trained at a university level to do apologetics. He was an LDS chaplain in the Army, and every night for scripture study, we got discourses on the nuances of our faith and justifications for every question we ever had. I didn’t swear until I was 18 years old, or drink caffinated anything until about that time as well, because it was never a matter of justification. It was what my family, my tribe, my people did, to go to church on Sunday, and to be worthy. I was senior patrol leader and assistant to the bishop if that clarifies who I was. I didn’t have “God will reveal it in due time” parents. I had “Here’s the answer, here’s contemporary discussion about it. Here’s some reading material if you want to learn more” parents, except for they were wicked smart, and had biased conclusions.
I was called to serve in the Mexico City East mission. Shortly before opening my mission call, I broke up with my girlfriend at the time. i left BYU-I and went home to prepare. I received my endowments after lying to my stake president about my worthiness to enter the house of the lord. I came clean, and he threatened to not let me go out for a year because I was unclean. The prick made me talk to a therapist to be cleared for the mission field. The therapist had a brain and let me go out. When I was giving my mission farewell speech, I wrote it to include the teachings of many religions in it. I had drawn inspiration from the 13th article of faith “We believe all things, hope all things-“ and wrote a poem about how Adam and Eve related to the Resurection and Atonement of christ. My dad tells me the stake president was shifting in his seat like he wanted to pull me down from the pulpit. Prick.
The CCM was a pleasure to attend because of my district. The guys in my district there held a secret thanksgiving feast after hours when we were supposed to be in bed with food we had smuggled out of the cafeteria. We had look outs so we wouldn’t be caught by the patrolling teachers. My district was placed under surveillance because of politics against our spanish teacher who we could tell actually cared about us, and we were transferred into a classroom with one sided mirrors, and microphones hanging from the ceiling. An apostle came to speak to the entire CCM, and I thought we would get a chance to meet with him directly, or that he would be even remotely accessible in some way. He was kept away from us, separate and removed even though we had the same mission. I played a lot of volley ball, and got into shape enough that I touched the rim of a basketball hoop for the first time while I was there.
My first companion was a native speaker, and liked to spend the mornings in the cyber (Internet Cafe). He would make sure I was on LDS.org while he looked at softcore porn on instagram. We would spend hours there, and I was disappointed that this was the mission.
We went to a previous investigators house, and while there, we saw preparations for an animal sacrifice. These guys were putting alcohol, cocaine, and blowing smoke onto a white chicken, and placed in into a cardboard box with a bunch of black chickens. They showed us a room full of weapons, with blood and feathers strewn all over the floor. We noped the fuck out, and went home.
I requested an emergency transfer after spending most days in the cyber, watching my companion deface JW’s property, and being an all around dick to me by telling me how to shower and how to sleep.
For his replacement, the person that would help me with his bastion of knowledge, they gave me a white guy who spoke as much Spanish as I did because he was only a transfer further into his mission than me. They made this poor kid senior companion to me before his first transfer was over. Why? Because the kid was a workaholic.
The first thing this elder and I did when we got to our apartment was to pick up and leave to go to the house of a member who had just died. We sang at the wake. I sang in a language I didn’t know, for people I didn’t know, with a companion I didn’t know. We sounded pretty damn good. The elder began setting appointments with the non-believing family members during the service. I just sat and watched the mindless kids chase the family dog.
This elder skipped lunch every day, and made me do the same. We knocked every door in our area twice that transfer. One time, he got very sick, and was delirious out in the sun with me while we were walking. I made us go home for lunch that day, and he made me promise to wake him up after thirty minutes so we could get back to the Lord’s work. Three hours later he woke up, chewed me out for letting him sleep that long, and then begrudgingly thanked me for making him rest.
