Anyone remember this old game, I'm trying to create a simple rocket where when you hit space bar the thrusters fire and you go up a bit, then when you left off you fall back down... Was going to be a quick, simple thing, but I cant seem to get the rocket to move up like a thruster, I've tried addforce and addimpulse and can not get the rocket moving, can someone point me to the right direction on which node I should use for that? Also when I have the lander hitting the ground at the right spot how can I measure how hard the collision was? if it lands hard I want it to "Fail" - but when I break apart the hit result "On Collision" I dont see any way to find that... is there a way to do thisI'm just missing?

Hey everyone!
I've been working on a project to create a comprehensive Google Spreadsheet that lists all the major card grading companies, and I wanted to share it with the community here. Whether you're new to the hobby or a seasoned collector, this resource should help you find the right grading service for your cards.
What’s Included:

• Company Names: A list of various card grading companies.
• Countries: The countries where these companies are located.
• Websites: Direct links to their official websites.
• Special Features: Unique aspects or services offered by each company (e.g., subgrades, fast turnaround times, AI-assisted grading).

How You Can Help:

1. Review the Spreadsheet: Check out the list and let me know if there are any grading companies I've missed.
2. Share Your Experience: If you've used any of these grading services, share your experiences to help others make informed decisions.
3. Updates: If you have information on new grading companies or additional details about existing ones, please share!

Link to the Spreadsheet
Let's make this a go-to resource for everyone in the card collecting community. Your feedback and contributions will be invaluable in keeping this document up-to-date and comprehensive.
Happy collecting!

Hello Jung reddit, I'm a 23 year old male trying to figure myself out and become my own person. I don't know much about Jung yet but I've always been interested in him and his perspective has always clicked with me. Anyway, my biggest gripe for a long time has been my obsession with having sex and intimacy with women.
I wouldn't call myself hypersexualized at all, probably the opposite. I've always feared that I might be asexual because I seem to lack a "drive" to escalate and have sex with women despite wanting their intimacy and touch. As a kid (like 11-12 y/o) I remember trying to force myself to find women attractive, googling things like "hot women" and trying to figure out what every other guy sees. I think I did this out of fear of being broken or different, and I think that fear is what drives my need for sexual validation to this day.
Another thing is during my teenage years I thought I might be transgender, I was always envious of girls for their appearance and perceived privilege. All the things that a normal guy might find attractive in a woman, for me it turned into envy. I didn't watch porn, I found it gross and off-putting, I only fantasized about becoming a girl. The allure was looking like an attractive girl, inheriting their privilege and power, and also it was the embarrassment of being "forced" to act a way I would never act normally. I also fantasized about hypnosis and mind control for the same reasons.
I occasionally still feel envious of women's looks, or their clothes, or their behavior, but I think this manifested from how repressed I was about everything as a kid. I was always afraid of being inferior, afraid of being judged, and afraid to do anything that would get me scrutinized. I was the black sheep of my hyper-critical family. I could never dress how I wanted to, do what I was interested in, or make "stupid" mistakes. I always just tried to copy my brothers and fawned as they bullied me.
So as a result I never developed myself that much, especially in sexual development. Recently though, I've been doing the work I never have as a teen and trying to shed my concern for what other people think of me. And I've been exercising. I think it's working because for the first time I'm actually starting to feel a normal heterosexual sex drive. And I don't know what to do with it. I'm terrified of being broken, of never finding intimacy and of dying alone. I'm envious of other guys that can achieve intimacy and I don't know what I'm missing in myself to not achieve that. I've read the notion that you must integrate your sexuality as an aspect of your personality, and not something to be ashamed of, and while I agree, I am stuck on it. I'm still terrified of rejection, of being a creep, of having these "gross" sexual thoughts, and of my weird "kinks." While I'm working to be proud and not care for other's judgment, exposing such vulnerable parts of myself would feel like death.

I find much more enjoyment in the social, character driven aspects of D&D, rather than the combat. This is why I decided to play a human warrior, sort of forcing me to roleplay harder.
Trying to make the most out of every interaction made me a major money hungry murder-hobo. I was in a web of constant lies, deceits and distrust, killing or threatening most of our NPCs and enemies. And you can bet I described every critical hit in gruesome detail.
This culminated in my character's death. After the first part of our adventure, I opened a treasure chest to find a precious trinket. Immediately I made up a story, convincing most of the party that it was sentimentally priceless to me. One character saw through my lies, and I successfully intimidated them, but the DM allowed them to attack me.
I rolled a higher initiative, then hit on a disadvantaged hit roll (the wizard smoked up the room) and ONESHOT them from full HP. All throughout this fight I was on 1HP recovering from my second two failure save of the campaign. A goblin they befriended saw this, missed an attack on me and I one shot split the goblin in two.
Realizing the party rogue pickpocketed my health potions, leaving me to die, I surprise attacked them as they rushed to medicate the first party member. They finally knocked me down with a 7 damage stab. If I hadn't completely forgotten about second wind I could've brought about the question of a party wipe (the other two party members were on 1HP). I probably would've resolved something with the DM about it.
As it stands I killed my character off and am joining the party with a new goodie two shoes run. This was the most intense thing I've seen happen all campaign, but I will aim towards a more team oriented attitude moving forward.

as the title says. many people have told me that Ada Lovelace invented the first computer code. as far as i could find, she only invented some sort of calculation for Bernoulli (sorry for spelling) numbers.
seems to me like saying "i invented the cap to the water bottle, before the water bottle was invented"
did she do something else? am i missing something?

I need to let go of you But I don't know how My heart it still breaks Whenever your not around I miss you To forget, I cant- The thought of You, constantly in the background. It's like your the only thing that made sense in this crazy life of mine, I thought if I blocked you on everything, I'd be fine.. But I can't take the pain, everyday is dull, it's like you took the spark I once had and left me alone in the dark. I hope you come home but the hope is fading out, your so much happier with her no doubt. I'm glad your happy but I can't find mine, so maybe I guess, in the next lifetime... 🖤

So I'm thinking about restructuring my fleet to fit in an Idris. This also means winning the F5 war, but we'll get to that when we get to it. It is by far the Capital ship I am most excited for in the game. I know it has a large crew requirement, and currently my org could probably handle a Polaris, but the Polaris just doesn't quite hit all the marks to complete my SC dream. Fully crewed cap ship warfare. Even without fighting another cap ship, just the coolness factor of having that many people and other ships aboard a vessel the size of most FPS maps really appeals to me. The Idris is perfect for this. Ideally I would like to merge with another smaller org (I'm part of 2 small discord servers so this is a real possibility) or join a larger one. Point is, I will find a way to crew this thing lol. If you guys think crew size is something more to worry about, please let me know. The main competition for this is the Polaris, which I currently have. Don't get me wrong, I do like my Polaris and I'm very excited for the ship! However, I just feel the Idris fits far better in my goals. Of course there is also the option of finding someone else who has one to crew, but being the guy with an Idris vs the guy looking for one is obviously more advantageous when the primary thing you wanna do is capital ship gameplay lol. If you guys think I'm completely off base here or missing anything, once again, please let me know. Just trying to get advice and keep a respectful discussion <3
Now onto my fleet. Ideally I would like cover as many industries and roles as possible. Here is what I currently have and the melt values:
•RSI Galaxy - $380 melt •Drake Corsair - $250 melt •Anvil C8R Medical Pisces - $65 melt •RSI Polaris - $375 melt •Crusader A2 Hercules - $515 melt •Crusader C2 Hercules - $175 melt •Anvil F8C Lightning - $300 melt •Crusader BiS 2952 MSR - $185 melt •Crusader C1 Spirit - $125 melt •Aegis Eclipse - $300 melt (if you can't tell by all the Crusader ships, I'm quite the Crusader fan)
Total store credit: $2,670
What do you guys think I should do? Any recommendations are greatly appreciated. Thank you and see you all in the verse! o7

Where can we find all of the deleted scenes for American Dad online? I've seen every episode of American Dad multiple times aside from maybe the very latest season but what I just realized I haven't seen is the deleted scenes. I'd love to see more context to episodes or funny jokes I've missed. If anyone can help, it would be very appreciated.

Like my vault dweller Katy Kane has an alter ego called The Milkman.
The Milkman wears the Milkman Outfit and the Fasnacht Man mask. He sprints up to other vault dwellers, drops a gift, does the milkman dance (robot dance), then sprints off again.
I just find it hilarious the concept of this weird, creepy lookin' milkman just sprinting up to newbies, dropping gifts, doing a funny dance and then sprinting off again.
Although to be completely honest The Milkman does occasionally interact with higher level players, usually just showing up at the end of an event that he's missed and doing the milkman dance amidst the dying embers of the events' third act. But don't worry, The Milkman never takes; he only gives.
EDIT Oh yeah and sometimes when he's feeling shy he spies on newbies in their camp from afar and drops gifts at their camp while they're away.

