Distance to brunswick georgia

I graduated college a few years ago, and since entering into a new field I've really started to establish myself in the city I went to high school in. I have been active with young adults, served as a sponsor in RCIA, volunteered with parishioners, started to build a few friendships, all in the course of a little over a year. I recently have started talking to a girl via a dating app who lives three hours away, is not Catholic but is open, and I have planned to go on a date with her and drive down to see her.
My dating life has been active in general, but lots of one offs or two dates, no real relationships. In the past I have gone on a few dates with a girl who was 5+ hours away as well, it didn't work out due to the distance and some other factors.
My question is, I also have bought a home in my area, and I have lots of extended family nearby, along with immediate. Is it worth it to connect with this girl?
Part of me is open to moving, but I really have invested so much in where I'm at, and I also think it would be nice to be close to my parents. Should I just disclose I don't plan on moving, see what she says and go from there?
Thanks for any feedback, I've talked with some friends but wanted some more thoughts.

Just figured y’all could appreciate this. I found Sufjan after weeks of having a snippet of Chicago stuck in my head after watching Little Miss Sunshine. I somehow found Sufjan and was transported. My parents were divorcing and suddenly I was asked to go on a road trip to rural Georgia for a lake house visit. I convinced my mom to let me buy Illinoise on iTunes because “it’s a good deal to get 20 songs for $10”. I listened to it the whole way there, along beautiful backroads, and now it’s the only thing I think of on long drives, and I’m 13 again. What ways has Sufjan stamped himself on your development?

I would like to start by saying that I am a CSA survivor. I have not told anyone but my best friend. After months of therapy as an adult, the traumatic memories came back and I remember it all.
My fiancé and I are getting married in a month. I love him dearly and could not have asked for a better partner. I have not shared this with him though. I want to but don’t know how and I see that it is affecting our relationship a bit. I am often turned off when he initiates sexual activity and I feel like it is because it triggers me. In the beginning of our relationship, we were long distance and saw each other only every 2-3 months. Now we live together. Our sex life has quite obviously changed. Idk.. I don’t want him to think it’s because I don’t love him.

I’ve been working with CS for 2 weeks now and I’m almost ready to give up on Eufy products. They even sent me a replacement unit that is having the same issues.
I have an S330 Dual Camera Wired Doorbell that refuses to connect to either the 2023 model Xfinity XFi Gateway or my Macard WiFi extender. I’ve run through the checklist multiple times:

• Yes it’s on a 2.4 GHz channel split from the 5 GHz channel
• Yes, it’s not a guest wifi channel
• Yes, it’s a WPA2-Personal password
• Yes, I’ve double checked the password
• Yes, I can connect to my phone hotspot and have updated the Firmware
• Yes, I’ve tried moving every distance between next to the routeextender to 10+ ft away
• Yes, I’ve restarted the router several times during setup
• Yes, I’ve reset the doorbells multiple times by holding the button in the hole down for 10+ seconds

I’m hoping someone here has had a similar issue with the new version of the XFi Gateway and been able to resolve it, otherwise I’m going to give up on Eufy products and move to a different brand

My in-laws live within driving distance, it takes about 6 hours to get there when driving because we need to stop to feed an infant. We have two children, 2 and 6mo and my in-laws would like us to come for a weekend visit when some other family members are also in town. This means that we are unable to stay at my in-laws house as it’s fully occupied. I can’t figure out how to make it work, our kids thrive on a consistent bedtime so if we stay in a hotel we would be not available for family time from 6:30pm-8am. Also, we have other friends in the area but no one who has space to reasonably host us. My husband and I decided not to go because of how complicated it is with very little actual time with family. Now this is causing family drama as they think we aren’t making an effort.