One time, while walking, this Elder expressed to me that he also had some questions, but he was afraid to share the details because he knew my own testimony was fragile. I pressed him for details of his plight, and he revealed to me the darkest part of church history that he had learned while we were in the CCM, that Joseph Smith had drank alcohol while in Carthage Jail before he died. Thoughts of Fanny Alger, of Mountain Meadows Massacre, and of my own mother’s rather recently implemented looser interpretation of the word of wisdom all flashed through my head. This guy was supposed to be my teacher? All I could do was express how sorry I was for his confusion, and told him to have faith. Heaven knew I couldn’t help him.
One night with this companion, it was storming hard, and the streets were flooded. This guy refused to let us go home. We climbed along fences to avoid getting our already wet shoes soaked, and waded through a foot of water to get to the doors that were slammed in our faces. There was a loose wire on a door bell, and when I rang it, I was shocked by the completed circuit the water made. Rejection after rejection piled up. Finally, my “senior” companion said that this was the last row of houses. On the last house of the last row, there was a family that was all deaf. The father opened the door, and was suprised to see us and didn’t know who we were. I remembered the sign for Jesus from my grandparents who started and ran the ASL endowment ceremony in the Saint George temple. The family was thrilled we knew the sign. When I asked if we could come in, the family politely waved goodbye and closed the door on our faces.
Another time when it rained, something fell into my eye. It was one of those freak nature accidents, and small enough that I couldn’t figure out how to get it out without a mirror. The thing stayed wedged in the corner of my eye for hours before we got home and I could finally get the foreign object out. Looking at it on my finger, I could see it was a small green spider. Days later, still in pain, I pulled what I can only assume was accumulated webbing from the spider that I’d crushed against my eyeball off of my lower eye lid. The pain stopped after that.
I bought a $500 camera. It was stolen within a month.
This Elder and I had the good luck before transfers to baptize two children. They would have been baptized anyways, so I didn’t do any actual converting, but I taught a few lessons, got in the water and did the dunk. Bucket list item, check.
I didn’t have enough time for laundry on P-Day, so I’d wash my outfit and dry in on the radiator through the night. Transfers happen, and my new companion lied to our land lords about the electricity bill, paying it in full but not giving a reason as to why it was so high. I didn’t care anymore, I just needed something clean to wear, but these land lord had treated me and my previous companion well, better than the previous landlord who had stolen our cleaning supplies. I felt these people deserved honesty. My senior companion capitulated eventually, and he and I butted heads regularly after that on the morality of things. I think in hindsight he was a smarter and better man than I was.
The new land lords, the “Lagunez Family”, were wonderful. They included us in their activities, and I felt like I had some people in my corner. When I eventually came home from my mission, a daughter of the family had written me a goodbye letter. She is currently serving a mission. They made some great music, and I have “Infiltradors” on CD, the official name of the band the father of the family was a part of (he was the drummer).
I knew the whole area by heart by that point, so I navigated us to our appointments. Half of the landmarks I watched for to know our location were interesting buildings with unique colors. The other half of my landmarks were dead dogs whose decaying corpses had become second nature to see. I began marking how much time had passed by how deeply a certain dog on a certain dirt path’s chest was caved in.
There was an apartment complex in my area that I had been told not to proselytize in because “It’s dangerous.” Turns out, those people didn’t have any money, so the church didn’t want them. That complex was past the dog and to the east about ten blocks.
My companion and I knocked on a door, and visited a man who was missing his legs. His daughter was there, putting dirty water on the aching wounds. He had a single room for a house, and wheezed when he spoke. He couldn’t afford medication. He still went out and worked all day for his daughter, and gave her whatever money he made, trusting her to keep him alive somehow. The church expected this man to pay tithing. The church expected me to tell this man to pay tithing.
I got the chance to hike up a mountain. At the top, I played chess with a chess set I’d procured from one of the best rapid chess players I’ve ever met. He had been the ward mission leader. He was a good man, a good father, and I wish him the best.
I found another man who was deaf and spoke sign language. I sat with him, and convinced him to come to church all by myself while my companion talked with some tienda tender. I was so excited because this was my own personal project and it was going well. The man came to church, and I sat with him through sacrament meeting. In Sunday school (I can’t believe I did this), I accidentally drooled on the guy. I was just talking so he could read my lips, and I guess I forgot to swallow at some point because a dolup of spit landed on his arm. I apologized profusely, and he played it off, but I never saw that investigator again.
