I (23F) am only a burden to my family. I developed an eating disorder at age 18 after battling depression for what felt like the entirety of my life. I still struggle with everything. I've been through hell and back, trying everything and being forced to try anything that might work by my parents, including some really traumatic shit. But now, more than ever before, it feels like I only bring my family down. And it all started with my older sister (27F) expressing her hatred for me.
She has called my eating disorder (ED) attention seeking. It was never like that, I can vouch for that since I'm the one experiencing it. But the ED did change the family dynamic. I know because of my psychological issues that I'm a pain to deal with. I'm emotionally sensitive to even the most minuscule things, I'm almost always in a mood or having a day with ED or depressive behaviors, and I still live with my parents. I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, which I never would've thought possible a couple of years ago. I have reasons to be optimistic and hopeful. But everyone around me only seems to see the fact that I am a burden. Even I am overwhelmed by the fact that I'm a burden. I'm a financial and emotional burden. People walk on eggshells around me to avoid triggering me, even when I'm doing better than the norm. I don't think anyone cares for me anymore. I have no friends. I sit in my room most days after a workout and just nap or sit in silence. I take my meds on time. But no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, things never go the way I wish they would.
All I've ever wanted was to be understood. I feel even less understood by everyone now that I know that my sister hates me. I have two other siblings (29M and soon to be 19F) who I don't even know if I can trust anymore, since they could secretly be harboring the same feelings as my older sister. I feel awful. My dad caught me sobbing in my room, and I just brushed it off. But deep down inside I'm dying. It hurts so much to know someone I thought I could trust doesn't feel the same way. I love my family. And maybe it's best that I live far away from them once I can. I don't want them to suffer the way I've suffered, or to suffer anything aking to my suffering. If someone has to take all the pain, I want it to be me. I'm just at a loss for how to cope. I'm in so much pain, knowing I truly am the burden I always made myself out to be.
I would never wish depression, anxiety, or an ED on anyone. I would never wish the reality of my family on anyone. But if my family could just spend a day or week inside my head, maybe they'd understand that this whole pretending to be happy and playing to role of daughter is a hell of a lot harder than I make it look. Dealing with the demons I do is not easy. I am lucky. I am still alive and fighting. I am not physically or otherwise mentally disabled. I. Am. Lucky. But today, right now, I don't feel so lucky to be where I am, to be who I am. I just want to cry until I can't. Here's to hoping all of you are doing even a little better than I am right now. Thanks for reading.

Hi everyone! I'm new here, and very hopeful that y'all might be able to help me! I'm trying to find the name of a book I read when I was a teenager. I really liked the book, but let a friend borrow it after I read it, and never seen it again. Unfortunately, I've lost the title, author, and most details over the years. I'll do my best to describe it below. Any help will be appreciated!
A teen girl ends up pregnant. She hides her pregnancy from her parents with baggy clothes, excuses for this symptom or that, and limited interactions with them. If I remember correctly, she ends up having the baby in the woods or has a stillborn, but either way, ends up burying the baby near a specific tree. Fast forward to her adult years, she's married and has kids (I think). Some weird stuff starts to happen. She starts seeing a baby, but the baby has really sharp teeth. Then, the next time she sees the baby, it's grown wayore than it should've. The baby eventually grows into a little girl with sharp teeth. The story ends with the woman fighting the girl and killing her. But, when the husband and kids get home, they find the woman dead, and no sign of the girl with sharp teeth.
I know this isn't the best description, but it is literally all I can remember... and even that much is very hazy. If anyone knows what I'm talking about, though, I would be so, so, so happy! I really want to buy the book or look for it at thrift stores/yard sales for it. So again, any help will be appreciated! Thank all y'all in advance! :)

my partner broke up with me because he wasn’t sure what he wanted in the relationship. he told me that he needed time to work on himself, but ever since we broke up he has been at the bars with his friends. i feel selfish and like it’s not right for me to feel the way i do about it all, but i almost feel like he left everything on me to feel and experience on my own while he gets to enjoy the freedom he said that he missed while dating me. im hurting because i can’t understand at this time why he is choosing to heal and move forward by drinking.
i truly want the best for him and i am trying my best to accept his wishes because i truly believe he deserves everything good in life. but i can’t help but feel angry and some resentment towards the choices he is making. i told him i couldn’t talk to him because it hurts holding a conversation with him right now, but he said he wanted to update me about his day and message me good night and that i didn’t have to respond to him.
i honestly want to unadd him or tell him to only reach out when he is ready for a relationship with me because i don’t deserve to be waiting around for him to want me back.
would it be irrational to remove him off of social media until he’s ready or should i sit this one out and let him do what he wants to do to heal. i ultimately want to get back with him and he wants to as well, but he doesn’t know when.