I’ve never had this much chemistry with anyone before. Ever. We were like a soul in two bodies. I liked you, I liked hearing you talk, I liked your silly jokes, I liked the animes we watched together. I remember every single detail about you. That little hat you would wear. Your colorful shirts. I never met someone like you. I loved how respectful you were when we met in person. A true gentleman. 4 months in I had to leave… as much as I cared about you. I knew you weren’t looking for anything serious. You refused to put a label on us. You always changed the subject whenever I asked where things are going.
“Let’s take it slow” you said. “I don’t want to be committed to you” that’s what I heard.
“When are we going to meet up again?” I asked. “I’ll see you when I miss you.” You replied. Ouch!
When I was abroad, I bought you a gift. I never told you about it because I wanted it to be a surprise for when we meet in person again; an authentic silver bracelet that will match the one you wear. It’s been 5 months since I disappeared from your life and I’m still holding on to that bracelet, safely tucked in a blue box with a ribbon, hidden inside the same bag they gave me when I bought it. I don’t open it. I can’t look at it. It hurts to think that I lost you before I could have you.
I had to let you go because I was falling for you every single day and you weren’t. “I’ll be there for you as a friend” that’s what you told me. “Friend” ouch!
Part of me regrets leaving and another tells me that I made the right decision not imposing myself on you anymore. But I miss you. So much. I cried myself to sleep many many nights because of how hard I missed you. The past 5 months weren’t easy either. I’ve been going through a lot at work and all I needed is a shoulder to cry on but you weren’t there.
And I’m left alone not knowing what to do.
I ghosted you. I admit it. But I did it because I felt unwanted, especially in the few weeks before I leave.
Do I text you and tell that I miss you or move on with my life risking not finding what I found in you ever again? Will you text back or leave me on read?

exes

right start this off by saying that i (24f) am unemployed, my days have zero structure apart from waking up to hunt for a job and i alway suffer with depression which has been baaad lately but i'm trying my best to cope.
for about two months now my sleep schedule has been an absolute wreck and i'm starting to lose my mind slightly. a typical night looks something like me eventually going to sleep around 8am and waking up mid/late afternoon which then leads me to operating at unsociable hours and basically missing out on the whole day. i'm also a bit depressed right now and i find myself sleeping in the early evening so i don't have to deal with All of That.
this cycle has started to break me - i feel like i'm not functioning correctly and it seems that i've tried everything from winding down, mindfulness and OTC medications (i'm in the uk so our options for sleep meds are slightly limited) but nothing works. today (sunday) i went to sleep around 9am woke up at 3pm was in a bad mood so i went back to sleep from around 4pm to 9pm.
how do i break this? am i doomed? does anyone have any recommendation how i can get this back to normal without having to stay up for 20+ hours? i really just want to be awake and functioning at normal hours so that i can start to buckle down and find a job as well as get my mental health somewhat alright again :(

I apologize for the sheer wall of text but maybe this will be good cathartic Sunday reading? It helps a lot to write it out. I am a 49M widower, three years out of losing my wife (48F), father of three adult kids. Last year I felt I was ready to find love again, and joined a dating app. Very quickly I matched with Lexi (47F, not her real name) and was smitten right away.
I am in the tech and startup space in my city and she had just moved from the opposite coast with a tech background and two exits. In fact, she swiped on me because we had just connected by email two weeks earlier because she was looking to join the startup scene in her new home.
She was so accomplished and warm and smart. She was into Buddhism and spoke much of the language of my childhood in terms of peace and joy. We had so much in common. We quickly talked about cofounding a startup, I loved her own dreams for the future, she was supportive of mine. We were honest and vulnerable and despite feeling utterly naive and awkward it felt great.
It was also complicated. She had been married twice before, the most recent physically abusive and prompting her cross-country escape with her two sons. She was self-aware enough to know she was dealing with the trauma and I was wholeheartedly supportive. Practical things like helping her finish all the paperwork for her divorce or keeping a distance so as not to upset her kids made sense.
But over time and sometimes with great pain we would run into triggers and need to break and reset. Our attempts to do something together were too hard because she would fear losing control—which made sense. She was terrified of not having support in a new city and I made sure to be available to her as much as possible—down to reserving certain hours every day to be with her. She asked me to move into her building, then panicked because her sons might see me, so I moved into the building next door.
I loved her so much and wanted to do everything to keep her happy or at least feeling safe. Maybe my years as a caretaker to my late wife conditioned me in this way. But Lexi and I knew we both were in complex places in our lives and tried hard to navigate things. She read about dating a widower, I read about PTSD and ASD—something she felt explained a lot going back to childhood, from sensory sensitivity to difficulty reading nuance in social situations. As an awkward guy myself, I was empathetic.
We co-developed a shared document that basically helped us avoid landmines. When our daily time together would be. Where to park so she wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t home. Boundaries to protect her kids—which did feel like we were sneaking around and would fill her with guilt. She loved to cook and had specific dietary preferences and I adopted the same diet (and still stick to it, mostly, because it did improve my health). She said she felt safer the more of my face she could see, so I changed my glasses and shaved my facial hair. She was afraid of getting pregnant so I got my long-planned vasectomy.
And this all sound crazy, but I was happy to do it, and she seemed to be trying hard, too. She adopted ASD coping strategies, we put reminders around our respective homes, she even put my photo on her wall as part of a ranked list of priorities… though I think I came after her boys and her dogs. (I’m a cat person but loved her dogs, dogsat her dogs, and the regular walks were a main way we spent time together, even when things were rocky.) More articles and books, personality tests, studying results to find paths forward. She had a science background so did find some comfort in analyzing us.
The biggest trigger was that I would sometimes travel out of town. I work remotely so it wasn’t hard to just stay put. But before we met I’d planned to go to a big concert in LA with my daughter, and couldn’t not go. That one weekend trip was the biggest hurdle we faced. I even paid for therapy for her and kept my promise to keep in constant touch—but it caused a two-week break, and a lot of anguish thereafter. She felt abandoned even as I showed in every way that I was committed. A couple of times she had panic attacks and curled into a ball while we were out and about. Once she ran from me, genuinely afraid of me, when I had gotten frustrated and made a sarcastic remark.
Because of her past abuse, the physical side of our relationship was also tricky. There were rules here, too, but as a middle-age effective virgin, I was still into it. I’d only had one serious partner in my life, so everything was new and amazing… but for it to also be a hot-cold-voracious-guilt rollercoaster was… confusing. A few times I would be strong enough to say, “If this is too hard, we could just be friends.” But THAT was, as you might imagine, another huge threat to her sense of safety.
Until she concluded the same. We pledged—via email, because by then even text messages were too intense for her—to be good, single friends. Walks, hikes, movies. Love you always. Then no contact for four months. She mailed my keys back to me.
Of course, I still lived next door, and ran into her maybe four times during that span. She seemed stricken a couple of times, and would not speak, not really look up, and twice crossed the street to avoid me. Her dogs were happy to see me, which made it especially awkward. I tell you, I felt like the worst person on earth, a man who failed to be a good partner and caretaker when I thought that was a strength. I was worried that I made her PTSD worse, that she was a wreck…
Until three weeks ago, our anniversary. She said she was sorry for causing me pain and wanted to be friends. I could have fainted dead. We met up for lunch.
She was glowing. She was so happy. Her sons were now both adults and she decided they were going to be just fine, and feeling liberated. She wasn’t ASD, it was just PTSD. She had started a graduate program to become a therapist (something we discussed), happy to both be able to tap her experiences to help others and to have the chance to practice with herself and classmates. She turned her love of cooking into selling her stuff at a local market (something we discussed). gave up her diet because it made it hard to date. And she’d been dating. And had a boyfriend who was taking her out of town for a week. I immediately saw the brilliant woman I first met, and was frankly gutted. I was happy she was happy, I was crushed that she got where she is AFTER me, not WITH me.
My friends tell me she was genuinely troubled and that PTSD doesn’t just vanish in a few months. That she was wearing a mask with me, and that this new boyfriend—with whom she also has amazing commonalities—is getting the same “mimic” behavior. That, if anything, her wanting to reconnect means she’s looking to assuage guilt or regain a part of her still critical support system. That I turned myself inside out for her, and the most important question to ask myself is whether I should be as open to being friends as I am. They're afraid she might want to get back together eventually because I was so accommodating—and they might be right.
I made a lot of changes in my life for her, many positive, many that still persist. I feel like it would be a waste to go through what we did and NOT be friends. But I definitely went through the wringer and I feel like I’m now the one recovering from trauma. I believe in therapy and am going to work on this. But I’d value an objective take.
TDLR; First relationship as a widower was to an amazing but complex woman was very fraught and fell apart. After no contact for four months she asked to meet up, and she was glowing and normal and I’m shook. Was it bad timing and I missed my chance, or is she maybe not really okay? And can we still be friends?