My companion and I knocked a door one day, and a man answered. He wore tattered clothes, and maggots were burrowing into and out of his feet. He muttered something about the stars, missing his wife, and he began to tear up. My eyes stung from the stench. The door closed. Somehow, I knew the man would be dead in a matter of weeks.
I had lost hope that I was doing anything worth while. I looked down on the Doc Martins that had stayed with me five months at this point. I was angry with myself for being so useless in the field, angry with the church for giving me leaders that didn’t listen to my needs or perspective, angry with my mom for drinking while I had to teach people that it was a sin, angry with my dad for giving me the skills and knowledge to justify anything, even pedophilia in the early days of the church, to the point where I could look someone in the eye, and knowing the kind of man Smith was, tell them he was a good man and a true prophet of God. Suddenly a man approached us. He said he recognized us as missionaries, and asked about our message. This never happened. People didn’t just come up to us unless they were crazy or dangerous. But this was a public place, and this guy was genuine. My companion talked to him, and gathered his story, but I was plotting something else. I was done with not caring about these people in a way that mattered. I was tired of walking in another man’s shoes, a man who wasn’t me, who believed different things than me. The chopped leg, the rotting dogs, the infested feet, it all swirled into a single thought in that moment.
What would Jesus do?
I walked over to the man, and in broken Spanish asked him to stand next to me. He did so, and I compared my shoe size to his foot. It was a perfect match. He protested, but I didn’t let him get a word in edge wise. I took off my shoes, put them on his dirty feet, and laced them up nice and tight. Those shoes had cost a ton, and had been meant to last the whole mission. All I had left at this point were my fancy dress shoes that gave my blisters back at the apartment. I didn’t care. I walked home in my socks that day, happy as a lark.
Covid-19 hit a month later. I was one of the few they brought home instead of quarantining. After having served only 6 months. I told God if he wanted me to stay home, he’d have to make them release me.
They released me. I think I was one of maybe a hundred missionaries that were released due to Covid. The church realized their mistake pretty soon after I was released. Once Covid infrastructure began to develop, they didn’t release any more. I guess I didn’t serve a full two years, but I did serve a full mission.
My brother served, and he nearly killed himself due to intense depression brought on by Covid quarantine and poor leadership (I’ve got a few mission president stories, but those are for another time).
I learned lying to someone’s face from my mission, and spent the rest of my time at BYU-I as “nuanced” until the last two years, over which the most epic hoe phase imaginable became my new mission. I spent those years terrified of getting a call from the honor code office.
I’m married now, with my degree irrevocably in my possession. I have friends and loved ones that are in the church and are working on their mission papers. I’m beginning to feel powerless again. I’m seeing the decay again, not on legs, feet, or dogs anymore, but in the souls of the people who the church raises to do their dirty volunteer work. I see them like the animal sacrifices I saw being prepared. I’m not sure what shoes I have left to give to those people that I know are going to be in pain.
My parents are out completely now. It was a long time coming, but they are out and so much happier. I’m working on building a new relationship with my family, one based off of the fact that we won’t be together forever, so we have to make the most of our time together now.
Happy Sunday guys, best of luck to you all. And most importantly, chupa la piña.

Hey, so I've been using FL Studio in order to create more dynamic mumble-speak esque voicelines for my games (for those not familiar with the specific term, it's the Banjo Kazooie 'every letter is a different toned SFX' approach). I originally did it this way so I could manually create a few specific 'audio phrases' using the SFX of choice, pitched up and down to communicate mood and intonation.
However, I want to go a little further, and I'd like advice on how I should go about this, as an amateur audio engineer.
