Restaurants with party rooms near me

Y’all I had to get this out somehwere.
I’m having a really rough time. I quit a bunch of substances and am getting off a medication so my brain is mush and withdrawal is monstrous.
I have an adult ballet intensive tomorrow that I’m really excited for but i haven’t been able to prepare like I’d hoped bc eating enough is challenging right now.
I finally dragged myself to the gym to get in some kind of physical activity today. Just a lil walk so I could stretch before tomorrow.
These 2 children, maybe 10ish and 14, start pounding on the door bc they don’t have a key card. I let them in bc I was trying to be nice. I thought they might have left something in there or, god forbid, want to exercise.
They proceed to treat the gym like a FUCKING playground. Yelling, jumping, hanging off the machinery, using it really unsafely, running on the treadmill in slides and CROCS. I realize quickly that if one of these idiots smashes their face in on the treadmill, it’s on me, the only other person in the room and the only adult, to make sure they’re ok.
So I advise them not to do it because it is unsafe.
They completely ignore me.
For 40 minutes I just try to ignore this shit but they are being so loud I can hear them through my earbuds.
Mom (?) eventually shows up and seems to have absolutely no problem with this belligerent behavior. She laughs and starts her own workout.
I left early bc they were giving me a fucking headache and anxiety.
I was so mad I screamed into a pillow. For like 30 seconds. Now my throat is bleeding.
And I had to spend the rest of the night sleeping bc they drained what little energy I could scrape together.
Children are burdensome, obnoxious, shameful goblins and I fucking HATE them in the depths of my soul. I’m never helping a child out again, bc this is what i get for trying to be nice.
Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. 🙃

I am a foster child. Before I was fostered, I was an only child. Now I have three siblings.
Growing up an only child made me fiercely independent. I've had a hard life since I was young and I learnt how to cope with difficulties. I can't say I'm perfect but I've been strong.
Now having a sister who had grown up in a completely different environment from me, I was surprised by how she deals with her problems. She's 18 years old. Somehow every little inconvenience will ruin her day, she wants for a lot and mopes when she doesn't get them, she's easily envious, she's nonfunctional for days and leaves our room in a complete mess. Of course she's not all bad, she's become my best friend and we understand each other, we treat each other on dates sometimes, all the sisterly stuff. But often I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around her, afraid something might trigger her moods again, then she won't eat or sleep, and rehashes old problems. It's come to the point that it affects me as well. I try to comfort and help her as best as I can but I worry about what will happen to her without me, or if I get tired of it in the long term.
Can someone please help me? How do you tell if it's "kaartehan" or if someone's genuinely depressed? I am someone who believes there is some merit to resiliency (ofc not to the point of being abused), and I think her problems are something that can be brushed off. I may be wrong and it might mean the world to her. For more context, I think she's at an exploration phase, she wants to go to clubs (our parents won't let her, or they make sure she has a chaperone), and all those teenager things where she needs skincare and she worries that she's "glowed-down", etc. I think there are some academic worries as well but the parents don't pressure her. These are problems I don't fully understand because I've never had the opportunity to have them. It'd be very welcome if someone could share their own experience and enlighten me.
It affects me whenever she complains about things like how we don't have this or that, and I want to say life is like that but I don't because it might hurt her (we're not poor but we're not rich either). Or when she's being nonfunctional and asks me to do her assignments, which leaves me sleepless because I can't refuse her but I also have my own tasks to do, etc.
I've long wanted to tell her to be a bit more strong, but I don't know how. That approach may be a wrong move. I don't want to sound like I'm parroting things off YouTube like stoicism and being antifragile and whatnot.
Does she need a counselor? This family doesn't really believe in psychology, looks down on talks of depression so I don't know if this is an option. Or do I just weather it and let her grow up? Do I leave this to the parents? I suppose it's part of being an older sister now. How do I give her advice without hurting or invalidating her?