• Lesson video
• Complementary video

INTRO

Today we’ll look at how you find files, and text inside these files, quickly and efficiently.
It can be very frustrating to know that a file or setting exists, but not be able to track it down! Master today’s commands and you’ll be much more confident as you administer your systems.
Today you’ll look at some useful tools:

• locate
• find
• grep
• which

YOUR TASKS TODAY

• Find all files that have the word "Permission" in it

INSTRUCTIONS

locate

If you're looking for a file called access.log then the quickest approach is to use "locate" like this:

$ locate access.log /valog/apache2/access.log /valog/apache2/access.log.1 /valog/apache2/access.log.2.gz 

(If locate is not installed, do so with sudo apt install mlocate)
As you can see, by default it treats a search for "something" as a search for "*something*". It’s very fast because it searches an index, but if this index is out of date or missing it may not give you the answer you’re looking for. This is because the index is created by the updatedb command - typically run only nightly by cron. It may therefore be out of date for recently added files, so it can be worthwhile updating the index by manually running: sudo updatedb.

find

The find command searches down through a directory structure looking for files which match some criteria - which could be name, but also size, or when last updated etc. Try these examples:

find /var -name access.log find /home -mtime -3 

The first searches for files with the name "access.log", the second for any file under /home with a last-modified date in the last 3 days.
These will take longer than locate did because they search through the filesystem directly rather from an index. Also, because find uses the permissions of the logged-in user you’ll get “permission denied” messages for many directories if you search the whole system. Starting the command with sudo of course will run it as root - or you could filter the errors with grep like this: find /var -name access.log 2>&1 grep -vi "Permission denied".
These examples are just the tip of a very large iceberg, check the articles in the RESOURCES section and work through as many examples as you can - time spent getting really comfortable with find is not wasted.

grep -R

Rather than asking "grep" to search for text within a specific file, you can give it a whole directory structure, and ask it to recursively search down through it, including following all symbolic links (which -r does not). This trick is particularly handy when you "just know" that an item appears "somewhere" - but are not sure where.
As an example, you know that “PermitRootLogin” is an ssh parameter in a config file somewhere under /etc, but can’t recall exactly where it is kept:
grep -R -i "PermitRootLogin" /etc/*
Because this only works on plain text files, it's most useful for the /etc and /valog folders. (Notice the -i which makes the search “case insensitive”, finding the setting even if it’s been entered as “Permitrootlogin”
You may now have logs like /valog/access.log.2.gz - these are older logs that have been compressed to save disk space - so you can't read them with less, or search them with grep. However, there are zless and zgrep, which do work, and on ordinary as well as compressed files.

which

It's sometimes useful to know where a command is being run from. If you type nano, and it starts, where is the nano binary coming from? The general rule is that the system will search through the locations setup in your "path". To see this type:
echo $PATH
To see where nano comes from, type:
which nano
Try this for grep, vi and service and reboot. You'll notice that they’re typically always in subfolders named bin, but that there are several different ones.

EXTENSION

The -exec feature of the find command is extremely powerful.
But "finding things" can go so much further than that! You can not only track down the content of a file, but also its usage with commands like lsof and fuser.
Test some examples of this from the RESOURCES links.

RESOURCES

• 25 find command examples...
• 10 Tips for using "find"
• Five simple recipes for "grep"
• How to use the lsof command to troubleshoot Linux
• Learn "fuser", a little-known Linux workhorse command!

TROUBLESHOOT AND MAKE A SAD SERVER HAPPY!

Practice what you've learned with some challenges at SadServers.com:

• "Saint John": what is writing to this log file?

PREVIOUS DAY'S LESSON

• Day 10 - Getting the computer to do your work for you

Some rights reserved. Check the license terms here

Welcome back to my running series of WWF PPV Reviews from a ‘blind’ perspective (I have no idea what’s going to happen; the results, the feuds or how good any of the matches will be). I have always heard stories of the attitude era and golden age but never watched it myself so I set myself to watching every single PPV event chronologically. I am also watching Wrestling Bios ‘reliving the war’ series to keep me updated inbetween the events with the feuds, and to get excited about upcoming matches.
Before I review the matches, based on the past few episodes of raw and last PPVs I’ll let you know, going into the event, which match I’m most excited for and which feud I’m most excited to see.
The match I’m most excited to see has gotta be Bret hart vs Undertaker. Two absolute all timers in the ring for the championship at summerslam? I mean come on what else can I pick it’s a sure fire banger.
The feud im most excited to see is actually Mankind vs HHH, I think they’ve got a really good dynamic and opening the show after last Ppv is genuinely exciting.
WWF Summerslam 1997 Match Ratings
HHH vs Mankind Steel Cage Match 2.75/5
Goldust vs Brian Pillman 1/5
The Godwinns vs Legion of Doom 1.25/5
Bulldog vs Shamrock 2.25/5
Los Boricuas vs Disciples of Apocalypse 0.5/5
Owen Hart vs Stone Cold Steve Austin 3.5/5
Bret Hart vs Undertaker 4.25/5
The steel cage match is actually the first I’ve seen since starting this journey so well over a year with no kind of cage match, definitely adds a level of anticipation and excitement.
In terms of the actual match tho it wasn’t anything too special and honestly their match at Canadian stampede was way more entertaining. There were however a couple of completely nuts spots, mankind being suplexed from the top of the cage, and mankind delivering a flying elbow from the top of the cage, he is just an insane man; how he did all these crazy bumps never ending his career super early or anything is just divine intervention. It’s good entertainment but it wasn’t the best match. It is however very telling of what’s to come in the WWF with upcoming PPVs, with hell in a cell and more insane high flying spots.
What I am loving is Mick Foleys character development, he comes to the ring as mankind, does his bang bang as a call back to cactus jack and at the end when he’s hurt, dude loves music plays, his foot starts moving and he starts dancing (ish). Everyone absolutely loved it and so did I.
The Pillman match against Goldust was very boring, I didn’t expect too much as I’m not that big of a Goldust fan if I’m completely honest; I just think he isn’t that exciting to watch. Pillman ends up losing which means… he has to wear a dress on raw? 😂 this whole gimmick match and feud is just an L for me. The crowd was surprisingly into it, but I don’t really know what to say about it, it was just a snooze fest.
Looking this match up I realised Pillman was injured during this event and he sadly passed away two months after this. Rest in peace he was a fantastic unhinged character and that’s a real shame. He just couldn’t perform as his body wouldn’t let him anymore.
Well that’s a rather sour note but let’s move onto the most established entertaining tag team at this point in the WWF legion of doom. But it’s a real shame that they had to get in with the godwinns as when the godwinns were in control which was over half the match they seriously slowed to to a snails pace, holding for way way too long. That spike piledriver at the end was cool by the legion of doom but to be honest most of the match was just another snoozefest. Just skip the last two matches.
Inbetween the next match there’s a SEVEN MINUTE section where they had this million dollar chance between a couple of live contestants and a couple of phone calls, no one ends up winning and it’s just pointless. Man the start to this event has been a mixed bag…
Shamrock actually has a very valid reason to be mad at the bulldog, with him having the bulldog throw dog food on him, so let’s hope this is a physical match to really get this PPV going.
And it was decently physical to be fair to them, I’m not sure I’m shamrock was out on his feet for a portion of it as he was no selling a few punches and had a busted lip so there’d been some sort of connection somewhere. Like I say though the angle they were going for was cooler than the actual match and it was satisfying seeing that after the match shamrock got himself DQd and just lost it, beating the bulldog after he threw dog food on him again, holding a chin lock on him so long he passes out, using finishers in referees, this was cool. The match was about restoring his honour in a way and he certainly did that. The crowd goes nuts and he’s in the ring just screaming, bloody brilliant. The actual match was a little lacking though and this should set up for a good match coming up.
And oh boy was I wrong genuinely I don’t know why but this match was so awful. For pretty much 90% of the time the wrestlers just didn’t know what to do. There were no impressive spots, no playing to the crowd, no psychology just nada. Like the last event I watched the ppv can benefit from less matches that are better booked. I don’t know why this match exists, I don’t know what it achieved. One thing that was insane was the amount of body hair Perez has… like it’s an insane amount, it’s not normal 😂 I couldn’t help but just look at it in complete awe like what the hell am I seeing? But when a man’s body hair is more entertaining than the match that’s a problem. When the pinfall came the crowd literally, I’m not joking, had 0 reaction. Avoid like the plague.
The next match I’m honestly having really mixed feelings about. Owen hart and Austin on paper should be a good match, and that it is… but this is when Austin’s neck was broken and he was temporarily paralysed after a botched piledriver. So this means… Austin is probably gunna go more part time after this. I don’t know this but I’m just assuming but we’ll see. IM NOT READY!!
Before I mention the injury again, the match was going extremely well and it was a tremendously entertaining bout. I find it crazy that they were making a big deal of Owen working the neck only for him to actually break it. The different styles of the wrestlers, Owen being technical and stone cold being a brawler really made for a pure class match. I’d imagine they were going to go a bit longer but had to come up with a new finish on the spot so credit to them for that. And ouch it was a horrible spot to see, knowing what was coming up I winced and cringed so hard when it happened. Owen does a good job of playing up to the crowd after the botch and covering over for the pinfall but seeing Austin just completely dead in the ring like that is heartbreaking after seeing his rise. They played it off so well in fact that the crowd doesn’t really seem to notice. Austin seems to insist on getting himself standing up and raising the belt, and he refuses help until he gets out of the arena, truly amazing dedication to the wwf and why he was and is a superstar. It’s a real shame it had to end like that because again they were performing really well and putting on a good show. Reading about it Austin was out for 3 months after this and apparently Owen hart was meant to drop to his knees not sit down which had a big part to do with the botch. GOD DAMN IT!! But we all know he returns an even bigger superstar, so I’ve got that to look forward to.
Okay enough about the injury, let’s get onto the main event.
Shawn being the referee and knowing the fighting that was happening backstage for real between Bret and Shawn made this really exciting. I bet this is gunna be full of drama!
The match starts off at break-neck pace (pun intended) with Bret hart smashing undertaker across the back with a belt and there’s no DQ because the bell hasn’t been rung yet. They exchange blows together as it goes back and forth in and out of the ring and I’m loving every second. Paul bearer eventually makes his way to the ring only the be smacked multiple times right on the jaw and god there’s something so satisfying about Paul bearer getting clocked. Multiple times Shawn is actually acting as a good referee which adds to the drama as Bret is keeping a close eye on him. Some of the hart foundation also come to the outside of the ring and undertaker does his iconic lean on the ropes to almost backflip outside the ring which looks so good and beats the hell out of them. I thought this would be dramatic!
This match was actually an absolute banger I really enjoyed it. Hart plays his heel perfectly as usual during the whole bout and when he’s eventually victorious the ring is filled with trash and people showering him with abuse. I thought even though this was a pretty long match at 30 minutes they were able to fill most of it with good action. The last 5 minutes were especially dramatic with a steel chair getting involved, Shawn is hurt on the outside and hart smacks undertaker clean across the head with it, Shawn notices the chair when he comes back into the ring and calls Bret out, Bret then spits on Shawn and he ducks as Shawn swings for him with the chair, he hits undertaker and that’s all she wrote. I think the match could’ve benefitted from being a bit shorter in all honesty; focus the action down to a shorter time but a longer match with Shawn as the special referee, undertaker vs Bret, WWF title, you can’t complain about it being too long. I would’ve liked to have seen a bit more offense from undertaker as his striking ability and in ring moves are so exciting to watch. But great match and it felt like a big main event as it should do at summerslam.
Overall the PPV had a great ending, a good start, and a terrible mid card. I really hope they don’t go back to booking boring mid cards with wrestlers they know can’t put on a show, instead they can stick with less matches with more quality. I did enjoy watching this though. I think the PPV will always be known for the piledriver botch but I think the main event is worth a watch as well. I also think this event was worth noting that a lot of people feel this is the beginning of the attitude era, people saying survivor series as well or December 1997 but we’ll see.
Overall rating 2.75/5