Right now, I've mostly just been importing the 'voices' of specific characters into FL studio, fiddling around with the settings until I like it. However, I don't really like how my 'voicelines' are just one note/tone, and I wanted to add more into the mix. I want to do this by effectively, getting more samples from whatever I was using as the character's 'voice' and thus creating different syllables for them.
Problem is, I'm not sure how I should go about this more efficiently in FL Studio's workflow. I've previously just used one track per voiceline, but I'm not sure how I can coordinate multiple different instruments on the same track as I'm very inexperienced with music/sound software.
I'm not even sure if it's possible to have multiple instruments on the same track - but the process of switching back and forth on the instruments to try and coordinate it sounds like a really tiring affair, as if I want to make even the most minute change, I'd have to flip between two tracks over and over to make adjustments. Am I missing something? Either way, I hope someone can point me toward a better approach.

I found out I was pregnant in October 2022, and in July 2023 I’ve delivered my little girl the whole time I had my insurance from my employer that I had had for years. My husband had picked up insurance on me as a secondary insurance. I had no problems with billing the entire time I was pregnant. I had to see specialist have extra scans, bloodwork, etc. anytime I had anything to pay out of pocket. I did so in office and then after my daughter was born, I went for my check up. I was told I had an outstanding balance, which didn’t make sense because I always paid so I followed up and come to find out my primary insurance that had paid all my bills had unpaid everything. I had never heard of this so I I tried to get a hold of the insurance company, but I had already terminated the insurance as I did not go back to work after I gave birth. They did not want to speak with me because I no longer remember and give them my information. Finally I found my member number. I was able to talk to someone explain the situation to them. They argued with me. I told them that this was my primary it always has been. Why would they pay my bills? I never got any answer they told me they would put it down as a dispute And a request for repayment, but I was never sent a letter or informed them paying any bills. They’ve never told me if they are going to cover any of the bill. I’ve tried to call back and talk to someone but I just had to keep telling the same story over and I never get anywhere. I’m getting bills and collection notices for other doctors offices. Come to find out they have unpaid every bill. They have paid from the date that I took a pregnancy test at the doctor, but I was never informed of anything. Just bills and collection notices. How should I resolve this? Should I reach out to a lawyer or should I write them a letter? If so, would anyone have any sample letters? I could try to follow my credit score is in the 805 have worked very hard to get it there and I don’t want the years worth of medical bills piling up. Also, my daughter is 10 months old now I’m worried that my insurance is going to tell me. I’ve waited too long to dispute this, but I’ve tried to contact them over the phone several times and I get nowhere with them.

33m, for reference as to how long it's been since then.
I work night audit at a large Philly hotel, so I often deal with rude guests, drunks, and homeless people who are either mentally ill or nodded out on opioids. You quickly learn not to let it get to you.
But about an hour ago, a woman who was on at least speed, gurning and twitching her head off her neck, stormed in and demanded I let her in with a fake reservation number. She steadily rose her voice as I kept reiterating I couldn't—and it was ten hours before check-in time anyway—which escalated to four-letter words, calling me an asshole, etc. She persisted through my telling her to leave, threatening to call security, then calling security. I'll admit I engaged with her for longer than I should've because it's rare you get a customer so overtly shitty you're justified in arguing back, though. Almost cathartic.
That is, until that word came out and I yelled at her to "Get the fuck out" so loud I startled the lobby. Didn't get in trouble because everyone else saw how she was acting, though. So, minor W in the end?
That insult really hits different after you find out you're autistic, though.
(As a side note, that's only the third worst customer story I have. The other two are just dark, so I rarely share them. Hotel night employees witness things.)

Washington Journal: May 19, 2024

7:00 thru 10AM. Every. Single. Day.
"Join us with your calls and comments on social media as we review the latest news headlines out of Washington." The Washington Journal is C-SPAN's early-morning news show--with some body heat. During the 'Public Forum' segments, viewers are invited to participate by phone-in or social media. (BTW, getting yourself on the air entitles you to special flair; just come back to the thread and boast!)
Variety is the hot-sauce of life. Besides, we dig the calls.