So I’m trying to buy tickets and parking passes to a sports game for my family. We’re a big group and the tickets seemed to be selling pretty quickly. I’m in the same room as my parents while I’m doing all this and everything is going well until I get stuck at the parking passes. I’m unable to buy more than the limit so I get stuck. Unfortunately I lose the actual seats and I tell my parents. And my mom directly says to me a Tagalog phrase which basically was “ahhh see, you were too slow, you took too long and look what happened, this is your fault for not working fast enough”
So in a toxic filipino household, sometimes it’s all about the tone when things are said. The way she said it was (mind my language) but a straight up btchy tone. And I’m a pretty sensitive person so…well yeah I start crying. So of course she responds by saying “oh I’m sorry” but OF COURSE it’s AGAIN in a tone that is not genuine. It comes off as “I’m sorry. Now stop crying bc this is ridiculous” The tone is important because it was said in a way to just get me stop and my feelings in that moment didn’t feel validated. Like wth am I supposed to do with that?
Am I just supposed to just accept the rude attitude from my mom just bc she’s my mom? Idk if I overreacted about the situation. I’m better now, but in the moment it really upset me and I told her then that it upset me but I rushed out of the room right after. Before I said something disrespectful bc I was so upset

Hello, I currently have Samsung 7 series 43” smart 4k tv and definitely need something a lot bigger. Looking to upgrade to a 65-75 inch 4k tv. The only problem I have is which tv is best for my max price of around $800, will also be needing a decent stand as well. I’m a huge Xbox gamer so that’s a majority of what it will be used for, room is dark with very little natural lighting. Stand isn’t included in max 800 budget but the cheaper the stand the better. Looking around $100-$300 budget for decent stand that can only be about 15” high. Thanks for any help you can give me.

I've been struggling a lot with finding a career path since my teen years. I'm 27M now and feel like I still don't know myself well enough to know what I want to do. I've worked numerous jobs over the past 10 years, mostly warehouse work and I've never stayed more than a couple years because I can't handle poor management, wages and work culture.
My current job isn't all that bad. It's a straight days warehouse job, but it has very poor management, my boss is really toxic and some of my coworkers lack work ethic which puts stress on the small crew we have to get our orders out. There is zero accountability and because of that it's really hard for me to care. I am a hard worker and will try my best to do the task at hand. I went out of my way to learn new skills and help out my other workers, I even worked through my breaks when I first started 2 years ago to keep orders moving, but now I just don't care. I've already used 8 of my 10 paid leave days this year just because I don't want to deal with it.
I suppose I have a lack of motivation to get out of this dead end job rut. I attribute this to the severe depression and anxiety that runs in my family. My father had it so bad he couldn't even maintain a job. I'm nowhere near that bad, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't let it get in the way of pursuing other opportunities.
Over the last several years I've been indulging in video editing and sound design. It's something I really enjoy even if it is a lot of work. I don't know how realistic it is to be able to use those skills in a career, especially because I live in a small town and moving is out of the question for now as I have a fiancé bound here for work. I guess youtube could always be a career, but honestly that's incredibly far fetched and not at all stable. Right now I just kind of feel lost, stuck and hopeless. Not sure I'll ever amount to anything even though I feel I'm worth far more than any dead end job.
I guess I just want to hear from people in similar situations. How did you know what you wanted to do? Maybe a dead end job isn't all that bad if it pays the bills. I appreciate any responses.

I got a female lurcher who tends to do consistent things near me during times of the day. I sit on my chair often doing work or playing video games. And instead of laying on my bed or laying at all she sits close by on the carpet looking at the open door. She only does this however at certain points of the day. She sits there when I’m eating. When I’m sleeping. And only if I’m there. she’ll keep her arm or paw or whatever on my legs tightly as if she’s hugging me when I’m in bed. She also tends to follow me like any other dog however always is standing with her body blocking me. Instead of standing with her butt towards me, she’ll stand sideways leaving no room for other family members to get past 🤣
Could this be an over-defensive pet or is she just being like any other dog?