I'm 23. I can safely say porn has ruined my life beyond all measures. I lost a 6 year long relationship. I moved back in with my parents and now they know how fucked in the head I've been. I lost friends over the things I'd vent about. People in most cases made distance from me and I feel extremely alone. I am involved in 12 step programs and they are okay but I need more. I need constant encouragement because I feel shameful for asking even my sponsor for help. The people who know the darkest parts of me still cause me to withdraw and not admit my mistakes.
I use reddit a lot from a very negative and very triggering perspective but I'm intrigued in joining these subs to at least try to make peace or search for emergency encouragement. I want more out of my life, I wanted to be a musician but I sold all my equipment to carry the financial load for my ex since she would quit her job after I would relapse.. I miss having passions and joy and honestly it has brought the worst out in me. Instead of giving a positive contribution through my skills, assets, passions, and creations, I sit in my room acting out and binging. My life was ruined the moment I saw my first few videos. I am socially awkward and paranoid, I'm always afraid I'm just being a creep and sadly most of the time I am. Longest break I ever had was a bit over 2 months and things got better and then got worse. I just want to be a better human being.

So i've been friends with this girl for a while, we used to work together at a restaurant. After the restaurant closed we split ways and didn't talk for a long time just as passing coworkers would do. We were just like acquintances /work friends basically. Well, a few years pass and we've been working at a different restaurant now, by random chance, and we've gotten closer sort of.
Well, she took more of an interest in me than I did in her..... I didnt' mind being friends with her and I would run into her randomly outside of work sometimes and we'd hang out for a bit just cuz I was bored and she was there and why not...... ( that happened like once/twice basically, random as fuck) then after that happened she started texting me more in kind of like a group chat setting and then she would invite me to go eat and stuff and we would go out to eat every now and then, also go to like work parties sometimes with another friend tagging along and I would have fun sometimes and I would be pretty friendly and open...
Well, I'm 29 and shes like 36 i think and I think she's a fine person she's not horrible but I think i really fucked up in that I shouldn't have be so friendly on the front end, because she likes me way more than I like her and I've kind of tried to distance myself sort of... like I'll never really text her, she's the one that always initiates...... I know that's probably really fucked up that I let the relationship go so onesided in a way, but I dont know... I do want to be on good terms with her but not hang out with her that much if that makes any sense...... Also She mentioned to me she's a virgin and that kind of threw my off like why the fuck did she mention that shit completely out of the blue, sure i was with her and another friend all together but to me that is like signaling some sort of sexual interest or someting or at least comfortable mentioning a pretty fucking private sexual thing with a guy friend right?, I think I was way too fuckin friendly..... So, I've been backing off, but I feel bad that there hasn't been any clear communication between us now...
I'm just afraid when I see her next what is going to happen, I feel stuck betweeen being apologetic and then being really kinda of cruel and blunt and just nip it in the bud... YOu have to be cruel to be kind kind of thing, i really fucking wish i hadn't been so friendly on the front end fuckkkkkkkkkk
Any advice on this would be great. Im probably a shitty person, I gave it a shot to try and be friends but now I don't give af at all I just want her to be out of my head and i can live stress free,, I honestly don't really care about being friends with her that much.... and so the cold shoulder feels sadly like what I need to do because I don't want to text her out of fear that Im' breadcrumbing her or some shit like that , like she just needs to just get it, maintain distance and then get over it... and hopefully we can still just be coworkers and we never text anymore....and yes i am actively trying to change my communication skillss...... fuckkkk
TL;DR old coworker and i have been working together again, she initiated hang outs way more than me, like an idiot i accepted them but wasn't really showing that great of interest in order to keep things friend like, now i don't really want to even be friends and I haven't talked to her texted her in awhile.. fuckkkkk