Today's Guests:

Talmage Boston discusses his book, "How the Best Did It: Leadership Lessons From Our Top Presidents and Dmitri Alperovitch discusses his book, "World on the Brink: How America Can Beat China in the Race for the Twenty-First Century."

Line-up: with links to the individual segments where you might check a real-time transcript, create clips (Show us yours to get special flair!) or watch/share individual segments. This page is viewable a bit ahead of time.
Home page: The 'just press play' page gets going at 7am sharp with no previews or running transcript.
Cable:
C-SPAN 1: (Use your provider guide for channel line-up.) Good for a co-watch with Mom. Ring her up! Have her turn on her set; that it's this or no calls at all. :)
Audio only:
C-SPAN Radio: Livestream audio. Try your smart speaker even: 'Play C-SPAN radio live.'
If you'd rather get the app, go straight to the download page: C-SPAN Now
Extra:
C-SPAN Wiki

As the last rays of summer sun faded into dusk, I stood at the threshold of a new chapter, my heart racing with anticipation and a touch of apprehension, as I prepared to embark on my first day as a senior in high school. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the crispness of autumn in the air, signaling the end of carefree days and the beginning of a journey filled with new challenges and opportunities. With my backpack slung over my shoulder and butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I took a deep breath, ready to step into the halls of academia, where friendships would deepen, memories would be made, and the path to my future would unfold before me. As I walked down the main hallway to my first period class, a girl I had never seen before bumped into me, as she was walking hurriedly down towards the cafe. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, as she bent down to pick up one of my binders. “Watch where you’re going, good God.” I huffed back. “Geez… it was an acc-“ I cut her off- “You look familiar… have I met you somewhere before?” “Umm. I don’t think we’ve ever met before. Maybe you should get your vision checked.” she replied back, annoyed. “Whatever, asshole.” I sighed. “Excuse me?” She said, raising an eyebrow.” I could’ve sworn I had seen her somewhere before… maybe I was losing it. “Look, this is going to sound really, really weird, but in the near further, you’re going to be asked to play a game. You HAVE to say no, or really bad things are going to happen…” I took a step back, looking the girl up and down. “You sound schizophrenic. I’m going to class.” I said, turning back towards my classroom door. As I turned to walk away, her words echoed in my mind, a strange sense of foreboding creeping over me. But dismissing it as nonsense, I pushed through the classroom door, eager to start the day and put the strange encounter behind me. The day passed in a blur of introductions, syllabi, and catching up with friends. Yet, despite my attempts to shake off the odd encounter, the girl's warning lingered in the back of my thoughts like an unsettling whisper. As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I found myself retracing my steps through the bustling halls. Glancing around, I caught sight of the mysterious girl disappearing into a throng of students.Curiosity gnawed at me, and against my better judgment, I followed her, weaving through the crowd until I spotted her slipping into a secluded corner of the school courtyard. Approaching cautiously, I cleared my throat, "Hey, um, sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to come off as rude." She turned to face me, her expression guarded yet somehow relieved. "It's fine," she said, her tone softening. "I understand. It's not easy to believe something so... unbelievable." I frowned, puzzled by her cryptic words. "What do you mean?" Taking a deep breath, she met my gaze squarely. "I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to listen to me. That game I mentioned earlier—it's real. And it's dangerous. People are disappearing, and I think... I think you're next." My heart skipped a beat as her words sank in, sending a chill down my spine. "What do you mean I'm next?" “I have to go. It’s Friday, I need to go pick up my little brother from school. We can talk on Monday… just, trust me.” She said, rushing towards the parking lot. As the days passed, I found myself haunted by the girl's warning, the memory of her urgent plea lingering like a ghost in the back of my mind. But try as I might to push it aside, the sense of impending doom only grew stronger with each passing moment, a shadow looming ever larger over my once-ordinary life. Sunday morning rolled around, and I was still as anxious as ever, when suddenly an option appeared in front of me. “Would you like to play Truth or Dare?” It read. I sat there for a