Problem definition:
I have an ammonia refrigerator in my RV that uses a 120V electric heating strip as a “compressor”, and I want to be alerted when it’s been running for a long time without cycling off.
During normal operation, the heat strip may be on for an hour at a time, or maybe even six hours if I’ve just put a warm case of soda in it.
But over time (months) the ammonia-water solution will slowly separate and the heat strip will stay on longer and longer, and finally stay on constantly to attempt to satisfy the thermostat.
Eventually once I notice the ice cream is melting I know it’s time to take action, which is essentially “stirring” the solution. This could be accomplished by moving the RV, or emptying and physically flipping the fridge upside down for a minute.
Once stirred, the fridge will function well for another 3, 6, or 9 months without trouble.
It bothers me that (I’m guessing) for a month or more before the ice cream melts, the thing is just running constantly or near constantly, just barely keeping up, and I’d love to know when it starts working overtime so I can intervene sooner.
What I would like:
Some kind of circuit that will sense when 120 V is being applied to the heater (it can be powered this way too), and will light up an LED when it’s been on for “a long time”.
I know “a long time” is frustratingly ambiguous, but I’m being intentionally imprecise. If I say 24 hours exactly, I know that will require some kind of IC chip with a clock, and I don’t think that level of sophistication is required here (nor do I want to force those kinds of answers). If there is some kind of resistocapacitor combination that will take somewhere between 8 hours and 8 days to “charge up” and turn on a light, that’s good enough for me. It doesn’t even need to be consistent.
For context, the best solution I’ve come up with that I think I could implement right now on my own is to just connect an LED that always lights up when the heater is on, and it’s on me to notice whether and how often it turns off.
Another possibly “off the shelf” solution might be to power a small digital clock/timer with the heat strip circuit and I can randomly look at it. If I see it’s counted up to 12 hours, I know it’s time for a stir. But honestly figuring out how to “hack” a clock in that way seems intimidating.
So, if there’s some kind of “slow to react” circuit I could rig up, maybe even with a variable resistor for “tuning”, I’d love to know! I don’t even expect a complete design - if you know what such a circuit would even be called I’m happy to do my own research and try cobbling something together myself.
Of course, I’m also 100% open to other solutions/ideas you may have :)
Thanks in advance for sharing your wisdom!

Yesterday morning we made a chocolate cake for a birthday celebration. Most of it was eaten last night, along with copious amounts of red wine. It was great, and I didn't notice anything particularly interesting about it. But, having the last piece today, the cake tastes distinctly of mint.
Can any flavor chemists tell me why that would be? The cake is a pretty normal chocolate cake: flour, white sugar, oil, eggs, regular (not dutch-process) cocoa, brewed coffee, and buttermilk. The frosting was made with butter, powdered sugar, and milk chocolate, a Lindt bar purchased the day before, which did not taste minty when we ate some. No mint was included, nor was it stored near mint.
I am not sure whether it tasted like mint on Day 1, or if the flavor grew in.
There's one conversation on Quora that shows up in the results when you search for this (https://www.quora.com/Why-does-old-chocolate-have-a-minty-taste), but it's not totally applicable here. I'm also interested in more chemistry information about what's going on here, if anybody knows.

Hey, incoming freshman here. According to the UT Housing dept, most rooms in Moore Hill have beds that are bunkable but not loftable aka Jr. Loft beds. Me and my roommate really wanted to room at Moore Hill this year, but also wanted to go for a room with a loftable bed. Does anyone who's dormed in a room that has one at Moore Hill or know a room that has one? Please PM any room numbers so we can get the room before others during the upcoming room selection 😅😅

Hi. Just today I (24F) talked with my two best friends on the phone today about rooming together in a city they already live in (Chicago). We had this call planned for about a week now and I have been looking forward to it for a long time; I was very excited to finally start looking at neighborhoods and talking rent.
For context, these two friends moved in together about 6 months ago and I have visited them multiple times already. We've been best friends for years and have always talked about getting a three bedroom together finally. Other circumstances (grad school) prevented me from being to move in with them initially 6 months ago; I would have if I could have. We have talked and talked and talked about finally being able to all live together and I have always expressed so much excitement about being able to move to their city and finally have my social life back.
My current living situation is less than ideal and I live with a roommate who I strongly dislike and feel miserable around; she is not a kind girl. Living basically alone for the past two years in this apartment with her has been extremely alienating and lonely; I have never felt more isolated and left out in my entire life. I know it's not their fault, but seeing my friends enjoying their lives together and texting about things that I wouldn't know about has taken a serious toll on my mental health.
Now that my move out date, August, is quickly approaching, I have been getting super excited to get out of here and find a three bedroom with them. However, the call tonight changed everything. As angry as I want to be with them, their circumstances are unfortunately not ideal. They have realized in the past month that they will not be able to afford to move to a new apartment and pay upfront costs like security deposits, first/last, fees, etc. Today they told me that the chances of me being able to live with them is slim, since their best financial option is to resign their current lease.
I have truly never been more heartbroken and upset in my entire life. I spent the rest of the phonecall sobbing; not to make them feel bad, but because I was so upset and shocked by this information that it physically hurt and made me feel sick. I don't even know what to do or say. I've been ignoring their texts since I hung up. I cannot afford to live in a single/studio on my own. Living in a three bedroom and splitting rent is so much cheaper than a studio in the city, unfortunately. I feel so betrayed and left in the dark. The thought of having to find another random roommate after this hellish 2 years is terrifying. I was so so excited to finally have my friends back and to live with them and not feel trapped and lonely in these four walls and yet here I am, being forced to live alone or with another stranger.

