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kinglazrus · 4 years ago

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Not Your Danny – Ch 4. Who Understands

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Word count: 3739

The memorial notebook sits open on Jazz's desk. For the twenty minutes, Jazz has sat here with her rule and pencil carefully tracing out a template for the event schedule. The hour of the event, pencilled in as one to two p.m., is broken into fifteen-minute increments which have three bullet points each. The bullet points, along with the fifteen-minute boxes, are colour coded and measured out to perfect, equal distance.

At the top of the page, the words "Memorial Schedule" are written in a loose, flowing script and dark ink. Eraser smudges behind the ink are the only indication of how much time and care Jazz put into making those letters.

Now, the blank schedule stares up at her, waiting only for Jazz to finalize the plans. The memorial itself is still three weeks out, but it is still too soon. Even though they buried Danny a fortnight ago, the memorial feels more final. Jazz doesn't want to say it, but she already knows why she feels this way.

Danny was a halfa. He was her sweet, human brother, but he was the town hero, too. There's a chance, no matter how slim, that he might still be out there as a full ghost. There has to be a chance. It doesn't matter that he died as Phantom. It doesn't matter that Sam and Tucker themselves were there to see his ghost half fizzle out, see the human body it left behind. There has to be a chance.

The funeral was for Danny Fenton, but the memorial is for Danny Phantom, for the whole city to mourn the loss of their hero. For Jazz to acknowledge that her brother, in his entirety, is gone forever.

Suddenly, looking at the notebook makes her feel nauseous. She closes it and shoves it aside. It's late enough now that she could go to bed, but she doesn't feel tired, not physically. After the fiasco at dinner, Jazz wants to shut everything out for a little bit. Pretend she lives in her own bubble where everything is fine.

How could she have forgotten? Seeing Dani's human face certainly took her by surprise, but she was not unprepared for it. Unlike their parents, Jazz didn't have trouble separating Fenton from Phantom. They were the same to her and looking at Dani's ghostly face was already close enough to seeing her little brother. Instead of the face itself, Jazz was stunned to see Dani in human form at all. At the same time, it brought her comfort. Dani and Danny, no matter how similar, are not the same. But having her here, seeing her do the things Danny used to do...

It's so easy. Having Dani fill her little brother's place on the couch when the watch TV. Having her by Jazz's side when they cook. She can't help it. It's almost like having Danny back, so soon after they lost him. And every time Dani doesn't fill that hole, it hurts in a way Jazz never expected.

She rubs her eyes and leans back in her chair. Maybe she should go to sleep after all.

—

"You want us to host... a memorial?" her mother asked. It was obvious Maddie had been crying that day, her eyes red and puffy. Perhaps not too long before Jazz came to talk to her parents.

Jazz herself had been in tears not too long ago when Sam phoned her with the idea. She nodded. "Yes. I know it's only been a few days, but this is Sam's idea and I think it's a good one. Mom, Dad..." she took a deep breath, bracing herself. "I knew. All along, I knew about Danny being Phantom. And it was so important to him. A memorial to Phantom could help you come to terms with not knowing about this side of Danny."

Maddie's hand, flat on the table, curled into a fist. "Jazz, we haven't even... the funeral is tomorrow. I've been on the phone with Alicia all day because she can't make it down in time. Chartering a plane costs too much and there isn't a flight out for weeks. I know this is important, but—"

"I think it's a good idea," Jack said. Stretching forward, he reached across the table and patted Jazz's shoulder. "But I think what you mother means is that we need time to consider it. It's hard adjusting to all this."

"I know. But promise me you really will think about it? It would mean a lot to him." Jazz waited until her father nodded. "Okay. I'll just... yeah. Think about it."

She left the kitchen in silence. That went okay. A shorter conversation than Jazz would have liked, but small steps are still steps. She needed to text Sam later and let her know the verdict, as tentative as it was. For now, she will leave her parents to think, hoping they eventually agree.

Halfway to her bedroom, a noise from Danny's room made her pause. She couldn't be certain, but it sounded like the squeak of his bed springs. Tip-toeing closer, Jazz stared at the crack under his door. A faint white light shone through.

"Danny?" Jazz whispered.

There came another creak.

Jazz's breath stopped, caught in her throat. She crept closer, pressing her hand against the door, and eased it open. In the dark of Danny's room, the figured outline in glowing light leapt from the shadows, impossible to miss. The aura, far brighter than the dim light of hall, nearly blinded Jazz, but its colour was unmistakable.

She pushed the door open. "Danny!"

The figure flinched and threw themselves into the air, twisting around to face Jazz. She slapped her hand against the switch on the wall, flooding the room with orange light. No longer blinded, she found herself now face-to-face with a Phantom. Not Danny, though, but Dani-with-an-I.

She looked horrible, her white hair caked with mud, dirt smeared along half her face. Suit wrinkled and damp.

"Oh, my God, Danielle." Jazz gasped.

"It's true?" Tears welled in Dani's eyes. "It's true? He's gone?"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even think..."

That was all Dani needed to hear. She spun away and bolted, flying through the wall.

"Dani, wait!" Jazz called after her, but the young halfa was already gone. Jazz threw the window open, leaning out over the alley to a dangerous degree. Searching the sky, she tried to find and trace of Danny's clone, but everything around her was dark. Not a single glimpse of silver light to be seen.

Jazz pulled herself back inside and dropped to the floor, hands pressed over her mouth. She had forgotten, completely, that there was another person out there important to Danny, someone who wouldn't know about his death right away. In the days since Danny's death, Danielle's existence hadn't crossed Jazz's mind. It made her feel rotten. Dani had been important to Danny, but she slipped so easily from Jazz's memory.

However, through the wave of guilt, Jazz could not forget that single moment before she turned on the light. No more than a second, but still the happiest she felt in days, when she saw the aura of a Phantom and believed that her brother had not died after all.

—

The star shirt fits well, better than Dani expected it to. She drapes her hoodie across the back of Danny's desk chair before sliding in front of the mirror. It fits and it looks good. Looking herself up and down, Dani blushes. She has never thought of herself as a self-conscious person but seeing herself in something other than her regular hoodie fills her with warmth. She likes wearing something that doesn't look two times too big for her, showing off more of her form.

Although she has never said it out loud, that is part of the reason why she likes being in her ghost form so much more. The pants, the crop top, she likes them so much better than her human clothes. Until now, they were her only option, since she didn't want to cart around a backpack full of clothes, but now she has a room. She has a place to keep things, her things.

She could actually have things. The temptation to own stuff has always eluded her, but the longer she stays at Fenton Works surrounded by things that are not hers, the more she understands.

Dani rarely stays in one place for so long. Only a week and one day, but it feels so much longer. Looking at herself in the mirror, she's struck by the realization that this is home now. She has a home. Her mind still struggles to wrap around the idea, but the word does not feel so foreign anymore. After Vlad, all she wanted was freedom, and she got it. But while roaming the world was fun and exciting, it was also incredibly lonely.

She had always had Danny, though. Their relationship wasn't perfect, and they never acknowledged how they were related beyond the loose label of cousins, but she had him. And then he was gone without her even realizing.

Dani didn't know what to expect when Jazz extended her the offer of moving into Fenton Works. And, to be honest, she still doesn't know. Things are strange, and still lonely sometimes, but not bad. That has to count for something, right?

She toys with the buttons of the shirt, wondering if she could somehow tie the bottom, wear it shorter than it is. As she considers the style, her hands drop to the waist of her shorts, bright red and loose. They don't go with the shirt very well. Unfortunately for Dani, she has already been through all of Danny's clothes, and she does not like any of his pants, even if there were some smaller, older pairs that might have fit her.

There is a hint of promise, though. Dani has seen how much junk fills the Fenton garage. They are the kind of people who hold on to things until they absolutely do not need it anymore. Judging by Danny's drawers and closet, clothes get the same treatment as any other junk.

Jazz must have a few old pants lying about. A skirt sounds nice. Dani has never worn one of those, but girls always look so pretty in them.

Her door is open when Dani makes the trek down the hall. Jazz herself is slumped over at her desk, arms folded under her head.

Dani walks into the room and pokes Jazz's shoulder. "Did you sleep at your desk last night?"

Jazz wakes with a start, flinching at Dani's touch. She rubs her eyes, then the side of her face. A thick red mark overtakes her cheek where it had been laying on her arm.

"Dani?" Jazz's voice is thick with sleep. She sits up, stretching her arms and arching her back until it pops. Her neck cracks a few times as she roles her head. "What are you doing?"

"Do you have any old clothes?"

Jazz blinks. "It's rude to walk into someone's room without warning them."

"You were asleep, though. Clothes?"

Blinking a few more times, Jazz clears her eyes and looks Dani up and down. Her gaze lingers on the shirt. "That’s..."

"Found it in Danny's closet. I can't believe he actually wore something like this."

Jazz shook her head. "No, he didn't like it. Sam got it for him as a joke, because of the stars. I don't think he ever wore it."

"Really?" A smile breaks out across Dani's face. If Danny didn't wear this shirt, then technically that makes it hers. She owns something now.

"Yeah. Did nothing else of his fit? It's okay if you want to wear it. I think that would feel better than packing it all up," Jazz says. "You don't have any clothes besides the pyjamas Mom bought, right?"

Dani actually forgot that she has those. "I went through his clothes already. Didn't really like them much. Do you have a skirt?"

Jazz's eyes go wide. "A skirt?" For reasons' Dani can't fathom, Jazz says it like it is the strangest thing in a world. Dani wanting a skirt? Preposterous. "Danny never liked skirts."

There it is. "Duh, Danny was a dude."

"I know, but I mean. He wasn't comfortable in that kind of clothing before he transitioned. Your hoodie and cargo shorts aren't so different from what he used to wear, so I thought..." Jazz trails off, but her point is already made.

"Jazz, I'm comfortable being a girl. I like being a girl. Being made from his DNA doesn't make me his clone."

Jazz opens her mouth to correct Dani.

"You know what I meant." Dani wraps her arms around herself, feeling small like she did her first day here. "I don't know why I need to keep saying this, but I'm not Danny, okay?"

Jazz grimaces. "I know, Dani. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you were."

That isn't what Dani meant, but she doesn't press further. "So, about that skirt?"

—

Later that day, when Jazz asks Dani if she wants to watch a show, Dani says no.

—

"What did you do when you weren't in Amity Park?" Jack asks. The question comes out of nowhere, as they always do. In the few days since he took Dani's samples, she has seen him outside the lab far more often. Joining them at mealtimes, coming upstairs in the evening. Sometimes she hears the heavy beats of his approach moments before he pops into the room with a question on his tongue, like now.

Dani holds a moment, her gaze lingering on the models surrounding Danny's desk, before spinning in the chair to face Jack. "I travelled."

Jack, rightfully so, takes her answer as an invitation and comes further into the room. "Oh, yeah?" He sits down on the bed facing her. "Where did you go?"

"All over. I mostly stayed in the United States, at first, but there's so much stuff to see out there. The pyramids were awesome."

Just as Dani found her rhythm with Maddie and Jazz in her first days at Fenton Works, she and Jack seem to be finding what works for them. She likes the time they spend together. His questions feel genuine. Sometimes, he asks her about what being a ghost is like, what abilities she has. His eyes glow with fascination every time she answers. Dani has never seen anyone so engrossed by a single topic before.

But her favourite times are when he asks about her. What does she like? Does she have any hobbies? She gets the feeling that this is how Jack shows interest in people, by asking about themselves, and she returns the favour whenever she can.

"Have you ever been to Egypt?" Nudging the desk, Dani pushes herself back and forth on the chair, turning slowly in place. Her eyes keep catching on the models she had been examining when Jack entered.

Danny had a lot of models, all of them related to space, apparently. Planets, spaceships, little astronaut figures. Much like the posters on his wall, Dani sees no use for them, but Danny obviously liked them. He has two spaceships that look identical. One sits on his desk, safely kept behind a glass box. The other stands tall on the shelf above the desk.