So full story; the OP title is a little misleading I think.
I'm in the military and got to a new duty station. I am entirely shoreside and living my best life, but I will probably be leaving within the year. I know this. I explain this to everyone that asks me about it if I match on apps, so there's no surprises. Where will I go? Lots of training and a new duty station, so I'll be unlikely to be back in the area.
I met a guy who is a couple years younger than me. He is new to relationships and is very kind. I like him a lot. I really do. He's sweet and just my type. We've hung out several times, gone on dates -- the zoo, an art gallery, all kinds of cool stuff. A concert next week. It's been really nice.
But... we've been doing this, all in all, over the course of a month. I met him in like, March, he went radio silent for a few months and then came back (he had a lot going on) and has been very attached ever since. He knows I'm leaving and I told him I'm not very good at long distance (I'm really not ready for that). I told him I wanted to have a good time together while I'm here, but when I'm gone, we gotta part ways. He agreed to this idea.
However, in time he's grown more attached. Lots of text. Told me he loves me. It's been about a month or a little more, but it's clear he has a very big interest in me that under normal circumstances I'd be fine to reciprocate, but with a huge career shift and my focus being on that, I just don't know if I can really commit to all of that.
I don't want this to seem like I'm not into him; I really am. My last boyfriend and I were like this: we had a few really great months, but we were mature and broke it off when I left since I shifted coasts. This is... a little different. I like this boy in the same way, but I'm afraid for the time when I do have to leave in a few months, I'm going to break his heart.
I just don't want this to end poorly. My ideal endstate is that we had a great time and appreciate that, but that we can move on with our lives and start new chapters while still remaining friends and in contact.
​
EDIT: I used "boyfriend" in the OP, but I should probably add that we never really formalized that. It's just that we basically act like that, ie I shut down my apps and he calls me babe and stuff. I'm not sure if that changes things.

Currently doing a Smallville rewatch and I’m on S5. I feel like the writers forgot how long the distance is from Smallville to Metropolis as the seasons went on. Lana will be with Clark one minute then in Metropolis at her dorm the next lol.

Before I even jump in, a couple clarifications: • I know that there are myriad choices any parent can make, and that it’s not clear-eyed to necessarily label decisions “good” or “bad”, but I imagine anyone familiar with child development would respond with concern to what I’m recounting. • This is my response to what I was able to see and hear in a small sliver of time, and I understand that I may not have heard every word or known the whole story. • I know this is minor compared to what others have witnessed, or witness on a regular basis, but it’s simply a recent example that is fresh on my mind.
I took my kid to the playground. Another dad showed up with a kid who looked to be 4 or so, which is isn’t that far from my own. Here are a few things that I overheard, as we were the only people in the park:
• They’re on bikes, and literally as soon as they enter the park, the dad is speeding up and distancing himself at least 10-15 paces from this kid. The kid is physically struggling to keep up, pained look on his face, saying “Dad, wait, this isn’t a race!” And dad responds with “Then you better hurry up!”
• The sidewalk they’re biking on encircles the playground. After one lap, no surprise, the kid wants to stop and play. He neatly parks his bike at the bike rack and gets off to walk to the playground. Here comes the dad passing by him: “Get back on your bike! You said you wanted to bring your bike, so we’re biking. We came here to ride our bikes. Come on, let’s go!” The kid hesitates and sees my child and me on the playground. “Guess you don’t want that bike then!” Yells the dad. “Nope, you don’t need that bike anymore! Now I’m going to sell it.” The kid gets back on his bike for another lap. After that, he’s so antsy that he parks it again and chases his dad on foot for fun. His dad just keeps biking at a decent speed in the wide circle around the park while the kid tries to catch him.
• Finally the dad relents and lets the kid play. He sits down on a bench and stares at his phone while his kid runs off. Within a couple minutes I hear the kid thud onto the mulch and start to cry loudly, running back to his dad. His dad responds with “What happened?! What happened! What’s going on?!” The kid is so upset that he’s not putting words together, the dad tells him he needs to calm down and breathe, and then “Back up, look, you’re getting me dirty.” He sits his kid next to him on the bench, no physical contact that I can see, and gets his kid to admit that he had tried to run up a slide. “If you want to be a big boy you need to play smarter. This isn’t about doing whatever we want, or racing around, or showing off here at the park. Here, brush yourself off, you’ve got to smarten up.” Kid’s still crying and getting no comfort. Meanwhile dad is imparting his “don’t show off” lesson loud enough that I can hear him.
I spent the time keeping distance when possible, keeping my kid focused on what we were doing, singing with and talking with my kiddo so all that mine would pick up on was simply that there was another kid there to play with their dad.
I’ve seen enough posts here to know that engaging to address something would have been a terrible idea. The only interaction I had was saying “thank you” when the dad complimented my kid’s hat, and when the other kid got curious enough to play near us as we were walking away, I asked him if he had seen an interactive feature on the playground — he looked and interacted with it a bit, and I said it was one of our favorite things there.
But the whole time, I’m wanting to scoop this kid up and give him a hug, or just do something to shine a little more light into his day. Every time I witness a kid who could use more in a particular moment, it really sticks with me, and I think about how many millions of kids could use more love, more comfort, more acceptance, more support.
When you see things like this in passing, how do you handle it? What do you do in the moment, and what do you do or tell yourself in the time that follows? I get stuck thinking w about all that a particular child might be experiencing in their lives, and although empathy is an important thing, I don’t know that getting stuck on this set of thoughts helps me move forward constructively.