FEMA Inspections Launched: The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) inspections have begun for those that applied for disaster assistance for damages caused by Typhoon Mawar.
FEMA inspections will help determine whether a home is safe, sanitary and livable. To determine whether an applicant is eligible for assistance, FEMA considers the home’s interior and exterior structural soundness; whether the electrical, gas, heat, plumbing and sewer or septic systems are functional; and whether the home is livable and can be entered and exited safely. FEMA inspections will also consider damages to personal property.
If you need accommodations for language translations or a disability, call 1-800-621-3362 in advance of the inspection and let FEMA know your needs.
The first step for a FEMA inspection starts with a phone call, text message or email from a FEMA inspector to the applicant to schedule an appointment. Be aware that phone calls from FEMA may come from an unknown number. The inspector will try to make contact up to three times over three days. The case will be locked if the inspector cannot reach you after three attempts.
The inspection process usually takes 30 to 40 minutes. If you were able to take photos or video of interior or exterior damage to the home, show them to the inspector.
Those who are unable to meet with the FEMA inspector for an inspection can have a friend or relative act on their behalf to meet with the inspector. But first they must submit to FEMA a written and signed request for third-party involvement, which is a legal document, authorizing another person who is at least 18 years of age to meet with the inspector and to provide and receive information from FEMA on their behalf.
Important to Know: The inspector will not be collecting any documentation and will never ask for personal information like a Social Security number. FEMA never charges for an inspection. If a FEMA inspector comes to your home and you did not submit a FEMA application, your information may have been used without your knowledge to create a FEMA application. If so, please inform the inspector that you did not apply for FEMA assistance so they can submit a request to stop all further processing on the application. A fraudulent application could be a sign of identity theft. For information on what to do if you suspect identity theft, please visit identitytheft.gov. If you wish to apply for FEMA assistance after stopping an application made in your name without your knowledge, the FEMA Helpline will need to assist you in creating a new application. Call 1-800-621-3362.
FEMA May Be Able to Help with Transportation Repairs: FEMA’s Other Needs Assistance (ONA) provides financial help after a disaster to cover necessary expenses and serious needs not paid by insurance or other sources. This may include repair or replacement of a vehicle. You must first apply to FEMA (disasterassistance.gov, FEMA mobile app, 1-800-621-3362), then submit an application for a disaster loan from the U.S. Small Business Administration (SBA). If you are denied a loan, or if the loan does not cover all expenses, you may be referred to FEMA for ONA consideration.
For assistance to repair or replace a vehicle, the damage must have been caused by the disaster and the vehicle must no longer be operable or safe to drive. Cosmetic repairs will not be covered. Other conditions include: The vehicle must have been damaged by Typhoon Mawar. Assistance is usually limited to one vehicle. If there is a second functional vehicle in the household, the applicant must certify in writing that the damaged vehicle is essential for the household’s daily use. The vehicle must be in compliance with motor vehicle division’s registration and insurance requirements. The vehicle must be owned or leased (not a rental) by the applicant, co-applicant, or household member. The damaged vehicle must be an approved vehicle type, such as a car, truck, SUV or van. The amount provided for repair or replacement is based on the degree of damage and the amount the motor vehicle division has determined for the maximum repair and replacement value.
Documentation required for consideration, includes, but is not limited to: Proof of insurance policy showing the type of coverage or proof of vehicle meets the territory’s requirement. Insurance provider settlement or statement that insurance coverage does not exists, for vehicle repair. A verifiable estimate, bill, or receipt confirming the damage was caused by the disaster, with labor and parts/replacement costs. For vehicle replacement, additional documentation is necessary from the motor vehicle division confirming the vehicle was salvaged due to the disaster.
Guam homeowners and renters who were affected by Typhoon Mawar can also register with FEMA by calling 1-800-621-3362, visiting disasterassistance.gov or downloading the application on the FEMA App. For more information about registration, processing and FEMA’s Individual Assistance Programs, visit fema.gov.
When you apply for assistance, have the following information ready: A current phone number Address at the time of the disaster and the address where you are now staying Social Security number List of damage and losses Banking information if you choose direct deposit If insured, the policy number or the agent and/or the company name
Survivors may be eligible to receive assistance for uninsured and underinsured damage and losses resulting from Typhoon Mawar. If you have homeowners, renters or flood insurance, you should file a claim as soon as possible. FEMA cannot duplicate benefits for losses covered by insurance. If your policy does not cover all your disaster expenses, you may be eligible for federal assistance.
Disaster assistance may include financial help with temporary lodging and home repairs, as well as other disaster-related expenses.
To date, over 10,000 Guam residents have applied for disaster assistance.
Disaster Recovery Centers: FEMA Disaster Recovery Centers (DRC) are open at the Guam Community College, Building E and the Dededo Sports Complex, seven days a week from 7 a.m. - 7 p.m. The DRCs are open to assist island residents impacted by Typhoon Mawar with disaster relief programs.