"No." Jack's voice pulls Dani back to the conversation. "Mads wants to go, though. What was your favourite place that you saw?"

Dani has to pause and think about this. The pyramids are high contenders. She went to Japan for a few weeks last year and explored the natural landscape. There was so much beauty there. She has been to a lot of beautiful places, but none of them are her favourite.

"I don't know where it was. It was back when I could barely hold myself together, when I was destabilizing, remember?"

Jack nods. Dani told him that story only yesterday.

"Flying was really hard then, and it made me tired. I got lost a lot between cities if I wasn't following a highway. When I was heading back to Amity Park, I passed out once when flying." Dani hugs her knees. That was one of the scariest moments of her life, second only to melting in Vlad's lab. Before passing out, she could barely see, the sky and the ground blurring together. Her very core ached and, when the darkness started creeping in, she thought she was done fore.

"I woke up in this woman's home. She found me out in the forest and took me in. Didn't care that I was a ghost. I stayed with her for a few days. She actually... she offered to let me stay forever." Dani said no, of course. She had to get to Amity Park, to Danny, to get fixed. "She didn't even know me, but when I told her I didn't have any family beyond a cousin, she just... said I could stay. I left as soon as I could fly again. Haven't been able to find my way back."

Jack's heavy hand settles on her head. He ruffles her hair, the small act of comfort filling her with warmth. "Sorry you didn't get to take that chance, kiddo."

Dani ducks her head and rubs her eyes. There are no tears, but she needs the excuse to look away. There is a weight behind Jack's words, one Dani can feel, but not decipher. She thinks, perhaps, that Jack's words aren't entirely for her.

"So, what were you doing just now?"

Grateful for the distraction, Dani slides the chair over so Jack can see the desk. "Looking at stuff."

Her endeavour of going through of Danny's things has proved harder than she originally thought. It's so easy to get distracted by some small trinket, and she often finds herself wondering what Danny did with it, why he kept it all. Cheap toys from fast food restaurants. Paper airplanes stuck between book pages. A ball of rubber bands bigger than Dani's fist.

At first, she only wanted to look, commit these items to memory. Jazz said it took time before people put away a lost loved one's things, and even though Dani didn't understand, she would respect it. But Jazz's comment about the clothes has been lingering in her mind all day.

Despite Dani's own assurance of her personhood, was there anything she could like only because Danny did? She thought she might find the answer if she pondered long enough, but so far all its done is made her question why people collect things.

She touches the box encasing spaceship.

"That was his favourite."

Dani starts, jerking her hand away from the glass. For a moment, she forgot he was there. His face is turned toward her, but his eyes fixate on a point to her left. Dani doesn't need to turn back around to know what he's looking at.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Space Shuttle Columbia, the first of the Space Shuttle program. At least that's what Danny said it was. I can never tell the difference."

Dani looks from the Columbia to the second model on the shelf, this one smaller and lacking a protective case.

"Are you sure they aren't the same shuttle?" she asks.

Jack chuckles. "Absolutely. Danny never let it go if anyone mixed the two up."

"What's so special about this one?" Dani taps the Columbia's box.

"It was maybe the third model that he got? The first two were pretty cheap. He saved up for them himself. Took a while. I didn't even realize he had them until he mentioned wanting a third. Didn't even realize he liked space so much... I bought this for him a week later and gave it to him after school."

Dani nods along as Jack speaks, although she doesn't see the point yet. Lots of people have expensive things; that doesn't automatically make them special.

"We built it together. I wasn't interested in stars and astronomy, but Danny asked me to help him with it, so I did. I never got why it was his favourite, though. He had better ones, models he saved up for penny by penny. He made that one"—Jack nods to the model on the shelf—"with Sam and Tucker. But sometimes, I think..."

Jack falls silent.

Dani catches his reflection in the glass display case. He has one hand pressed over his eyes, the other fisted at his side. Dani has yet to see either Maddie or Jack cry since coming to Fenton Works, and she thinks that streak is about to end.

"I know we weren't the best parents. There've been times when we've... neglected our duties to focus on ghosts instead. I never thought about it before, but it couldn't have been easy on a couple of young kids. All I ever wanted was for Danny to follow the Fenton family footsteps. But space was his. And sometimes I think he liked this model the best because it was the first time I showed any interest in something he liked."

Jack shudders as he exhales.

Dani resists the urge to go invisible. This heart-to-heart stuff really isn't her thing. Their little question and answer sessions have been fun, but talking about the woman in the forest was already deep enough for Dani. Now things are getting a little too intense.

If Jack does start to cry, she might flee out of sheer awkwardness. He doesn't—thank God—but when he pulls his hand away from his face, he looks old and tired.

Dani racks her brain for something to say. "I think... maybe... he liked it the most because it showed that you loved him, not just because it was about space. Or something."

Jack meets Dani's eye through his reflection and cracks a smile. "I guess if anyone could say what Danny might think, it would be you."

The words cut through her.

"Right," Dani says, her voice empty. "Sure."

Jack nods, as if Dani has revealed some great truth to him, and turns away. His footsteps are louder as he heads for the door, more like his regular self. Dani has no doubt that Jack is leaving this room feeling brighter than before.

All Dani feels is an uncomfortable twist in her gut.

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#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #notyourdanny #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #dani phantom #danielle phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #trans danny fenton #trans danny #nyd chapter four

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voidsentprinces · 5 years ago

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WIP Writing (Horror?)

They stepped out of the car and made their way to the side walk. Their feet crunching against the grass, but one would of thought they had stumbled upon a land mine. The crushing of the matter was resounding, it seemed louder than it usually did. To describe this phenomenon in a better manner would most likely be best conveyed by considering the operation of a microwave. Operating a microwave during the day seemed average. You’d press the button which released the latch and opened the door, you’d place your food on the glass plate, close the metal door and the latches re-engaged. Pressed each button which range in confirmation, hit the start button and machine starts up. When finished it rings to make you aware of this.

With all the noise outside cars passing by in the distance, lawn mowers, talking, television, birds and so forth. The operation of a microwave seems like a standard task. However, when operating a microwave at night. Suddenly it becomes far more obnoxious. The opening of the door that the crushing of metal, the ringing of each button confirming the time of cooking like a siren, the closing of the like the punching of steel, the cooking process now like a giant airplane engine places next to your ear, and finally--the confirmation that the cooking was finished. Now erupting like a noise horn.

Similarly, while stepping on grass with the normal sound during a busy day. Would be found to be average. Here. Here in this place the mundane was amplified. With each blade of grass crunching under their footsteps, there came to be more obnoxious than before.

That’s when she noticed. It wasn’t simply the grass, it was--everywhere. A sense of wrongness that wasn’t just paranoia. It was the atmosphere, very real fact. In this neighborhood, there was nothing. Nothing at all. Much like the microwave scenario, she would have to observe the wrongness. Step by step, sense by sense. Beginning from the top and working from the bottom.

Hearing. What did she hear? Nothing only her breath and his. There was no sound of television, no far off freeway of cars, no birds singing, no train horns, no sprinklers. There was no singular cough nor noise not even the high pitch whining someone might usually of been able hear. Even through a dense crowd. There was...nothing.

Smell. The neighborhood’s smell, how would it be best described? It was sunny day and yet the air was full of moisture. Like a rain storm had finished passing through or like fog had set it. It wasn’t clear smell, like all pollution had gone when a great storm passed through. More like, a frozen dinner. The odd, subtly pungant odor of a freezer. Plastic, false, just fact.

Taste. The air held a unique taste. No traces of gasoline from passing cars. No sense of fresh grass clippings. It was not crisp from rain or back washed from humidity. It was not unlike an attic’s taste. Dust and stagnation. Something locked away from the rest of the house. Like cedar chest. The distinctness of ancient pillows from an elder relative. Long since forgotten by residence until Spring cleaning.

Sight. What did she see? No one but them. She and him. The finely dressed, ever grinning man known by the city as “The Boss”. Known to her, now, as Mammon the Prince of Greed. He was beside the point. But, the neighborhood seemed to resemble him in some fashion. Immemorial, untouched, and forgotten. The grass over grown, the trees in need of cutting back, cars parked and covered in a good layer of dust. Fences in need of paint, ivy climbing up the side of houses, rusted metallic fences and worn down hub caps.

That is what she could see. But, the most important question is what couldn’t she observe? It was early afternoon, surely some cars would be passing by? Coming home from appointments, driving kids home from school, returning from work? No traffic, no police patrol, there were no children outside. No one walking out from forgetting something in their car, hosing their gardens, no one biking by or walking their dog. The silence was exactly like an attic’s. Foreboding, locked away from the rest of the world. Eyeing the mail box, nothing had been delivered here in sometime.

The nothing frightened her. There are areas, where nothing happens. Quiet neighborhoods. But, not this, the neighborhood was completely different. For crying out loud, there weren’t even ants crawling along the side walk. No annoying flies buzzing or biting gnats swarming somewhere. There was absolutely nothing. They were the only life.

Then it was broken by the jingling of something metallic. Her head shot in the direction it was coming from. It was Greed digging in his pockets and plucking a set of keys from his personage. Slowly, his gloved hands flowed over as his lips formed to count the numbers he had passed over. After reaching seventeen, he pinched the key between his fingers and lifted the entire ring up.

“Dis way.” He spoke in his usually, insultingly bad accent. His chest rumbling as he did so. Stepping forward and placing his hand on the gate before them. Bending over the fence that only reached up to his waste, he undid the metallic latch on the opposite side. The rusted metal making a whining screech that might as well of been akin to a caterwaul in this neighborhood. But, still no movements. Not the movement of curtains, the opening of doors, nothing budged from the silence. Life continued...not to move on.

With their destination now firmly in sight. She decided to better observe, their surroundings.

A two story house, standard for a suburban neighood. Everyone had seen or lived near one. Three windows up top, a door for entry with a hazy screendoor to protect the actual front one, and a wide window for the front room. A grass lawn with a garden of weeds growing against the frontroom window. Beige white curtains, the house itself being painted not quite white-not quite yellow. A cement pathway moving through the lawn to the front porch. A dog house off to the side, canineless. Another gate to the left side as they entered, the front yard. Leading to their drive way, a dust covered aquamarine mini-van taking up residence in said area.

Garage extension with a clearly white folding door. Red fenced off side area with the ever common: “Beware of Dog” metallic sign attached. Though, the sign had began to corrode from rust and age.

Another caterwaul as Greed had gone ahead and pulled open the screen door. The graceful singing it announced with as much delicacy as a banshee. A cloud of dust coming loose as the roof exhaled it. Having been so underutilized, the saw dust-like cloud must of been like moths in this neighborhood.

Mammon pushed the seventeenth key into the opening. With some difficulty, he managed to turn the key as a heavy latch thunked from beyond. Turning the knob, he pushed it open. Revealing inside the house, an oppressive darkness. It wasn’t just that all the lights were turned off, its that no light from the outside sun penetrated it from any curtain within. Though his large frame might of still be blocking all warmth from coming in.

Sure enough, the broad prince of sin entered the building and light sheared the foreboding black apart. Hestitant at first, she took one last glance out side. No movement, no quickly ducking out of cover, there wasn’t even the feeling of being watched. Just silence and now dust falling across the porch.

#{ i'll come back to this another way }#{ wip }

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sentrygarage · 7 years ago

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Tips for using garage door repairs are Ensure That the Parts of the Door Are Working Properly, Testing the Balance of the Door, Selecting the Right Kind of Opener, Checking the Opening Force of The Door.

#garage door broken spring Point Cook #Garage door repairs Williams landing

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thatcrazywonderfulbeautiful-blog · 6 years ago

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Garage Doors That Pose Dangers

One useful part in your home is the carport. Some incline toward a more seasoned style tilt-up carport entryway, while most property holders today lean toward a move up carport entryway. In the carport you put your vehicle, your tyke's bikes, and your fix devices. Around the house, a ton of mishaps may occur. It is conceivable to consume your hand while cooking in the stove, separate your leg while falling the stairs, or unintentionally thump your head under the eating table while going after that fork you dropped. There is peril all over the place, and your carport isn't a special case. Do you have a programmed carport entryway? In the event that its carport entryway opener is non-switching, your family might be stuck in an unfortunate situation.