Question: If April flowers bring May showers, what do May flowers bring?
Answer: Puritans and misery.
Part 1 - May Flower Moon
I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure this is a ghost story. It all started in early May under the, "Flower Moon".
In the still of the night, I awoke from a deep sleep to witness a moonlight so spectacular it hurt my eyes.
Fumbling for my glasses, I found them, dropped them, cursed, then almost stepped on them. I finally got them where they belonged thinking I needed to use the bathroom. I glanced at the digital clock on my desk.
3:33 am. Again.
Willow weep for me
Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me
-Ann Ronell as sung by Billie Holiday
The birds were chirping loudly. I shuffled to the window. I looked up wide-eyed at the sky. There was the moon; big, round and golden like it didn't mind a big electricity bill. As I used the bathroom, I remember thinking that I didn't ever remember a full moon so bright it could light up my apartment.
I washed my hands then splashed warm water on my face. I cracked my neck. I dried my hands and face with a towel. I remember thinking if I didn't get back to sleep the day was going to suck.
Shuffling back into my bedroom I thought to look for my ski hat. I figured I could pull it over my eyes and escape the light under the blanket. Flower Moon was beautiful but so too is sleep. If I could just hide under the blanket perhaps it wasn't too late for sleep to creep up on me.
I have been renting the same sunny shoebox in old Brooklyn for more than 20 years. It's a corner apartment on the second floor of a 19th century walkup. Across the street, diagonally resides a community garden fronted by a very tall and expansive weeping willow tree that won't let me move away. I didn't know it's age until recently. But it's younger than me. Most things are these days.
I shuffled to the corner window to squeeze the blinds tight and that's when I felt grateful, grateful I had decided to use the bathroom first.
There, at the base of the hundred-foot-tall willow, behind the wrought iron fence, illuminated beneath the moon's glow, I witnessed something that froze my blood and tested my aging bladder. Standing beneath the moonlight, I saw, clear as day, a little boy in footed pajamas with a trap door. The little boy was holding a blue stuffed Grover Muppet in one hand and crying.
Trying to get a good look at the boy was like trying to look at something from behind a campfire. There was a shimmering distortion. What I could clearly see was that he was pointing down at the ground in front of his feet with the non-Grover hand. Suddenly, the little boy spun his head up and around looking directly at me. Eye contact occurred and then too, something I can't explain.
First, a truck transporting fuel broke loudly for the red light at the corner. Through the open windows I smelled what seemed like diesel. I grew light-headed. The room spun around. I remember thinking this feeling smelled both nauseating as well as timeless.
I reached down to try and pick up the floor and that's when it hit me in the face. A sharp pain across my cheek like I had been slapped in a 3 Stooges short. I felt icy fingers grab the hair I had not had in over 30 years and jerk my head back. I smelled more diesel. I grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from losing my balance.
Holding on to the desk, I noticed my mind's eye was playing the little boy's face like a movie. The camera panned in. His little boy face filled my consciousness like I was watching from the front row. He was about four or five years old with long dirty blonde hair. His face looked familiar from a dream.
Then, another slapping pain turned my last good cheek. Losing my balance, I fell ass first to the floor.
Out the window, from on my ass, I watched the traffic light turn green. I heard the truck lurch into gear, rev it's engine then drive away. As it rumbled off into the distance my equilibrium returned.
Muttering my life sucked I gently shook my head and felt for damage. Just my non-existent pride. I got myself vertical, yet once again; feeling a distinct twinge of anxiety.
I looked out the window but the little boy was gone. An FDNY ambulance took his place, it's siren jarring me back to reality. I closed the blinds and got under the blanket. I never did really get back to sleep that night. Or ever since.
Part II - Unhappily Ever Since
Sad as I can be Hear me willow and weep for me... -Billie I keep seeing a little boy under the tree... - me ...
The first thing I want to say is that I keep waking up for decades at exactly 3:33 am.