The day seemed like it would be ordinary until the aeronautical community’s most sought after document showed up on my doorstep.
It came wrapped in brown kraft paper tied off with twine, and the exterior packaging had no return address nor any indication of a postage stamp. It was as though it had been simply bundled up and dropped into my wall-mounted mailbox by a random passerby.
No part of me was willing to surrender the strange parcel without opening it first. Regardless of who its contents truly belonged to, my eyes would be the first to see it. I removed the twine and then dug a thumb under a fold in the packaging paper before clawing it away to expose a brown tan notebook circa 1900. It was full grain buffalo leather with a crisscross of cord for the spine and a thick hand cut string keeping it sealed shut.
When I undid the string, the pages that had been gripped tight by the leather fanned out gently then returned to their original position, my eyes landing on the front page. It was without a printer’s mark and read in big handwritten type: “THE DIARY AND RECORD OF HENRY H. HELGELAND.”
I knew in that instant the package was in the hands of who it was rightfully sent out for. Not just because I’d recently lost my job as an associate at our city’s art museum but because of a separate, much deeper connection to the diary’s author.
Perhaps it’s in my best interests to turn it over to the National Archives, or the US Arctic Research Commission, or maybe even the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center, but at the risk of seeing it blue-penciled to death, I’ve elected to instead share it here and now.
The world needs to know what happened.
---
Henry H. Helgeland — my great grandfather — was a severe looking man with a walrus mustache and a bone to pick with anyone who ever doubted him. He was born in Oakland, California in 1871 and was, by all available accounts relayed to me, well-behaved and well-liked. His father worked a lucrative job in the shipping industry, transporting timber between San Francisco and the Central Valley. Two years into Henry’s life, his mother would contract a fatal case of diphtheria and die shortly thereafter; when he was old enough to understand what had happened, Henry “yearn[ed] fervently for a reunion to mend [his] great anguish and sorrow.”
Near the turn of the 20th century, Henry attended Stanford University’s Department of Mechanical Engineering, where he learned everything from thermodynamics to machine design. But it was a lecture about polar transportation that would ultimately kindle his interest in a separate enterprise: arctic exploration. Indeed, the race to the North Pole was well underway, with naval officers, geologists, and aeronauts around the globe vying for the chance to make history. My great grandfather, like many of his peers, propounded the theory that he, and he alone, would be the first to reach the Great White North.
In 1895, Henry graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in mechanical engineering and sought to expand the member list of the so called Ascension Society, a student organization he’d assembled to aid engineering graduates with materials science. Many of its constituents had engaged in research projects and experimental setups to hone their craft of mechanical systems, but in time, however, the venture would instead prove a hotspot for investors and philanthropists. Donations averaging up to $5,000 helped fund and promote the fantastic ambitions of my great grandfather. So long as the Ascension Society was gracing him with their support, he’d be the first to reach the North Pole.
In early 1898, armed with enough capital, Henry used the proceeds to purchase the materials required for the balloon.
---
A notable circus at the forefront of traveling attractions in the early twentieth century was The Fielding Troupe. With its impressive lineup of talent — from fire eaters and aerialists to equestrians and strongmen — the ensemble drew crowds from nearly every town in western America during its historic run. Its wide reach would ultimately reel in many notable faces, including my great grandfather.
Prior to a performance in Oakland, the Fielding Troupe led a procession through the town around Stanford University, announcing their arrival with a parade of wagons, floats, and animals. The strategy, as it were, was to drum up as much publicity and fanfare as possible. Evidently it worked, as a healthy fraction of the faculty and student body at Stanford made the trip over to Oakland in order to see the troupe in action.
Surrounding their arena with two hundred feet of heavy duty tent canvas, the troupe put on a show for the ages the night Henry was in attendance, with extravagant acrobatics, trained animal performances, and a special appearance from Curtis the Clown. Following a skillful display of juggling and good natured audience ribbing, Curtis’s master stroke was an intricate stunt involving balloons and wire flying. Firstly, he would inflate several multi-colored balloons and tie them off with string, securing them firmly in his grip. They served as a flashy distraction from the piece of flexible metal snaking out from the harness he had concealed under his equally flashy costume. Then, with a whisper of strength, a couple stagehands hoisted the balloon-carrying clown thirty feet into the air to make it appear as though he was levitating by virtue of the balloons alone. A separate performer — a marksman — showed off his sharpshooting skills with a Winchester model rifle and gunned down the balloons, exploding each one as the stagehands loosened their hold on Curtis’s harness until he was eased to the ground.
Henry watched the routine with eager delight. Seeing Curtis the Clown float above a hundred or so onlookers helped stir within him a plan. The ceiling of the Big Top Tent where Curtis had concluded his ascent represented more than the centerpiece of a traveling circus.
“Ascendancy,” Henry muttered to his wife Ruth. “This is how we get to the top of the world.”
---
The spherical vessel measured sixty-five feet in diameter, with a capacity of over 200,000 cubic feet. Its construction was overseen by Henry and a couple french engineers who installed in its gondola three berths and ample ballast to keep it stable. The gondola, a carefully constructed assemblage of wicker and chestnut wood, was built as such to bar any interference to the magnetic instruments of the explorers. Keeping it shielded against severe weather conditions was a varnished silk calotte and a vaselined net composed of over four-hundred hemp cords. A bamboo pole was attached bellow the carrying ring to attach the side sails and, perhaps most notably, the balloon was fitted with hemp and cocoa nut fiber guide ropes to help steer and maintain a consistent altitude.
After two years of exhaustive construction, work on the balloon was completed in 1900. Henry named it Ascension, after the society that funded its creation.
---
What follows are several selected passages lifted directly from Henry’s memorandum, transcribed by me. The first entry reads:
“At nine o'clock on the forenoon, May 5, 1900, under the auspices of the Ascension Society, we embarked from the 71st parallel on our quest of the Pole. Our great journey sets off from Point Barrow, Alaska following a grueling adventure aboard the steamer Sursum. I, Henry Helgeland, travel forth, accompanied by Charles Ringvold, esteemed navigator, and Edward Meyer, long celebrated physician, into the arctic wilderness. Together, our efforts will generate a most formidable team and an unwavering spirit. We will ascend.”
Indeed, the SS Sursum disembarked from a port in San Francisco in mid May of that year; it offered easy access to the Pacific Ocean and sailed through the Bering Strait, covering over 3,000 nautical miles before reaching Point Barrow on July 2.
When the balloon took off, carried by a fierce north east wind, it was to a thunderous applause from those that had come to bear witness to the bold endeavor. Among them were crew members of the SS Sursum, high ranking associates of the Ascension Society, and carpenters tasked with helping the balloon reach its initial phase of liftoff.
As it elevated to 300 hundred feet and passed around an onlooking whaler, Henry was reported to have shouted: “To the top of the world, hurrah!”
---
36 hours would elapse before a second entry was made.
“July 4, 1900, Lat. 77° 48' N, Long. 143° 4' W. We are soaring at a height of 600 feet above the Earth's surface, traveling at a speed of approximately seven kilometers per hour. Our morale remains similarly aloft. Charles relayed to me that, God willing, we anticipate reaching the pole in roughly 800 miles. Beyond the drag ropes lending their ballast to our journey, optimism is our guiding force. We will ascend.”
Turbulent air currents had a different plan in mind, however.
“July 5, 1900, Lat. 80° 8' N, Long. 138° 37' W. Alas! Our aerial journey came to an abrupt halt yestereve on the 80th parallel. We voyaged as many as 500 miles before a forceful downdraft spun our vehicle on its vertical axle and compelled it into a sharp descent; we had lost what we estimate to be just over 100 cubic feet of gas.
“Edward suffered severe injuries during the initial impact and claims his vertebrae have been shattered, leaving him immobile. We’re at the mercy of the floe on which we now rest, at the mercy of the Polar Sea. Should we face the specter of death, we shall meet it with unwavering honor. We will ascend.”
---
“July 6, 1900. We find ourselves solitary in the barren expanse, accompanied only by bergs, ice-fields, and majestic glaciers. Our rations encompass a container’s worth of hardtack, enough salted beef for approximately one week, canned stew, dried apricots, some chocolate bars, and seven bottles of ale.
“Edward’s outlook remains grim; he suspects he’ll never walk again. In witness of his current state, I’m beginning to share in such apprehensions. Edward, whom we have reposed on on of our sledges, fears that the opportunity to make known the great love he holds for his mistress Rebecca is one he’ll never be granted. ‘You shall be reunited at once,’ I assured him. ‘Our journey to triumph will not be thwarted by minor inconveniences.’
“We’ve plotted the course to our next destination: that being Herschel Island, located off the coast of Canada in the Beaufort Sea. Charles — who shares in Edward’s dismay — estimates a three month footslog spanning just under one thousand miles is in store for us, perhaps more given Edward’s ailment. I am determined to see this mission to its completion, yet survival remains a paramount desire. Who’s to recount our extraordinary journey should we fail?
“While establishing our encampment and scouting the local flora of the area for additional sources of sustenance, I happened upon a plant of an unknown species. Half a meter tall, bulbous tubers, and thin roots terminating in clusters of white flowers; intuition suggests this is a water hemlock, which precludes it from edibility. Nevertheless, I shall regard this finding as one of great fortune. A portent of divine value. We will ascend.”
---
Two days later, gold prospectors off the Alaskan coast at Nome beach were in the process of emptying their sluice boxes when from the sky flew a carrier pigeon directly to their mining site. It bore a label with the inscription “Helgeland” and contained the following dispatch:
“July 7, 1900. First dog watch. Three southerly traveling carrier-pigeons were sent off at approximately 7 h. 40 p.m. Pacific Standard Time, the following among them. This is Rear Admiral Charles Ringvold of the United States Navy and the Helgeland Balloon Expedition of 1900. Our hopes of reaching the pole have been reduced to naught. Assistance urgently needed. Our destinies have hitherto been unknown, and now my fears have been actualized. GO IN TERROR OF HENRY HELGELAND. He is not who he proclaims to be. I volunteered for a man of honorable stature and venturesome drive. The man before me betrays neither.”
The remainder of the message was a hasty scrawl, decrypted only by the best in linguistics and modern codebreaking.
“UNASSISTED WE WILL PERISH HELPED WE WILL PERSEVERE PLEASE GOD HELP US HENRY WILL KILL US ALL DO NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE PROCLAIMS.”
The communication was immediately passed off to the Smithsonian Institution, where word fell within the earshot of Ascension Society proponents and additional members of the US Navy. A follow-up expedition — a rescue team led by Captain S. P. Matthews — was put together at once with the authorization of the Secretary of War.
Months later, after a congressional bill introduced to secure grant funding for arctic exploration — and thereby a rescue mission for Helgeland’s lost expedition — was successfully passed, the USS Greenwich departed from the San Francisco Naval Shipyard with a crew of thirty boatswains, medics, and deck officers among others.
What they would ultimately uncover puzzled them all.
---
“July 7, 1900. The team has fractured. We are without our provisions and without the morale that has served us thusly.
“Charles and I set upon the pursuit and capture of a walrus, a most strenuous task in the Arctic Circle. Furnished with a Winchester model .40-82, the sport skews in our favor but we are in no short supply of peril. These are one ton beasts with the strength of a hundred strongmen as they stave the ice, and yet it is not them I should have feared.
“’I can’t allow you to proceed further.’ I heard the click clack racket of the Winchester as Charles chambered a round and raised the rifle, training its twenty inch barrel toward my back after I had volunteered — quite ignorantly — to take the vanguard.
“’Charles?’ I managed between clattering teeth.
“’You’re a man of bold stature. An honorable man at that. But not honorable enough to die for. And that’s it, Henry. I will not die for you.’
“’You speak out of distress, not rationality.’
“’I’m as rational as one permits when I say we won’t all make it to Canada. You can’t expect us to sledge Edward for the next month and retain our strength. Our sanities.” I could hear him gulp, ‘our lives.’
“’You’re not who you say you are.’ I realized in that moment. ‘Not even an ensign would renounce his own crew. Who are you really, Charles?’
“His credentials were a farce; a clever scheme to scrape through the expedition’s vetting process. He was no navy-man nor expert nor navigator and if you piled his life’s accomplishments on top of one another, they’d be equal to that of a cretin.
“’Doesn’t matter any more, Henry.’
“’Then why haven’t you shot me?’
“I sensed beyond his terror a hint of reluctance and felt within him the trepidation of an amateur. The man had never wielded a firearm in his life and wouldn’t start hence.
“’In Your infinite mercy, hear my prayer. In Your boundless grace, grant me Your forgiveness,’ he muttered below his breath. I could’ve believed he’d have squeezed the trigger if not for the unexpected convulsion that suddenly brought him to his knees. Befallen by the strange attack, Charles unhanded the Winchester and collapsed to the ice in the midst of a crippling seizure. And in a matter of moments, he had succumbed to death.
“With some activated charcoal or perhaps an emetic, he could have eluded such a painful demise. I stepped over to look upon his body, his pupils dilated to the size of dimes. Reviewing the immediate symptoms, intuition tells me he’s become the latest victim of hemlock poisoning, the kind of amateur mistake I’d expect from someone such as Charles. Ideal timing, if I may speak candidly.
“Hope remains alive. I will ascend.”
---
Investigators with the crew of S. P. Matthews found everything except answers.
It took them all of three months to zero in on the campsite left behind by Helgeland’s expedition. Any prospect of finding the balloon itself was dropped by the wayside to preserve manpower and time.
The camp was discovered on the 79th parallel, not in any particular state of disarray but with enough evidence to suggest conflict had broken out between the members. Edward was discovered in a tent with the rest of the rations and a bullet hole stamped in the side of his head. There was no telling how long he’d been dead for.
Forty-five meters away from the camp, buried under a stalagmitic gathering of ice and snow, was the body of Charles Ringvold. A followup inquiry would prove my great grandfather’s claims that he was a fraud, but like Charles himself, the truth is buried deep under the surface. Edward and Charles are commemorated for their failed — albeit honorable — efforts in the face of great opposition.
The body of my great grandfather, however, was never found. Theories thus abound in the saga of Henry H. Helgeland and we are no more the wiser now than we were a century ago. He is remembered for murdering his men in cold blood, deserting them, and then yielding to the elements somewhere in the frozen hell of the arctic. The carrier-pigeon message sent by Charles corroborated the apparent facts.
But I know the truth. Because only I have the answers.
“July 8, 1900. All that remains is me, for everyone else has vanished. Edward and I regaled each other with stories of our mistresses as night fell upon our place in the arctic wasteland. Rebecca, Edward’s beloved, works as an expert seamstress in San Francisco and will no doubt be devastated when news of his fate reaches her. But the great memories they shared together, I assured him, will serve her well in the years to come.
“‘You shall be reunited at once,’ I whispered to him once more before executing the dying man with the Winchester. It is my turn to face whatever awaits me on the ice.
“My great anguish and sorrow have been mended.
“Ruth is calling to me now. Our son promptly requires our presence.
“I shall go to them."
The fruitless search for my great grandfather peaked at last with the unearthing of a path of footprints snaking away from the tent where Edward’s body lay. Investigators followed them for approximately ten meters before they abruptly ceased. Captain Matthews is quoted as saying: “it was as though the walker had simply floated away.”
And indeed, it was our family that won in the end, for my great grandfather received exactly what he wanted. The final, undated entry of his diary is comprised of but three simple words:
“I have ascended.”