Many years prior, carport entryways were made of wood. At that point from the old outbuilding entryway style, carport entryways formed into steel entryways and entryways improved of engineered materials for protection and sturdiness. Fundamentally, a carport entryway may gauge many pounds. Genuine, is anything but a smart thought whether your youngster, or even you, get caught under a carport entryway. So certain safeguards are required so as to guarantee your family's security.

In the event that you have a programmed carport entryway that does not naturally turn around, you ought to supplant it with another opener that can do switch. Reports gotten by the U.S. Purchaser Product Safety Commission (CPSC) states that around 60 kids between the ages of 2 and 14 have been caught and murdered under programmed carport entryways since 1982. Different reports demonstrate that other youngsters had extreme wounds when the end of carport entryways nearly smashed them. That is the reason non-turning around carport entryway openers ought to be supplanted on the double. Or then again, you may settle on another private carport entryway establishment on the off chance that you need another entryway with a switch carport entryway opener. Try not to be happy with carport entryways that just stop at whatever point it hits an article under it. You ought to pine for the switching one. Visit capitalgaragedoorottawa.com in kanata for more information.

Check your carport entryway for indications of breakdown and disappointment. Supplant parts that should have been supplanted. To do that, you need to ensure that your entryway is adjusted. It should remain set up when halted in any in part opened position. In the event that your carport entryway is unequal, it might simply crash at whatever point someone is under it or not. Never enable your tyke to be close to the zone of the carport when an entryway registration is going on. In many announced occasions, even proficient carport entryway professionals have endured genuine wounds like broken bones during the time spent supplanting carport entryway springs. The strain spring and torsion springs are difficult to supplant in view of the extraordinary power forced by the heaviness of the carport entryway. That is the reason it is essential not to do it all alone or by a relative who isn't likewise fit the bill to change or supplant carport entryway parts. So never under any circumstance imagine that you can do carport entryway fix without anyone else.

You need to keep up your carport entryway more regularly than keeping up your vehicle. On the off chance that your carport entryway neglects to work it might collide with floor, presumably harmed somebody under it, which is bound to be your companion or your tyke. Along these lines, it is an insightful safety measure to have normal upkeep and fix for your carport entryways.

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bakedberry · 7 years ago

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Para 🍺 Faberry.

Who: Rachel and Quinn. What: Rachel discovers Quinn’s ring, drains a fifth of vodka, and then kisses Santana. In turn, Quinn takes care of a very obstinate and drunk Rachel. Where: Finn’s Aunt’s Lake House When: Wednesday, April 3rd, 2013, Evening. Thursday, April 4th, Morning.

The group vacation with the Romantics wasn’t as bad as Quinn thought it was going to be. They were able to respect each other’s space and Quinn mostly just avoided being anywhere too near both Santana and Rachel. Santana still hated her, she was sure, and Rachel… well… she still couldn’t be near Rachel. It stirred up too many feelings she always forced herself to ignore. But God, did she look at her. She watched her. When she was certain Rachel wouldn’t notice, like if she was bundled on the porch for a little while or by the fireplace, Quinn watched her. She couldn’t help it. She missed her something awful.

That made it difficult to keep up appearances, to seem happy with everyone else. At least the alcohol helped cheer her mood rather than bring it down. She kept herself in the tipsy state because she feared anything more than that would put her into a tailspin of emotions she refused to deal with. But things perked up more when Finn gave her the promise ring, with his promise that he would always come home to her. Quinn needed to hear it. While she supported his decision to join the Air Force, she feared what it might mean. She didn’t allow herself to think much that he might not ever return home. She hoped his experience working in Burt’s garage would allow him to be placed somewhere to help fix things, rather than being put in direct harm’s way.

Finn gave the ring when they were alone and they certainly didn’t announce it to anyone once they were with the group again. That was a sure fire way to end the trip because it would, no doubt, stir up drama. But that was fine with Quinn. She’d happily keep her ring to herself because it meant so much to her, and she didn’t want anyone to ruin it for her anyway.

Tonight was her turn, with Finn, to help cook dinner. It was very cold in March, but Finn insisted on using the outside grill anyway. Quinn made sure, when she planned their meal to cook, that she provided many vegan options. She even bought some extra vegan snacks for the house for Rachel. Not that she told her. She put them in the cabinet in a large brown paper bag labeled “vegan 4 Rachel” and left it at that.

But for dinner, she made marinated veggie skewers for the grill and told Finn at least a dozen times to make sure he kept them on tinfoil and not to allow any meat juices to touch them. Then they had cheeseburgers, hamburgers, and some bacon stuffed burgers too for everyone else. Quinn made macaroni and cheese, a warm vegan pasta salad, baked beans (which were also vegan) and corn. She brought brownies, ice cream, and sundae toppings for dessert (and bought a vegan brownie and soy ice cream for Rachel).

Currently, she was in the kitchen and setting up the island counter with all the food, buns, condiments, and drinks while she waited for Finn to bring in the food off the grill. Once everything was set up, she wrote up four cards with the word “vegan” on it and placed them in front of the pasta salad, baked beans, corn and an empty plate that would hold the veggie skewers.

The irony wasn’t lost on Rachel that just last year she was lying about what and where she would be for spring break -- in Chicago with Quinn -- and that this year her dads were essentially forcibly encouraging her to go away with her friends, unsupervised, and to live a little. So Rachel resigned herself to spending her senior spring break just like she had thus far spent the entirety of her senior year: miserably.

Because Rachel was a bit of a masochist apparently. Try as she might -- and really she’d been trying since September -- she couldn’t force her heart to let go of her attachment to Quinn. She still loved and cared a stupid amount for someone who had threatened to beat her face in and would make contact -- and never verbal at that -- when it was only convenient for her. And Rachel had noticed -- because her heart gave her no other choice -- that Quinn had been the one providing food for her throughout the week, but by now Rachel had to wonder if it wasn’t just all for show. A saving face of sorts that Quinn could still be the doting and caring friend.

And maybe it was that notion of Quinn wearing yet another mask, playing the part, that spurned Rachel to enter the kitchen when she knew Quinn was there and alone. Maybe she wanted to see if any part of Quinn’s facade could crumble or crack, but as she watched Quinn place a card reading ‘vegan’ in front of an empty plate, Rachel was the one to actually feel something within her break at the implication.

“What is that?” No formality. No civil greeting. Just Rachel pointing to Quinn’s left hand and her newly adorned ring finger. Because Quinn wasn’t the only one constantly watching. Rachel silently noticed most everything. Subtle changes from the way Quinn parted or braided her hair, a change in shampoos or fragrance, reddened eyes and a sniffling nose or missing school entirely. She noticed new clothes and routines, or ones, like almond milk, that remained the same, or what it meant when Quinn dressed down for school. She noticed when Quinn would watch, too, but of course Rachel wouldn’t -- or couldn’t -- say a word because if she did the rejection she knew she’d face would nearly be unbearable. But noticing a change like this, well Rachel couldn’t just categorize and then compartmentalize such an addition without knowing for sure.

Hearing Rachel's voice, and knowing the words were directed at her, made Quinn freeze. For the briefest of moments, she wished they were alone, completely, no other Romantics there because Quinn wanted to face Rachel and look at her and be close to her. But she couldn't be. And the guilt set in always because she loves Finn and these feelings or whatever they were for Rachel were screwing up her life. She had become so detached from nearly everyone but Finn lately.

Once she relaxed, she looked over at Rachel and followed her gaze to her ring. And then she hid it. She moved her hand away and hid it from Rachel's view, and why would she do that? Why should she? Because maybe she knew it might hurt Rachel. Or maybe because she didn't want Rachel to know? Quinn's stomach twisted. “It's… Finn gave it to me. A promise that he'll come home to me.” And she didn't know what else to say so she said nothing more.

In an instant all the air rushed from Rachel’s lungs, as if she had been punched directly in the gut, and she actually had to reach out and grab the kitchen counter to remain steady on her feet. Her grip remained white-knuckled as a wave of emotions hit -- anger, mostly aimed at herself for being affected so, and a bit toward Quinn just because she could; incredulousness at the fact that Quinn hid her hand; and just an overwhelming sense of sadness. Because Rachel was dumb and in love and hung up on a girl who had broken her heart, who had broken her, and had obviously moved on without a thought or a care or--

Rachel’s feet were moving without really an conscious thought and she didn’t offer Quinn any sort of explanation or further reaction as she opened the freezer side of the refrigerator and snagged the unopened bottle of vodka around its icy neck, closed the door, and then left the kitchen.

Quinn watched. She watched what happened, the way Rachel reacted, and it felt like a knife was twisting into her stomach. She was upset and, yet again, Quinn was the one behind it. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. There was no way she could make this better. What could she possibly say? Besides, she’d been treating Rachel like crap, ignoring her all the time. She was the one to ruin her friendship and how could she fix that now? No amount of vegan food would do it. And she still wanted to kiss the brunette in moments of weakness so how could she fix anything when those feelings still existed?

But when Rachel walked away, Quinn followed. She didn’t know why, she was just doing it. Her mind went blank for a moment and then she was thinking of nothing but Rachel. “Wait,” she said once she had almost caught up with the girl, but she wouldn’t reach for her. She couldn’t touch her.

Marching through the living area and toward the front of the house and porch, Rachel didn’t immediately stop, but her steps eventually slowed. Still, she took a few moments to turn and face Quinn, because Rachel hadn’t expected her to follow -- not when she had been avoiding her all year -- and wanted to try and blink away traitorous tears.

“For what?” Nearly monotone in delivery, Rachel’s voice echoed her posture. Bent. Broken. Exhausted. “All I’ve done all year is wait. I’m tired of waiting.” And clearly there was no point in waiting any longer.

“I know,” Quinn said, after a brief moment. Her eyes didn’t leave Rachel’s. And then she felt it, again, the want to move closer, to be near Rachel, to lay with her in bed. But she loved Finn. How could there be both? She winced slightly and glanced away. “Just… don’t.” She brought her gaze back up and gave a short nod toward the bottle of alcohol in Rachel’s hand.

A hollow laugh echoed in the hallway as Rachel shook her head, grip on the bottle only tightening. She nearly sneered, “Don’t worry, Quinn. I don’t plan on assaulting you with unwanted advances tonight.” Or ever again for that matter.

Quinn’s face twisted slightly, anguish present for a moment before she let it fall away. “You didn’t,” she told her softly and let out a breath. She reached for the bottle, but she didn’t take it. “Just don’t… It doesn’t… He’s going into the Air Force and it’s not about…” She sighed and shook her head slightly. “Never mind,” she mumbled.

“That’s right. The threat of assault was your doing, wasn’t it? Something about breaking my teeth and my dads having to fix my face?” The words hurt to say. Rachel’s throat was burning and so were her eyes, but she couldn’t stop as she took one step backward, and then another away from Quinn. “Just stop. Stop acting like you care.”

“I didn’t, I couldn’t ever…” Like she could ever hit Rachel, never. No amount of anger could ever bring Quinn to hit her. She let her hand fall to her side. “But I do.” She lowered her voice more, even if Rachel was raising hers. “I do care.”

There it was again. Another empty laugh, because even if Rachel wanted to believe Quinn’s words, and she so desperately did, hadn’t Quinn’s actions throughout the remaining weeks of summer and over the past school year proved that she didn’t?

“At least give me the dignity of not lying to my face.” Another step back, another step toward the porch and the solace Rachel sought. “You don’t care.” The vegan meals and snacks so far this week notwithstanding. “You’ve demonstrated that much all year. Just leave me alone, which, you know, for you should be easy. You’ve had so much practice.”

Rachel’s words hurt, but Quinn realized there was no more she could say. Rachel wasn’t going to believe anything anyway. So she walked away. It’s what Rachel wanted and why fight her anymore. Besides, dinner was going to be ready and they were going to eat, and she really didn’t want to look shook up, even though she was feeling shitty and not so hungry anymore. Though, it didn’t matter because no one but Finn would probably notice nor care anyway. They haven’t all year so far. Quinn was starting to think about skipping more school lately. It made her life easier.