I have been dating this girl for almost exactly 3 years now. She means the world to me and we have honestly had a great relationship up till this point. I've always been the chill bf that has always trusted her and she has always trusted me. We have had our fair share of fights, but we have always been able to work through them together. In reality, I was best friends with her for like 2 years before we started dating and also were FWB for a little bit. During that stage we used to talk about everything and how we only wanted each other so I was under the impression that we were exclusive. She talked about this guy hitting on her and I didn't think much of it cuz I didn't think I needed to. Fast forward towards near the beginning of the relationship, she says she hooked up with that guy during our talking stage (gave head only). I was pretty immature at that time cuz I never had dated anyone and I thought we were exclusive during that stage (in her defense we never talked about exclusivity) and I got pretty upset. She then lied and said she was just testing to see what I did and after some time I believed her. I sometimes brought up the subject but she kept brushing it off. For the rest of our relationship, I fully trust her and she is honestly really sweet and takes a ton of care of me, more so than I ever expected anyone to do for me. But one day, when I brought it up I could tell something was off and eventually she told me. The only thing is she changed her story from what she said initially to "he was touching her" (yes in that way) but she felt too guilty to continue and left before anything else happened. In her head, saying that she just gave head was better to tell me since she thought i'd be less upset at that (I'd much rather have had her lie about that than lie about a lie), but regardless she lied multiple times. I really want to believe what she told me because I gave her multiple opportunities telling her I won't throw away a 3 year relation for something that happened before we dated. I honestly could care less about what she did, its just the fact she lied to me. If her stories from the beginning of the relationship and now matched up, I'd have a much easier time forgiving her and letting it go, but its just the fact that the stories differ that trips me up. I still love her and the person I am now wouldn't judge her for her past. The past me would have but I've grown up from then and if she didn't lie initially, I wouldn't have had the best 3 years of my life. Its just tearing me apart though thinking that she is still lying about what she did even though I told her that she can tell me everything she did and I will forgive it, but it would still take a while for my trust to be regained. If I find out now that she did lie to me again, I think I'd have no other option than to break up and that is really what is making my heart sink everytime I think that she was lying. She also hates talking about the subject because she feels like a terrible person for doing that to me, and I do believe that, but she is willing to talk about it and reassure me. I just get a feeling that she hates talking about it because she still might be hiding something, but she swore she wasn't. How do you guys think I should approach this, I really want to believe her and move on since I love her so much but idk how to.
TL;DR: My gf said she gave head during our talking stage to someone else but then lied cuz I got upset. I then found out 3 years later after she was being weird about but her story changed and he only touched her. Idc what her past is, I'm upset that she lied and breached my trust, but the thing holding me back from moving on is that she made a lie up, then lied about that lie by saying they didnt do anything, and then told me a different story and swears on everything and everyone that she is telling me the truth. How do I fully believe her?