second, absolutely dumbfounded, thinking I had completely lost it. The two options, lingering in front of me. If I were to complete all of the dares and truths, I would win.. whole million dollars!? “The dares couldn’t be that bad, especially for a million dollars, right?” I thought to myself, hovering the “yes” option. As the option appeared over her head, my heart pounded in my chest, a sickening sense of dread settling over me like a suffocating blanket. But as the stakes grew higher and the dares more dangerous, I found myself unable to resist the lure of the prize dangling just out of reach. One by one, I completed each dare. Confessing my love to my crush, licking a toilet bowl, chugging a bottle of vinegar… everything seemed, moderately alright.. the thrill of the challenge mingling with the gnawing fear that clawed at the edges of my mind. But as the night wore on and the dares grew increasingly sinister, I began to realize the true cost of my greed. Although, I had more important things on my mind. Friday once again rolled around, and the most popular guy in our school, Jackson, had invented me to his house party. This was absolutely a dream come true, but, how was I supposed to tell my mother I was going to a random frat boys party? As 6:00pm rolled around, I grabbed my keys and told my mother I was going to a movie with my friends. As she was about to reply, a new option for Truth or Dare showed, stating, “tell your mother where you’re really going.” At this point, I knew I was screwed. “Are you sure?” My mother asked. “Actually, I was invited to a party by Jackson, the new football teams quarter back.” I said, shuffling my feet. “Do you think I’m crazy? Absolutely not, you are staying home tonight!” My mother shouted back. Maybe it was for the better, after all, mother knows best, right? As 8:00 rolled around, I was sitting on my bed reading, as a new dare showed. “Sneak out and go to the party.” It read. “Well… shit. I’m screwed either way, at this rate.” I muttered, taking the screen off of my window. I grabbed my keys from my desk, and climbed out into the fresh, cold air. I made it to the party about 15 minutes later. As I took my boots off, and walked through the front door, I noticed my friend Samantha sitting next to Jackson with a group of others, drinking out of shiny, red cups. Jackson came up to greet me, handing me a strange smelling concoction. “Here, I’m sure you’ll like this!” Jackson said, cheerfully. “I’m sorry.. I’m not much of a drinker. It’s not good for you.” I stated, slightly uncomfortable. “Oh come on… look, everyone’s drinking! This is my special, everyone loves this. It has extra lime in it!” He yelled back, trying to make himself heard over the loud music playing from a speaker in the kitchen. “Alright… just a few sips, I guess.” I said, shyly taking the cup from his hand. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, it was quite citrusy, and I love sour things. As the night went on, I continued to drink the mysterious beverages from Jackson. All seemed fine, until around 11:45pm. In a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, it happened. Someone spiked my drink, sending me spiraling into darkness as my world shattered into a million jagged pieces. When I awoke, disoriented and groggy, I found myself trapped in a nightmare of my own making. Bound to a small wooden chair, surrounded by four other girls, each one bearing the same haunted expression of terror etched into their pale faces. As the reality of our situation sunk in, a cold wave of despair washed over me, the harsh truth of my actions crashing down around me like a tidal wave. And as I stared into the darkness, the option still hanging over my head like a cruel taunt, I knew that the game was far from over. But as the hours stretched into days, and the terror of our captivity threatened to consume us whole, I clung to the fragile hope that somehow, someway, we would find a way to escape the nightmare that had become our reality. The only times we had seen the light of day, was when Jackson brought food and water down to us. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, we fought tooth and nail against the forces that sought to break us, forging bonds of strength and resilience that would carry us through the darkest of nights. And though the scars of our ordeal would never fully heal, we emerged from the depths of hell stronger than we ever thought possible, united in our determination to reclaim our lives and rewrite our own destinies. As the days stretched on in our captivity, each one blurring into the next in a haze of fear and uncertainty, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon in the most unexpected way. One day, as I sat huddled in the darkness, my mind drifting back to the events that had led me to this