She had noticed Rachel had gone out without a coat or hat or anything, so Quinn stopped quickly to grab Rachel’s coat and placed it on the floor next to the door to the porch, but she didn’t dare go out. Then she checked on the food in the kitchen and made sure everything was set up and right on cue, Finn came in with the food, so she called everyone for dinner. She didn’t talk much, nor eat much, and she wanted to have a drink as well, but she would later, after dinner was through. Rachel didn’t come in to eat, but Quinn didn’t comment, nor look at her empty spot at the table. She reached for Finn’s thigh under the table and kept her hand there for a few minutes at the end of dinner, just to try to make herself feel better, to feel less alone.

Half expecting the porch door to open not long after she exited, Rachel’s spine remained rigid until 30 seconds, a minute, then two passed and she was still alone. Only then did she relax, slumping against the Adirondack chair she had spent so much of this week in already, and only then did she let the tears that had gathered and burned fall. Because hadn’t Quinn just proved what Rachel had been saying? That she didn’t care? She just walked away. She didn’t fight back. Because if Quinn cared like she claimed she did, she would have kept fighting. She would have persisted, just like Rachel had all throughout the summer. Calling and texting and showing up at the Fabray house and knocking on a door that was never answered. And then, when the school year began, going to Quinn’s locker, voicing a desperate plea. More texts and calls and fighting for the girl she loved and needed in her life one way or another. For weeks, for months Rachel tried everything she could, and here Quinn could barely muster the effort of a few minutes.

So, no, she didn’t care, and as Rachel cracked open the fifth of vodka, the first drag she pulled from the bottle and its welcome burn was in honor of just that. No longer caring. Each and every sip after was washed down with a dedication, too. The fact that just a year ago they were spending their spring break together, alone, and sharing a bed. There were gulps for the plans that they had, for moments now long gone and missed. For California. For having no one to tell about her college plans, that she didn’t know what Quinn was still planning, and that if everything wasn’t such a mess Rachel would have been the first person Quinn would have told the moment she accepted a promise ring. But they didn’t have that, because they didn’t have anything anymore, and Rachel tipped back the bottle, draining the last drops and bitterly toasting that all good things come to an end.

Even with a sweatshirt on and the pseudo-warming effects of alcohol, Rachel had to eventually bid the porch goodbye since spring on the coast of Lake Erie wasn’t balmy by any means. She couldn’t feel her nose, or the tips of her fingers, but she wasn’t sure if that was the chill in the air of the amount of vodka now pumping its way through her body. Having not really eaten a real meal since breakfast, the amount she had just drunk and in a relatively short amount of time had her stumbling, vision swimming, and she attempted to stand. Just like in the kitchen an hour before, Rachel had to reach out to steady her stance. She gripped along the porch railing until she was certain she could stay on her feet and make it back inside. Dinner seemed to have wrapped, but everyone was still in the same relative vicinity. Vision blurry, Rachel’s gaze eventually landed on Santana, which seemed appropriate. Of all the people here that could understand, even if she didn’t know all the ins and outs of Rachel’s own sadness, it was Santana. And because Rachel just wanted to feel something more, to feel something that wouldn’t reduce her to tears and sobs, without any pretense she walked right over to Santana, cupped her cheeks, and pulled her in for a lingering kiss.

Quinn kept glancing toward the porch as she helped to clean up dinner. She knew she didn’t really have to since they cooked tonight, but she needed to keep busy, so she moved about, helping to clear the table then wash up, but the entire time, her gaze kept going to the porch, where Rachel was, and she had been out there so long, she was probably freezing. But Quinn couldn’t go out there even if she wanted to. Not when she wanted to just wrap Rachel up in her arms and hold her like she used to. Back when everything seemed to be solely based on friendship. But it wasn’t like that anymore and Quinn couldn’t have any of these strange feelings for a girl.

When Rachel came back inside, Quinn noticed right away, even if no one else did right away. Rachel was drunk, for sure, Quinn could tell. Besides, it was pretty obvious just in the way she was walking. But then she was moving across the room, making a beeline for Santana, and she kissed her. Quinn thankfully wasn’t holding anything because she was sure she would have dropped it. Her legs felt numb all of a sudden and she gripped the island counter in front of her to stay standing. She couldn’t look away, she had to watch. Rachel was drunk. And Rachel kissed Santana, was kissing Santana. The feelings that bubbled up had her hands shaking. She was enraged and maybe jealous and had to get Rachel away from Santana. Because what if drunk Rachel wanted to sleep with Santana like she had slept with Quinn?

Though Quinn couldn’t feel herself moving (she felt like she was outside of her body at the moment), she was strutting across the floor and over to the couple? God, what if they were secretly a couple. But no… Santana was fucking Puck. She couldn’t also be with Rachel. Right? Once beside them, she stopped and her eyes never ventured over to Santana. “Rachel,” she said, the name coming out stern in tone.

When Rachel broke the kiss, she only focused on what she was feeling in that immediate moment. Her heart pounding, though not because she had any feelings for Santana, but rather just racing from the exhilaration of a first kiss alone. She was a bit lightheaded, and no matter how she blinked, Rachel’s vision wouldn’t completely clear. Not even when Quinn’s voice broke through the silence, and by this point in time Rachel didn’t care if her words slurred. “Mind your own business, Quinn.”

“I need to talk to you,” she told her and paused a moment before adding, “now.” And then she reached out and took Rachel by the upper arm and all but dragged her away from Santana.

She hoped with the alcohol in Rachel's system, it'd take her a moment to react and by that time, she could safely have her away from the others, just in case she would have a drunken outburst. Quinn didn't stop tugging her along until they were closed and locked in Rachel's room in the lakehouse.

Maybe Rachel was planning to go back in for a second kiss, to feel lips connected again, to share that momentary heat, to have hear heartbeat so loud that drowned out everything around her again, but Rachel didn’t have the chance. One minute she was attached to Santana and the next Quinn had attached to her, and in her current state -- drunker by each passing second -- any fight she had was no match for Quinn’s grip and determination. Her only option would have been to go for dead weight and just fall limp to the floor, but honestly Rachel didn’t have the energy for that. And she wasn’t a fucking toddler. She could drink if she wanted. She could kiss who wanted. Quinn wasn’t her dads.

“Are you sure you want to touch me, Quinn? Aren’t you afraid my queerness will rub off and taint you?” Rachel practically fell to a sitting position on the bed she had been using the past couple of days.

Now that Quinn had Rachel alone, she wasn't sure what to do. Lecture her or kiss her? But God, she was with Finn. She needed to get away from Rachel, yet she wanted to be at her side. Maybe she should let Rachel do what she wanted, make sure own mistakes. But Quinn couldn't let that happen. Rachel was too drunk and she might regret anything she did tonight once she was sober again tomorrow. Her eyes narrowed at the other girl and Quinn planted her hands on her hips. “We both know it doesn't work that way. What were you doing out there? Are you… do you like Santana?”

If Rachel had been more with it at the moment and able to parse Quinn’s words, she might have pointed out that if it didn’t work that way, then what did that say about their own coupling and Quinn’s willingness months ago? But Rachel was so beyond the ability to verbally repartee. She scrubbed her palms down her face, working feeling and warmth back into skin still prickling from the cold. “So what if I do?” Rachel didn’t like Santana, not that way, but Quinn didn’t need to know that. “We’ve already reestablished,” her words slurred, “that you don’t care.”

Rachel hadn’t answered the question directly and that made Quinn’s stomach twist into a knot. The answer she gave seemed to imply that she did, or that she might. It made Quinn want to go out there and tell Santana to leave. “I do care, Rachel. And I don’t want you drunk and making bad decisions tonight. Because I think kissing her was a bad decision. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“What you think stopped mattering the moment I became invisible to you!” Arm stretched out and pointing in accusation, Rachel tried to rise from the bed, but she only ended up falling right back into a sitting position. “I don’t care about your opinion.” That wasn’t true, because Rachel was stupid and in love and stupidly in love and she couldn’t help but care. The reason she was drunk right now, aside from her own decision to drink, was the fact that she cared.

“I have functioned on my own this entire year, and I don’t need you to do anything for me!” Tears mixed with Rachel’s words now, since again, what she was saying held no truth. Because the one person Rachel needed, had needed all year, was Quinn at her side. But she was sticking with her own lies, her own masks to fight back against Quinn’s hurtfulness and eventual rejection. “If I want to kiss a pretty, unattached girl, I will.” Just like she had kissed Quinn, which had Rachel almost wanting to ask why Quinn was so riled up. Was it because Rachel had kissed Santana and not her? But the thought alone of the way that question would likely be answered and the wave of rejection that would follow kept Rachel’s mouth pressed into a thin, annoyed line.

Rachel was so so drunk, she could hardly stand back up, which only reassured Quinn that she had made the right choice in getting Rachel out of that situation. “You don’t need me to do anything for you, but I’m still going to. I want to and you’re drunk and you can’t even stand, so I’m going to do what I think is best for you.” And selfishly, what was best for Quinn, which was keeping drunk Rachel away from Santana where she might continue to kiss the ‘pretty, unattached girl.’

Quinn began to pace then, back and forth, kept glancing at Rachel before letting her head drop as she watched her feet take their steps. “God damn it,” she muttered under her breath before she approached Rachel on the bed and closed the distance between them. She didn’t sit, but didn’t hover over her either. She stayed maybe a foot away, if that. “You were never invisible to me. Never. But I just… can’t, Rachel, I can’t, but I see you. All the time. I see you. Okay? Like… fuck…” She turned and moved back to her former spot, keeping her back to Rachel. She needed to breathe. She needed a moment.

Rachel hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since summer. Since she and Quinn slept together. She’d avoided weekend parties, having not attended football games or having a best friend to tag along with, and even at New Years when her dads toasted and offered her a glass, the smell alone made her stomach churn. And now Rachel was paying for having lost any minor tolerance she might have built junior year since watching Quinn -- well, Quinns, because Rachel was seeing two of her -- was making Rachel queasy. But maybe if there were two Quinns, one could be with Finn and one could just be with her. “I miss you.” It was barely audible, three words sighed more than said, as Rachel closed her eyes to two Quinns and feelings and nausea.

Quinn heard the words, the sigh, and the tension in her shoulders left as they relaxed and she relaxed because she missed Rachel too. It was stupid, to miss each other so much… yet still be apart. And that was her doing. Because there were feelings for Rachel and she couldn’t be gay or whatever. Because Quinn knew that wasn’t who she was and so the feelings for her friend had to go. Except they wouldn’t, so Quinn had to go instead. She turned and looked at the girl with her eyes now closed. She studied her then approached again. Quinn sat down gently beside Rachel and put her arms around her and pulled her close and kissed her head and spoke very softly, “I miss you, too.”

Rachel didn’t need to see what was happening to know exactly what Quinn was about to do. She could feel it, because being wrapped up in Quinn’s arms once again after all this time was like coming home. She slotted right into her place, her head coming to rest along the crook of Quinn’s shoulder and neck. And at feeling the kiss to her hair and hearing such important words echoed back? Rachel sobbed as her own arms lifted to wrap around Quinn, her fingers digging into the material of Quinn’s dress, clinging to this moment. Because even in her current state, Rachel was aware enough to know that this moment was fleeting. It didn’t fix anything between them, and in a few hours time Quinn would go back to acting like she didn’t care, and Rachel would go back to forcing herself into believing that fact because it hurt less.

Quinn held her and rocked her (very, very gently) and rubbed her back. She kept Rachel close because this was how it always should have been. It felt right and, for now, Quinn was going to ignore everything else. The trip away from Lima, the boyfriend, the ring, the fact that she was supposed to be keeping away from Rachel. She hadn't realized just how badly she needed this. When Rachel started crying, Quinn did too. She wished they could go back in time and redo everything. She'd do better, if she could do this all again. “I'm sorry,” she said, the words just loud enough to catch Rachel's ear. Her fingers gently ran through Rachel's hair.