It's the exact time my decrepit birth certificate claims I was introduced to this world. Can't say why, but ever since digital clocks became a thing, I'm up more often than not to witness 3:33 am transpire. Never remember it happening before digital.
One of my friends recently told me it was an angel number. I don't know anything about angels. Never met one. But I for sure have met some demons in my day. In fact. you might say I was born of demon mother, and I might not be offended. Back to my birth certificate. I was born and yes, still live in Brooklyn, New York. There were gaps but it's my home.
I moved to this particular apartment building a few months after 9/11. I had moved in with a woman at the tail end of doing a romantic nickel, but that fell apart like Madoff, Abramoff or Fuckoff, and she married another dude a year later. So, there in 2002, I and my faithful golden retriever, Spenser, found ourselves, for the very first time, on our own. And, we liked it.
Like I mentioned, Spenser and I lived diagonal to a community garden that fronts a big and beautiful weeping willow tree. I felt an immediate kinship as my favorite book as a child had been, "The Giving Tree" and that's what she reminded me of; only more beautiful.
There will be more about the tree. Anyway, the tree and I dwell in an old part of south Brooklyn called Park Slope, infamous for being the stomping grounds of a young Al Capone, and, believe it or not, young me.
That was a long time ago. Things have changed a lot since Al and I, were separately roaming the streets of Park Slope, looking for adventure and whatever came our way. I came up in the day when if you cried your mother would give you something to cry about. And, not going to lie, I cried a lot. I don't remember my dad that much.
I remember he was a hippie. I remember he had a big beard and moustache and long hair. I remember his denim jacket was always cold, smelling like weed and cigarettes. I remember he gave me, "The Giving Tree" and taught me how to read it. And then, I remember he was; gone. Just. Gone.
I also remember my mother. I remember her never talking much. I remember her just smelling like hair spray, cigarettes and instant coffee with sour milk. I never was able to drink milk, not even as a child, and to this very day just the sight of a milk carton turns my stomach to acid.
I lived alone with the old lady about half a mile from where I live now. Yeah, in over thirty years I made it a whole thirteen blocks. Like I said, my pride was non-existent these days unless I was sitting on it. Another, weird thing besides waking up at 3:33 am is I have a lot of memory lapses. It has been getting worse the last few years. Especially, since old Spenser had a seizure in my arms back on the 9/11 of '09. He was fifteen and my best friend. I'd always loved dogs. But after losing Spenser, I couldn't quite remember things right all the time.
Sometimes, it was little things. Like did I turn off the stove or lock the front door. Other times, it was deep things, like did the telephone repair man try to do something to me when I was five and left home alone. Like did I pull a kitchen knife on him before he scampered out like a thief in the night; scared he'd be caught by my screams for Batman? Did I remember my mother having strange guests over late at night? Did I remember being locked in my room? I just couldn't remember anymore.
I had taken to obsessively keeping lists. But you can't put ghost-busting on a list, can you? And that was my real problem. Ever since, the May Flower Moon the haunting just kept rinsing and repeating. Eat edibles, Nyquil, and Advil PM and still wake up at 3:33am. Smell diesel. Wave of nausea. Little boy in garden. Little boy crying. Little boy pointing at something. Little boy looking up at me. Little boy. Little boy. Little boy.
By last Friday, I was a mess.
My work is suffering. I am too embarrassed to tell my aunt or besties I see a little boy. They already think I am weird enough and last thing I need is a wellness check.
To remain scientific, I have continued my daytime visits to the garden whenever it is open. Everything seems so lovely in the day. I even brought the new woman I am seeing. She fell in love with the tree at first sight. The flowers are gorgeous. And the roses; so mesmerizing. Even the fish in the koi pond are happy.
But at night. Something isn't right.
...Weeping willow tree Weeping sympathy Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me Listen to me plead Hear me willow and weep for me...