nightmare, a strange option materialized before my eyes, shimmering like a mirage in the desert of my despair. "Lifeline, Time travel: Go back to the first day of school," it read, its words pulsating with an otherworldly glow that seemed to beckon me closer. For a moment, I hesitated, the weight of my past mistakes bearing down on me like a crushing weight. But as I stared into the depths of the option before me, a flicker of determination ignited within me, burning bright against the darkness that threatened to consume me whole. With a trembling hand, I reached out and pressed the option, the world around me fading into a swirling vortex of light and color as time itself seemed to bend and warp around me. Within in the blink of an eye, I found myself standing once again at the threshold of a new chapter, the familiar sights and sounds of the first day of school washing over me like a balm for my weary soul. “Wait a minute” I thought to myself. “Isn’t it that in all of those time travel movies, doesn’t your past self seeing your future self create some sort of paradox? Or singularity? Or the end of life as we know it…?” I knew then I had to disguise myself before approaching my past self. As I put on glasses, and changed my clothes in the locker room, I scurried around trying to find some sort of hat. “Ugh, finally!” I exclaimed, grabbing a beanie that was left is someone’s open locker. “I have to go find myself.” I said, bolting out of the locker room door. As I ran through the halls, I had accidentally bumped into a girl, walking the opposite direction of me. As I apologized profusely, bending over to hand her one of her purple binders, she looked at me puzzled. “Wait a minute, have I met you before?” My heart sank. “Umm. Maybe you should get your vision checked.” “Whatever, asshole.” She muttered under her breath.

The Hotel de Oriente, that used to be in Binondo and was recreated in Las Casas Filipinas de Acuzar in Bataan, though I'm not sure if its interior is accurate. It lasted until World War 2 diba? Why don't we know anything else about any of the hotel's other guests? Even non-Filipinos like Spanish and maybe Americans, we don't know how they were very involved much with the hotel, though I'm sure there were guests among them.
But when it comes to native Filipinos, Chinese mestizos etc. why is he the only guest we know about? Was there no other native Filipino who ever was involved with the hotel? If I remember right, he didn't even stay more than a few days.
Where are the guest records? Did they burn up in the war or were destroyed before? Even if they did, are there no records from others, like newspapers or diaries or letters about who else stayed there? The hotel was around for more than 50 years I think, so there has to be a long list somewhere.
And if he is not the only one, who are the other Filipino guests?

Hi! I’m really in need of advice right now.
My partner (24M) and I (22F) have been together for 4 years and engaged for 9 months but haven’t started planning the wedding.
Lately I’ve been really struggling to feel happy in our relationship. We’ve lived together for 3 years and have spent every single day together since. But in recent months it feels like he has stopped caring, he doesn’t ever do anything for me or get me anything. (by this I mean literally anything, tidy the lounge room, pick me a flower from the side of the road, take me somewhere).
There’s also a lot of animosity between him and my family about our relationship in the beginning (I moved out to live with him) and his relationship with my brother, which has caused issues with family gatherings.
(For context in this next part, I’m Aussie and he is Arab also incredibly religious) He and his family are big on gender roles, which has been a big issue for us because he believes I should cook and clean for him and by working he is showing his appreciation. Only problem is… we both work. He will never stray from this belief and it’s so hard from me especially considering my family are the opposite of norms (dad stayed home and mum worked).
I don’t want to spare specifics, but the most recent incident was this Friday when he invited guests over and had me cook for them without notice. I burnt myself with hot oil in 3 different spots on my arm and was really upset about the situation but didn’t say anything until after the guests left. To “make it better” he promised he would do the dishes. It’s now Sunday and he’s asked me to do it because he’s back at work from today.
There’s a lot more I could go into, but I think this is the main thing.
I truly love him, I’d love to work this all out but he doesn’t listen or understand my POV, he just throws out the “leave then”, but I don’t want to leave. Not to mention I lose everything I’ve worked for in the last few years if we break up.