Rachel’s mind had sort of transformed to slush, and Quinn’s words, her sorries, melted and disappeared as everything grew sluggish. With Quinn’s hand in her hair, Rachel’s breaths slows, and her closed eyes grew heavier. Still, she struggled to remain awake, fingers tightening, then relaxing, then tightening again as she tried to stay present in this moment. A moment of realness she likely wouldn’t remember come sunrise.

Quinn could tell from Rachel's breaths, just from holding her, that Rachel was getting tired. No surprise with all the alcohol she had. So Quinn continued to hold her, to stroke her hair and rub her back, and when she thought that Rachel might really fall asleep, she put her to bed. She took great care in getting Rachel changed into something else and then tucked her in. She made sure Rachel was on her side and shoved pillows behind her so she wouldn't roll onto her back. Then Quinn waited a moment, eyes on the other girl, before she climbed onto the bed and laid onto the row of pillows behind Rachel. Her arm slipped over her waist and she pressed her face into the nape of Rachel's neck and held her.

Since they’d been at the lake house, Rachel hadn’t been setting any kind of alarm. There was no reason (or animals) to get up early, and her natural clock still had her waking well before most of the rest of the house. But this morning when Rachel’s eyes finally cracked open, the light filling the bedroom was much brighter than it had been the previous four mornings. It only took a few more moments, a few scratchy blinks of her eyes and a failed attempt to swallow away the cotton-feeling of her mouth to bring back the haze of the previous evening.

Rachel groaned as she swung her legs into a sitting position and forced her body upright. Instinctively she reached out for the glass of water on the bedside table -- had she left that there? and the ibuprofen, too? -- and gulped it and the pills down in an effort to rid her mouth of its dryness. She remembered the kitchen, the promise ring, and thinking an entire fifth of vodka was a good idea. Then there was Santana and her soft lips, but anything beyond that grew as fuzzy as Rachel’s head felt. Ugh, and her teeth. She definitely had skipped her nightly routine, though looking down at her body, Rachel was surprised and impressed that she had managed to not only get into her pajamas, but that they were right-side out.

Standing on slightly wobbly legs and ignoring the dull throb of her head, Rachel picked up her robe she had left draped across the back of a chair and gingerly stepped across the hall and into the bathroom she had set up shop in for the week. She felt less hungover than she thought she should, and in a strange way oddly relaxed, but knew that a shower -- and thorough toothbrushing -- would do her some good before heading downstairs for more water, some food, and to find Santana and...explain.

After Rachel had for sure fallen asleep last night, Quinn couldn't bring herself to leave her. She had missed this so incredibly much so the minutes stretched and eventually almost three hours had passed. She had to go to bed herself, vacate herself from Rachel's room, and let everyone know they were both fine and still alive. So she disentangled herself from the other girl and plumped the pillows behind Rachel before finally stealing out of the room. She brought water and ibuprofen in and left them for Rachel in the morning. When Quinn joined the group, she didn't say much, only that Rachel had too much to drink but was finally asleep and then went to bed herself. She wasn't in the mood for company.

The next morning, Quinn slept in some before getting up and dressing. She had dry toast for breakfast because she still wasn't so hungry. She saw Rachel when she came downstairs and she watched for a brief moment before she looked away and focused on the toast that was kind of like eating cardboard. Her cheeks started to fill with color and she wondered if Rachel would say anything about what happened last night.

Even though a dull thud remained present along the front of her skull, Rachel was feeling about as refreshed as she could given her previous night’s activity. Once downstairs she opened the fridge intent on retrieving the bowl of fruit salad she had prepared the day they arrived and had been snacking on throughout the week, but a wrapped up and labelled plate for her caught her eyes. Putting two and two together, Rachel realized it was dinner from the night before, and when she eventually grabbed the larger container of fruit from the fridge and made her way over the kitchen island, Rachel looked up and out across the room until her eyes connected with Quinn’s.

Quinn continued to watch Rachel as she moved about the kitchen and she wondered how hungover she was, if at all. But she didn't get up and she didn't ask. Instead, she forced herself to swallow the mouthful and sipped on some water before she continued watching the other girl. It was only when Rachel looked up, looked at her, that she directed her gaze elsewhere. Her cheeks grew warm as they reddened even more. She stole another quick glance at Rachel.

Watching a flush take over Quinn’s cheeks, Rachel could only assume it was because of the ring. The fact that Quinn had tried to hide it, tried to justify it and everything else. So upon making her bowl of fruit, granola, and a couple dollops of dairy-free yogurt, Rachel headed toward her preferred spot on the porch to eat. But along the way she stopped where Quinn was sitting and softly said, “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” Because even though Quinn didn’t care, Rachel still did. She always would. And because of that, because of her love, she’d protect Quinn even if it meant hurting herself in the process.

Quinn tensed when Rachel spoke to her and she didn’t relax, even after Rachel had gone outside. She wanted the specifics, though. She wanted to discuss it all with Rachel, but knew that was a bad idea. But she did wonder what secret Rachel thought she was keeping. Did Rachel know Quinn loved her? Maybe more than just a friend? Did she understand that Quinn was caught between feelings she wanted to have and the ones that already existed? She looked out toward Rachel on the porch and watched her a brief moment before Quinn got up and threw the rest of her toast away then headed to the bedroom. She needed to be alone.

#faberry rp #qf #para qf #hs rewind #apr 3 #para34

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olivialuis · 5 years ago

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tyleroakley-obsessed · 5 years ago

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Today, the Memphis River Parks Partnership revealed an updated plan for the redesign of Tom Lee Park. It was broadcast live in the Daily Memphian website and YouTube. You can watch the full presentation, which is still live right now, here. Here are the bullet points, Memphis In May info, and some images: Special thanks to the Daily Memphian for hosting a Q&A with Carol Coletta (President and CEO of Memphis River Parks Partnership) and Kate Orff (principal of SCAPE), and Fast Facts and Memphis in May Info The new plan meets the requirements set forth by the mediation between MRPP, Memphis in May, and the Army Corp of engineers including open space requirements for events. Memphis In May will still happen in Tom Lee Park this fall (if everything goes as planned re: pandemic) and in May 2021. Memphis In May is supposed be out of the park for one year only: 2022. The space for BBQ team tents and stages for BSMF meet the requirements from the mediation. The project will cost a total of $60 million. Sources of funding: Tourism Development Zone money, Shelby County, State of Tennessee, and private funding. New Design Fast Facts + Observations Vast and expansive grassy open spaces Riverside Drive will remain as it is There are the same number of parking spaces as today, but are spread out along the length of the park, including on both sides of Riverside Drive Spaces for playgrounds, picnics, and a sand bar beach Has some shade but preserves views of the river Accessible ramp built down from the bluff A “civic water feature” and shady grove near Beale Street Landing A canopy in the Heart of the Park A “very high above the river” platform on the South End Today: After renovation: Today: After renovation: Today: After renovation: This new plan comes after some, um, consternation from some locals after the first plan was announced last spring. Mostly, supporters of Memphis In May were concerned the new plan wouldn’t leave adequate room for Beale Street Music Festival and the World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest. According to the Daily Memphian, the mayor mandated that the Memphis River Parks Partnership work with Memphis in May and the Army Corps of Engineers to come to an agreement on the new design. Memphians are in their FEELINGS about this. I may regret asking this, but—what are yours? Let me know in the comments, but keep it civil. Are you a home owner in Memphis, with a broken garage door? Call ASAP garage door today at 901-461-0385 or checkout https://ift.tt/1B5z3Pc

https://ilovememphisblog.com/2020/05/new-tom-lee-park-plan-revealed/

#I Love Memphis

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sentrygaragedoors · 4 months ago

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Sentry Garage Doors - Roller Doors Laverton

Sentry Garage Doors is your trusted expert for roller doors in Laverton. We offer comprehensive services, including installation, maintenance, and repairs, ensuring your roller doors operate smoothly and securely.

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bensgaragedoor894-blog · 5 years ago

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Garage Doors That Pose Dangers

One functional part in your house is the garage. Some prefer an older style tilt-up garage door, while most homeowners today prefer a roll-up garage door. In the garage you place your car, your child's bicycles, and your repair tools. Around the house, a lot of accidents may happen. It is possible to burn your hand while cooking in the stove, break your leg while falling down the stairs, or accidentally knock your head under the dining table while reaching for that fork you dropped. There is danger everywhere, and your garage is not an exception. Do you have an automatic garage door? If its garage door opener is non-reversing, your family may be in trouble. Hundreds of years ago, garage doors were made of wood. Then from the old barn door-style, garage doors developed into steel doors and doors made of synthetic materials for better insulation and durability. Basically, a garage door may weigh hundreds of pounds. True, it isn't a good idea if your child, or even you, get trapped under a garage door. So certain precautions are needed in order to ensure your family's safety. If you have an automatic garage door that does not automatically reverse, you should replace it with a new opener that can do reverse. Reports received by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) states that approximately 60 children between the ages of 2 and 14 have been trapped and killed under automatic garage doors since 1982. Other reports show that other children had severe injuries when the closing of garage doors almost crushed them. That is why non-reversing garage door openers should be replaced at once. Or, you may opt for a new residential garage door installation if you want a new door with a reverse garage door opener. Don't be satisfied with garage doors that only stop whenever it hits an object under it. You should be pining for the reversing one. Check your garage door for signs of malfunction and failure. Replace parts that needed to be replaced. To do that, you have to make sure that your door is balanced. It should stay in place when stopped in any partially opened position. If your garage door is unbalanced, it may just crash whenever somebody is under it or not. Never allow your child to be near the area of the garage when a door check-up is going on. In many reported instances, even professional garage door technicians have suffered serious injuries like broken bones in the process of replacing garage door springs. The tension spring and torsion springs are hard to replace because of the great force imposed by the weight of the garage door. That is why it is very important not to do it on your own or by a family member who is not also qualified to change or replace garage door parts. So never ever think that you can do garage door repair by yourself.

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localfreshies · 7 years ago

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New Post has been published on Local Freshies | Be a local wherever you go

New Post has been published on https://localfreshies.com/day-3-steep-n-deep-in-the-pomerelle-backcountry/

Day 3: Steep 'n Deep in the Pomerelle Backcountry

The first half of the day at Pomerelle was amazing. We were grateful for the soft snow and playful terrain around the resort. But, the million-dollar question of the day was “Would we be able to get into the backcountry?” Throughout the morning, the snow and clouds came in waves making visibility challenging. If the freezing fog didn’t dissipate soon, we would have to call off the mission. Then, the moment we had hoped for happened. It was go time to check out the Pomerelle backcountry!

The Pomerelle Backcountry Awaits

Snowmobilers deep in the Pomerelle Backcountry

As we lounged lazily over lunch nursing our Sockeye beers, we suddenly looked over to the main door and saw it swing open. It’s Zack! With a big smile on his face he looked over to us and said, “You ready?” He told us to grab our backcountry gear from the truck and meet him at the maintenance garage.

Plan run-down and Beacon Check

Scurrying over to our rendezvous point, Zack introduced us to Jared Pratt, another local. The plan is to head over to the zone just past what they call the “Playground” which is more protected from the wind and generally lower avalanche danger. From there, we would take a look and determine if the snow conditions were ideal.

Realization of why they call it the Playground

Zack gettin’ after it!

Hopping onto the back of two snowmobiles, we zip out of the parking lot and make a left onto the trail head. The trail slowly ascended and the trees began to thin out until we were above them. As we made a sweeping turn, Zack pointed to the left and remarked, “That’s the Playground!” My mouth drops. I immediately understand why they call it that. The terrain looks like something you would see at a Kirkwood or Squaw Valley resort. It was filled with massive cliffs, pillows, and chutes all for the taking if you have a way to get out there. Unfortunately with fresh snow, this terrain was a no-go on safety, so we continued on our way to our planned final destination.