I believed in fairies as a kid. More than believed in them. I think something terrible happened to me, and I've just buried it until now.
Call me a typical emotion-bottling man, but I have never considered therapy. No matter what I went through, no matter how many times I thought to myself, verbatim, that I should talk to someone about this, I just never thought of it as an option. It simply wasn't on my roster. It was just one of those things that existed on a separate plane of existence than I was living in, never to cross paths or interact lest the universe collapse in on itself.
I have no problem with therapy, don't get me wrong. It isn't like I don't understand the overall appeal. I have plenty of friends who swear by it, swear it has helped them tremendously, including my wife. It just wasn't ever something I thought was in my cards.
"I just never really thought about it," I told Alice one evening, when she had brought the topic up once again after dinner.
There was a serene sense of peace wafting through the entire house that day, and I was feeling content. It was a Sunday, and swimming season, so we had dropped Emmie off that morning at the public pool for practice and gone straight to our favorite breakfast place. The rest of the day was filled with all the conversation that had built up over the week, all the topics we couldn't fully dig into with each other while babysitting our eight year old, and lounging, all crammed in between sporadic bursts of housework and paperwork we had to catch up on. It was the perfect day, in my humble opinion. It was a lovely moment of peace in the midst of a chaotic life, as is life with kids. And now the sounds of Mario Kart drifted in from the living room, Emmie's squeals cutting through the cheery music every now and then, causing Alice and I to share small smiles of acknowledgement.
Oh, to be a child again. Still a little drenched from a post-swimming shower, full of chili, eyes glowing with the reflection of a television screen.
"Well, maybe you should." My wife was scooping leftover chili into a Tupperware with a ladle. Her hair had been tied up like it was every day after dinner, as if she planned to run a marathon rather than do the cleaning up. She wasn't looking at me, dialed into the task at hand.
It's crazy how some parts of my memory could be so good, and others nonexistent.
I reached over from where I stood before the dishwasher, sliding my arm around her waist. She gave me a look, like, what?
"I just don't think it's for me, babe," I muttered, resting my mouth on her shoulder as if I was trying to skip her ears and speak right through her skin. "You know those things make me uncomfortable sometimes."
She let out a half groan, half sigh, setting down the container and the ladle and turning to face me, draping her arms over my shoulders.
"Everything makes you uncomfortable, John."
I smiled, letting my hands fall to her hips. I knew her frustrated act was just that, an act, at least for the most part.
"It's good for you," she continued pointedly, reaching up to tap her pointer finger against my forehead as I swayed her back and forth to a nonexistent tune. "Like medicine. And I know for a fact there are some things you need to work through."
I feigned offense. "You think I'm some kind of nut job?"
"Everyone needs therapy," she snarled, pulling out of my arms, but she didn't resist when I reached out and drew her back in. "Not just nut jobs."
And that was how most of those conversations went. Some got a little more heated, ending with a lightly slammed door (so as not to wake our daughter) and a whisper-shout of "this is why you need therapy!"
I feel I'm making it sound bad, but it wasn't. Even our more serious fights never quite felt like fights. They felt like playing. We were like two cats, biting and tackling and swishing our tails, but never baring our teeth to hiss. I never felt genuine, full-bodied anger towards her, and I knew she felt the same. It sounds sappy, but we were just very in love. I sometimes felt that we had never actually left the honeymoon phase.
I'm also making it sound like that conversation was incredibly common, and it wasn't. It came up maybe once every few months. I knew she was just looking out for me. She knew me better than anyone.
We had met through mutual friends, and we had initially bonded over our terrible childhoods. We both had moms who were out of the picture, and over emotional, over compensating dads, although this manifested in vastly different ways. Alice's mother left her father for a D-list rockstar type, following him on his state wide tour. She would sometimes send Alice letters or postcards from the road, although her dad wouldn't always let her keep them if they seemed to be stained with blood or seemed to have made contact with any strange white powders.
Her dad coped with anger. He never laid a hand on her, but his shouting and the sounds of glass bottles smashing against the walls kept her up almost every night. During the days he'd take her out, buy her things, go mini golfing and bowling and to the movies. Anything to seem more fun than her mother.
My mother passed away on my seventh birthday. She was driving home from work, which was at a law firm half an hour away from our house, when it began to rain. She was texting my dad her ETA when she ran a red light and a semi truck T-boned her, completely obliterating her car.
After that, everything changed. My seventh birthday could've been my twenty-first. At night it was the worst. I remember sitting with my dad as he cried, curled up in a sobbing ball on the filthy living room carpet, whimpering like a kicked puppy. He would scream and wail so loud the walls shook. He would say, over and over as if I wasn't hearing him, sometimes mumbling and sometimes shrieking, "She was cut in half. I'm sorry sir, she's gone. No, there's no chance she survived, she was completely cut in half."
The days were almost worse. During the day, when he could decrease the helpless wails into weeping at the very least, his attention turned to me. He tried to get something out of me, almost silently begging me to break down with him. Every other second it was, "How are you feeling, son? Do you understand what's happening? You poor thing, you must be devastated, your mommy is gone... Don't you want to cry?"
But I couldn't indulge, and I didn't want to. I had to wash the sheets, because he'd pissed them again, and I didn't want him to sleep in it and smell like pee when he took me to school the next day. I had to vacuum the carpet, so the next time he curled up on it and begged God to take him too, when he finally stood up, his cheek wouldn't be caked in crumbs and dust.
I don't know if I ever truly mourned. My mother's death was more like an absence, as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and carved a chunk out of my side, or snipped off a limb. I could still feel her, I could still talk to her, but all I got back was a deep ache and a crushing silence.
I hated how people reacted when I told them my mom was dead, and had been since I was a little boy. I hated the looks on their faces when they asked how she died, and when I told them. How their mouths fell open dumbly and their eyebrows twisted and contorted in sympathetic horror. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know," they said, as if there was vomit rising in their throats, and I wanted to say, "Well, you fucking asked, didn't you?"
Alice never reacted like that. In fact, she never really even asked me what happened. We were on our second date, nursing beers while leaning against the pool table a a dingy speakeasy, when she told me about her own mom. It was the first time in a long time I actually felt like the conversation was open, like I could respond and she would listen and care, but not too much. Not an uncomfortable amount. When I told her about my parents she didn't say anything, and her pretty face didn't contort. She leaned over the corner of the pool table and kissed me on the cheek, took my hand.
The day she found out she was pregnant, we promised each other to be better, to not let our child ever have to grieve alone or feel the very specific hopeless terror that only a parent can cause.
So maybe I should have listened to her. Maybe I should have gone to therapy the first time she brought it up, the first time she told me how it had helped her get through her own terrible memories. But if I'm being honest, I didn't think I had anything to get through. I had left it in the past, I had coped so far in my own somewhat crooked way, I didn't want to dig any of that back up. I didn't want to be put back in that place where I was expected to talk, to cry, to open up. It made my skin crawl just thinking about it.
"I was always the therapist," I would say to her with a crooked grin. "And I like it that way."
Then, the dreams started.
I could tell you I don't know what triggered them, I don't know why it was now. But that wouldn't be the truth. I know exactly why I started to remember.
At first, they were brief. Nightmares that I couldn't quite recall or explain, waking up disoriented and a little sick. The rest of my day would feel strange, like I was surrounded by a thick fog. Eventually, they started to wake me up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and screaming, scaring the shit out of my wife. Once I ran to the bathroom and threw up, barely making it to the toilet. That was when the word "therapy" came up again.
It feels like I've been in a coma for twenty years, and I'm just waking up now.
It's so strange how different the world looks to a child.
I believed in fairies as a kid. Laugh it up if you want. When I turned four, my aunt brought me this book - we've all had one, I think. It was one of those huge hardcover books filled with information about something mythical, with little patches of fabric to simulate a mermaid's scales or a dragon's claw.
Mine was about fairies, and it was so real to me. My mom would sit up with me later than she probably should have, reading to me, placing my hand on the textures to feel. I wanted to know everything about them, I became obsessed, and naturally, my parents played along. They bought me toys, books... every year I had a fae themed birthday cake, and any kid who dared to giggle behind their hands weren't invited to next year's celebration.
When I was old enough to use the internet, supervised of course, I began further research. My mom helped me navigate Wikipedia first, and they had plenty of information to sustain me for a while. My interest turned from wings and magical powers to different types of fae from every corner of the earth, mushroom rings and their alleged distaste for iron. While I still wasn't very good at reading, I would just look at the pictures until she got home from work.
When my mom died, the fairy memorabilia began to amp up. My aunt bought me new books, gave them to me wrapped and tied with ribbons with tear filled eyes, and my dad brought them up whenever he thought I needed comforting and felt strong enough to leave the house. "Wanna go look in the forest for fairies, son?"
I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I began to worship the fairies. I was convinced they lived in the forest behind my house, just behind each tree I looked at, hiding from me. I would spend my weekends escaping into the woods with a bucket and a cheap pair of binoculars, positive that this time, this day, I would see one.
At night, when my dad finally passed out in his own puddle of tears and other bodily fluids, I would pray to them. I never believed in God, we weren't a particularly religious family, and besides, I had seen what good He had done for my dad thus far. But I believed in the fairies.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