I recently came across a post about an expat who participated in a night wedding. After reading the accounts I began to do research on my own. Not because I believe in any of that stuff. I'm a magician after all. Illusion is my bread and butter. And I can detect trickery better than most. Which in my line of work has its benefits. But old traditions are the best places to pick up new techniques. Old ways that are new to others that delight and even scare people. Because, if I can make them afraid. Make them look away. For even a second. I can pull off some astounding magic.
My gig at the cruise line was coming to an end as we neared the port of Shanghai. And for my last several shows, where I'd normally start to include my greatest tricks in order to leave a lasting impression. I developed a new act that I called "The Sneaky Bride", it involved a mannequin in a wedding dress, a beautiful train, veil, flowers on the ground - the whole nine yards some would say. The trick was that the bride would sneak bites as my assistants who are dressed as servers pass by with their trays.
I begin the trick by placing a mannequin center stage for all to see so that they know it's a dummy. I show them there are no holes, and the entire thing is solid. Then we dress it up and set the stage for a wedding. And with a bit of lighting, another assistant switches places with the mannequin and is being fed under the veil. We later changed it to more slight of hand techniques as the assistant complained she wasn't able to chew fast enough as the items of course have to get larger and larger for comedic effect as the guests were wowed by the disappearing act as the fake wedding progressed.
At the end we even invited the unmarried men up to the stage and then threw out a fake bouquet, and watched them clamber over each other in good fun to catch it. The act was an instant hit and had the crowd roaring every night. Which was why I decided to take a firsthand look at the original, and see if there were any other staging techniques I could learn from this old tradition.
With some help from Bing and its ChatGPT features I was able to get a relatively good idea of where it was practiced. So I booked the next flight out to begin my quest for a real night wedding.
Upon arrival at my hotel, I asked the concierge for information about the local practice.
"Yes. I know of this one. We practice it often for children who were taken too early."
"But they are all scams?"
The concierge smiled, "In most cases the pouches mean no harm, and they're simply for families who want to provide peace for themselves and to complete a lasting tradition. Sometimes the dowries are quite lucrative as well, and it is the families who are scammed by those who go and collect these ghost wives as concubines. We call it a blue procession for the trail of ghosts the husband leaves behind wherever he goes." He leans in, "But between you and me? They're mostly all scams."
I laughed, and I can't stress this next part enough, tip your concierge! Which I did. "Thank you, and also. Do you know where I could get a good start on finding more information about these ghost dowries? Or even find one of these pouches myself?"
"The temple down this first street to the left, about half a kilometer, would be a good place to start. But finding a pouch is a bit more difficult as they pop up sporadically. However, if traditions are to be believed it is the pouch who chooses the spouse."
I thanked him again and began to make my way through the early morning rush toward the temple. The streets were lined with open markets full of food from local farmers, which were common in the morning in this part of the world. They would disappear before the afternoon and then return again to sell wares at night when it was cooler. It made the city feel as if it were breathing as the locals rose and ebbed outside with day and night.
On my way, I searched the ground and around alleys for loose pouches. But I had no such luck by the time I arrived at the temple. Large red pillars that were thicker than any tree I've personally had the pleasure of meeting held up the high ceiling. Inside, the locals were already starting to disperse as the work hours were amongst us. Which left me nearly alone in this temple at about 8:00 in the morning.
A monk or priest was kneeling on a mat in front of a wooden shrine, throwing pieces of wood in the shape of dumplings on the floor. I waited patiently for him to finish. Taking in the sights and the delicate features of the temple. When he rose I approached him.
"You don't speak English by any chance do you?"
He smiled.
"What about the middle tongue?" I asked in Mandarin.
"Oh," he seemed surprised. "Yes. How may I be of assistance?"
"What were you doing just now?"
He held out his hand and showed me two red wooden pieces that were, with closer inspection, in the shape of moons. "Jiaobei," he told me. "We use these to seek divine guidance."
"How does it work?"
The monk shows me the two sides, one was smooth and flat, the other side rounded. "You ask a question and then throw it on the ground. One block flat and one block round, means yes. Both blocks showing round means no. Or depending on the question. Anger from the Gods. Or crying in sadness as it is commonly known. And finally, both blocks showing flat means laughter. Which could mean a number of things." He hands them to me, "You throw it three times to get a better answer."
"I'm guessing if it's the same all three times, the answer is definitive?"
The monk nodded.
"Will I..."
"Ah ah ah, in silence."
I didn't want my first question to be too convoluted or difficult. So I kept it simple and asked if I was a good magician. Then I threw the Jiaobei on the floor. It clattered and rolled on its rounded back, showing two flat sides.
The monk smiled.
"That usually happens the first time anyone tries Jiaobei. But in my experience, it generally means you asked a pure question."
"What happens if I didn't ask a pure question and it came back as angry?"
"The gods will remember it. They will remember you."
"No bad first impression then huh," I whispered under my breath. "Okay. Do I need to throw it two more times or can I ask a different question?"
"You may ask a different question or throw it twice more."
"What is my name?" I threw it on the floor. And to my surprise, as the ends are pointed and difficult to balance, one of the damn things stood tall and erect.
The monk bowed to the pieces. "Truly you have been picked by the gods to be answered. Lijiao or a standing answer like this is uncommonly rare. The gods generally choose to laugh at a nonsensical question. And often get angry if you throw it two more times. And rarely do they ever answer ones asked aloud."
I bent forward, skeptical, though a temple this was, at how the thing worked. In my head I could only think that the switchboard guy was quick on his feet. But looking around I couldn't find any cameras. Though in this day an age, they're made smaller than a fly. So it was difficult to tell. I picked up the pieces, feeling for any sense of magnetism, but there were none.
I asked one last question before I left that day. I asked their gods, would I find the real deal? And I threw it on the ground three times. All three times it came up yes. But for two months I scoured the city, and the country side. And I did chance upon several pouches. Some were obviously scams as I watched each bag carefully before approaching. Especially noticeable are the ones in the city which would be laying on the sidewalk, filled with bills for people passing by. But I observed that if a local went to go pick it up, two or three men from around the corner would come and threaten him to put it back. But if a foreigner picked it up, an old man or woman would come and start calling them son before leading them away.
There were of course others that were genuinely following tradition. I chanced upon several of them and was married several times. But each one was playful almost. And performed by their parents in the day. Leaving me with several small bags of pocket change, a good dinner, as I went on my way.
During one of these fake night weddings I even saw a child playfully munching on a corn cob in the corner under one of the tables as I fed the effigy they constructed of my fake bride. Which was when I think I decided to call it quits. Believing that I'd never find the real deal. Although I did learn a lot as tradition can be translated by me into performance. Which helped me ground 'The Sneaky Bride' act further. All in all, this was time well spent.
My visa was coming to an end and I had mostly been enjoying the sights, the city, and their way of life. When on one the last day, as I was leaving from a faraway eatery that the concierge had recommended, that I saw a red pouch made of silk with a thick yarn around its throat, stuffed full of money. I looked around and didn't see a single person there, nothing except flat farmland and water gullies for miles.
Odd, I thought to myself, as it looked truly abandoned.
For a second I played with the idea of picking it up. Wondering if somehow a relative of the deceased would pop up magically next to me and I could change the world of magic by studying their technique. But I didn't want to spend my few hours chasing ghosts. I wanted to enjoy my time. So I kept walking.
I got back to the city and spent the remainder of my day eating and drinking, meeting new friends at the bar, newfound lads who I invited a hundred times to visit me in Melbourne one day. Who all agreed that if fate ever brought us back together we would drink until the sun rose. So yeah, I was fairly drunk when I got back to my hotel room, and didn't believe what I saw when I opened the door. It was a red pouch sitting on my coffee table.
"Someone's trying to play a trick on me," I mused. "They must have heard me talking at the bar." I circled the table studying the pouch. Any magician worth his smoke, likes a good bag. So there was no doubt to me that this was the same one I saw earlier. Which made me start putting two and two together. "It must be the concierge. He's the one who sent me out that far." I laughed and picked up the bag, even though I knew the rules. I opened it and thumbed through the bills. "It's much more than what I tipped him. Much more." Curious, I wondered what he would have done if I didn't return this to him. It must have been quite a few months worth of wages. I threw the bag up in the air and caught it as if I were juggling before I tossed it on my nightstand. "I'm going to let him sweat for a little bit and pretend I didn't find it tomorrow as I check out," I mused as I went to go take a shower.
I opened the door and felt the words stick to the roof of my mouth as the bag appeared on the counter next to the sink. I shot a glance back to the nightstand and indeed the bag I had just thrown on there was missing.