The Snow Is Good & So Are We

Jared getting the snowmobiles ready after confirming the snow was good – Image taken by: Local Freshies

Taking switchback after switchback, we continue our ascent until we suddenly come to a halt. How the heck did he know where to stop? Answering my internal question, Zack pointed to a broken tree and said, “That’s how we know where to stop.” Stepping off our steeds, we get onto the snow and take a gander. The snow is soft and you can tell it has consolidated well. We all agree cautiously that we’re good to go.

Watch Out For That Cliff!

Cliff band to the right we had to avoid – Image by: Local Freshies

Jared hops back onto one of the snowmobiles and races down the trail to pick us up at the bottom. With only the sound of ratcheting bindings, we stand up and look toward Zack. “Alrighty folks. Whatever you do, follow my tracks to get in. To the left is a cliff that you do NOT want to go over.” Zack drops in first and veers slightly right making sweeping turns. Jaime and I drop in next, timidly but excited. The snow is perfect! After months of hard-pack conditions in Lake Tahoe, the feel of bottomless powder is like a glass of cold water in the Sahara. A dozen or so turns later we meet up again with Zack standing at the top of a massive glade. He points through the trees straight down to Jared. Standing at the bottom of a big, white meadow he waves towards us. That’s our mark… it’s go time!

Powder Shots Galore – Best Run Of The Season!

Steep n Deep in the Pomerelle Backcountry

Turning his head back towards us, Zack pulls down his neck gaiter and says, “We’re far enough away from the cliff so… let ‘er rip!” Not hesitating, I drop in. Taking huge massive arcs through the trees, the snow is amazing. Turns come easily as cold smoke pow billows around me. Turn after turn of the softest & deepest snow I’ve seen in months, I open my mouth and yell at the top of my lungs, “YEEEEWWWW!!!!!!!” Flying down the pitch onto the flat meadow, I show up to Jared slapping high fives. Unstrapping, I quickly look back up to see Jaime and Zack get after it. I then hear Jaime’s yells echo off the terrain “WAHHHOOOO!!!!!!” as she makes her way down the slope.

Rinse And Repeat

“Wanna go again?” Is that a question or statement? Of course, we do! We take run after run after run with Jared and Zack switching on who would shuttle. As the sun begins to set, we know it’s almost time to head back. Taking a moment at the bottom, we slowly look around. This HUGE bowl really is the perfect place for people to learn terrain options and backcountry skills.

Catskiing at Pomerelle

Zack pointing out our next line while Jared makes a gourmet lunch of fajitas

We come to find out from Zack that the original plan was to create a Pomerelle catskiing outfit, shuttling people out here to enjoy the terrain. Nearly all the permits were good to go. Unfortunately, the person who did all this hard work passed away and so they were back to square one. Will it happen? Possibly, but only time will tell.

We Need A Miracle…

With our muscles sore and the sun continuing to set, we knew it was time to leave. Giving our goodbyes and thanking them for an incredible time, we made our way back down the mountain road and headed towards our next destination – The Miracle Hot Springs. There’s nothing like a good soak to get the mind and muscles right after a hard day on the slopes.

Another Hidden Gem – Miracle Hot Springs

Nothing like a good soak at night – Image by: Local Freshies

Out of the Albion Mountain Range and back onto the plains, we continue past Twin Falls on Interstate 84 until we exit at Hagerman Avenue. Flying past dairy farms and grasslands, we wonder if we’re going in the right direction. Finally a sign appears beckoning us to make a left. Score! Tucked away in a tight canyon, the hot springs compound is another hidden treasure in Magic Valley.

An Opening We’re In Luck!

Steam from the hot springs on a winter’s day – Image by: Local Freshies

Talking to the front desk, they tell us they have an opening for a couple’s massage. Was it luck or destiny? Looking at each other, we have the same thought. You only live once right? Sure! With our reservations made, we make our way over to the main pool and hop in. Soaking in the hot springs, we let our minds begin to wander and absorb the past few days. Like everything we’ve experienced in Magic Valley, you can’t judge a book by its cover but instead must explore with an open-mind. Talk about an exciting escapade! Just like our other adventures, the couple’s massage isn’t like what I thought it would be. It was a great way to introduce myself to a relaxing massage in a way that is comfortable and reassuring for both.

Twin Falls Sandwich Company

After a carefree soak, a rejuvenating massage and a long day of shredding, our stomachs were grumbling and we knew where we had to go next: Twin Falls Sandwich Company. Owned by Shane Cook, an avid kayaker and great ambassador for the Snake River region, we had to make sure we checked out his restaurant… and we weren’t disappointed.

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vertical-align: middle; text-align: center; #bwg_container1_1 #bwg_container2_1 #spider_popup_overlay_1 background-color: #000000; opacity: 0.70; filter: Alpha(opacity=70); var data_1 = []; var event_stack_1 = []; data_1["0"] = []; data_1["0"]["id"] = "98"; data_1["0"]["alt"] = "Twin Falls Sandwich Company"; data_1["0"]["description"] = ""; data_1["0"]["filetype"] = "jpg"; data_1["0"]["filename"] = "P1270102_Sandwich2"; data_1["0"]["image_url"] = "/imported_from_media_libray//P1270102_Sandwich2.jpg"; data_1["0"]["thumb_url"] = "/imported_from_media_libray//thumb/P1270102_Sandwich2.jpg"; data_1["0"]["date"] = "27 February 2018, 06:33"; data_1["0"]["is_embed"] = ""; data_1["0"]["is_embed_video"] = ""; data_1["1"] = []; data_1["1"]["id"] = "100"; data_1["1"]["alt"] = "Vintage Bike Twin Falls Sandwich Company"; data_1["1"]["description"] = ""; data_1["1"]["filetype"] = "jpg"; data_1["1"]["filename"] = "P1270110_Sandwich5"; data_1["1"]["image_url"] = "/imported_from_media_libray//P1270110_Sandwich5.jpg"; data_1["1"]["thumb_url"] = "/imported_from_media_libray//thumb/P1270110_Sandwich5.jpg"; data_1["1"]["date"] = "27 February 2018, 06:34"; data_1["1"]["is_embed"] = ""; data_1["1"]["is_embed_video"] = ""; data_1["2"] = []; data_1["2"]["id"] = "99"; data_1["2"]["alt"] = "Twin Falls Sandwich Company"; data_1["2"]["description"] = ""; data_1["2"]["filetype"] = "jpg"; data_1["2"]["filename"] = "P1270108_Sandwich4"; data_1["2"]["image_url"] = "/imported_from_media_libray//P1270108_Sandwich4.jpg"; data_1["2"]["thumb_url"] = "/imported_from_media_libray//thumb/P1270108_Sandwich4.jpg"; data_1["2"]["date"] = "27 February 2018, 06:34"; data_1["2"]["is_embed"] = ""; data_1["2"]["is_embed_video"] = "";