They never answered.
Until they did.
It was a Friday. I remember now, I'm not sure how I could have forgotten. After school I had sprinted into the shade of the trees before my dad could stop me, gripping the hem of my shirt in my fist, the thin fabric bearing the weight of two handfuls of the shiniest silverware and most colorful buttons I could find in our dusty cabinets.
I had a plan that day. I was going to lure them to me.
My path began in a clearing where I thought a ring of mushrooms may have begun to grow... but even without that, it was just the perfect spot for fairies. I could picture them flitting between the trees, chirping to each other happily, picking wildflowers to weave into flower crowns.
I walked backwards all the way back to my bedroom window, dropping another item every few steps. When I got inside and looked out my window, I could see my trail of shiny things curve through the overgrown grass in our backyard and disappear into the trees.
I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. Tonight, surely, they would come to me. They would show themselves, and they would help me. But after another few late hours of coddling my father, finally convincing him to drink some water and get in bed, I was exhausted. I completely forgot about my plan. When I got to my room I collapsed on my mattress, not even bothering to undress before I closed my eyes.
Then I heard it. The scratching.
I opened my eyes. The moonlight shining through my bedroom window casted strange shadows across my ceiling, shadows of the swaying grass and the creaking trees.
It was strangely silent, other than the sound. Usually there was lots of noise, or at the very least a few crickets, but not tonight. Tonight, I realized, I couldn't even hear the wind.
I sat up slowly, as if in a dream, and looked toward my window. I couldn't see anything out there, nothing glaringly obvious at least, that could be making that noise.
The scratching turned to a tap. Tap tap tap, like a fingernail against a glass. It had a playful air to it, like someone was saying, look over here!
I stood, rubbing my eyes, and stumbled over. The tapping stopped abruptly when I got to the window and peered outside, out to the dark yard, pitch black if not for the moon's glow. The grass didn't sway, the trees didn't creak. I frowned and unlatched the window, sliding it up above my head.
I was right, there was no wind. Not even a gust. Everything was still outside, like it was frozen. I actually started to believe it was frozen, that time had stopped completely somehow, before I saw it.
My trail of silverware and buttons. Sparkling softly in the moonlight.
Disappearing.
It began where the path met the trees, curving off where I couldn't follow it anymore. A fork disappeared right before my eyes, right on the edge. Just vanished, as if someone who was invisible had picked it up and stuffed it in a pocket very quickly.
Then another went, a spoon. Then a particularly large gold button. Whatever was taking them was doing what I had wanted, it was taking my bait, it was coming to me. And it was as if whatever had tapped at my window had wanted me to see this, wanted to show me.
But something felt very, very wrong.
This wasn't how I had pictured it. There was no twinkling, tiny winged thing at my window, winking at me before dashing back into the safety of the trees. There were no secrets being whispered in my ear, no fairy dust or promises of better things.
Something about this wasn't right. It felt like a mimicry, almost a mockery, of what I had imagined. Like something was trying to give me what I wanted, but was rusty at it.
I didn't want this anymore.
My stomach twisted and my hands shook as I pulled the window back down slowly, watching more glittery things disappear from the grass, growing closer and closer. As soon as it was closed I quickly locked it and pulled the blinds shut, turning my back to the window as if something would happen that I didn't want to see.
Nothing happened. The deafening silence continued for a few seconds as my ears strained to hear anything else happening outside. Then the wind picked up, and the sounds of crickets, muffled by my closed window, filled the night air.
I don't remember when I fell asleep that night, I just know I felt unnerved and jumpy for a while. I woke up the next morning feeling guilty. Had the fairies really come last night? Maybe they had come to talk to me, to bring me gifts, favors, and what had I done? I had closed my window on them. I felt ungrateful. Why had I even been scared? Because it was dark outside? What was I, a baby?
When I opened my window and peered outside, I gasped. The trail of silverware and buttons was completely gone, all the way up to the last one, which I had placed on my windowsill. In its place was a shoe. I didn't know what kind of shoe it was, but it looked sort of nice, fancy. I remember smiling out the window as I opened it, as if they were looking, and taking my gift.
How could I forget that night? How could I have forgotten what happened after? I feel crazy, either like I made it all up or like I've made up everything since then, like my life isn't truly my own.
I remember telling my dad. I remember saying, "Dad, the fairies came last night!" and the absent smile he gave me.
Until I showed him their gift. The shoe. Instantly his face went pale and he snatched it from my hands, staring at me as if I was something unholy.
"Where did you get this, Johnny?"
"The fairies, dad, I told you!"
He didn't respond. Just gave me another long, solemn look, before turning away from me, still holding the present I received close to his chest. I was upset, but I knew better than throwing a tantrum. That would be too much emotion anyways, too uncomfortable. Even back then, I didn't know how to handle those things.
I didn't show him their gifts after that. I didn't want to risk having them taken away. I tried not to be scared of the fairies, even though they always came at night, but I didn't go to my window when they came anymore. I read everywhere that fairies didn't particularly like to be seen, even though this one seemed to want to be. It always began with tapping, but otherwise complete silence that almost felt like it was swallowing me... and eventually the tapping would stop, the silence would pass, and I would fall asleep. In the morning there was always another gift for me, sitting on my window sill. A sparkly gold ring, the other matching shoe, a hat... I smiled when I took every one, wanting them to know I was grateful. And I would leave things for them too, little sweets or shiny things like coins or paperclips that I found on the ground at school.
Things seemed to get better with my dad for a while. He kept to himself more, he was quieter. At night he would cry softly in his room, rather than his uproarious wails that I used to have to quell so the neighbors wouldn't come knocking. During the day, he would talk to me, but more casually. He didn't ask me how I was feeling anymore, or tell me to let it out.
I hoped this was the fairies. I felt invincible, like I had a secret superpower that no one knew about. I was friends with fairies.
Then one night, everything changed.
It started with the tapping, as always. That night I was fast asleep, catching up on well earned rest since the nightly therapy sessions had ceased.
The tapping woke me. It was that loud. It was louder than usual... but it seemed like it stopped abruptly as soon as I raised my head to look.
That was different...
That night, I had left my blinds up and my window open by accident. Since that first night, even though I wasn't scared anymore, I had always closed them... but this time, I must have forgotten.
It was silent outside. It seemed darker than usual. I could almost make out something, a shape, way on the other side of the yard, but it was too dark and I was too far away to tell.
That feeling from that first night retuned. A twisting like a hand reaching into my stomach and mixing things around, a heavy feeling in my chest like someone had stolen all of the air from my room, even though the window was open. The silence seemed to crush me, bearing down on me from every angle, making my ribs hurt.
The feeling that something was very wrong.
I don't remember deciding to stand: looking back, I have no idea why I would do that in my state of fight or flight. I don't know if I consciously chose to. I don't remember walking over, but I remember getting there, my hands on the windowsill and my head poking out into the completely still night air.
There was something there. On the edge of the trees. Right where I had seen that first fork disappear into thin air. I squinted, leaning further into the darkness to try and make out what it was.
When I finally did, the outline taking shape as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to shake uncontrollably. I remember that I tried to scream, but no sound would come. I couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare.
Two legs stood in front of the trees, facing me. Two legs, a blood-soaked pair of slacks, no shoes on the purple, swollen feet. And a jagged, violent rip in the torso where the rest of my mother's body had been severed from its lower half.
It took me a while to realize that the legs weren't standing on their own. They began to move, jerking clumsily toward the window, like something I couldn't see was struggling to hold them up. I finally forced myself out of my trance and fell to my carpet, vomiting.
I don't remember much else about that night yet. My dad came running when I started crying, I'm sure, but he didn't see what I saw. My mom's legs were gone, or hidden. Because they weren't for him.
They were for me.
We moved after that. Before now if you had asked me why we moved so far away so suddenly, I probably would have mumbled something about the grief, and it being too hard to stay where my mother had died. But I remember why now.
It was because the next morning, when I checked my windowsill, there was a hand. My mother's hand. Purple and stiff, and missing her gold wedding ring. Reaching, fingers rested against the glass, like it was trying to get in.
Like it had been tapping.
I don't want to think about what else it might have brought, had we stayed.
That thing, whatever it was, wasn't my mother, and it wasn't a fairy. I had invited something else with all my praying, with all my naive and innocent beliefs, and with all my bottled up emotions. I had invited it, and I had let it in.
And then I had forgotten everything. Maybe I bottled that up, too.
Now I remember. Now I'm having nightmares, and waking up with that sick feeling in my gut, my eyes jumping to our closed bedroom window.
Because a week ago, my daughter woke me up very early in the morning my jumping on our bed. A week ago, she shook me awake, her eager smile stretching all the way across her face. A week ago, she told me, "Dad, the fairies came last night!"
She showed me a doll, a ballerina, with a pink tutu and beautiful long blonde hair.
And now, with all these terrible memories hitting me like cold water to the face, only one keeps me awake at night.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
It has granted two of my wishes, in its own twisted way. My father grew distant from me and my mother was brought back in pieces.
I'm happy now. But I don't have peace. I don't think I'll ever fully have peace, at least not with a child and a wife to try and provide for, and not with all of these memories.
So what has it come back for?