My new friend at work I mentioned, who told me about angel numbers, asked me recently if something was bothering me. She told me when we met, she is in the midst of a spiritual awakening.
Part of it includes awakening every morning to read the Tarot cards and commune with who, or what, she calls, "spirit".
I cracked and told her about the little boy under the tree. She didn't bat an eye. She told me spirit wants something from me. I didn't know what to say to that so I just left it alone. I guess I'm afraid what if she's right. And what if I don't like what, "spirit" wants?
Last night was Saturday. I had a dream.
That night I dreamed about a collie I had when I was a very young boy right after my dad split. Her name was Pearl. I had found her on the street on my block and for some inexplicable reason had been allowed to keep her.
Not long after, one hot summer day in Prospect Park, when my mother was going to give me something to cry about, Pearl suddenly ran down the hill she was frolicking on, making a wide sweeping arc that screamed, "ride or die, full throttle, and damn the fucking torpedoes," it's trajectory directly between my mother's legs. Fur overcame flesh just in the nick before I was given something to cry about.
Instead, I laughed.
I laughed so fucking hysterically at the sight of her on the grass, on her ass; smug look gone with the wind; replaced by an expression seething red menace that would have been McCarthy's wet dream.
And, like the little boy at 3:33 am, Pearl's eyes met mine. She seemed to nod her collie head, as if she were acknowledging that, yes, she was the best dog and don't you forget it. I didn't cry much for a while after that till I came home from school and Pearl was gone. Just gone. To some farm I was told. Where she could be happier. So, I guess I did get something to cry about after all.
And then last night I had a dream.
Part III - It weeps for me?
I dreamed of Peter Pan and buried treasure. I dreamed of Stove Stop stuffing and commercials loud enough to drown out a breech birth. I dreamed of Spider-Man letting Uncle Ben's killer go free. I dreamed of being American. I dreamed of Watergate, the fall of the Berlin wall, 9/11 and watching people jump out windows to avoid burning to death out the window of my office.
I dreamed of Iraq and Afghanistan and George Floyd and Covid and never-ending cycles of boom and bust. I dreamed of a golden carrot on what started out as a stick but soon morphed into what I realized was a branch. A long flowing beautiful branch covered in red. A branch that hung low. It swayed along the ground, swayed above my head and there I was.
I was in the garden. Under the tree. I felt drops of warm dew caressing my face. I was about to reach up to caress the tree. My tree. I noticed I was wearing pajamas. Not the black satin jammies I had been wearing for decades but old footie pajamas. They were Star Trek pajamas. With three golden rings on the cuffs and a trap door.
A drop of dew fell in my eye. I wiped it away and looked at my hand. It was red. Red with blood. My Mickey Mouse watch involuntarily color-coordinated with the blood. It appeared to be just after 3:30 am.
Suddenly, a dog appeared. It was Pearl. Then another, it was Spenser. They jammed their snouts into my flannel covered crotch. I pet them both and noticed my tears mixing with the dewy blood drops turning them a soft pink under the moonlight.
"Good boy. Good girl." I said.
"Hi," a voice I recognized but couldn't place said.
I looked around. And there, was, the little boy. And, in his hand was Grover.
"Hi," I heard myself say.
"Who's the dog?" he said.
"That's Pearl. And this is Spenser." I answered.
"I know Pearl, silly. She's my dog," then, "Hi, Spenser."
Spenser left my crotch for the little boy's. They went together like peanut butter and sandwiches.
"Where are your parents?" I heard myself ask.
"Dad left. Mom told me to stay here until she comes back."
"When was that?" I asked.
The little boy shrugged then, "Been a while I guess," and he started to cry. Spenser got agitated and started to whine. I approached. I went to put my hand on the boy's shoulder and he jumped.
"Hey, it's okay." I took my hand back.
He looked up at me. Then he said, "You want to see something?
I said, "Yes."
The little boy fished around in his pajamas and pulled out something, it looked like a piece of rolled up construction paper secured with a red ribbon that matched the bloody dew drops.
He un-scrolled it then solemnly showed it to me.
It appeared to be a child's treasure map. That ended in the garden. Only it wasn't a garden. It said, "JUNK YARD" and there was a big X next to the corner of the rectangle the words were written in. I looked down at him.