var bwg_trans_in_progress_1 = false; var bwg_transition_duration_1 = 750; var bwg_playInterval_1; /* Stop autoplay.*/ window.clearInterval(bwg_playInterval_1); /* Set watermark container size.*/ function bwg_change_watermark_container_1() jQuery(".bwg_slider_1").children().each(function() if (jQuery(this).css("zIndex") == 2) /* For images.*/ var bwg_current_image_span = jQuery(this).find("img"); if (bwg_current_image_span.length) if (bwg_current_image_span.prop('complete')) var width = bwg_current_image_span.width(); var height = bwg_current_image_span.height(); bwg_change_each_watermark_container_1(width, height); else bwg_current_image_span.on("load", function () var width = bwg_current_image_span.width(); var height = bwg_current_image_span.height(); bwg_change_each_watermark_container_1(width, height); ); else /* For embeds and videos.*/ bwg_current_image_span = jQuery(this).find("iframe"); if (!bwg_current_image_span.length) bwg_current_image_span = jQuery(this).find("video"); var width = bwg_current_image_span.width(); var height = bwg_current_image_span.height(); bwg_change_each_watermark_container_1(width, height); ); /* Set each watermark container size.*/ function bwg_change_each_watermark_container_1(width, height) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_watermark_spun_1").width(width); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_watermark_spun_1").height(height); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_title_spun_1").width(width); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_title_spun_1").height(height); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_description_spun_1").width(width); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_description_spun_1").height(height); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_watermark_1").css(display: ''); if (jQuery.trim(jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_title_text_1").text())) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_title_text_1").css(display: ''); if (jQuery.trim(jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_description_text_1").text())) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_description_text_1").css(display: ''); var bwg_current_key_1 = '0'; var bwg_current_filmstrip_pos_1 = 0; /* Set filmstrip initial position.*/ function bwg_set_filmstrip_pos_1(filmStripWidth) var selectedImagePos = -bwg_current_filmstrip_pos_1 - (jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnail_1").width() + 2) / 2; var imagesContainerLeft = Math.min(0, Math.max(filmStripWidth - jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").width(), selectedImagePos + filmStripWidth / 2)); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").animate( left: imagesContainerLeft , duration: 500, complete: function () bwg_filmstrip_arrows_1(); ); function bwg_move_filmstrip_1() var image_left = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").position().left; var image_right = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").position().left + jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").outerWidth(true); var bwg_filmstrip_width = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_1").outerWidth(true); var bwg_filmstrip_thumbnails_width = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").outerWidth(true); var long_filmstrip_cont_left = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").position().left; var long_filmstrip_cont_right = Math.abs(jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").position().left) + bwg_filmstrip_width; if (bwg_filmstrip_width > bwg_filmstrip_thumbnails_width) return; if (image_left < Math.abs(long_filmstrip_cont_left)) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").animate( left: -image_left , duration: 500, complete: function () bwg_filmstrip_arrows_1(); ); else if (image_right > long_filmstrip_cont_right) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").animate( left: -(image_right - bwg_filmstrip_width) , duration: 500, complete: function () bwg_filmstrip_arrows_1(); ); function bwg_move_dots_1() var image_left = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").position().left; var image_right = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").position().left + jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").outerWidth(true); var bwg_dots_width = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_container_1").outerWidth(true); var bwg_dots_thumbnails_width = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_thumbnails_1").outerWidth(false); var long_filmstrip_cont_left = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_thumbnails_1").position().left; var long_filmstrip_cont_right = Math.abs(jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_thumbnails_1").position().left) + bwg_dots_width; if (bwg_dots_width > bwg_dots_thumbnails_width) return; if (image_left < Math.abs(long_filmstrip_cont_left)) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_thumbnails_1").animate( left: -image_left , duration: 500, complete: function () ); else if (image_right > long_filmstrip_cont_right) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_thumbnails_1").animate( left: -(image_right - bwg_dots_width) , duration: 500, complete: function () ); /* Show/hide filmstrip arrows.*/ function bwg_filmstrip_arrows_1() if (jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnails_1").width() < jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_1").width()) jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_left_1").hide(); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_right_1").hide(); else jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_left_1").show(); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_right_1").show(); function bwg_testBrowser_cssTransitions_1() return bwg_testDom_1('Transition'); function bwg_testBrowser_cssTransforms3d_1() return bwg_testDom_1('Perspective'); function bwg_testDom_1(prop) /* Browser vendor CSS prefixes.*/ var browserVendors = ['', '-webkit-', '-moz-', '-ms-', '-o-', '-khtml-']; /* Browser vendor DOM prefixes.*/ var domPrefixes = ['', 'Webkit', 'Moz', 'ms', 'O', 'Khtml']; var i = domPrefixes.length; while (i--) if (typeof document.body.style[domPrefixes[i] + prop] !== 'undefined') return true; return false; function bwg_cube_1(tz, ntx, nty, nrx, nry, wrx, wry, current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) /* If browser does not support 3d transforms/CSS transitions.*/ if (!bwg_testBrowser_cssTransitions_1()) return bwg_fallback_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); if (!bwg_testBrowser_cssTransforms3d_1()) return bwg_fallback3d_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); bwg_trans_in_progress_1 = true; /* Set active thumbnail.*/ jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnail_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_filmstrip_thumbnail_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1"); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_dots_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1"); jQuery(".bwg_slide_bg_1").css('perspective', 1000); jQuery(current_image_class).css( transform : 'translateZ(' + tz + 'px)', backfaceVisibility : 'hidden' ); jQuery(next_image_class).css( opacity : 1, filter: 'Alpha(opacity=100)', zIndex: 2, backfaceVisibility : 'hidden', transform : 'translateY(' + nty + 'px) translateX(' + ntx + 'px) rotateY('+ nry +'deg) rotateX('+ nrx +'deg)' ); jQuery(".bwg_slider_1").css( transform: 'translateZ(-' + tz + 'px)', transformStyle: 'preserve-3d' ); /* Execution steps.*/ setTimeout(function () jQuery(".bwg_slider_1").css( transition: 'all ' + bwg_transition_duration_1 + 'ms ease-in-out', transform: 'translateZ(-' + tz + 'px) rotateX('+ wrx +'deg) rotateY('+ wry +'deg)' ); , 20); /* After transition.*/ jQuery(".bwg_slider_1").one('webkitTransitionEnd transitionend otransitionend oTransitionEnd mstransitionend', jQuery.proxy(bwg_after_trans)); function bwg_after_trans() /*if (bwg_from_focus_1) bwg_from_focus_1 = false; return; */ jQuery(current_image_class).removeAttr('style'); jQuery(next_image_class).removeAttr('style'); jQuery(".bwg_slider_1").removeAttr('style'); jQuery(current_image_class).css('opacity' : 0, filter: 'Alpha(opacity=0)', 'z-index': 1); jQuery(next_image_class).css('opacity' : 1, filter: 'Alpha(opacity=100)', 'z-index' : 2); bwg_change_watermark_container_1(); bwg_trans_in_progress_1 = false; if (typeof event_stack_1 !== 'undefined') if (event_stack_1.length > 0) key = event_stack_1[0].split("-"); event_stack_1.shift(); bwg_change_image_1(key[0], key[1], data_1, true); function bwg_cubeH_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) /* Set to half of image width.*/ var dimension = jQuery(current_image_class).width() / 2; if (direction == 'right') bwg_cube_1(dimension, dimension, 0, 0, 90, 0, -90, current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); else if (direction == 'left') bwg_cube_1(dimension, -dimension, 0, 0, -90, 0, 90, current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); /* For browsers that does not support transitions.*/ function bwg_fallback_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) bwg_fade_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); /* For browsers that support transitions, but not 3d transforms (only used if primary transition makes use of 3d-transforms).*/ function bwg_fallback3d_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) bwg_sliceV_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); function bwg_none_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) jQuery(current_image_class).css('opacity' : 0, 'z-index': 1); jQuery(next_image_class).css('opacity' : 1, 'z-index' : 2); bwg_change_watermark_container_1(); /* Set active thumbnail.*/ jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnail_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_filmstrip_thumbnail_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1"); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_dots_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1"); function bwg_fade_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) /* Set active thumbnail.*/ jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnail_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_filmstrip_thumbnail_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1"); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_dots_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1"); if (bwg_testBrowser_cssTransitions_1()) jQuery(next_image_class).css('transition', 'opacity ' + bwg_transition_duration_1 + 'ms linear'); jQuery(current_image_class).css('opacity' : 0, 'z-index': 1); jQuery(next_image_class).css('opacity' : 1, 'z-index' : 2); bwg_change_watermark_container_1(); else jQuery(current_image_class).animate('opacity' : 0, 'z-index' : 1, bwg_transition_duration_1); jQuery(next_image_class).animate( 'opacity' : 1, 'z-index': 2 , duration: bwg_transition_duration_1, complete: function () bwg_change_watermark_container_1(); ); /* For IE.*/ jQuery(current_image_class).fadeTo(bwg_transition_duration_1, 0); jQuery(next_image_class).fadeTo(bwg_transition_duration_1, 1); function bwg_grid_1(cols, rows, ro, tx, ty, sc, op, current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) /* If browser does not support CSS transitions.*/ if (!bwg_testBrowser_cssTransitions_1()) return bwg_fallback_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); bwg_trans_in_progress_1 = true; /* Set active thumbnail.*/ jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnail_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_filmstrip_thumbnail_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1"); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1"); jQuery("#bwg_dots_" + bwg_current_key_1 + "_1").removeClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_deactive_1").addClass("bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1"); /* The time (in ms) added to/subtracted from the delay total for each new gridlet.*/ var count = (bwg_transition_duration_1) / (cols + rows); /* Gridlet creator (divisions of the image grid, positioned with background-images to replicate the look of an entire slide image when assembled)*/ function bwg_gridlet(width, height, top, img_top, left, img_left, src, imgWidth, imgHeight, c, r) var delay = (c + r) * count; /* Return a gridlet elem with styles for specific transition.*/ return jQuery('').css( display : "block", width : width, height : height, top : top, left : left, backgroundImage : 'url("' + src + '")', backgroundColor: jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_image_wrap_1").css("background-color"), /*backgroundColor: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0),*/ backgroundRepeat: 'no-repeat', backgroundPosition : img_left + 'px ' + img_top + 'px', backgroundSize : imgWidth + 'px ' + imgHeight + 'px', transition : 'all ' + bwg_transition_duration_1 + 'ms ease-in-out ' + delay + 'ms', transform : 'none' ); /* Get the current slide's image.*/ var cur_img = jQuery(current_image_class).find('img'); /* Create a grid to hold the gridlets.*/ var grid = jQuery('').addClass('bwg_grid_1'); /* Prepend the grid to the next slide (i.e. so it's above the slide image).*/ jQuery(current_image_class).prepend(grid); /* vars to calculate positioning/size of gridlets*/ var cont = jQuery(".bwg_slide_bg_1"); var imgWidth = cur_img.width(); var imgHeight = cur_img.height(); var contWidth = cont.width(), contHeight = cont.height(), imgSrc = cur_img.attr('src'),/*.replace('/thumb', ''),*/ colWidth = Math.floor(contWidth / cols), rowHeight = Math.floor(contHeight / rows), colRemainder = contWidth - (cols * colWidth), colAdd = Math.ceil(colRemainder / cols), rowRemainder = contHeight - (rows * rowHeight), rowAdd = Math.ceil(rowRemainder / rows), leftDist = 0, img_leftDist = (jQuery(".bwg_slide_bg_1").width() - cur_img.width()) / 2; /* tx/ty args can be passed as 'auto'/'min-auto' (meaning use slide width/height or negative slide width/height).*/ tx = tx === 'auto' ? contWidth : tx; tx = tx === 'min-auto' ? - contWidth : tx; ty = ty === 'auto' ? contHeight : ty; ty = ty === 'min-auto' ? - contHeight : ty; /* Loop through cols*/ for (var i = 0; i < cols; i++) var topDist = 0, img_topDst = (jQuery(".bwg_slide_bg_1").height() - cur_img.height()) / 2, newColWidth = colWidth; /* If imgWidth (px) does not divide cleanly into the specified number of cols, adjust individual col widths to create correct total.*/ if (colRemainder > 0) var add = colRemainder >= colAdd ? colAdd : colRemainder; newColWidth += add; colRemainder -= add; /* Nested loop to create row gridlets for each col.*/ for (var j = 0; j < rows; j++) var newRowHeight = rowHeight, newRowRemainder = rowRemainder; /* If contHeight (px) does not divide cleanly into the specified number of rows, adjust individual row heights to create correct total.*/ if (newRowRemainder > 0) add = newRowRemainder >= rowAdd ? rowAdd : rowRemainder; newRowHeight += add; newRowRemainder -= add; /* Create & append gridlet to grid.*/ grid.append(bwg_gridlet(newColWidth, newRowHeight, topDist, img_topDst, leftDist, img_leftDist, imgSrc, imgWidth, imgHeight, i, j)); topDist += newRowHeight; img_topDst -= newRowHeight; img_leftDist -= newColWidth; leftDist += newColWidth; /* Set event listener on last gridlet to finish transitioning.*/ var last_gridlet = grid.children().last(); /* Show grid & hide the image it replaces.*/ grid.show(); cur_img.css('opacity', 0); /* Add identifying classes to corner gridlets (useful if applying border radius).*/ grid.children().first().addClass('rs-top-left'); grid.children().last().addClass('rs-bottom-right'); grid.children().eq(rows - 1).addClass('rs-bottom-left'); grid.children().eq(- rows).addClass('rs-top-right'); /* Execution steps.*/ setTimeout(function () grid.children().css( opacity: op, transform: 'rotate('+ ro +'deg) translateX('+ tx +'px) translateY('+ ty +'px) scale('+ sc +')' ); , 1); jQuery(next_image_class).css('opacity', 1); /* After transition.*/ jQuery(last_gridlet).one('webkitTransitionEnd transitionend otransitionend oTransitionEnd mstransitionend', jQuery.proxy(bwg_after_trans)); function bwg_after_trans() /*if (bwg_from_focus_1) bwg_from_focus_1 = false; return; */ jQuery(current_image_class).css('opacity' : 0, 'z-index': 1); jQuery(next_image_class).css('opacity' : 1, 'z-index' : 2); cur_img.css('opacity', 1); bwg_change_watermark_container_1(); grid.remove(); bwg_trans_in_progress_1 = false; if (typeof event_stack_1 !== 'undefined') if (event_stack_1.length > 0) key = event_stack_1[0].split("-"); event_stack_1.shift(); bwg_change_image_1(key[0], key[1], data_1, true); function bwg_sliceV_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) if (direction == 'right') var translateY = 'min-auto'; else if (direction == 'left') var translateY = 'auto'; bwg_grid_1(10, 1, 0, 0, translateY, 1, 0, current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); function bwg_scaleOut_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) bwg_grid_1(1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1.5, 0, current_image_class, next_image_class, direction); function bwg_blindH_1(current_image_class, next_image_class, direction) bwg_grid_1(10, 1, 0, 0, 0, .7, 0, current_image_class, next_image_class); function bwg_iterator_1() var iterator = 1; if (0) iterator = Math.floor((data_1.length - 1) * Math.random() + 1); return iterator; function bwg_change_image_1(current_key, key, data_1, from_effect) /* Pause videos.*/ jQuery("#bwg_slideshow_image_container_1").find("iframe").each(function () jQuery(this)[0].contentWindow.postMessage('"event":"command","func":"pauseVideo","args":""', '*'); jQuery(this)[0].contentWindow.postMessage(' "method": "pause" ', "*"); jQuery(this)[0].contentWindow.postMessage('pause', '*'); ); if (data_1[key]) if (jQuery('.bwg_ctrl_btn_1').hasClass('fa-pause')) bwg_play_1(); if (!from_effect) /* Change image key.*/ jQuery("#bwg_current_image_key_1").val(key); if (current_key == '-1') /* Filmstrip.*/ current_key = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_thumb_active_1").children("img").attr("image_key"); else if (current_key == '-2') /* Dots.*/ current_key = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_dots_active_1").attr("image_key"); if (bwg_trans_in_progress_1) event_stack_1.push(current_key + '-' + key); return; var direction = 'right'; if (bwg_current_key_1 > key) var direction = 'left'; else if (bwg_current_key_1 == key) return; jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_watermark_1").css(display: 'none'); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_title_text_1").css(display: 'none'); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_description_text_1").css(display: 'none'); /* Set active thumbnail position.*/ bwg_current_filmstrip_pos_1 = key * (jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_filmstrip_thumbnail_1").width() + 2 + 2 * 1); bwg_current_key_1 = key; /* Change image id, title, description.*/ jQuery("#bwg_slideshow_image_1").attr('image_id', data_1[key]["id"]); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_title_text_1").html(jQuery('').html(data_1[key]["alt"]).text()); jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_description_text_1").html(jQuery('').html(data_1[key]["description"]).text()); /*var current_image_class = "#image_id_1_" + data_1[current_key]["id"]; var next_image_class = "#image_id_1_" + data_1[key]["id"];*/ var current_image_class = jQuery(".bwg_slideshow_image_spun_1").css("zIndex") == 2 ? ".bwg_slideshow_image_spun_1" : ".bwg_slideshow_image_second_spun_1"; var next_image_class = current_image_class == ".bwg_slideshow_image_second_spun_1" ? 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With local brews on tap, tasty sandwiches and an awesome interior, we understood why so many in the city consider this place the “anchor” of the downtown revitalization. You can’t go wrong with anything on the menu but one of our favorites was the C. Alan named after one of his friends. A slight twist on the Reuben, the sauce is sweet & tangy which goes well with the homemade pastrami served on a warm crispy marble rye.