Hi all!
I (25F) am currently a marketing coordinator in Atlanta for a dental specialty company making 38K a year. I graduated with my PR degree in 2021 and wasn’t able to find work in marketing until 2023, but I have previous experience working closely with a professional sports team in an unrelated field (digital asset manager)
I want to start out by saying that my low salary is definitely my own doing. In the interview process (4 interviews + a personal phone call from the COO), I was asked how much I would like to be compensated. I was fearful of being rejected for the position by asking for too much, so I settled on asking for “anything above 35K” as to not scare an offer away. They let me know that I was an easy choice + the most suited for the position, and they offered me 38K. Sweet, I’ll take it.
The original scope of responsibilities included doing the referral marketing for all of our company’s offices for the state I live in. It’s a remote/hybrid position (which I realize is a huge blessing and understand why they are offering the lower end of the salary), but just a week after my start date I came to realize that all 4 of the other marketing coordinators in different regions were making almost 11K more than I am at their start date. I chalk this up to me being too afraid to ask for any more compensation, so again, no worries.
I didn’t start feeling slighted/overwhelmed until they entirely changed the scope of my responsibilities. At the beginning of 2024, our manager let us know that we would no longer personally be doing the face-to-face marketing ourselves, but simply supplying our offices with the necessary information (referral reports to show which offices to gift to) and general gifting ideas to give our offices a more limited scope of gift options and to prevent them from coming to us with crazy/unattainable gift ideas. Sounds great!
Every week, it seems that my manager adds a new responsibility to my plate. It started in January when she let us all know that we would be responsible for managing the marketing budgets of all of our practices, something I have no experience in and was only explained to once on a group Teams call. I recall asking her a question about whether an item fell under “promotional items” or “referral marketing”, and she replied with a long message with such snark that this is a learning moment for me to figure out myself.
In February, my manager assigned me to start creating/producing our company wide newsletter, something that takes up a lot of my time, not even including the proofreading Teams meetings my manager requires before sending to our COO for approval.
My manager also put all of us coordinators on “development plans” (not improvement plans), and mine is to spend 2 hours of deep research of SEO and to send a page long report weekly and to have a presentation slideshow to present to her and our COO by May. I asked the other coordinators what their development plans were, and they were along the lines of “Try to improve public speaking by taking this HUB Academy class!” That required no further action items.
My manager requested that I be placed in our company’s “culture club” (I’m the only black team member) and the entire club has placed responsibility on me to create and execute all future events. I am not located in my company’s home-base city, so I’m not at headquarters daily to hear the updates to what we’re doing daily, and I often feel left in the dark and behind during our meetings while everyone else is caught up to speed, even though I let them know to please CC me on all emails pertaining to our club.
The straw on the back for me was a software cleanup effort that for some reason falls on our marketing team. All offices in our company use a software that, however outdated, they won’t switch to (and it makes sense-that would be a huge task), but in finding flaws in the system, they discovered that our referral reports were missing information such as practice names for our referrals, so it is put on us weekly to spend time going back and cleaning up that software.
This, along with randomly added responsibilities such as going through office calls and having to report on them in an excel sheet, doing an entire email campaign for one specific practice because my manager can’t say no, and the general miscommunication of everyone in our company has made me grow resentful.
My manager visited my city a few weeks ago and we traveled together to different practices to chat and see where they were at with marketing. It seemed like every chance she got, she would take digs at me to make me seem like a bimbo airhead who was only good for conversation (before I did asset management, I was a cheerleader for a pro sports team).
It all feels so targeted and unrelated at the same time, but I can’t help but question if I should bring any of this up on our 1x1 this week that she emailed me about today (on Sunday no less lol)
Please let me know if I’m being dramatic and I’ll shut my case and leave lol.