I took some Amanita Muscaria gummies, as well as some Psilocybin mushrooms. When I started to come up it was very different than a typical trip, I could see multicolored alien architecture that looked like it was made out of light. I could feel them watching me too, it was very apparent. At one point when I was walking down the road, a drunk kid swerved to hit me in a pickup truck, so I called 911 and reported him, but it was like the operator kept asking me questions about my location, and the last thing I heard was something like "we've got your signal, we're coming to pick you up. It was super exciting. Anyways, the thing that happened was at some point in the trip I felt a sudden and very powerful shift in reality, and it was like instantly I had tuned in to some sort of telepathic connection with a group of beings that felt more like my family than anyone I've known on this Earth, including my biological family. It was like we were all inside each other's minds and bodies at the same time, and there was so much love radiating for me, like I'd been lost or something like that. If I meditated it was like this world started to melt away and my eyes started to open on the other side, in some kind of alien ship or high tech room. I didn't fully get through but I could almost catch glimpses. It was so strange. It felt like reality was permanently shifting and changing to where everyone was telepathically linking. I was disappointed the next day haha. Anyways, just curious if anyone has had any similar experiences :)

Hi, I’m not sure how helpful this might be but I wanted to mention my experience as a beginner with this deck!
Three months ago at nearly 40 years old I finally myself purchasing my first tarot deck, the New Editition RWS. After a whole life of admiring from a distance the art in tarot. Growing up in a conservative Christian cult there there has always been this place in my heart that told me to look away from tarot.
Long story short I totally did it! I bought my deck and fell in love with reading it and getting to know it. But I found myself with an itch to find the deck which spoke to me, so I set out, which is where I found the Wild Unknown!
I’ve read here and there how some Redditors seem to have a rough time with the dark nature of this deck, how brutal it can be. While I have no question about how others have experienced, I believe their experience is theirs and true, I have had nothing but bright and insightful and overwhelmingly positive reads from this deck!
It has actually felt at times like I have an excellent therapist to sit down with whenever I need them. While I still use my RWS when I just am really needing it, I’m almost 90% using my Wild Unknown and loving it.
I think this might be my first post, I’m so happy to be a part of this group and have learned so much from you all! Just thought I’d share my experience this far(= Support unions and please keep sharing your insight and experiences with tarot, I’m still learning everyday (=

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.

If this cross-post isn't allowed here please let me know, but I really need help. I have a 1 year 2 month old cat named Sam. I have him since he was 3 months old. He bites me unprovoked constantly. I am at my wits end with this, I don't know why he keeps biting me and I don't know how to fix it. He actually just bit me a few minutes ago, I cleaned up my bleeding hand, sobbed about it to my husband, and then I found this sub.
Some background I guess: He was always a biter, but I thought it was because he was a kitten and because I wasn't respecting his boundaries (I wanted to snuggle with him. He did not). I learned his cues of when he's uncomfortable and about to bite and backed off. Which is all the time, he doesn't like being touched at all. But for months now he will bite me unprovoked. Like I'll be sleeping and he'll attack me, or sitting at my desk and he'll bite. I'll be playing with him and he'll go past the toy and bite my arm. Like I cannot stress enough, I'm not screwing with the cat or depriving him of anything, he just bites me for no reason.
In no particular order I have tried positive reinforcement with treats, distracting with a toy, clicker training, putting him in a different room when he bites, getting hundreds of dollars worth of new toys and "environment enhancements", scheduling when to play with him throughout the day, ignoring him, giving him extra attention, giving him time outs, the Feliway optimum calming pheromones, CBD treats, food for hyper cats, feeding him at night, feeding him in the morning, leaving food out constantly, the vet recommended more play and more toys so I did that, he also has Sam on 5mg of Prozac daily, I even used the freaking spray bottle just praying Sam would leave me alone.
There are no (certified) cat behaviorist in my area. I'd get a virtual one but have no idea if it'll be worth the cost. Google just tells me I need to play with him more. I've read countless articles provided by my vet on how to stop aggressive behavior, I feel like I tried everything and nothing. is. working.
I know Sam will never be an affectionate cat, if he wants to never interact with me again I'll be happy with that. I am honestly scared to be in the same room as him because of this. He's locked in the bathroom right now (with food, water, litter, don't worry) because I was sleeping and he just jumped on the bed and attacked me.
Please give me something I haven't tried. Once my vet is open tommrrow I'll give them a call, but I can't help feeling like a failure for wanting to drug him into a zombie to make him leave me alone. Please someone tell me I'm doing something wrong and this can be fixed.