"There's no junk yard here, son," I said.
The little boy looked away from Spenser and up at me. Pearl ran to his side. I felt six eyes on me.
"That's what you think," he said
A moment later there was the loud cracking of fireworks being detonated. I awoke in my bed. Fumbling for my glasses, I found them, dropped them, cursed, then almost stepped on them. I finally got them where they belonged thinking I needed to use the bathroom. I glanced at the digital clock on my desk.
3:33 am. Again.
I ran to the window to look out. But, unlike every other time for the past month, the boy was not in residence. He was gone. Just. Gone.
Part IV - The is The End
Gone my lovely dreams To weep my tears along the stream Sad as I can be Hear me willow and weep for me
...
This was fucking ridiculous. I am sane. I am not mad. I'd been reading, "The Giving Tree," too much. Spending too much time alone working from home. Maybe I just needed to get away. Take a trip somewhere.
I realized getting back to sleep was going to be impossible. So, I went into the kitchen and made a pot of tea. No milk.
Back at my desk, my "SHIT. FUCK. DAMN." glass mug of tea firmly in hand, I took a deep breath. There was no point in giving myself a heart attack. Maybe it was just anxiety. Maybe panic attacks. I had dated lots of neurotic women. That could be it. Maybe some Lexapro and I'd be good as new. I decided to check my email.
A woman I used to date from Queens and stayed friends with had sent me a link entitled, "Birth of a community garden." It was video to my garden. Before it was a garden. Over forty years ago. It was a decrepit vacant lot filled with dead cars and refuse and apparently had been a neighborhood drug bazaar. Like I said, things have changed a lot since Al and I were young as springtime.
By the time I moved back you would have never known what things had used to look like. Spray painted signs that read, "NO DRUGS SOLD HERE!" and the like. Just like the Batman, Dark Knight, the 80s were a time when Urban Renewal was striking back. And before you could say, "corruption at City Hall," there was fecund soil where once had stood God knows what.
It gave me hope that humanity wasn't so bad. Maybe I had just been going through a tough time. Maybe I should quit while I am ahead and get a good night's rest. So, I closed the blinds and went to bed.
Why I am never sleeping again
That night I dreamed I was part of the junk yard's saviors. Hauling out decades of festering trash and replacing it with good old Mother Earth. A whole community coming together to commune with nature. I felt myself smile.
All day we hoed the rows. The fecundity of the soil filling my nostrils. There was food and laughter and soon day turned to night. One by one all the gardeners left into the dusk. Soon I stood alone next to a young woman. She held a green army duffle bag. And two shovels.
"You look like a big, strong man. They're going to be planting a weeping willow tree here soon. But first, I wanted to leave the earth a special gift to grow up with the tree. This time I think we should give to the tree. Won't you help me?"
I felt a passing twinge of disgust. I rubbed my upper lip with the back of my hand and thought I smelled the faint smell of diesel. I heard myself say, "Hand me a shovel."
An hour later I had fulfilled the lady's request to deposit the duffel bag deep within the new garden's soil. She lit a cigarette I recognized. She blew some smoke in my face and it smelled like sour milk.
"Ever read a boy and his dog?" she asked.
I nodded.
"This is the opposite," she said. I smelled the diesel again and then remembered no more.
This morning I awoke feeling none too swell. I got my glasses on without dropping them for a change then sort of hobbled to the kitchen area to make some tea. I opened the blinds and there was my weeping willow tree. Swaying gently in the Sunday early June overcast chill.
Implacable. Inscrutable. True to it's nature. The day was gray as a widow's anniversary.
Well, there's always tea, I thought, ever the optimist. And then I dropped my, "SHIT. FUCK. DAMN." mug on my foot, simultaneously battering and scalding it. I let out a yelp.
Then, mouth agape, I smelled the diesel waft in the window by the fire escape. The window, where, leaning against the fire escape's stairs I witnessed something that froze my blood and tested my aging bladder.
I spied two shovels and an empty duffle bag.
I wonder what spirit will have to say about that?
Gone my lovely dreams To weep my tears along the stream Sad as I can be Hear me willow and weep for me
Willow Weep For Me?