EXT. CAMELOT - CASTLE DAY
(The castle of Camelot stands over grassy hills and crystal clear rolling rivers and seas. Gray clouds cover the sky and hundreds of soldiers and knights can be seen riding toward the castle. Text appears on the screen reading “CAMELOT” and then “CENTURIES AGO”.)
INT. CASTLE - THRONE ROOM - DAY
(MORGANA LE FAY (Centuries-Old), a beautiful middle aged appearing woman with sharp features and long flowing black hair, sits on the throne and holds Excalibur, the Crown of Camelot sits upon her head. Knights and soldiers march in linear motions through the hall. DEWIN (30s), a scruffily charming magician, enters in handcuffs, with guards behind him. Dewin marches up and presents himself to Morgana. Everyone in the room halts.)
MORGANA: State your name.
DEWIN: You know my name, Morgana.
MORGANA: State your name.
DEWIN: Dewinson of Merlin.
MORGANA: You are being tried with treason and conspiracy against the crown. Do you plead guilty to these crimes?
DEWIN: That depends.
MORGANA: On what?
DEWIN: Who you consider the crown to be.
(Dewin slips his handcuffs off and as he does three Blue Jays come flying out of his sleeve and begin to fly around the room.)
MORGANA: Enough foolishness. I find you guilty of the accusations placed upon you.
DEWIN: Then kill me.
MORGANA: Hm?
DEWIN: Let’s skip past the chatter and get my head on a platter. You see what I did there? Chatter platter.
MORGANA: Silence! Death is far too good for you.
DEWIN: Do your worst, no matter what Camelot will fall.
MORGANA: Is that a threat?
DEWIN: A threat would be something I plan on doing to you myself, the fall of Camelot, well that will be purely your doing.
(Morgana gets off the throne and draws a glowing circle around Dewin with Excalibur, as she does so Dewin lets out a small laugh.)
DEWIN: Binding me? My imprisonment shall not halter the winds of time.
MORGANA: I banish you.
DEWIN: What?
MORGANA: From this plane of time and place I banish you.
DEWIN: Not even you have the power to do that. Banishment spells have been hidden away for ages.
MORGANA: Hidden away in scrolls buried in this very castle. Dilflannu o’r awyren hon.
DEWIN: No.
MORGANA: Dilflannu o’r amser hwn.
DEWIN: No, no, stop.
MORGANA: Dilflannu o’r meddwl. Rwy’n eich gwahardd!
(Morgana’s eyes turn purple and electricity sparks all around Dewin and seems to be sucking the energy out of him.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - DAY
(A plain and put together autumnal forest. Text appears over the screen reading “LONDON” and then “EIGHTEEN EIGHTY FIVE”. Electricity sparks and Dewin appears in the forest dazed and confused. He is covered in scars and almost immediately passes out face forward into the ground.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - DAY
(As night begins to dawn Dewin is still incapacitated. A carriage led by a horse named, Sally, comes through the forest and halts at Dewin. ALDEN SMITH (Early 40s), a plump and posh man with a defining bushy mustache, cautiously hops out of the carriage. Alden looks around for a moment before spotting Dewin. Alden approaches Dewin and checks his pulse through his arm. Alden’s eyes linger on Dewin for a moment before looking up.)
ALDEN: Hello!? Is anybody there!?
(Alden waits for a moment before looking back down at Dewin. Alden sighs and then lifts Dewin up and into the carriage before hopping in himself. Alden pulls on the horse’s reins and it begins to march forward.)
EXT. LONDON - WICING DRIVE - NIGHT
(Alden drives his carriage down Wicing Drive and parks in front of a townhome, Twenty Six Wicing Drive. Alden gets out of the carriage, carrying Dewin, and walks up the steps. MINERVA SMITH (Early 40s), a stern yet radiant woman, opens the door in shock.)
ALDEN: It’s a long story.
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
(A stereotypical Victorian living room made primarily of oak and illuminated by two small oil lamps and a burning fireplace. Dewin is still incapacitated and lies on the table covered in bandages, Alden and Minerva hover over him. Bottles of ointment sit next to Dewin.)
MINERVA: What were you doing in the woods?
ALDEN: It’s the fastest cut home.
MINERVA: And you just-
(Minerva is interrupted by Dewin’s sighing as he wakes up.)
DEWIN: Ah! Where am I? Who are you?
MINERVA: My name is Minnie, and this is my husband, Alden.
DEWIN: What’s happening?
ALDEN: I found you all bruised in the middle of the forest. Do you know what happened to you?
DEWIN: Morgana le Fay banished me.
(Alden and Minerva glance at each other.)
MINERVA: Oh lord, I think you're a bit confused.
DEWIN: I am not confused. I am Dewin, son of Merlin. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask if you could take me to a sage or healer?
MINERVA: Of course, Alden can take you tomorrow morning, but for the night you can stay here.
DEWIN: Why, thank you.
ALDEN: Minnie, may I speak to you in the other room?
MINERVA: Of course.
(Alden and Minerva step into the kitchen.)
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - KITCHEN - NIGHT
ALDEN: We can not keep this man in our home. He is mentally insane.
MINERVA: Which means we must watch over him.
ALDEN: I am looking out for our safety.
MINERVA: And where would we take him?
ALDEN: I don’t know. He is as mad as the Doeth man!
MINERVA: Then that’s where we’ll take him.
ALDEN: Stick to nuts together?
MINERVA: The man has some common sense and he’s very compassionate.
ALDEN: Perfect.
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva Dewin sit in their carriage with Dewin outside of a small house that is slightly separated from the other homes on the street.)
DEWIN: So this is the home of a healer?
ALDEN: According to him. I will go to the door alone, I do not want to scare him.
(Alden gets out of the carriage and starts heading towards the home.)
MINERVA: So you really do believe that you are the son of Merlin.
DEWIN: I know who my father was. Why is this such a puzzle for you and your husband to wrap your heads around?
MINERVA: Why I’ve only heard stories of Camelot, myths of ancient pasts.
DEWIN: So Morgana not only shifted my place but also the time.
(Alden knocks on the home's door and is greeted by ALDRICH DOETH (Hundreds Of Years Old), an older looking man with crystals strapped around his neck.)
ALDRICH: Doctor Smith, have they finally sent someone to take me away to a nuthouse?
ALDEN: On the exact contrary, I’ve found a wounded man who claims to have been sent here by Morgana le Fay.
ALDRICH: That’s what the shift was!
ALDEN: What? You know what it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re willing to take this man.
ALDRICH: Yes, yes, bring him to me.
ALDEN: Minerva, send him up!
(Dewin comes up to the door.)
DEWIN: Hello.
ALDRICH: My goodness, the energy pulsates off of you.
DEWIN (TO ALDEN): This is the healer?
ALDEN: Yes. Now if you two don’t mind I think I will be headed back on my way.
ALDRICH: Are you sure, Doctor? It’s getting rather late, you and your wife are welcome to stay here.
ALDEN: Thank you, but there’s no need.
(Rain starts pouring out of the sky out of nowhere and thunder and lighting begin.)
ALDRICH: What about now, Doctor?
ALDEN: Minnie! We’re staying here tonight!
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - DAY
(A cluttered mess of books, candles, and potions. Aldrich, Alden, Minerva, and Dewin sit on Aldrich’s circular array of couches and chairs.)
ALDRICH: Before we dive in I suggest you go wash off, Dewin. The washroom is that small one to your left.
DEWIN: Thank you, Aldrich.
(Dewin gets up and goes into the washroom.)
ALDRICH: I know what you two think of me, the neighborhood’s resident crazy.
MINERVA: Not at all, Mister Doeth.
ALDRICH: Don’t lie, Minerva, our actions all come back to bite us.
ALDEN: So we think you're mental, what of it?
ALDRICH: There are dark forces amongst us, Mister and Misses Smith. I believe that Dewin is here to save us.
ALDEN: I appreciate you letting us stay here, but I think it’s time we leave.
ALDRICH: I will change this storm into an earthquake to keep you here if I must.
ALDEN: Come on, Minnie.
(Alden and Minerva get up and go to leave when the whole room begins to shake.)
ALDEN: What’s happening!?
ALDRICH: I warned you.
(Aldrich makes silencing symbols with his hands and the storm and the shaking stops.)
ALDRICH: Now will you listen to me?
(Alden and Minerva both sit back down.)
ALDEN: What are you?
AlDRICH: A magician, a clairvoyant, a healer, I am all of those things and more.
ALDEN: Why do you want us here so badly?
ALDRICH: I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you are the one who found Dewin, Doctor Smith. He needs a guide in this vast new world. Prophecy states that when the second coming of the Camelot war comes, the savior will have a protector.
ALDEN: And why me?
ALDRICH: There are questions that only we can answer ourselves.
(Dewin comes out of the washroom and sits back down.)
ALDRICH: Dewin, please tell me exactly how you arrived here.
DEWIN: Morgana le Fay used an ancient banishing spell on me.
ALDRICH: The fall of Camelot.
(Suddenly a wind sweeps through the room that blows out all the candles.)
MINERVA: Mister Doeth, are you doing this?
ALDRICH: No.
(A match is lit in the center of the room to reveal GWENWYN LIGHTWOOD (Centuries-Old), a green draconic humanoid woman in black robes and a hood.)
GWENWYN: Aldrich.
ALDRICH: Lady Lightwood.
GWENWYN: I’ve tracked a shift in magic to your home.
ALDRICH: It is this boy, he was banished here from Camelot.
(Gwenwyn goes up to Dewin and takes her hood off to reveal her scaly appearance. Alden gasps in disbelief. Gwenwyn runs her finger down Dewin’s cheek.)
GWENWYN (TO ALDRICH): Hm. I presume you wish to let him roam freely?
ALDRICH: With guidance, yes.
GWENWYN: If one thing goes wrong you will be punished.
ALDRICH: I know.
DEWIN (TO GWENWYN): Who are you?
GWENWYN: The last of the dragons. Just as Aldrich is the last descendent of the Family Merlin.
DEWIN (TO ALDRICH): You're a descendant of my father?
ALDRICH: Of his sister, I have many of her poems and spell tombs still intact here.