After a few days around Twin Falls, it was time to head east… Pocatello is up next and the fabled Pebble Creek Ski Area.

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incoherentham · 8 years ago

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Updates

I have a deck of flashcards where I put all of the factoids or bits of advice I’ve changed my mind about. This is my summary of those cards.

Lifehack: use velcro strips to keep common items where you want them

velcro is so tacky, I am never actually going to recommend this to anyone.

Lifehack: If you don't want to forget whether you've done something, like turn off the stove or close the garage door, do something unusual while you're doing it.

giving yourself extra associations indeed helps you remember things, but this issue is better tackled by other means than memory tricks such as checklists or strengthening the habit.

Lifehack: Microwave leftovers evenly by spreading your food in a doughnut shape

I have yet to encounter evidence that this actually helps, and recall it being debunked somewhere. Judging from the cooking patterns of potatoes, I have a hunch that what really matters is the thickness of food, not its location on the plate. If placement ever helps at all I bet it's dependent on the make of the microwave.

State a goal so it's most achievable by stating it in terms of measurable behaviors

My rationality senses are tingling. This feels like technically correct advice, which when followed in practicality will lead to going through motions vaguely related to the goal or listing out the specific things I can flog myself for failing at. It can be a useful push but could be harmful for me or people sufficiently like me.

Vim (on mac): you can't copy a portion of a line to the clipboard.

:'<,'>w !pbcopy acts as if you selected with Visual Line by default, it's quite annoying. My partner Lauren found a workaround that lets you do partial-line selects. I haven't put it into my vimrc, but I am so very happy to know that there's a way.

When I say I want to "persuade" people, I mean "bend the likelihood that someone does a thing, in a way they perceive as their own will"

This was a strict improvement on my previous mental framing around persuasion, which was not the sort of persuasion one wants to employ on people one likes, so I didn't do much changing of minds. This new definition pushed me to pause and explore the interaction between how people perceive my behaviors/actions and what actually causes their own behaviors. It's an alright framework for assessing persuasion tricks or attempts, but it's not the right mindset to actually attempt persuasion in.

Persuasive levers acronym: CAGED: Comfort, Acceptance, Greed, Ego, Drama

Based loosely off 'How to win friends'. Never actually used them. They're too abstract to build a strategy quickly off of, and the acronym is creepy.

Formatting SRS knowledge:

"use simpler models; you can always build on them later on": This is so vague it's useless

"Flashcard answers should be as short as possible?": I think people using SRS for complex or diverse topics stand a real risk of making cards lexically short instead of conceptually basic. Terseness is a good practice proxy for simplicity, but in the long run it's not the same thing.

"You should eliminate interference as soon as you spot it": No. I think you should keep it in there until you actually resolve the question of which is the correct answer

When you have next action, set up a trigger for it

This led to massive proliferation of terrible and often contradictory next actions. There needs to be an evaluation step in there.

If planning time permits, loop on contingency planning

I never progress from tweaking my plans to actually implementing them when I loop on contingency planning, and usually work myself into paranoia/defeatism besides. This needs more specific instructions to avoid the failure mode.

Contingency planning should be rapid and intense.

I disagree that it should be rapid and intense; I think it should be smooth. If you work yourself in a hurry or panic you are doing yourself a great disservice. See above.

You can use the subject's blog or twitter to help track down the context of an interview quote.

I tried this a couple times and couldn't find anything useful. It's potentially more useful for people who read news daily instead of catching up on it months later.

Rule 240: if your flight is cancelled or delayed, the airline has to offer you any available seat on the next flight out on any carrier.

That rule is way out of date. Similarish promises called "conditions of carriage" vary by airline and generally only apply if it's absolutely the airline's fault.

Having a narrow vision of possibilities in a social scene makes acting on opportunities difficult.

I was trying to make enough sense of social anxiety to do something about it. Social anxiety creates stress, which creates tunnel vision and reactive reasoning, which makes me even worse at solving on-the-spot social problems. This idea was not concrete enough to help me recognize and make sense of what was happening in the moment. On the occasions I did remember, it left me nothing to do about my anxiety except feel more anxious because I was probably missing opportunities.

I just said something. I should expect I'll need to repeat myself

I speak quietly. Expecting to need to repeat myself grates at something in me, and I'd rather solve this problem by learning to speak more loudly.

When I feel flicker of uncertainty about social event, insist on my ground rules: Clear plan for how I'll get back, when, what the price range is and who's paying it. Because people breaking your boundaries hurts you more than any potential benefit.

True but not easily implementable. I don't know how to actually get words out in some timely way, and it's too easy for [redacted] and [redacted] to distract me from pressing the point.

Notice subverbal thought, snap fingers

Cool idea for training gestalt thinking, but I never remember it except right after the card comes up. I need to think of a more specific trigger, that would target especially useful times to work in nonverbal concepts.

If there's a choice with many options, write down the top level clusters. Assessment time is less valuable than time spent implementing and pivoting; better to map the option space and pick with random number generator.

I think randomization is a very useful tool to avoid systematic bias, and I think people underutilize it. However, intuition and precedent are also very useful heuristics. Making a good decision about when to leverage which technique requires some technical understanding. That judgment has to be trained, and can't be replaced with a simple habit recommendation.

When work is boring, have fun

I was trying to learn a motto as if it were a habit. Have Fun is not actually an action though.

When I'm confused in conversation, say "Wow, I did not understand that. In particular, X."

When I felt confused or overwhelmed, I would silently shut down and stop contributing or paying attention, which was a problem because some of the really interesting conversations in the Bay Area get very confusing. This habit was meant to give me an opening back into an information-dense conversation. I didn't get a chance to use it before I moved to Utah. My current biggest concern is shutting down in important office meetings, and its phrasing is too brazen to use there.

The most common psychological effect posited to explain the surge of suicides in May and June is the broken promise effect; people think things will get better in the spring, and then they don't

Apparently the May/June suicide phenomenon used to be larger and is now disappearing (acc. to data in switzerland). I got this card secondhand, its source is a NY times article, and it's an isolated factoid I don't have any other context to evaluate in.

To eat a cupcake with class, cut the bottom away from the muffin-top and place it on top of the frosting. You now have a classy cupcake sandwich.

I don't get how you're supposed to bite into the cupcake sandwich without squishing out all the frosting. This seems like only a marginal improvement, not worth memorizing.

If you can say "I think" in place of "I feel", say that instead

This is an attempt to gloss everyday language into a more NVC-friendly format. I thought this would be a strict improvement over claiming your thoughts as an emotional experience, so no one can defend ridiculous claims with "You can't say I'm wrong about my feelings!", but in practice you can still defend a lot of malicious accusations under a thin banner of "that's just my perspective!".

As I notice I'm missing knowledge, I should note to myself that my current mechanisms don't route through an important area

Too vague. The notes about "I don't understand this" just kind of pile up and make me feel stressed without providing a viable pathway to fix my blindspots.

When I'm trying to go to sleep, run through steps: Breathe. Replay my day. Mentally "turn off" body parts. Count backwards.

This is such a long instruction step I never get all the way through. Execution, especially on Replaying my day, is too varied for habit reinforcement to catch on.

When feeling suspicious/paranoid of people, make a small hand wave to draw attention to myself. Admit distrust aloud if possible and an option of how to respond to it. ("I distrust this, AND I will...")

Habitually stancing myself as if other people are out to get me really hinders my working ability and emotional wellbeing. I hoped this would break vicious isolation cycles and help me accumulate evidence for my System 1 that paranoia wasn't warranted. Unfortunately, examples of people responding well did not accumulate faster than my discomfort at forcing myself to do unsafe-feeling things.

When you're in "cold" emotional states, use your self-control to build systems that prevent poor decision-making

To the extent that I think I know how to build a "system that prevents poor decision-making", it constrains my actions too much and I have no room to build feedback cycles.

An example of using problem-solving instead of punishment with kids: "What can we work out so that you can use my tools when you need them, and so that I'll be sure they're there when I need them?"

I expect that this gets implemented a lot as "here, let me tell you an extremely constrained formulation of the problem for which the only logical solution is to do exactly what I want you to do".

Record 'bugs' on paper or in Stride app.

One of the tricks I've discovered when training a skill is to pick a concrete target I can hit on a ratio between 1:4 to 4:1, and just keep track of that ratio while ignoring the impulse to analyze what I'm doing to cause the result. (This has correlaries in neural networks with RPROP and RMSPROP.) This is supposed to operate on a similar principle of "this is just a data point". At some point it turned into a depressing commentary and lists of complaints.

One project a week

It sounds impressive to announce your intentions to do cool stuff on a regular basis. I wasn't very motivated to actually work on the stuff though.

Dan notices that his chain smoker dad has still lived to 90 without lung cancer, and infers that cigarettes aren't that bad for you. His reasoning flaw is misuse of the availability heuristic.

Misusing the availability heuristic, yes. I think the general strategy of copying your long-lived relatives' habits is actually pretty robust.

You can set up a system to self-regulate by making an action for a change that also suppresses the triggers for related actions from firing for a while

A textbook answer that will not in any way guide me to recognize or create such systems in real life.

My blog posts should first and foremost have a story arc. For any information source in a blog post, I should aim to include reproducible methods.

I fail at the stage of make myself write words, aiming for a particular writing style doesn't help much.

Tinkering vs. pure rationality techniques: overlearn the pure styles at the start, then make them your own.

Need to operationalize 'overlearn' more. I don't have good systems in place to keep up deliberate practice.

When soliciting feedback, spread my arms or make a pinching motion to denote the scope of corrective feedback I'm looking for. (Overarching changes for a prototype, or details to fix on a final draft?)

I'm not asking for in-person feedback readily enough to practice this habit. Until I am, this mostly turns into an anxious gesture to ask that people not criticize me about things I'm too fragile to think about right now.

Framework of Technical vs. Adaptive problems

Rationalists tend to favor a narrative where every problem has a technical solution, and ones you think don't are really just poorly framed or under-specified. I think this narrative encourages tilting at windmills. Adaptive-ish problems exists in the sense that there are some things that you are going just keep getting wrong, and maybe never even see from inside whatever framework you are currently using to think about your problems, no matter how many meta levels you go up. I don't think technical/adaptive carves concept-space at its joints; it's obscuring something fundamental to distinguishing kinds-of-problems.

When I'm notice anxious, perfectionist behavior, open my arms wide and say "I trust you" to myself

So hokey. It was a very good stopgap measure, but not enough.

Stretch and intentionally take up space when I enter a personal area

This is me refusing to flinch from the world before it gives me a reason to. (It's what HJPEV would do.) It's another habit where I'm trying to reverse-invoke a brainstate by replicating the outcomes it would have caused. It's not a bad idea — Fake it till you make it is a thing, stepping outside of self-reinforcing cycles is a thing. But such interventions are not powerful enough to counteract whatever common causal factor keeps regenerating these issues.

If a debuggee is giving nothing to work with, say "Some things come to mind. Let me give you four ideas.. Is it <3 examples of what I suspect>.. or something else?"

The "or something else" is a very important part, and with the way my explanations meander I don't often get to it.

My prayer...

The world as my witness I call upon you to know and be known in return The void as my jury I call upon you The damning and beautiful silence My heartbeat as signal The knock knock that matters So long as you can feel at all Nothing must stop me but that which can stop me So mote it be

It's based on a core mindset concept I recently scrapped. I tweaked this prayer too often for it to act as good anchor anyways; better to start from scratch.

#Strategic Review

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