"This is a good fucking trick. That, or I'm drunker than I thought." I started questioning did I somehow fall asleep beforehand? Or walked into the bathroom and put it there as I mused my little scheme of making the concierge nervous at the lost pouch? Had I somehow in my drunken state done something without realizing it? No. That couldn't be it. I touched my chest to check my heart rate and put my fingers on my face. A bit flushed, but heart rate adequate. I was fine for the most part. Just drunk.
I looked at the pouch on the counter, and peered gingerly into the bathroom as if I've never stepped foot in one, before deciding to grab the bag and close the door. "Okay," I said loudly. "Whoever's doing this. Come on out." Of course no one appeared, not that I expected them to because the credo I lived by is that a good magician never reveals his trick.
"Okay, let's see how good you guys really are," I mused. Going over to my closet and placed the pouch on the shelf. Closing the door. Then I went back to the bathroom and opened the door. It was empty. I checked the nightstand drawer, mpty. I looked all over, and it was still mty. I breathed a sigh and went over to the closet door, "I guess you're just a bag after all." Except when I looked inside. MT. I couldn't find the bag behind any other nook or cranny. I know, I checked them all. And they were all .
I stumbled backwards and looked around, glancing at the ceiling corners in case someone had crawled up there. And even looked under the bed. But there was no one else here. I felt my chest tighten as I tried to make sense of what was happening. "Its got to be the walls I reasoned." And so for the next half hour I scoured the entire room with my hands, pushing, pressing, pulling anywhere and everywhere I could. Using all my years of experience to figure out what was going on. But there was nothing.
I couldn't stay in that room another minute so I rushed outside and nearly stepped on it! The bag! It was right at the foot of my doorstep.
My mind tried to wrap around how that was possible, "It's got to be a dupe. They've got more than one bag. I've been had, that has to be it. And the furniture inside, they have secret compartments. God, they really put a lot of effort into this," I laughed. "I have to know how this trick is done." So I opened the pouch and pulled out the note inside.
The notes generally contained their name, their current would-be age (she was 20 this year, older than most), what time they were born (8:07), a picture if they had one (she did), and how old they when they died (5). If the deceased were a bit older, perhaps a tidbit from their family is included about their personality. But most importantly, it always contained their address.
I looked at my watch, it was late and my flight was in the morning but perhaps I could still make it. So I gathered the rest of my things, my luggage, the mannequin for my act, and other bag of tricks in case I needed to go to the airport right after. "Come on," I yelled out loud to my pranksters. "Let's go see what other tricks you have up your sleeve."
I went down to the lobby and had the front desk call me a cab. I looked around for the concierge but he was nowhere to be found. So I left a note for him. And then left.
The cab drove until the city faded away. We were practically on the other side of the island by the time its tires skipped to a stop. I got out and knocked on the giant half circle doors of the address. I noticed that we were deep in the countryside. There were hardly any lights dotting the night.
I knocked several more times before I heard shuffling behind the door. And then it opened. An old man stood in front of me in his drawers.
"What do you want," he asked angrily. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I'm sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour. But," I pulled out the pouch. And his eyes widened up.
"Meju-eh. You're back." He looked at me up and down. "What are you supposed to be," he asked but then shook his head. "No, no. Come in. Come in, please."
"I don't have much time," I told him. "I have to leave in the morning."
"Sit, sit." He ushered me to a chair in the courtyard.
I placed the bag on the table next to it, "I have a flight in the morning, so if we're going to do this. We have to do it now."
Instead of fighting me, he nodded, "Yes. I agree. I don't have much time either. And Meju-eh is older than most ghost brides. The bull demon might not let her through his gets if she gets any older. And then she'll be a husbandless spinster for eternity." He ushered around, "We don't have many living relatives either. So it shouldn't be too troublesome to hurry this along." He called into the house and a young woman came out, "This is my granddaughter. Ah-ahn. Meju-eh's older sister. They were close as children."
Ah-ahn was quite beautiful. I almost couldn't take my eyes off of her.
"Go and start preparations and rouse anyone you can get a hold of. We must have the wedding tonight. Even if it isn't grand as I would like."
"Will we make it in time," I asked. "It's a lot of work for one person. Perhaps I could help?"
The old man nodded, "That's a good idea. But forgive me, I must retire for now. Or else have no energy for the wedding." He turned to his granddaughter, "Fetch me when the preparations are ready." As he left us alone in the courtyard.
"What can I do," I asked her.
"We're going to need flowers for decoration."
I pulled a rose out from behind her ear, "I happen to have a case of these on hand at all times." I put the flower in her hair.
She smiled, "Thank you."
"What else?"
"Um, we already have tables for family gatherings. There should be enough food in the freezers that we can just heat up. I need to call my aunt to come help. And wake up some of the kids. Also...we kind of need a statue of some sort, as a stand-in for my sister."
"Statue? I think I have just the thing."
Hours went by and it was the dead of the night, but watching all the people bustling around the courtyard, the kids in excited whispers, you'd never guess that all of us should have been sleeping. Soon the tables were set, the food was hot, even the decorations were strung, and I had procured my mannequin from my luggage and a few of the menfolk were putting it together inside the main living room.
Several times I found myself laughing and having a good time with the others, although chasing that hen made me look quite ridiculous, and several times I bumped into Ah-ahn and we would talk and exchange a few words. In the beginning she talked mostly about her sister. How she was troublesome as a child. Always hiding things. I told her about the pouch appearing and disappearing in my hotel. And we both had a good laugh. Eventually we talked about ourselves. I learned she wanted to get away from here, "To see the world," she told me. The more we talked the closer we got. I could feel it. Soon we were bumping into each other just to feel our bodies touch. But before anything else transpired the wedding preparations were complete.
The old man was retrieved from his bedroom and everyone gathered outside in the courtyard, looking into the main living room. There was a wooden shrine in the back of the room and the mannequin had been traditionally dressed. From an old box the grandfather retrieved several personal items that belonged to Meju. And I was then asked to enter the living room.
The grandfather said a few words, and then gave us his blessing. Ah-ahn handed me a bowl of sticky rice ball soup. I had been through this process before and knew what to do. I ate one of the pink balls and then went to go feed my new bride.
Now I've traveled with this mannequin for some time. Seen it at a dozen of my own shows. Slept with it in the room. Knew that it was in fact a dummy for all intents and purposes. However, as I started moving my spoon toward it. I swear I saw it's chest rise as if it were breathing.
I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol ebbing away from earlier or a trick of the light. But even its shoulders looked softer than usual. My hand started shaking as it got closer to her mouth. It was like watching an out of body experience as the spoon inched under her veil. And then the CRUNCH. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I looked around hoping to see some kid in the corner playing a dumb joke. But there were none. And I didn't believe what I was seeing even as the veil started moving as her jaws chewed the sticky material back and forth.
"No way," I shook. "There's just no way." My hand was so close to the veil. "Oh God. Please. I have to know how this is done." I ripped off the veil.
Meju looked very much like her picture. But older. And then older. And older. As if her face was starting to rot away as it contorted. People behind me screamed. The lightbulbs we had strung popped. Kids were running around and the grandfather fell to the floor clutching his heart.
I backed away, the spoon clattering to the ground as I watched the mannequin crick and crack as its arms and legs bent in a tangled mess until it was walking on all fours!
The thing grabbed the bent down to the grandfather and started chewing!
I turned around and saw the other guests were piling out of the courtyard. The tables were upturned and only the dim crescent light of the moon bore down on us. Everyone was screaming trying to get out. I ran and bumped into Ah-ahn. She whirled terrified and then realized it was me. She yelled, "You never! Look at the bride before it's time!"
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I thought it was a trick!"
She grabbed her face, her nails leaving streaks behind as she clawed at her skin, "Now she's going to kill every living blood relative. And then you." Ah-ahn laughed manically. "She's going to torture you!"
The people kept pushing around us until we got separated. Her final words still ringing in my ears as I took to the dirt road outside and started running. I ran for nearly a mile before I spotted a cab sitting outside of someone's house. I banged on their door and then begged them to take me to the airport. Throwing at them all the money from the dowry.
When I arrived at the airport I hurried through the TSA. Relieved at the lights and normal looking people. I boarded my flight. Tapping my foot nervously the entire time, staring out the small squarish window as we prepared to take off. The sun was starting to rise as the engine roared. I took one last look at the island as we flew away. Still trying to catch my breath at what I had just caused.
My mind was reeling as I heard two knocking noises, they sounded oddly familiar, and for a second I thought that Meju had finished with her family and had somehow come boarded. But then I realized the noise was coming from my carry-on. I reached inside and pulled out two red shaped crescents that the Monk at the temple had given to me. And I realized that if I ever needed any form of divine guidance this was it.
So right there in the tiny aisle. I asked the gods if I had escaped and threw the Jiaobei.
No.
I asked the gods if I would be safe.
No.
I asked them would Meju kill me.
Both flat.
Both flat.
Both flat.
s