A favorite person is someone you love and who loves you. It is just the only kind of love that you are capable of right now. But that doesn't make it any less real. It pays to look not at words and whether or not they reply. But at actions and facial expressions for security. Everyone has boundaries and if they distance themselves it is not because they do not love, they are trying to protect themselves the best they can. Actions and facial expressions are more reassuring than words could ever be. Because people often lie with words.

Long story short - I matched with someone on a trip out of my hometown and we continued to talk on the app we met on for a while, and also shared a few phone calls. The distance never really bothered me, but recently, he suggested he fly over for a weekend and it made my stomach do a backflip from how sudden it seemed? We’ve been talking for 2 weeks.
The thing that’s also causing me some confusion is that he seems REALLY into me despite never having a video chat or in person date, etc. I just don’t see how someone could want to fly out for someone they just met. That being said, he also seemed very casual about it and mentioned how it would be totally reasonable if I was uncomfy with that / needed to take things slower and that he was more than ok to hear any boundaries I had.
I can provide more details if needed, but that’s basically the gist of it! Has anyone experienced something similar? Does this sound super red-flaggy? I really want to just be honest with him and hope that he’ll be respectful, continue to get to know me, etc. but having been in an abusive relationship, I’m terrified I’m repeating history.

Hey! You! Come shoot with us!
Every other month, /Archery has a four-week session of its league. Anyone can come join in, and just about any round type can be shot as long as it's on a standardized target from WA/IFAA/NFAA!
Rules and whatnot can be found in the wiki, linked here. In order to enter, I'll need your username, what bow type you shoot, what round type you wish to shoot (distance/target size/number of arrows shot), and three preliminary scores from your chosen type of round along with pictures of the scorecards.
If you participated last session, you are automatically transferred to the upcoming one, so no need to sign back up!
Rankings can be found here!
Score submissions can be made via the form found here.
We even have a League Discord channel! If you wish to join the channel, please change your displayed username to your Reddit username so I know who's requesting what of me!
If you have any questions or simply want to put your name onto the list, either PM me, or reply here! Please do not use Reddit chat; it is very unreliable at informing me that I have messages.
If you are already in League and you wish to withdraw, you must let me know ahead of time or you'll be left on the list and suffer the penalties of missing weeks!
Signups will close at the end of the day on the 1st of July, 2023, Pacific Time. and all three preliminary scores need to be turned in before then. Competition will resume on the 3rd of July, 2023!
I hope to see you there!

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 found 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 (=

Got back into running consistently every day about 3 months ago but mostly been on a track or pavement but that gets kind of boring now that I’m running longer distances and I live in a place with 100’s of miles of hiking and running trails that I would hate to not take advantage of but the shoes I have now don’t really have enough support for trail running because my knees, hips, and ankles hurt after running on trails so I’m curious if anyone has some suggestions on some nice trail running shoes? Or just shoes that have better support?

I'm a 30 year old working professional looking for someone I can chat and flirt with, and if the opportunity presents itself, meet up. I live in the DC metro area and I'm seeking a busty woman at least 25 years old. You do not have to be local to my area but being local (within a few hours drive) is a plus, but I am also just as happy with keeping our interaction from a distance online.
A little about me: I am a 30 year old mixed man. I'm about 6' and I'm a chubby guy. I have a fantastic beard and lots of tattoos. I love to game and enjoy anime and all things nerd-life. I'm attracted to shorter, white, plus-sized women and am definitely a boobs man. I have no preference on tattoos or piercings or really anything else past those details.
DM/Chat me and let's see if this works for the both of us! Your pic gets mine.