GWENWYN: Magic is rare these days, endangered, most people don’t even know it exists. So are we under agreement on the boy, Aldrich?
ALDRICH: Yes, but something is still troubling. If you and I both felt Dewin’s presence then-
GWENWYN: Benjamin did too.
DEWIN: Who is Benjamin?
ALDRICH: A descendant of Morgana who wishes to rule the earth under her ideals.
GWENWYN: A very very dangerous man who will certainly kill me if he finds me here.
(Gwenwyn’s match extinguishes and after a moment the candles all reignite but Gwenwyn is gone.)
ALDEN: By Jove!
ALDRICH: So do you all accept this challenge?
DEWIN: What challenge?
ALDRICH: Defeating Benjamin Fayle.
DEWIN: Of course!
ALDEN: Absolutely not.
ALDRICH: Are you that repulsed by compassion?
ALDEN: I can’t risk Minerva of I’s life on what could all be me hallucinating.
ALDRICH: You're risking the world for a craven excuse.
ALDEN: Goodbye.
(Alden gets up.)
ALDEN: Let’s leave, Minnie.
MINERVA: Thank you for your hospitality, Mister Doeth, and good luck.
(Alden leaves, followed by Minerva.)
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva ride through the street in their carriage.)
MINERVA: We were definitely drugged.
ALDEN: Absolutely.
EXT. LONDON - WICING DRIVE - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva hop out of their carriage.)
ALDEN: I’m going to bring Sally back to the stables.
MINERVA: Goodnight, love you.
ALDEN: I love you most.
(Minerva goes up and enters Twenty Six Wicing Drive as Alden detaches Sally from the carriage and begins to guide her down the cobbled sidewalk with one of his hands on her reins.)
EXT. LONDON - FOREST - NIGHT
(Alden guides Sally through the forest to a set of stables. Sally suddenly rears up and neighs in terror.)
ALDEN: What is it Sally?
(Sally suddenly breaks off her reins and runs towards the stables. A figure in a dark purple hood and robe sweeps past Alden and their eyes glow purple. Alden screams.)
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - BEDROOM- DAY
(Alden and Minerva lay next to each other asleep in bed. Alden wakes up screaming which awakens Minerva.)
MINERVA: What’s the matter?
ALDEN: Just a night terror.
MINERVA: We did the right thing with Dewin, he’s with someone like him now.
ALDEN: Is that really a good thing? I think I’m going to go to the pub.
MINERVA: This early in the morning?
ALDEN: I need to clear my head after yesterday.
INT. GRIFFIN’S TAIL PUB - DAY
(A traditional Victorian pub. Dewin sits at the bar and is served by BRYNN CROWING (Early 30s), a charming bartender.)
BRYNN: What can I get you, Mate?
DEWIN: Just a pint of mead, please.
(Brynn goes and pours Dewin a pint of mead that she brings back to him and he begins drinking.)
BRYNN: I like your outfit, it’s very medieval.
DEWIN: It was made by the tailor of Sir Gawain.
(Brynn gives a light chuckle.)
BRYNN: What’s your name?
DEWIN: Dewin, and yours?
BRYNN: Brynn.
(Alden enters and sees Dewin. Alden leaves, but as he does he spots another person in a dark purple robe and hood with glowing purple eyes.)
DEWIN: You're very beautiful.
BRYNN: Why, thank you.
DEWIN: Would you like to go for a stroll?
BRYNN: My shift here doesn’t end till six.
DEWIN: Then I’ll see you then.
BRYNN: I guess you will.
(Dewin finishes his mead and drops two silver coins with dragons etched into them on the bar before swiftly leaving. Brynn picks up the coins and looks at them with confusion and yearning.)
EXT. LONDON - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - DAY
(Alden knocks on the door and Aldrich opens it.)
ALDRICH: I’ve been expecting you, come in.
(Alden follows Aldrich into the home.)
INT. - ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - DAY
(Alden and Aldrich sit across from each other.)
ALDRICH: Can I offer you some tea?
ALDEN: No thank you, I want to be in the clearest state of mind possible here.
ALDRICH: So what ignited your appearance here?
ALDEN: I’ve been seeing these people.
ALDRICH: Who are “these people”?
ALDEN: They wear these dark robes and their eyes glow purple.
ALDRICH: Faley’s society.
ALDEN: What?
ALDRICH: Benjamin Faley, the evil man I mentioned last night. Is this what caused you to believe?
ALDEN: What are you saying?
ALDRICH: That you believe in magic.
ALDEN: You're mad.
ALDRICH: Exactly, so the fact that you came to me shows that there’s at least one lingering thought in your mind that magic is reality and reality is magic.
(There’s a moment of silence between Alden and Aldrich.)
ALDRICH: Where have you been seeing the people you mentioned?
ALDEN: Everywhere that Dewin has been.
ALDRICH: Oh no, oh no, no, no.
ALDEN: What is it?
ALDRICH: Dewin is going out with a woman tonight.
ALDEN: Already? He’s only been here for a day.
ALDRICH: He's charming but also so foolish. You must watch them, in case Faley strikes or even worse this woman is working for him.
ALDEN: What could I even do to stop that?
ALDRICH: You are destined to protect Dewin, and at this point your logic for denying all of this is purely irrational. You're not hesitating because you think it’s not real, you're hesitating because you know it is. He is meeting her at six outside of the “Griffin’s Tail”.
ALDEN: I’m not going.
ALDRICH: We both know that you will.
ALDEN: Farewell, Mister Doeth.
ALDRICH: May the spirit of Merlin be with you, Doctor Smith.
(Alden gets up and leaves.)
EXT. LONDON - GRIFFIN’S TAIL PUB - NIGHT
(Dewin stands outside of the pub when Brynn comes out of the side door and walks towards him.)
BRYNN: I wasn’t expecting you to show.
DEWIN: Why wouldn’t I?
BRYNN: Most men flirt and then leave, half of them are married.
DEWIN: They are not true gentlemen then.
BRYNN: I suppose not.
DEWIN: Shall we begin walking?
BRYNN: Sure.
EXT. LONDON - STREETS - NIGHT
(Dewin and Brynn stroll down the streets of London. Alden follows them from a distance.)
DEWIN: This world is so beautiful.
BRYNN: Compared to all the other worlds you’ve been to?
DEWIN: Well Camelot obviously has a better scenic view.
BRYNN: Camelot?
DEWIN: My home land.
BRYNN: You're full of jokes.
DEWIN: I’m not joking.
BRYNN: What?
(Suddenly someone grabs Brynn into an alleyway and she screams. Dewin quickly turns to see no one beside him and runs after her, followed by Alden.)
EXT. LONDON - ROOFTOP - NIGHT
(The clear skies suddenly turn gray and ominous as Dewin arrives on the roof of a building to see three people with glowing purple eyes in the dark purple robes and hoods with one standing in the center holding Brynn with a dagger to her neck. Alden arrives on the rooftop.)
ALDEN: Bloody hell!
DEWIN: Let go of her!
(The three people take off their hoods and their eyes go to normal shades. The person holding Brynn is revealed to be DABRIA (30s), a menacing looking woman.)
DABRIA: Dim mynd i mewn dim dianc.
(A purple hazy force field appears around the edges of the rooftop.)
DABRIA: So you are the one sent to stop us.
DEWIN: What do you connote?
DABRIA: We are the Citadel of le Fay.
DEWIN: Oh no.
DABRIA: Who are you?
DEWIN: My name is Dewin, I am the son of Merlin, and I demand that you let Brynn go.
DABRIA: Why? Is she your protector?
BRYNN: Dewin, what are they talking about!?
(Dewin starts to move his hands around and a wispy blue energy begins to come out of them.)
DABRIA: Get him!
(The two other people with Dabria rush towards Dewin to attack him, but he uses the energy he created to push them around and drop them both to the ground. Dabria drops Brynn and her dagger and Alden rushes to pick up the dagger and succeeds.)
DABRIA: You are foolish, Dewin.
(Dabria pulls a gun out of her robes and shoots it at Dewin but he turns the bullet into a flower. Dabria shoots more but each time Dewin does the same thing until Dabria is out of bullets. Alden sneaks up behind Dabria and stabs her in the back. Dabria shrieks in pain and then disappears in a cloud of black smoke. Brynn gets up off of the ground.)
BRYNN: What the hell just happened?
DEWIN: Are you okay?
BRYNN: Not mentally. What in the world is going on here? How did you turn bullets into flowers!?
DEWIN: I told you I’m from Camelot.
(Alden drops the dagger.)
ALDEN: Did I just kill that woman?
DEWIN: Most likely not, you didn’t stab deep enough to hit any organs.
BRYNN: What do we do now?
DEWIN: Go home and call it a night.
BRYNN: I can’t forget about this.
DEWIN: I’m not asking you to.
ALDEN: If any of us speak of this people think we’re insane.
DEWIN: Then don’t speak of it.
BRYNN: Will I see you again, Dewin?
DEWIN: Did you enjoy tonight?
BRYNN: I was almost killed.
DEWIN: That doesn’t answer my question.
BRYNN: Meet at the pub on Friday after my shift.
INT. TWENTY SIX WICING DRIVE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
(Alden and Minerva lay next to each other.)
MINERVA: Do you think the Citadel will return?
ALDEN: Unequivocally.
MINERVA: What have we gotten into?
INT. BENJAMIN’S LAIR - NIGHT
(A cavern full of crystals and magical runes. BENJAMIN FALEY (30s or 40s), an attractive but uptight looking man, sits on his throne. Dabria enters and walks to face the throne, she bows and then gets back up.)
BENJAMIN: Did you find him?
DABRIA: Yes, Master Faley.
BENJAMIN: And did you find his protector?
DABRIA: Yes, but it’s not the girl.
BENJAMIN: Then who?
DABRIA: A Doctor Alden Smith.
BENJAMIN: Did you kill the doctor?
DABRIA: He deeply wounded me.
BENJAMIN: Then the battle goes on.
DABRIA: For Morgana.
BENJAMIN: For Morgana.
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - NIGHT
(Aldrich and Dewin sit across from each other drinking tea.)
ALDRICH: There are many things in this world, Dewin…
INT. GWENWYN’S CAVE - NIGHT
(Gwenwyn stands in the middle of a circle of candles. She stretches out her hands and forms magic blue charts and graphs with a picture of Dewin.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): Forces we can’t explain…
EXT. LONDON - ALLEYWAY- NIGHT
(Brynn wears only her undergarments and takes a few coins from a man.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): Secrets we hide…
INT. BENJAMIN’S LAIR - NIGHT
(Benjamin sits on his throne.)
ALDRICH (VOICE OVER): And villains we must defeat.
INT. ALDRICH’S HOUSE - LIVING SPACE - NIGHT
ALDRICH: You are the key to this all, Dewin, you are the son of Merlin.