Won't get into too much detail, as this is a rant more than anything. Friend recommended me to this job years ago. It was nightly and the main duty was to make sure everything was ready for the next day. It is in a rough area but whenever crazies managed to come in and give me a hard time, I was free to handle the situation the best I could. I was happy to deal with Karens who got disrespectful and except for a handful none got what they wanted.
It was a desk job and 80% of the time there was nothing to do, and I was given the green light by my boss to pretty much do anything I wanted on the computer as long things got done and wasn't surfing on anything that was obviously harmful. Shop items were half price for employees, there was little if any interaction with people, free food, and every now and then my boss would order shirts for us and made sure we got them. I couldn't have asked for a better place after 10+ years of shitty customer service jobs.
Fast forward to the present, things are entirely different.
Things are now under new management. Due to "inflation", not only did we have to start paying full price for items, but we had to keep every single transaction in writing to keep track of inventory (in my case, I was free to do it by email). I got asked a few times what my size was so they could order new uniforms, but I haven't seen anything yet while everyone else got theirs and at this point I just got tired of reminding them. A lot of things are in need of repairs, making our clients (understandably) upset with me and nothing is being done as far as I know. The shop prices are updated when I least expect them and I never find out until I actually look at the list. Speaking of changes, I'm slowly finding out I'm kept out of the loop on certain things that are changing. Petty enough that it's not worth bringing up, but still kind of annoying.
What really came at me out of left field, at least in my opinion, is the computers. Websites I would frequently visit are blocked. At first I thought "understandable, a lot of companies would institute a no-fun-allowed policy sooner or later," until I realized websites such as YouTube, Reddit, Netflix, Quora, and fucking Cartoon Network aren't blocked at all; nope, just the ones I frequently visited. Now I do fuck all except sit at the desk with nothing to do until it's time to leave.
Oh, one last thing: Instead of firing back at disrespectful people, I'm now expected to grin and bear it which hasn't been easy since it meant I had to unlearn everything I did during the previous administration. I plan to bring up the subject of getting a raise tomorrow, but I doubt that will go well.
Thank you if you read through all this. I didn't really have anywhere to put this and I just wanted to scream into the void.