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 cat won't let me trim his nails, brush his long hair to stop matting or get it out, clean his butt when it sticks to his long fur. Barely lets me touch him with my hands at all.
He was surrendered by his original owner because "he wouldn't let us pet him".
That said, he is comfortable with me. He follows me from room to room. Will meow for me to join him when he really wants to be in a different room but also wants me around. He sleeps on or between my legs every night. He comes running to the door every time I come home. We exchange slow blinks.
How do I properly take care of a cat that bites and scratches every time I try to take care of him. But otherwise seems to be very comfortable with me?
I've tried excessive treats (he's very food motivated). I've tried cat burrito, but he squirms so much I'm worried he'll hurt himself. And he usually really starts squirming if I try to switch which nails are out.
I'm really at a loss for what to do. It breaks my heart that I can't take proper care of him. But I have no idea how to help him.
He's 2 and I've had him for 6 months if that helps.

Hi all -- 2023 Diamond Medallion here, sitting on some GUCs I need to figure out how to use (or let them expire next January). I live in Australia, so the only int'l destination on Delta metal available to me is the SYD > LAX route. I fairly frequently fly back to the USA to see family, and already have a SYD>LAX trip booked with 2 GUCs applied (1 outbound, 1 return).
I'm trying to avoid letting the other two GUCs go to waste, but don't really know of any options for burning them, aside from booking another SYD > LAX flight this year, which I'm having trouble justifying since the time / $ requirements are very high.
Research suggests Air France should let me burn GUCs, but every flight I'm looking at with Air France's website -- even ones to France -- routes me through USA, via Delta metal, and cost like $10,000 each way. I'm not even logged in to Delta or to Air France, just doing random front-of-the-website searches for flights originating in Australia, and still getting crazy results.
Does anyone have any ideas / sugggestions for ways I might be able to burn my remaining GUCs for flights originating in (or near) Australia, aside from flying DL 40 SYD > LAX?

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.”

My ex girlfriend (29F) had a big problem with me and my hobbies and passions. Im a 29 year old male working in film which I take very seriously. I also dance 4x a week in Salsa and on weekends practice Muay thai on both Saturday and Sunday mornings. These two hobbies give me so much pleasure and make me incredibly happy.
Often times I'll only have 1-2 nights a week free. With my ex girlfriend I wanted to be completely honest with her in the beginning and I told her that I take my work, passions, and hobbies very seriously and you may only see me 1-2 times a week. She said that it was very attractive but that "now you're getting a girlfriend". I felt like she didn't understand me...Fast forward 8 months later and she claimed I wasn't making her a priority. Both of these activities she also did previously and we talked about her joining classes (her idea) with me and be a dance/MMA couple but she never followed through with it.
Im a very easy going guy in relationships and have been told from past girlfriends Im super chill, no bullshit, good communicator, take the initiative and I make people feel comfortable and safe quickly.
Now here is where I am slightly torn. People, not just women, find others with passions, drive and goals to be very attractive and in life you have to do the things that make you happy. I also believe that when you date someone you need to continue doing the things that you did before dating. But where I struggle is maybe Im not willing to compromise my hobbies?
With my ex there were other reasons why we broke up (I initiated nearly everything - dates, sex, conversations, and I felt I always had to make her more happy) but the biggest thing was I never felt heard and understood with my needs - and my only main need is AUTONOMY. I also do know that I have Dismissive Avoidant attachment with secure sprinkled in there.Right now Im single and enjoying my life as much as possible but I was wondering if others have gone through something similar?
Maybe I just need a girl who also has a bunch of hobbies and is more secure if they dont see me often. Years ago I dated a girl who saw me twice a week and it was awesome. She never had a problem with it.
And no this post isnt bashing anyone who wants to see their partner more. If thats what you want thats great and no one is wrong with that they want in a relationship. And clearly I wasnt giving my ex what she wanted. I also dont blame anyone - I know the things I did wrong in my last relationship and Ive acknowledged them and took responsibility for it as well. Maybe Im just not ready for a relationship
TLDR: I put my hobbies and Passions first. Confused if this is sustainable. Would like to hear other people thoughts and their experiences.