Step 1: if you have gold buy crafted gear (the best being dark moon card greatness and the belt/boots for your armor type). Level your professions (google what’s best for your spec)
Step 2: normal high level dungeons to replace your worst gear
Step 3: normal heroics, these may be tough to find so I recommend starting your own group for it (be patient)
At this point your gear score should be around 3.5k+. If your weapon is shit do some battlegrounds and get the deadly weapon from the vendor in the dalaran sewers for honor.
Step 4: Now get into Naxx and soak up all the loot you can. Although it’s crazy easy, make sure you watch guides so your raid doesn’t get upset with you. Eye of eternity and obsidian sanctum are also great options.
Now you should have at least a 4k gs
Step 5: Run heroic+ to replace your worst pieces. Make sure you do the daily everyday for conquest badges.
Once you have 4.5k gs or near look for ulduar normal runs. Again do extensive research on boss fights.
Finally, you can start looking for ulduar hard modes.
I see a lot of players confused on what to do so I wanted to do my best to help. Please feel free to critique my advice or add additional help in the comments.
Thank you, Cooldad/Coolerdad pagle alliance

When it comes to choosing a TV cabinet, one of the key decisions you'll need to make is whether to opt for a TV cabinet with storage or without storage. Both options have their own advantages and considerations, so let's take a closer look to help you decide which is best for you.
TV Cabinet with Storage
A TV cabinet with storage offers the convenience of having additional space to organize and store your belongings. It typically includes drawers, shelves or cabinets that can hold various items such as DVDs, remote controls, gaming consoles and other media accessories.
This type of TV cabinet helps keep your living room neat and organized by providing a designated place for all your entertainment essentials. You can easily access and hide away items as needed, reducing clutter and creating a clean and tidy space.
TV Cabinet without Storage
On the other hand, a TV cabinet without storage offers a minimalist and sleek design, focusing solely on providing a dedicated space to showcase your television. This type of TV cabinet is ideal for those who prefer a more minimalist aesthetic or have limited space. It creates a clean and uncluttered look, allowing the focus to remain on the TV itself. Without storage compartments, this type of TV cabinet may be lighter and easier to move if needed. Additionally, it can be a budget-friendly option since cabinets with storage tend to be slightly more expensive due to the additional features.
Ultimately, choosing a TV cabinet depends on your specific needs and preferences. Consider the following:

1. Storage Requirements: Assess your storage needs and determine if you have a sufficient storage solution in your living room. If you have numerous media accessories or want a clutter-free space, a TV cabinet with storage may be the better option.
   
2. Space Constraints: Evaluate the available space in your living room. If you have limited space, a TV cabinet without storage can help maintain an open and airy feel, while still providing a stylish platform for your TV.
   
3. Aesthetic Preference: Consider your overall interior design and aesthetic preference. If you prefer a clean, minimalist look, a TV cabinet without storage may be more suitable. If you value functionality and want to keep everything organized, a TV cabinet with storage might be the better choice.
   

Both TV cabinets with storage and without storage offer their own unique benefits. It ultimately boils down to your individual needs, available space and personal style. Brands like Nilkamal Furniture provide a wide selection of TV cabinets, catering to different preferences and requirements. Take your time to assess your needs and choose the TV cabinet that aligns with your vision for your living room space.

Never been on a cruise. Wife is adamantly against it but I'd like to go on one, and like the first one to be a positive experience. I have 3 kids 10,6, and 18 mos. I want my kids to have a blast. I'd like to leave out of Galveston and have some beach time.

My wifes and my relationship has never been perfect. We were high school sweet hearts and have been together through good times and bad times. We have a beautiful 2 yr old girl, but the pregnancy was rough on my wife. Her hormones were all over the place and she hated me through most of it. Like genuinely hated me. We yelled, fought, didn't talk to each other for long stretches, but towards the end we started to come back together.
We are now expecting kid #2 and the same thing has started. She hates me again, as if I'm the worst person in the world to her. I knew it was coming this time though and am not fighting back. I know this is not her and things will get better, but that's several months down the road. She's my best friend and Im used to telling her everything. It's been pretty lonely the last few weeks without her to talk to.
This time around I have my daughter though. I try to get her out of the house as much as possible to let my wife have a break. We go ride trains, go to parks, library, you name it. In fact most evenings I get home from work, and it's just me and my daughter. I used to get so exhausted from it but I've come to really enjoy doing whatever she wants, making her dinner, feeding her, getting her into bath time, doing bed time routine. I think she might actually prefer me now over my wife too.
I know I need to reach out to my wife and see how I can help but just my presence is causing her stress and anger. Her parents have noticed and have really stepped up and bring her food, talk with her, etc (if I cook she won't eat it). Her parents are also batting for me as well, constantly trying to put in the good word for me. They were able to convince her to do marriage counseling (always been my idea so has been a no).
Any advice on how to get through it? Any stories from your situation you want to share?

Welcome, Escape from Tarkov community! United We Stand is actively looking for new members to grow and bond with as we dominate/struggle within the special economic zone of the Norvinsk Region (Tarkov). We strive to build a dedicated mature community that provides a fun, interactive, and stable core group of members to engage in all forms of EFT shenanigans. We hope that you will join us!
Our gaming journey began in 2003 as a well-respected community playing Battlefield 1942. We host a non-toxic environment providing help to new players and skilled players alike. We extend our invitation for you to fight with us. We enjoy gaming just as everyone else here, kicking back after work (or for some, school), and enjoy gaming with a side of laughter stamped with some great memories.
What we offer:
💠 We host a large array of members from all over the world. Most reside in North America and UK/Europe. Our members must be 18 years of age and older (no screaming kids). Many of our members are in their 20s-40s.
💠 Everyone in our community is equal. We do not sort members with military ranks. We also have a dedicated group of moderators to help with all issues and resolve any disputes.
💠 We host a Sherpa program where new players can ask for assistance from vetted community members.
💠 We have an active player base. There is nearly always someone on 24/7 so you never need to play alone.
💠 Non-abusive Staff/Moderation team that will assist with any problematic players or situations in a fair manner
💠 A L3 Boosted Discord where you can Stream 1080p 60fps FREE for better tactical communication.
💠 Channel Creation - Make your channel, lock/limit it, and set it how you want to play with friends.
💠 We play other FPS and Survival games as well ~ Apex Legends, Battlefield, CoD, Star Citizen, Div2, Warframe & many more.
WE ARE NOT going to require you to go through hell just to join our community. No harsh interviews or obnoxious steps to maintain membership like having to take part in mandatory practices/events. Gaming and making friends should not be a job but an escape to relax and enjoy. We look forward to meeting you!
Website: https://www.uwsgaming.com/
Discord: https://discord.gg/BwxATbU7Zd

Hi there :)
This offer will earn you a total of $22.50. The platform is called Gemini and it is a crypto-native finance platform.
Tip: Quick offer to complete, make sure you use ActiveTrader to buy and sell for lowest fees, you can expect the bonus within 48 hours.
Gemini is a New York trust company regulated by the New York State Department of Financial Services (NYSDFS). They are subject to capital reserve requirements, cybersecurity requirements, and banking compliance standards set forth by the NYSDFS and the New York Banking Law.
Residents of the following countries are eligible for this offer: Australia, Austria, Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Finland, Hong Kong, Ireland, Italy, New Zealand, Norway, Portugal, Singapore, Sweden, United Kingdom, and the United States.
Check the steps below to understand the process to complete this offer.
Steps: 1. Comment $bid on this post and I'll send you my referral link 2. Complete your details and verify your identity 3. Deposit a minimum of $100 or equivalent in GBP, EUR, etc. 4. Make a trade (buy and sell Bitcoin on their ActiveTrader setting for minimal fees) 5. $15 of Bitcoin will be credited to your account 6. Sell the Bitcoin then withdraw your deposit and the bonus back to your bank account
I’ll send you $7.50 by by PayPal, Bank Transfer, Revolut, Cash App etc. once the bonus has been credited.
Check the terms here and for more information on the company check their homepage here.
You can also check out my other offers here, if you have any questions feel free to get in touch, and please send me a DM or message when you’re ready to start the offer.
Thanks!

Me (25) and my SO (22) have been dating for about 5 months now. She is an immigrant so she doesnt have any family here. Lately I have been feeling very unfulfilled. I feel like I havent really had any new experiences. I feel like most of our relationship has been me showing her places, the country, things I love and planning things around my friends and family. I have always been a pretty isolated and lonely person, since I am a first generation immigrant myself and a single child, I am usually on my own, so trying to keep my SO interested and the relationship interesting has been a really tiring effort for me, but despite this, at best I feel like I am doing a lot of work to make her feel happy but I am not happy myself. I havent discussed this with her, because I know its not her fault or responsibility, and I also know there is nothing she can really do since she doesnt drive, and she is an immigrant here. Its hard for her to show me anything new.
She is a very very sweet and beautiful girl, and she is studying to become a lawyer so she is smart, we have good relationship prospects, but I also feel like I should be happy right now, especially in the 'honeymoon phase'. But I just feel bored, and the monotony of the every day is reaching its limit. Its not my first relationship, and in my previous relationship my partner had a lot of family and friends I didnt feel this way. Im starting to lose faith in our relationship and I dont know what to do so I am looking for advice, are my concerns valid? Is there anything I could do or say to her about this? I just feel trapped right now.

Contact me to get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator by chatting me on +44 759 388 2116 on Telegram/Whatsapp.
I have Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator.
Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator course is one of the best products on how to start a marketing agency.
Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator includes over 50 hours of step-by-step training covering EVERY aspect of building an agency from scratch. This is almost a plug & play system with enough success stories to back it up! Signing clients, running Facebook ads, building out your team, on-boarding clients, invoicing, sales... this course has everything covered for you.
The topics inside Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator course include:

1. Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
   
2. Custom E-Learning Platform For Agency Owners
   
3. Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
   
4. Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
   
5. Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements & More
   

The lessons in Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator will teach you how to:
- Starting Your Agency
- Finding Leads
- Signing Clients
- Getting Paid
- Onboarding Clients
- Managing Client Communication...
...and much, much more!
To get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator contact me on:
Whatsapp/Telegram: +44 759 388 2116
Reddit DM to u/RequestCourseAccess
Email: silverlakestore[@]yandex.com (remove the brackets)